In the mid 70's I moved from southern California to Alaska. I was in my late 20's, single and in search of excitement. I was a banker and had obtained a job in Anchorage. At the time, Alaska was very much like the Wild West. The Alaska Pipeline was being built and there was a lot of people coming and going who were associated with the construction process. As a banker, I was transferred all over the state, but eventually after 10 years, I ended up back in Anchorage. In every town I lived in I was lucky enough to have been able to buy a home and sell it each time I was transferred. Therefore, by the time I returned to Anchorage, I had made enough money to buy a really nice home. After looking around for some period of time I decided to buy a lot, design my own home and have it built the way I wanted. I found a fabulous lot in an excellent area and in a matter of about 9 months, my dream house was done. Still single, I moved in to this large 3 story house with just me and my dog (a 7 year old chocolate lab) named "Little Girl". I designed this house for entertaining. The lot I bought had a slight slope going down behind it. So, the house from the street appeared to be one story with a daylight basement. But actually it had a higher loft area where my master bedroom was and a lower level below the daylight basement, which was where the laundry room and wine cellar was. The upper level was the formal living room, kitchen, bath and guest bedroom. The daylight basement is where the bar, TV room, pool room and sauna and hot tub area was. Also there was a 3rd bedroom and bath on this level as well. Anyway, I spent most evenings downstairs in the TV area. I guess it was about the 2nd week after moving in; while lying on the couch watching TV, with my dog sleeping at the foot of the couch, I hear what sounds to me like heavy footsteps walking on the floor above me, which would be in the living room and kitchen. Of course I suspected an intruder. Almost immediately I rush up the stairs right behind my dog who had heard it too and was barking and growling at whom or whatever it was. When I reached the landing, there was absolutely no one there. I checked all of the doors and windows and they were locked. So, assuming it was likely the settling or maybe expansion and contraction of the new wood, I just brushed it off. However, it began occurring not only nightly but often several times a night. And, if you listened, it sounded exactly like someone walking from one end of the main floor to the other. Of course I often rechecked to verify it was not an intruder, but there was never anyone there.
In Alaska, it is very common for people to gather at one person's home and enjoy themselves on weekends. So, me being single, having a nice new big house with a built in bar, pool table, hot tub and sauna, I was the new entertainment center for most parties. And, I really didn't mind, because I loved this house and was always happy to share it with my friends. It was maybe about 6 months after moving that I had the first of many dinner parties. This first time we all (6 couples) BBQ'd, had a great meal, and ended up downstairs to play pool and have a few drinks. Anyway, by now my dog and I had become use to the sound of the footsteps overhead and I had jokingly decided it was a ghost, that I fondly named Harry. After about 4 hours after dinner, the party was down to only me and my girlfriend and one other couple. So, about 10:30PM the four of us decide to take a hot tub together. The hot tub and sauna were on the same level, but actually in a separate room, that I designed just for these two activities. And, it was located directly below the kitchen. Anyway, after about 20 minutes of hot soaking, the two women get out and head upstairs for a shower and to get dressed. Meanwhile my male friend and I are still sitting in the tub, when we hear the footsteps. Which I recognize as the sound of Harry and I am sure it is him. However, my friend comments how loudly the women were walking around upstairs. I thought nothing of it until my friend's wife lets out a scream and the two women com running downstairs. They were very upset and claimed they saw something like a shadow in the kitchen and when spotted, it evaporated right into thin air. Of course my friend thinks the women just had too much to drink, but for me I am thinking maybe Harry is real.
About a year passes and I still continue to hear Harry walking around above. Although I actually have mixed feelings about whether or not he is real, I treat him like a real person. When I would hear him walking I would yell out and say "Hi Harry", or maybe "Come on down". Of course he (or it) never did.
In April of 1987 I married my girlfriend and she and her 8 year old son moved in permanently. And, for the many times she and her son spent overnight, Harry had never again made any appearance. However, when we got back from our Hawaii honeymoon, the first night after putting her boy to bed, we had our first hot tub as a married couple. I guess we must have soaked about 40 minutes and it was getting late. I decide to use the bathroom on that level to take a shower. I had no sooner got into the shower, when my wife screams out. I rush out of the bathroom and she was sitting on the edge of the tub crying. After a few seconds of my trying to find out what happened she said something pushed her head under water and held her there for several seconds before letting her up. Of course, I believed her and considered the shadowy sighting upstairs a year earlier and wonder if it was Harry. Maybe Harry didn't like the idea of sharing the house permanently with a woman and child. But, as yet I was afraid to tell my wife about Harry. And actually; after it passed, I think she really felt like it hadn't happened. She did comment that maybe she had actually fallen asleep in the tub, dreamed the whole thing and slid under the water. And since didn't want to give her any other reason to be afraid, I agreed with her.
About a month passes and all goes well. Then one night we are awaken by some of the hardest pounding you can imagine on our bedroom door. We both wake immediately, bolt to the door thinking it is our son. But, there was nothing there and our son is fast asleep in his lower bedroom. The next week, this happens two more times. Same result. Now, we are both spooked, and it is about this time I tell my wife about Harry. She of course is freaked out. However, I tell her I really find it difficult to believe that after more than 2 years living here, he would suddenly be angry at us, and maybe we should just let it be and try to live with it. Reluctantly we return to bed and now begin leaving our bedroom door open.
All is well for maybe the next 6 months. In fact several more parties, and BBQs and nothing happens. And, although Harry continues to be heard walking overhead, my wife has by now become accustomed to him. And, of course my son knows nothing of these activities.
Then one night we are asleep with our door remaining open, and something serious wakes me up pushing up and down on my chest. And, it continues after I am awake. I am unable to rise up while this is going on and I swear it felt like 2 people are pushing me up and down. After a few seconds the movement up and down wakes my wife and when she rose up to see what is happening. The pushing stops and a very loud swishing sound is heard. It was like something flying out of the room.
