SPOOKED!

WHEN WE RE­PORTED ON THE GHOST HUNTER IN AMER­ICA, WE ASKED YOU TO TELL US YOUR OWN CREEPY TALES. READ AND BE SPOOKED.

The Advertiser - SA Weekend - - LETTERS / CONTENTS -

Read­ers re­veal their per­sonal ex­pe­ri­ences with the spirit world.

THE OLD DAIRY

ABOUT

25 years ago we owned a dairy farm, orig­i­nally a sol­dier set­tler farm from what I gath­ered. One day about 4.45am in the cold of win­ter I was walk­ing up to the dairy in the dark like so many times be­fore. Close to the new dairy shed down the drive­way was an old tin dairy, long un­used. As I neared the shed, I saw out of the corner of my eye a man stand­ing in the old dairy, look­ing across at me. It was very dark and the wind was whip­ping the trees and bushes around. He raised his arm to­wards me as if to ac­knowl­edge me and turned and seemed to glide rather than walk through a gate and around to­wards the orig­i­nal homestead, which was empty.

With the hairs stand­ing up on my head and prick­ling over me, I ran to­ward the gate, an­gry and scared all at the same time yelling as if to prove my man­hood and not ap­pear in­tim­i­dated. Once I was at the gate I could see the im­age more clearly at the top of a few short steps at the door of the house. With a stare in my di­rec­tion the fig­ure seemed to blend into the door­way and was gone. Scared, I re­treated to the milk­shed and turned on all the lights and flood­lights.

About a fort­night later a car came up our drive and there was a man with a cou­ple of chil­dren. He in­tro­duced him­self as the son of the orig­i­nal owner and said that he had driven by out of nostal­gia to show his own chil­dren where he had spent his child­hood. Ap­par­ently his fa­ther had passed away in a nurs­ing home at a very old age around the time of my see­ing the fig­ure. I didn’t tell him so as not to up­set him; nor my wife and kids as I didn’t want them be­ing scared to ven­ture any­where near the house again.

I have never seen the fig­ure again, but I vividly re­mem­ber the night.

For­mer dairy farmer Mark (name and ad­dress supplied)

SAVED BY A SPIRIT

When I was about seven or eight years old, an an­gel or ghost saved me from al­most cer­tain death. At that time, I lived with my mother in a two-storey ho­tel at Port Ade­laide and I nor­mally slept on the ve­randa of the first floor. One night, I awoke to see a lady dressed in a white flow­ing dress stand­ing at the door. At first I thought that it may have been my mother and I called out, but there was no an­swer. Pet­ri­fied, I turned my head away. When I looked back the lady had van­ished. I then ran into my mother’s bed­room where she was asleep in bed. Fright­ened, I spent the night sleep­ing in her bed.

Dur­ing the night a vi­o­lent storm erupted and the ve­randa crashed to the ground. A doll’s bassinet, which I kept there, was thrown to the other side of the road. But for the visi­ta­tion by the mys­te­ri­ous ghostly lady, that could have been me!

Beu­lah Hayter, High­bury

MAN IN THE HAT

My hus­band and I were liv­ing with my mum for a while be­fore we got mar­ried. She was away on hol­i­day so we were alone in the house. It was par­tic­u­larly hot so we set up a mat­tress in the lounge area so we could sleep where it was cooler. Some­thing woke me and I felt like I was be­ing watched. I lay per­fectly still, looked over to­ward the wall – and there was a man with a hat on. I thought I was imag­in­ing things or still asleep and dream­ing. Next thing my hus­band shot up and turned on all the lights. I quickly asked him what was wrong and he said: “Didn’t you see that man with the hat on over there?” Well some­one def­i­nitely walked over my grave then, shivers all up and down my spine! We have no idea who it was, but thought it may have been my dad who had died many years be­fore and was check­ing up on us.

Robyn Eick­hoff, Happy Val­ley

FREAKY EYES

When I was eight I saw a ghost. Well, first I went to bed in my top bunk and woke up in the mid­dle of the night and I saw some fuzzy vi­sion. I was re­ally scared so I closed my eyes. When I opened them I saw this man with a hood right in front of my eyes. I could not see his face very well but his eyes were freaky and he was like right in front of my face. My brother was still asleep. I put the cov­ers over my head I was so freaked out. I looked again and he was gone.

I saw him a cou­ple times more and it’s al­ways the same. There was a lot more of them af­ter that. Some were old peo­ple but some seem nicer than you think, a bit like your Nana and Papa but prob­a­bly that hooded guy was the scari­est and I don’t think he was very nice.

Lots of things went wrong in that house. There was a rot­ten smell some­times and the house flooded and a fan broke off the ceil­ing and hit my baby brother on the head. Mum and dad saw things too. We got the house cleared and then we moved to the United Arab Emi­rates.

