Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Experiences of a...Personal...Nature

I just received a wonderful email from a viewer bringing  up the question of haunted locations in my own county:  Putnam.  I agree that this area of the state is woefully short on paranormal tales and lore.  I'm not sure if it is because Putnam County is one of the few counties that has not embraced its own history to the extent of others, because there is so much "new blood" moving in...or if  the subject of our ghosts is simply just something that isn't discussed with outsiders!

In any event, many of my readers know that over the years, I've had my fair share of personal experiences, both in my own home and out in the field, so to speak.  This morning, I'll be sharing two additional personal experiences, that although completely unrelated, happened in the same area of the county at different locations, within a year of each other.

These tales both happened at locations found off of what is known locally as Red House Hill...or Route 34 North.  Back in my early research days, I did find several online references to this area has being haunted.  According to the stories, a phantom military band was seen and heard marching in the area.  The area did see some scant Civil War action, and I did find a few references to WWI and WWII connections, but nothing that backed up the claims on an historical level.  Despite anything to back up those claims, I'd later find out that the area may still be haunted...just not necessarily by a phantom band or even soldiers. 

Several years ago, I met a totally awesome guy who lived in the area, "M."  M and I became pretty good friends, and every once in awhile, with not much to do around here, we'd climb into the car and head further up the "mountain" to a farm house owned by his family.  No one lived full time in this farm was used more as a weekend getaway, and a place for M's band to practice.  And was fairly creepy up there, lol.  The very first night I ever went up there, we heard what sounded like a woman's screams coming from the nearest neighboring farm house, and then the low, horrifying moo of what sounded like a cow in distress.  However, the creepiest thing that probably occured was the night of the footsteps. 

We hadn't been up at the house for very long that evening, but we were settled in watching TV.  The house, while right off the main road, was fairly secluded, so we were pretty surprised when we heard what sounded like heavy boots clomping around the wraparound porch.  We looked out the windows, but didn't see anything.  Nervous that someone was trying to rob the house, we grabbed the nearest "weapons," which amounted to a wooden club type thing and a hammer...hehe....and walked outside.  M was in the lead, with me clinging terrified behind him.  We walked the entire length of the porch several times, but even though we didn't see anything, we could still hear the footsteps, just out of range.  Gaining some courage, we decided to split up and track it down, but the sounds were always just out of reach.

Going back inside, we laughed the incident off as possibly a large racoon, or other animal.  It wasn't until we reached the safety of civilization that we looked at each other and both said "that wasn't a racoon, was it?"  For reasons left to circumstance, I never visited the house again, and shortly thereafter, lost touch with M.

It was, however, shortly before this time that I met another guy from the same general area, and after several dates, began seeing him on a regular basis.  He also just happened to live in a haunted trailer.  Our very first time meeting we actually went out to the old Lakin Industrial School for Colored Boys, so our relationship started off with spooky beginnings.  Perhaps since he knew I had an interest in all things paranormal, he confided that there had been some weird things going on in his home.  I would shortly start to experience these things for myself.

One night after going to bed, we were awakened by his stereo coming on by itself, FULL volume.  Other times, we'd be sitting in the living room on one end of the trailer, only to hear a horrific thud on the other end, like a car had run into the home.  I got sort of used to hearing all these weird things, but up until that point, I had never actually SEEN anything.  That changed this particular evening.

Whenever we'd settle down to go to bed, we ALWAYS shut the bedroom door tight.  However, after an evening out, we were more than a little anxious to make it to the bedroom, if you catch my drift.  In the heat of the moment, shutting the door was apparently the last thing on our minds.  The door to the bedroom opened out into the trailer's hallway, and was located toward the foot of the bed.  For some reason or another, I happened to raise up slightly and look over my partner's shoulder, right out the door into the hall.  Walking past the door at that exact moment was a very solid, very real looking gentleman.  This was an older man, with silver-white hair, a little on the longish side, wearing a white wife-beater shirt. 

Since the back door to the trailer was in this hall, I was SURE that someone very alive had walked into the home.  Of course, that and the confusion associated with the sighting was a complete mood killer.  I'm yelling about someone being in the house, and my boyfriend is trying to assure me there's nothing to worry about.  After things calmed down a bit, he was able to explain that before he moved in, apparently an older woman lived in the trailer.  She had a gentleman friend who would sneak in the back door for late night visits, and apparently, THAT is who I saw walking down the hall.

I hope you enjoyed these two additional personal experiences from my personal archives!  Please check back often as more stories are added.

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