It was actually so unreal, after it was over; I really had a hard time believing it happened. It took us about an hour to go back to sleep. And, as soon as we did the phone rang. My wife answered and was informed by her father that her favorite grandmother had died earlier that evening. The next day was of course difficult and my wife spent a lot of time making funeral arrangements. But, when she did come home we talked about the previous night's event and my wife convinced herself maybe it was her grandma coming to us to say goodbye. And, what the heck, maybe it was.
Other than Harry walking daily nothing much more happened for the next 6 months. However, after a late night Christmas party my wife and I were upstairs cleaning up and loading the dishwasher when a favorite crystal salad bowl that was given to my wife by her deceased grandmother suddenly went sliding along the counter top and onto the tile kitchen floor, where it broke into many un-repairable pieces. Immediately, I was blamed for knocking it off. Well, of course I knew I had not done it, but better take the blame as to accuse Harry of doing it. So, as she finished up I could sense her anger at me, I venture down stairs to let the dog in and maybe watch some late night TV. Anyway, my dog had this favorite area in the room where she liked to sleep where I had folded up a piece of the carpet that was left over when my house was built. So, this became her in side bed. When I would let her in, she immediately went for that spot. I remember it was particularly cold that night and the snow was very deep around the house and in her yard area. So, I knew she was cold. I decided to sit down with her on the floor to rub her ears and talk to her. As I sat there, the pool table was directly between us and the wall on the other side where the stairs go down to the laundry room, where the door was usually left open. There was only one small light on in the basement and it was on very low. And, as I lie there relaxing on the floor and talking to the dog, I am looking under the bottom of the pool table and I see my wife coming up from the laundry room. She says nothing to me, as I assume she is still angry, but instead of turning right to head back upstairs, she goes left and turns into the hot tub room. I stay there for a few minutes, but noticing she didn't turn on the light in that room. Obviously, I am wondering what she was doing. So, I get up to investigate, there isn't anyone there. This is the first time I really ever felt spooked in that house, but this did affect me. I
turned off the small light that was on down there and went upstairs to our bedroom. When I got there, my wife was fast asleep in bed. So, who or whatever I saw down there, it definitely wasn't her. Yet, it was something that looked very much like her. Same blonde hair, same shape and about the same height.
The next day, I was sitting downstairs watching television with my son while my wife was out grocery shopping, when I decided to casually ask him if he ever heard any noises at night, since his bedroom was down there and the door was normally left open when he slept. He said, "Oh yes, almost every night I am visited by (he said 2 names) who are children my age". He describes the 2 kids and says they always want to sleep with him in his bed, but their mother (who he also named) wouldn't let them. He said the mother was a real nice lady. When I asked him to describer her, he said she looked just like his own mother (my wife.)
At this point I really decided that there was more to this than what I could deal with. Maybe this was not the best atmosphere for any of us to be in. And, since I was contemplating returning to California, maybe now was the time to do it. So, a few months later, in February of1992 we moved to southern California. I sold my dream home and never looked back. And, what is really interesting, once we were out of that house, many of my Alaska friends who were often there confessed to me how uncomfortable they were at times in the daylight basement. One guest who spent the night on a couch in the TV room swears he was accosted by a female ghost when he tried to sleep down there. Who knows? But, the fact is, I have no idea whether Harry was real or not, a he or she, or whether he was alone in that house or not. And, above all, I remain puzzled as to how a new home that to my knowledge was not built on top of any cemetery or even a former home site, could have been haunted. But, that is
my story, and it was enough to last me for a life time. And, I have no idea whether or not the people that bought my house ever experienced any of the things that we did.
My story begins in the late 50's and early 60's, around the time the TV show "The Twilight Zone", hosted by Rod Sterling was on. I actually began dreaming Twilight Zone stories. I would wake up and unlike many dreams people have, I remembered them. This occurred several times a week, month after month. Finally, I began writing the stories down. After about a year I began submitting them to Rod Sterling for him to have if he wanted to use them. After a year or two of doing this, it appeared they had no interest. However, one day I received a letter from Mr. Sterling thanking me for the submissions, but politely stating they could not accept stories that were unsolicited, and please stop sending them to him. It appeared to be signed by him personally. And, he did offer to meet with me as he was impressed with not only the stories, but how I created them (through dreams). He left a phone number and invited me to call him to set up a meeting. However, when I did call, I learned that he had died only that week. My dreams for this show immediately stopped thereafter.
It was about this time in my life that I experienced the first loss of a close family member. My father's dad died at the age of 88. However, the night this happened, I dreamed he died, and in my dream he visited me to say good-bye. I was about 16 at the time. However, I remember waking up sweating and very nervous. I couldn’t go back to sleep, and when I did finally get up, my mom and dad were already up. They said my uncle had just called to say Grandpa had died in his sleep last night. I didn’t know what to think. Had it been a dream or not? Whatever it was I never mentioned it to my parents.
Six months later, I had a similar dream, where my mother’s father died, and he too came to me to say goodbye. Again I couldn’t go back to sleep. But this time when I got up, there appeared to be no one dead. However, a week later my mother received word that her dad had been found dead in his home, an apparently heart attack victim. And, since he lived alone, his body was not discovered for a few days. Again, I didn’t feel it necessary to share this dream with anyone.
These two dreams and the Twilight Zone dreams made me curious, so I began to read about dreams. Why they occur and what they meant. But nothing I read answered any of my questions. So, I began reading about un-natural events, life after death and other books that lead me to reading about ghosts and spirits. This was all of course fascinating, but to me seemed really more fiction than anything else.