The first house we stayed in there was a boy stand­ing on the stairs and didn’t want us to go up. Then all these things went wrong in the house so we moved out. Mum and dad tell me they are part of life and not to give them too much en­ergy. What do you think?

Liam Wil­loughby, 10

THE DARK-HAIRED MAN

Some years ago I was at my then-girl­friend’s home in Seaton. It was a warm sum­mer night and we de­cided to go out to the back­yard and sit out on a pic­nic blan­ket. We were talk­ing and had a ra­dio with us. I looked to­ward the back­yard garage, and some­thing kept me fo­cused there. I saw an ap­pari­tion of a tall dark-haired man walk across the yard and into the garage. I thought to my­self “oh” ; then, my girl­friend said to me: “ I saw that man too!”

I hadn’t told her what I saw but she told me out­right: “You did see him too – didn’t you?”

Later, I dis­cov­ered when we looked at her fam­ily pho­tos the ap­pari­tion I/we saw looked much like her de­ceased fa­ther. I never met her fa­ther, and she only vaguely re­mem­bered him as he died when she was quite young. I be­lieve it was my for­mer girl­friend’s fa­ther watch­ing over his daugh­ter, even if he couldnt “be there”.

Dave Fed­cheshen, An­gle Vale

WHAT WAS SHE LOOK­ING FOR? My clos­est en­counter with an ap­pari­tion was at our old house in the Un­ley area. Since mov­ing into it in 1991, my hus­band and I, and an adult guest stay­ing with us for a year, ex­pe­ri­enced some un­usual phe­nom­ena. The clos­est en­counter for me was in 2003. By then I had three chil­dren – two girls and a boy. One typ­i­cal Satur­day morn­ing, while my hus­band raced off to the corner deli to get our week­end paper, I was walk­ing down the cor­ri­dor when I re­mem­bered to get some­thing out of my son’s room. He was only three and we had just put him into his own bed. Be­side his bed was his old cot and in­side the cot I had only just placed his crib.

Well, as I was about to en­ter my son’s room I saw my el­dest daugh­ter lean­ing over the cot, her feet up on the low­ered rails, and she was look­ing in­side the crib. She seemed very in­tent and fo­cused. I called out to her: “What are you do­ing?” She ig­nored me at first but fi­nally I got her at­ten­tion. I saw a hor­ri­fied look on her face, like some­how I had star­tled her. She then quickly darted be­hind the cot as if to hide from me.

Now I was get­ting very cross, but the thought ran through my head: how can she pos­si­bly squeeze her­self be­hind the cot when there is a large dark wooden rock­ing horse be­tween the cot and the wall? Her long dark hair was tied back in a pony tail and then her hair and the tail of the rock­ing horse be­come one: my daugh­ter had dis­ap­peared into thin air.”

“Who are you talk­ing to mum?” said a voice walk­ing up the cor­ri­dor. There she was, my el­dest daugh­ter. Ini­tially I felt shock fol­lowed by dis­be­lief and fear but now I just feel priv­i­leged. I was given the op­por­tu­nity to tem­po­rar­ily see into an­other world. Some­times, I still won­der, what was she look­ing for?

Name and ad­dress with­eld

MR HARMAN

When we bought our house al­most 40 years ago we dis­cov­ered the pre­vi­ous owner’s hus­band had died there. Noth­ing out of the or­di­nary hap­pened un­til we had chil­dren. Then we no­ticed our small dog, Monty, would lie in the door­way to the pas­sage and growl very qui­etly. There never seemed any rea­son for his be­hav­iour. One evening when I was home alone a shape moved down the pas­sage. I was ter­ri­fied, think­ing some­one had bro­ken in. I took a carv­ing knife and searched the front of the house. There was noth­ing there, but Monty took up his spot in the door­way. When the fam­ily came home I still had the knife in hand. My hus­band joked that I had prob­a­bly seen a ghost. But I think he was right. The “shape”, which we named Mr Harman, vis­ited us many times. There was never any strange noise or things be­ing moved just the fig­ure mov­ing in the pas­sage as if he was mak­ing sure all was OK in his home. In time we all saw Mr Harman and we be­came com­fort­able with his vis­its. Later, we had ma­jor ren­o­va­tions on the house and we have not seen him since but ev­ery once in a while one of us will ask, I won­der where Mr Harman is now?

Nancy Stood­ley, Ful­ham Gar­dens

“WAY GO!” In 1996 in Or­lando, Florida, we stayed at the Ra­mada Ho­tel in Kis­simee. On the first night we kept get­ting bang­ing noises in the roof space which sounded like kids run­ning around in the room and jump­ing off the bed. I con­tacted re­cep­tion who sent up se­cu­rity. They could not hear any of the noises, but when they left, it started again. This hap­pened re­peat­edly over a cou­ple of days.

Noth­ing changed, so the next night I went up­stairs to

Joyce at his St Ge­orge prop­erty.

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