However, I had a close friend I confided in one night about my two my two dreams. He said he too had experienced similar things, and when he told his dad about them, the dad said he had encountered ghostly entities many times. This kid’s father was one of those types of parents that we kids considered to be “cool”. So, if he said so, we believed him. The father later related several stories to me about his own contacts, but even though I thought he was “cool”, I really was hesitant to believe everything he said. But, it did begin to open my mind to considering things.
It wasn’t long after this, that my friend and his sister (who I had a crush on) invited me and two other girls over to their house on Saturday night for a BBQ, which I quickly accepted. And, after we ate, Julie (the sister) suggested that the 5 of us play with their Ouija Board. I admit I had never heard of this game before. However Julie insisted it was fun and we would like it. Frankly, I would have preferred spin the bottle or even Monopoly, but Ouija was what everyone else wanted to do. The rules were explained, which I really thought sounded stupid. But, wishing to make a good impression, I went along with it. We played in their garage. Everyone took turns asking stupid questions and getting nowhere. Then, one of the other girls asked if there were any spirits present. All of a sudden the planchette began actually spelling out words. Of course I knew someone was moving it around to spell out what ever they wanted.
But when it identified itself as Charlie, I began paying closer attention. And, when my turn came around I asked it specific questions, such as what was its last name. When it spelled out my last name I about fell off my chair. This was the name of my grandfather who died. Other questions asked by the kids of Charlie were more personal and about their lives. None of it was meaningful, and there were no real responses. Again, my turn came around, when I asked if I had ever met this spirit, it quickly said yes. I then asked when. It immediately responded back by saying, "Stay out of the army" and then it was gone. Everyone laughed (except me) and we put the game away. Since everyone knew my last name, I assumed somebody made the game spell out my last name. But it did kind of freak me out. Especially since I would soon be 18 and I had to sign up for the draft. This was the time that the Vietnam conflict was beginning, and I was already worried about being drafted into the Army.
Upon graduating form high school, I began attending community college. I took only the necessary courses required to maintain my student deferment. However, several of my friends and classmates entered the armed forces right out of high school hoping to return later with GI benefits and get into a big college.
Again, one night I had a dream about a classmate who had joined the Navy and was already in Vietnam. He was a crewmember of one of those river gunboats that patrolled looking for contraband and smugglers. He and I were not very close, but we did play football together for 4 years and he worked for 2 years at my parent’s restaurant along with me, washing dishes. He was also the first kid from our class to join the military. Anyway, I had a dream about him being killed. Except this time I actually saw the entire event. I saw them being fired upon from a small boat passing their port side and being fired upon from their starboard side from shore. It was very graphic and real. Again, I woke sweaty and at this time knew it was real. And, sure enough we soon heard he had been killed. I never did inquire about how it happened, but I knew what I saw was likely what did happened.
I stumbled through two years of college. Trying hard to concentrate on getting a degree in something of value. But the constant threat of being drafted if you flunked out was a real constant distraction. Finally, when I graduated from community college, I said to hell with it. I contacted several recruiters, and listened to what each had to say. Back on my 16th birthday I obtained a private pilots license, as flying was my passion. So, when I interviewed with the Army recruiter, and he promised to get me into flight school to fly helicopters, I enlisted immediately. Of course my parents were very upset, and couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to continue with college. But the pressure of being drafted was something I could contend with, so off to training I went. First at Fort Ord California for basic training, then Dothan Alabama for flight school. Upon graduation from flight school we all received our orders for either additional training in larger aircraft, and some were sent directly to Vietnam to begin ferrying troops. I guess I wasn’t one of the lucky ones, because I was to report to Vietnam in 45 days to begin my tour.
The Army was kind enough to allow us a 30 day leave to go home, say good-bye and such before we were to be deployed. However, before we went home, we needed to spend a couple of days there to receive our warrant officer commissions, and to receive specific types of combat clothing as well as undergo a battery of shots designed to keep you healthy in a country riddled with disease.
I remember the first night after graduation. We all went out, drank way too much, tried to convince ourselves we were all invincible and how much fun it was going to be to fly in Nam. Of course we all knew the statistics were against such ideas, as the average life expectancy of a fresh, out of training helicopter pilot, was said to be about 6 minutes in the air. Anyway, during the night, I woke up and needed to go to the latrine, (bathroom). I got up, opened the door of my room to head down the hall, and standing right front of me, as bright as if it were daylight, stood my grandfather. He always wore bib overalls, and a train engineer’s hat. He stood right in my path, with both hands to his waist. He looked me straight in the eyes and said “God damn it, what did I tell you about not joining the Army?” Then, before I could respond he just disappeared, right in front of me. I went on to the latrine and then recalled the Ouija’s warning. I had totally forgotten about its comment. In the latrine I tried to rationalize what I just saw, and concluded it was only a dream, and it didn’t really happen. In fact, I assumed it was my sub-consciences that conjured up my grandfather and caused me to recall the Ouija Board experience. And, to be honest, I really didn’t think much more about the event. Three nights later, all is done, our shots completed and orders to be picked up in the morning, and then it would be off to California to see friends and family before going off to war.
I do not know what time of night it was, but I again had the most God awful dream. This time it was my dad. He shook my bed. I woke up to see him standing to my left side. I remember his face glowed, and in the dark of the room I could see he was wearing his old WWII Army uniform. Although by now he was far too heavy to get into it. But here he was, trim and fit and in uniform. He stood there silent at first. I remember sitting up, and asking him was I dreaming? What was going on? He stood there totally silent for what seemed like a very long time. He then said, “Son, I am going to go to war for you. Stay home and care for your mother. There is a lot of work for you to do.” He was then gone. Again, I awoke in a sweat. It was 4 AM and there was no way I could go back to sleep. I looked over at my two roommates and they were fast asleep. I laid in bed until sunup. I then dressed and went to mess call. I was worrying about my dad, so I tried several times to call home. But there was no answer. After breakfast I went on to pack by duffle bag. I then went to pickup my traveling orders. When I got there, the first sergeant said he was about to go look for me. He said there was a call from the Red Cross and I need e to call them. I immediately knew at that moment that my father had died. I was immediately granted emergency leave on top of my 30 day leave. My orders were changed. The company commander said I should take as much time as I needed and if extra time was necessary, I should call him personally. I though how odd it was for the Army to be so nice and understanding, but I had no time to think about it. I said goodbye to my fellow graduates and arrived in California 10 hours later.
Friends of my parents met me at the airport and explained my dad had died in his sleep of a massive heart attack. (He was only 44 years old.) They also said my mother had become seriously ill a week earlier with what was diagnosed as infectious hepatitis, apparently caused while seeing the dentist. Apparently she received a shot or something from a dirty needle. Anyway, the restaurant was operating without supervision and my mom was too sick to deal with it. And, as an only child, I had no one to rely on for help.
My dad had been seriously wounded in WW II and did have a small life insurance policy to help with the burial. I immediately put the restaurant up for sale. My mom was totally out of it from grief and her illness. Our family friends help to tend to her. And, as my dad was a Mason they took charge of his funeral and his burial service. Meanwhile, I worked and managed the restaurant the best I could.
At my dad’s service one of his American Legion buddies came up to me and said I was lucky in some respects. He said my dad had traded his life for mine. He said everyone in town feels you need to stay here and take care of business. What I didn’t know at the time was the friends of my family had all gotten together and petitioned the Red Cross to get me a Hardship Discharge. And, it wasn’t until I had to call my company commander to seek additional time, did I find this out. He said he understood my need to get separated from the Army, but his hands were tied. If I wanted out, I would need to talk to the base Adjacent General. I was dumbfounded. I told him I didn’t understand, why did he think I wanted out of the Army? He then told me about the Red Cross request. Frankly, I was angry and felt these “friends” had no business trying to tell me what to do. And, I told them so. But they all said they it was best not only for my mother but me too. I was granted an additional 2 weeks by the company commander, but he said I need to report at the end of that time. He said whatever I needed to do I should do there.
A week later I was able to lease out the restaurant with an agreement to sell it after a period of time. Also, during this week my dad’s life insurance policy was paid and I deposited the money into the bank, which provided my mom with enough money to keep everything current for at least 6 months. And, by now she was feeling better and able to get up and around a bit. That night I lay in bed still not sure what I should do. I felt that if I tried to get out of the Army I was a quitter and was letting my Army friends down. If they could risk their lives, I was certainly no better than them. I don’t know how long I lay there or when I went to sleep. But again I had a dream. This time in my dream my friend I spoke of earlier that was killed in the Navy River Boat appeared and told me my dad had died for me and that if I went back, his death would be for nothing. Plus, he said I too would die, leaving my mother totally alone. When I woke this time, I remembered the warning, and no longer had any choice. I returned to Ft. Rucker and met with the post A G. He immediately approved my release from active duty and assigned me to a reserve unit, which I had 6 months to locate, which was close to home.
When I returned home, I got a job in an aircraft machine shop, which I hated, and it only lasted long enough to allow me the opportunity to seek and obtain a job as a management trainee for a big California bank. While in training, one of my jobs was to handle consumer credit loans from various retail shops. One such shop sold washers, dryers and refrigerators. And, at this shop I became friends with one of the salesmen. This guy was older than me, but we had a lot in common. He had just obtained a divorce and received split custody of his two small children. Soon after meeting this guy, he asked me to help him restore an old Victorian home he had recently purchased in north Pomona (out 30 miles east of Los Angeles). This was a gorgeous old home. 3 stories, plus an attic. I do not remember the square footage, but it was big. Before he bought it, the former owner had turned it into a boarding house, renting out the bedrooms and actually sealing up walls to make small private apartments. Anyway, my friend wanted to remodel the existing living area and leave the 2 small apartments alone, maintaining them as rentals. So, for about 4 weekends I helped him paint and rebuild the baths and kitchen. For me, I thought this was a really neat place. But he told me how his 2 children hated the place and complained of strange noises in their bedrooms.
Let me digress a bit and talk about one of his children. I would say the child was maybe 8 and his daughter about 6 at the time. The boy was a genius, having been scientifically tested with an extremely high IQ. In fact, in the early 70s he was a participant on a short-run TV program called The Whiz Kids. The show was made up of kids (about 10 of them) who sat on a panel and fielded adult questions and show off their special powers and knowledge. As an example; at age 3 could play the piano fairly well, having never taken lessons. By 4 he could play the drums and even the electric guitar. So, by 8 he was very accomplished musician. The daughter was none of those things, but a very sweet little girl. However, he always needed to be the center of attention. And to attract attention he read constantly, to find topics to impress adults with. By 8, he had read the complete set of F & W encyclopedias. There was no doubt he was special. And, because of that he was always in your face trying to get your attention. So, this meant he also lied a lot to get attention. And, when he told his dad one morning about seeing ghosts in his room, no one really believed him. However, one night, the daughter had to sleep in his room, because we had painted her room earlier that day and the smell was quite bad. My friend and I had dates over, and we BBQ'd, then sat and watched TV. About 9:30Pm a loud scream came from the boy's room. We all rushed up to see what was wrong. When we opened the door and the room was extremely cold, while it was mid summer and likely in the 80s outside. The daughter was hiding under the covers and the boy was standing on top of his bed jumping up and down. When we entered the room he jumped off his bed and ran to his dad. The daughter looked out under the covers, and then she too got up and ran to her dad. The boy said nothing, but the girl said a cowboy came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed and began talking to her brother. He, himself even said he knew his name and he and several other friends who often came in to visit him too.
The boy went on to explain how that they had all lived in this house and specifically in this room before, and they all died a long time ago, but they like to come back and visit. Actually, we all were hard pressed to believe his stories. But, none of us could explain the muddy multiple sets of footprints along the side of his bed. It was obvious something made the mess. However, that wasn’t the end of the tale. My friend said he had on-going problems in that room with his son and often heard voices of people talking to him. However, every time he tried to sneak into his son’s room to catch a glimpse of the people talking, he would only find his son sitting up on the edge of his bed, wide-awake. Each time the boy said his dad chased off the cowboys. However, the last time I visited my friend and his two children at their house, was the weekend before I left to accept the bank job in Alaska. I brought my girlfriend over so we could say our farewells. He and I were on his patio outside. It was very nice day. We drank some beer; BBQ'd some ribs and just sat there enjoying the sunset and a nice spring evening. I was sitting facing the rear of the house, able to look up and see the boy's window. My friend was facing away from the house. My girlfriend was inside likely cleaning up the dishes. I suddenly caught out of the corner of my eye, a movement of something shadowy running up the back of the house and into the boy's open window. My friend and I were talking and I wasn’t really paying attention, but it was registering in the back of my mind. I think I assumed it was car lights or something. Then, two more shadowy figures did the same thing. This time, I really paid more attention and mentioned it to my friend. He turned around, but didn’t see anything. As I was explaining what I thought I saw, my girlfriend comes running out and says she heard men talking upstairs. My friend and I went into the house and looked around. We didn’t see anything. Then we went up stairs and entered the boy's room. The boy was not in the room, but we heard him laughing up on the 3rd level which is where the attic was. We slowly walked up the stairs to the attic and quietly listened. All we could hear was the boy talking and laughing. We carefully opened the door and heard a man's voice say something but we couldn’t understand what it was. By the time the door was fully open all we saw was the boy standing alone. But as before, there were a lot of muddy footprints on the floor. The boy said the mess was from the 3 cowboys that were there. Well, I never saw anything in the room. But, I did see the muddy prints. I left California a week later and I have never had contact with my friend since then.
A side note about this child…… One morning when he was staying with his dad, he got up and begun to describe how in a former life he was killed by a mace during a battle in France in 1330. He said he was to be married on that very day, but died instead. Each morning he would elaborate more and more about the events leading up to the pending marriage and his subsequent death. Finally, my friend fearing the boy was going over the edge took him to a psychiatrist that the TV show had made available to the children on the defunct program. The boy told his story and the doctor recorded it. After some time he met with my friend and said he believed that he may have read about this battle and was injecting himself into the roll of a soldier. However, he said he would further research the story because he mentioned a certain town in France that appeared to never have existed. And, the doctor felt that if he could prove he was making up the story, he could help him.
Apparently after doing his research, the doctor was convinced that the whole story was made up. But before he confronted the boy with his theory, he asked a colleague who was an expert on 13th century France, to listen to this child's tape. To everyone’s surprise, that doctor was able to confirm most of his story right down to his pending wedding. Apparently there was an actual town by the name the boy said, there was a young woman who was left at the alter by a soldier that was killed in a battle with the English, who indeed did have his head bashed in with a mace. Also, since the original doctor was unable to verify any of his story, it was because very few history books would have had any information on this little town, because it was totally destroyed 45 days later when a volcano erupted and covered it entirely with lava, killing almost 90% of everyone living there. The second doctor said he doubted seriously that he could have ever read anything about this town as he only had a small group of very rare books that had any information at all about this village and its people. The boy recalled other such stories of previous life experience, but he is a subject alone for an in-depth discussions.
My life went along pretty well without any spiritual visits until about a year after I moved to Alaska in 1975. I was transferred to Fairbanks in 1976, a very wild part of the state at the time do to the construction of the Alaska Pipeline, running from Prudhoe Bay to Valdez. A distance of about 3,500 miles. While in Fairbanks, I was asked to make the city of Nome a loan to pay for its annual liability insurance. To accommodate them I had to fly west about 800 miles to Nome, a former very popular gold mining town of the late 1800s. This was a very wild west town Wyatt Earp had operated a saloon and gambling house there for over 15 years. Other saloons and brothels were also very prominent along Front Street. They too had their version of Boot Hill. Anyway, it was a very high profile town at one point, with a population of more than 100,000 minors. I was boarded in a very old hotel that had been remodeled, but had sections that was once part of an old saloon and brothel. And, it had a reputation for being haunted. So, I was looking forward to spending the night there. After I finished my banking business I ate dinner with the town’s mayor and family, and then walked back to my hotel. I spent about 2 hours downstairs in the remodeled historical saloon and talked too many of the locals about the buildings history. Seems there were many stories, many killings and fights in the old days. The madam that ran the bordello was said to have been killed one evening by an angry patron who felt he had been cheated. And, because she was so popular, the locals upon learning of this killing captured the patron and hung him in the rafter of the very saloon I was standing in. Anyway, given all this activity, I figured if there was ever a place something might happen it was here. Around 9 PM I went ahead up to my room, undressed and got into bed. Almost immediately, I began hearing stomping and walking up and down the stairs, and along the corridor outside my room. At first I attributed it to guests coming and going. However, this kept up until well past midnight. It got so bad; I finally got up to check it out. When I opened my room door it stopped. And there was no one to be seen. I returned to bed, actually getting tired by now. I was just about to fall off to sleep when this light knocking occurred at my door. I wake up, not sure what I heard.
Then again I hear a knock, but very lightly. I get up and open the door and there is a very young woman standing at the door with a bath robe on. I asked her what was wrong and what she wanted. She stood there for a while, and then said she guessed that she was at the wrong room. She just turned and walked left down the hall. I went back to bed assuming she was a local prostitute and simply went to the wrong room. And, to be honest, I did not pay close attention to her or how she was dressed. Again some time later that night, a knock on the door woke me again. I looked at my watch and it was almost 4 AM. Then I hear the doorknob being turned, first kind of slowly, then more vigorously, with the door being shaken at the same time. Now, I was angry and assuming it was some drunk, who was trying to get into the wrong room. I jumped out of bed and was ready to get into his face. However, when I opened the door, there was no one to be seen. And, given the length of the hall, I know a drunk could not have moved away that fast. Then it occurred to me, maybe all of these interruptions were real ghosts or spirits associated with the hotel. Since I was awake, and it was too early to get up, I decided to get back into bed, but now I would stay awake and leave the door unlocked, to see what else might happen. But as you would expect nothing did. However, when I checked out I retold my story to the morning manger, who wasn’t surprised. But as to the people stomping up and down my stairs, and down the hall, he said I was the only guest that night at the end of the hotel. And, hanging above him was a picture of a young woman that looked a lot like my late night visitor. When I asked who she was he said it was the madam that had been killed by the unhappy patron. I asked what room she lived in, but he didn’t know. And, I can’t help wonder if it was her spirit. And, I also learned my section oh the hotel was where the former brothel was located. All the way home I felt like I too had been cheated. Was this my first and true encounter with a spirit? And if it was, I blew it.
I never had reason to return to Nome again, but that hotel is still there and I would love to try my hand again, in the same room. Maybe someday I will be able to do it.
From Fairbanks I was transferred south to a small town called Kenai. This is home to the world’s largest king salmon run from the Cook Inlet to the Kenai River. It is a tremendous tourist area and a very beautiful place. It is the type of place people dream of moving to and retire. But this wasn’t a totally quiet place either. This little town was the home of a once very large Russian military post. (Alaska was originally owned by Russia.) And, this outpost was home to about 500 soldiers, between 1825 and 1870. It was basically there to provide protection to fur traders and to guard against native uprisings that might interfere with what was then a very large fur trade business. Also, in this town were several tribes of Eskimos and some Indians. These people are very similar to the American Indian. In fact, their dress, dances and spirit worshiping are also very similar. It is obvious that at one point in time, they all were from the same area. However, physically the Eskimo is very Asian in appearance while the Indians are more traditional looking. Anyway, each had their individual beliefs and burial grounds. Also, outside of Fort Kenya, the Russian Fort was their own burial grounds.
The bank I worked for had a policy of provided its incoming branch managers with a free apartment for the first 6 months of being transferred to a new assignment. And, when it was time to transfer somewhere else, the bank would purchase the home the manager bought while living there. So, when I arrived, one of the bank’s board of directors owned an apartment there. And, like everyone before me, I had my choice of which ever one of the units was vacant, I got it. And, never mind that it was right next to the public cemetery, which was next to the old Russian cemetery. It was nice and it was free. One of my favorite characters I met there was the local mayor. A former New York Wall Street stock broker and a guy that looked so far out of place in Kenai as anyone could ever be. But, he loved the area and had a really nice fishing boat that he insisted I join him on one evening. Fishing the Kenai River was a real treat. And, while fishing with him one night I caught my first really big King Salmon. A 72 lb. beauty that took about 1 ½ hours to land. And that was after we drifted with it down the river about 10 miles. Anyway, I was a proud as could be of this fish. When we got back to shore, he showed me how to clean it, and I packed it off to home. I placed the salmon on my draining board, next to the sink, and took a few pictures of it.
I was anxious to get the picture developed to send copies to family and friends back home in California. Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I got the picture developed. Standing next to the salmon as it laid on the counter, was a shape that looked exactly like an Indian. No facial details, but there was an outline of the head with feathers, both shoulders, body, legs and one arm was touching the fish. I absolutely couldn’t believe it. I took it to a friend in town that was a camera nut and asked him to look at the negative and try to see if he could determine what would cause such an anomaly. He said he had no idea what it was. And, he sent it to a friend in Anchorage who also could not explain it. Later, I was at a dinner for a retiring leader of the area’s native tribe and I mentioned the picture to him. He was anxious to see it, and when he did, he said it was a deceased fisherman from one of the native tribes. The image didn’t surprise him at all. In their culture the dead continue right along side the living and he said looking at the picture he must have been proud of the fish too, otherwise he would not have intruded in the picture. Who knows, but after that, I bought a good camera and spent a lot of time taking pictures of the two cemeteries at night.
Picture taking brings me to another comment. I cannot tell you how many pictures I tossed out because they had those little circles and white streaks in them. It wasn’t until I recently started looking at various ghost web sights on the internet that discussed orbs, white streaks and ecto. Most of my pictures had some or all of these things. And, I just thought they were bad pictures.
It was later this same year that I met a very lovely lady in Kenai that was employed by the local court house. She and I hit it off immediately. I was really taken with her. And, while I was building a new home there, she jumped right in to help out. On one of the evenings we were working late, we both observed a strange glow in the backyard.
I pointed it out to her, and we walked close enough to it to almost touch it. Then it just zoomed away. We looked at each other and at first I was hesitant to saying anything about ghost or anything, as I fearful of scaring her off. But she immediately brought it up, so it was OK. I have no idea what that energy was, but it opened our communication totally up. As time went on, I told her everything and she did the same. It seems she had a grandfather that died in Anchorage several years before, but every birthday (hers) she thinks he visits her for a moment or two. She says he smoked a pipe, and she had given him a special tobacco blend that he always used. And, every birthday, before she goes to bed, the smell of that tobacco is very strong in her house.
But something occurred soon after that which to this day I think was responsible for what happened in my new Anchorage house. It began innocently enough, by my association with a bank customer that built houses. His wife worked in the same office with my girlfriend, and they were very good friends. So, as knew the husband, we all began getting together socially. They all loved to play cribbage, and almost every Wednesday we usually went to their home to play, because they had two little girls and the kids could sleep in their own beds. After a winter season passed the husband was talking to me about establish a line of credit for his upcoming construction season when he told me how happy he was because his wife was again pregnant. He came from a very large family in Kansas and he wants children. Well, later that week I was called by my girlfriend and informed that this guy had fallen off of the roof of a house he was building and broken his arm. It was a hard fall, but he seemed OK. However, it turned out that wasn’t the real problem. Apparently he told the doctor that he became dizzy on the roof, passed out and fell. So, the doctoring in our little town was not real sophisticated. So, the doctor made him go to Anchorage for a proper check up. Unfortunately, the test confirmed that he had an inoperable brain tumor. And, they gave him only months to live. It was very sad. The baby was due in about 6 months and he confided to me he would be sure to live long enough to see it born. He refused to take any treatment, since they said it was fatal. But he did load up on pain pills. We watched this 6ft 3inch, 230 lb man dwindle to about 90 lbs. In about 180 days. It was awful. Yet, he never lost his sense of humor. He loved his wife and really enjoyed being with his kids. And, right up until a week before he died he was able to remain at home. On the night his wife went into labor, my girlfriend drover her to the hospital.
I went to their house to sit with him. He was so excited wanting to know the sex of the child that he couldn’t contain himself. He was hoping for a boy, to go with his two daughters. After an hour or so, my girlfriend called and said it was a boy. And at that moment in time, tumor or not, he was the happiest man I ever saw. The next day he was taken to the hospital for his final days of life. The wife and new child were also still there and he was able to hold his new son once before he died. The wife said in spite of his pain, the holding of that child was like therapy for him. Later, at his funeral and at his home after the mourners had left his wife told us that his last 3 nights were so very peaceful. He told her that each night he would travel out of his body and went to visit all of his relatives in Kansas.
Of course, I had never heard of such a thing and didn’t question the wife about it. But later that night, my girlfriend explained that there is a medical theory that terminally ill people often do this to not only get away from their pain, but to actually say good bye to friends and relatives. AND, hearing that comment, I immediately wondered if all of the visits I had that I thought were dreams could have been from these types of visits? It made very good sense and was an acceptable explanation.
So, I became very curious about out of body experiences. I read everything I could find. I learned there were multiple plains one could travel through. Some more dangerous than others. Everything I read lead one to believe it is something we all can do, and very often we have already done it at one time or another. But all of these books cautioned the amateur not to attempt to do it alone. It said there needed to be a guider to help you get back, and if you get too far out into other dimensions, there were demons that would try to divert you, and cause you to become lost. Anyway, I wanted to try it. So, on one of the nights my girlfriend could spend the entire night, I tried it. The instructions clearly said how to go about it, and not to be too anxious, as it might take hours of concentration before the first actual experience would succeed. Well, after many attempts, I finally succeeded. I believe I was on the ceiling looking down at my own body and my girlfriend. The instructions said to go no farther when this happened and to return immediately. And, to do so, you only had to think “return.” I did, and instantly I was back and awake. My girlfriend did not realize I had done it, but she did say she thought she saw a white mist or something like it rise up and hover on the ceiling for a while. I was exhausted. But I was sure I had done it. Over the next several months I would do it easier and more often. And, after a while I began to travel at first from room to room. In fact, I would have my girlfriend hide something of hers somewhere and I would go look for it. I think she was still skeptical that I was really doing this, until after one trip I returned and told her she had placed her black bra on the tall lampshade downstairs in the guest bedroom. Which is exactly what she did. After that, there was no doubt on her part. I think doing this really spooked her, because she refused to stay with me if I wanted to do it anymore. But, by now I had decided I didn’t need a guide anyway to get back. On my own I would simply think where I wanted to go, and instantly I was there. One night I decided to journey as far as I could. I wondered if I could visit my mother in California. I laid on the bed, arms stretched out, and palms up, concentrating on a spot on the ceiling. Soon, I felt my body rise up, exit through the ceiling and I felt the night air. I was moving incredibly fast and before I knew where I was, I saw my mother sitting in bed reading a book. Beside her was this tiny white little dog. (I had never seen this dog before.) I tried to talk to my mom, but she couldn’t hear me. But the dog apparently could because it barked non-stop at me. Getting a little tired and scared I said to myself, back. And everything moved rapidly in reverse, and I was soon back in my bed. This trip really tired me out and I fell asleep almost immediately. I sleep until noon the next day. Something I never did before. I got up, called the office (as it was a weekday) and told them I would be in soon. That night I called my mom. And, I discovered that she had just purchased a tiny cockapoo, white puppy. So, did I travel to her or not? I think I did.
After a while this became boring and I let it alone for a month or two. Then I began reading more and more about traveling through other dimensions. And, even though I was skeptical, I was also afraid to try it. I knew I couldn’t ask my girlfriend to help, because she believed I had stopped doing it all together. But finally one night after downing a couple of Jack Daniels and water, I said to myself, do it.
I laid there remembering everything I had read about. Soon it was pitch black. I didn’t know where I was or what direction to go. Then, all of a sudden I saw a grassy meadow and a farmhouse. I thought how nice this looked. I was instantly inside the house. I remember seeing a farmer, his wife and 2 kids, and they could see me too. The wife said it wasn’t safe for me to be there, and I should go back immediately. The children and husband just stared at me, and said nothing. The wife is getting very verbal and actually takes my arm and pushes me upwards, causing me to float back outside of the house into the air. I look around and I see a beautiful countryside, with miles and miles of open planted green fields. Then, I feel some type of danger. I didn’t see anything but I just felt it. So, back a thought and I was soon in my bed. Had I dreamed it? I wasn’t sure.
I tried it again after a couple of more nights, this time I was back in the same farmhouse, but instead of traveling there in the air seeing the beautiful fields, I was instantly in the house. Again the wife tells me to leave. But this time the husband bends over and opens the trap door to his basement. He points downward and says what I want is in there. I approach the trap door and I feel something very evil is down there. I do not see anything, but it scares me badly, and I immediately wish to retreat back to my bed. However, I am still there and all of my wishing isn’t working. I am scared, because the books say these demons want to keep you from returning if they can. It also says it can kill you if you cannot return. I remember looking at the wife, and as always she appears to want to help me. I say nothing nor does she, yet in my mind, I hear her say to keep trying. I do, and then I am able to return to my bed. I am sweating profusely, my heart is pounding and I have to get out of bed to walk around and calm down. My dog is down stairs, (She is a puppy) so, as I walk down to her, I see her looking up at me and at the walls and ceiling. She too is afraid, and when I get close enough, she comes over stands behind my feet. I wonder what is it she sees? Did something come back with me? I see nothing, but something is bothering her. Then, just as quickly as she became afraid, she is OK, as whatever it was, appears to be gone.
Soon after this event, I am transferred back to Anchorage. My girlfriend and I try for a short period of time to stay together by me flying her back and forth every other weekend. But our relationship just isn’t the same anymore. I fear my out of body experiments spooked her too badly.
Soon after getting back to Anchorage I found a lot to buy so I can build my dream house. It took about 9 months to build and I am able to move in almost a year from the date I moved back to Anchorage.
For the first few months it is just me and my dog, with occasional parties, and no serious problems. Then, one night I am bored, I decide to see if I can still just get out and roam the immediate area. I do it easily, and it is fun. I feel the night air and just float around until I decide it is enough and I return. I am now doing this maybe 2 or 3 times a week. Sometimes going downtown other times just around the neighborhood. I remember once spooking my dog, as she can obviously see me, and she knows who it is but she does not like it. So, I decide not to tease her again.
Soon I am dating a new person (who eventually becomes wife # 2) and she too is interested in the possibility of spirits and ghosts. One day she and I are at lunch, and the subject of out of body experimentation comes up. I think I was telling her about the young guy in Kenai that died of the brain tumor, and how he said he went out to visit relatives to say good-bye before he died. With that I told her of my trips. She of course didn’t believe me. So, I invited her to place some object in her bedroom that was unique and something I could never guess what it was. I had only been to her house a few times, and I was never in her bedroom. So, I figured that was a good place for her to hide something. I was confident in being able find it and prove my theory. So, that night I took her home and she promises hide something odd. I remember that it was raining that night and I had never attempted to cruse around in the rain. When I got home and went to bed, I remember that I had a very tough time getting out. I do remember getting to her house, but I was confused and could not seem to navigate around very easily. I know I looked around, but I was never sure where I was. And, before I knew it, I am back home in bed.
The next day she calls me, anxious to hear my story and to find out if I saw what she hid for me. I confessed that I think I bombed out. Then, as if by magic, an image appears to me. I said to her, do you have a French telephone? Long pause, yes. Did you have a pair of nylon stockings tied to the receiver and a light bulb tied to the other end? Even longer pause, Yes! Oh my God she exclaimed, you were actually there. Too this day I cannot remember seeing this object, but I must have.
Soon after this she began spending the nights on weekends at my house. She wanted to witness my out of body experimenting. She swore when I would leave my body I would actually slightly levitate. And, like my former girlfriend, she said a white mist would be seen rising up and out of the ceiling when I would depart. Another odd thing she would say is when I was gone the first time she thought I had died because I did not appear to be breathing. But she said she was afraid to touch me if I was not dead, thinking it would disturb my re-entry. I was never able to read what would happen if I was disturbed while I was out of body, nor whether or not I continued to breathe regularly. Obviously I did breathe, but I do not know how much.
In my first story to you I mention the door knocking, the compressions on my chest and everything else. When these things happened, I wondered if my traveling around had caused something to attach it's self to me, and I brought it back. Not knowing, I decided to completely stop the out of body experiences. And, to this very day I haven’t tried it again.
I was constantly aware of entities living in my new home. And, we became use to them. We were never fearful of anything in that house. However, when we decide to move back to California, I was forced to stay with my mom for about 2 weeks, until I could find somewhere to rent. While at her house there were no problems. However, as soon as I left she began to experience terrible hauntings. The first thing that occurred was the feeling like someone was in her bedroom, constantly trying to pull off her blankets. She said when it first began, she assumed it was her own body just rolling around, but it soon became more obvious. She got to a point she was afraid to go to sleep. Then the events escaladed. As she would sit watching TV the light from her lamps in her bedroom would switch off and on by themselves. Then she would be in her living room and her stove in the kitchen would start rocking and shaking. Dishes got knocked out of the cupboards, and her personal treasures like china knick-knacks would disappear. She was very frightened by all of this. And, I couldn’t help but wonder if my spirits in Anchorage might have somehow attached themselves to me and traveled to California, dropping off at my mother’s house while I was there. And, maybe they stayed with her because I wasn’t afraid of them and she was? However, what they obviously had not counted on was how tough she is. She took these events in stride and began getting angry at what ever it was. In fact, one night when the covers were being pulled off, she swung a crow bar she kept under her bed at it and damned it to leave her alone. Then she told what ever it was to put back her knick-knacks. And, leave the lights alone.
Then, one morning she was sitting on her front porch waiting for the morning paper to be delivered, when her stove started up shaking violently again. She just sat on the door entry, smoking a cigarette. She leans back into the house and yells at what ever it was to stop and leave. (She had never ordered it to leave before, just stop bothering her.) Now, knowing my mother, I am sure she used very firm words when ordering it to leave. She said no sooner had she told it to leave, than something very heavy stepped on her hand, which was on the floor as she sat there waiting for the paper. She said it was just as if it did it intentionally, while exiting her house. And, to this day she has never had any problems again. But, she never did find her missing knick-knacks either.