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Did you know that some people don’t feel frightened of ghosts or spirits? Some claim to have only had positive experiences, believe it or not. There’s a theory indicating that any time a person experiences extremely strong emotions, that some kind of energy from that person is deposited in a physical space. Quite often that emotion turns out to be something negative like fear, sadness, or remorse. Usually it’s due to some kind of trauma, and may explain why some people claim they feel something “negative” or “oppressed” when they walk into an unfamiliar room. But if this is true, why couldn’t it be possible for positive emotions like love or joy to produce the same effect?
Today’s statement comes to us in the form of a letter, and though I haven’t quite linked it to a specific investigation or any other similar reports, I thought it was worthy of sharing for the simple reminder that things may not always be what you think. The letter doesn’t have a formal introduction, but it was included in a “thank you” card addressed to Ron, and unfortunately there’s no date listed. It reads:
Dear Ron,
I can’t thank you enough for your help finding my daughter. I wasn’t sure you would actually consider taking a case from an 80 year-old man who everyone believes is insane. The truth is, I’ve been locked in this facility without the freedom to make my own choices about much of anything for so long, I am quite certain I am crazy now as a result. Whether that’s true or not, I am truly grateful I was able to connect with my daughter and I have you to thank for that. Until now, you’ve only known part of my story, and I’m pretty sure you’d be interested in hearing the whole thing.
I know you are steering away from taking on cases like mine, and are focusing more lately on what you might call “bizarre” or “unexplained” types of situations. I am confident the universe is telling you to do this because that’s what my case has turned out to be, even though I didn’t realize that when I solicited your services. You see, now that I have been reconnected with my daughter, I may have an explanation for something that has been going on since my childhood back in the 1930s that I’ve never been able to understand.
When I was 5 years old, I had my first experience of many that changed how I viewed the world. I grew up in the height of the depression. Luckily we didn’t lose our house, but we couldn’t afford much. I didn’t have a swing set in my backyard like the kids do these days, and I used to play around on a stack of old tractor tires in our yard. I was just as entertained as anyone doing with what we had.
In April, 1935, I was playing on a stack of those tires. I only remember the date because it was right after the great dust storm passed through. Well, I hadn’t seen a snake that had been coiled up inside one of the tires toward the top of the pile, and I got bitten. Ma must have seen it happen through our kitchen window because she was out there in no time to check on me. She grabbed a shovel from the shed and killed that snake because she didn’t know if it was venomous. Then she went back in the house and brought out my stuffed bunny.
The last time I was sick, she had made it for me, and it always brought me great comfort. I knew that she made it because the fabric had the same pattern that our curtains had. She even made eyes out of buttons. She told me to sit still, and then ran over to the neighbors to see if they could fetch the doctor.
When she went to the neighbors, I was sitting on the ground next to that dead snake when I looked up and saw a woman looking out at me from our kitchen window. I didn’t recognize her, and she was dressed strangely. All of our clothes were ragged and faded, but hers had bright colors, and she had a lot of makeup on her face. She had long, brown, wavy hair and she wore spectacles. She appeared to be about as old as ma was, and she also seemed just as startled as me, but she smiled and I believe her eyes were welling up. As soon as I saw her reaction, an overwhelming sensation of comfort came over me, and I knew everything was going to be okay. Then she completely vanished.
Pa got home at about the same time as the doctor that day, and I was in bed already developing a fever. The doc gave me something to swallow and told me to stay in bed until my fever broke. I can’t remember how long I was laid up in bed, but it seemed like weeks, though I’m sure it was only a day or two.
I used to see her all the time. She wouldn’t always show up as clearly visible as she did that first time. Sometimes she’d be kind of see-through, and others, she would just look like a gray or black cloud without any distinguishing features. I just knew it was her because of that comforted feeling I experienced in her presence. It took me until I was an adult away from home to identify that feeling as nostalgia, the same feeling when I would return home for the holidays and visit with my folks. I never hid the fact that I was seeing her, but my parents grew worried about me as I got older and continued to see her, even as an adult.
Being an only-child, I inherited that house when they passed, and I eventually started a family of my own. Unfortunately, that marriage was not meant to last, and as you know, I wouldn’t see my daughter after age 3 until you found her for me. But life went on, and I never stopped seeing the woman in the window as an adult. I even saw here in different rooms throughout the house. The beauty of that was I could enjoy the experience now without anyone thinking I was crazy. That is, until I broke my hip.
Apparently after my hip surgery, when I was in the hospital on some very good pain medication, I was rambling on and on about the lady in the window. Of course, I didn’t realize I was going on about her until my nurse started asking me questions. I thought she was curious about her, so I told her about seeing her over the years, and I had even seen her right before I broke my hip.
What I didn’t realize was she was cunningly doing some kind of psychiatric evaluation on me, which landed me here in this house full of crazies. There comes a moment in your life where you can almost see the finish line, and you begin thinking about your legacy, and what you’ll leave behind. That’s when I contacted you. I wanted to get in touch with my daughter. I didn’t know if she hated me, or even remembered me. Who knows what my ex-wife had told her about me, but I needed to know she was okay.
When you got in touch with her, and I learned she was eager to meet with me, that was the best news I think I’ve ever had. Just knowing that makes me feel like I can leave this world feeling like I made some kind of difference. Instead of looking forward to going back home to see the lady in the window, which I’m not sure will ever happen at this point, I had my visit with my daughter to look forward to.
Then one day, my nurse opened the door and said I had a visitor. I couldn’t see her face at first through the bouquet of flowers she was carrying. When she lowered them onto the table, I saw her face. She had long, brown wavy hair, and she wore spectacles. She looked like she had put on her Sunday best for our visit, and was wearing bright pastel colors.
I immediately broke down in tears because I recognized her. She was the lady in the window I had been seeing since childhood. I didn’t know if I was crying tears of joy because I had figured that out, or if I was just really happy to see her finally. I think it was probably both. That familiar nostalgia set in fast. As it turns out, she is married and has two kids of her own. And she lives in town, just 5 or 6 miles over! I chose not to tell her about all of those times I’d seen her in the window. The last thing I wanted her to think was that I might be crazy.
Since then, she has visited me every weekend, and I have been introduced to my son in law and my grandchildren. I can’t remember a time I’ve been this happy. Last weekend, I let her know that I put her in my will to get my house and gave her my keys in case she wanted to go walk through the place. I wasn’t sure if she would remember it or not having been so young the last time she was there. I apologized for its current state since I hadn’t been there in so long. I wasn’t quite sure what it looked like with no one around to take care of it, but it has been paid off a long time.
Today, she returned and said she had gone over to the house this morning before heading here. I asked her how the place was, and if it needed any repairs. She said everything looked fine, though the electricity hadn’t been hooked up, and it was getting dusty. She did remember the house just a little bit, but not a whole lot.
Then she asked me if she could tell me something crazy. I just smiled and said, “Have you seen the people staying in this place? Please do, so I don’t feel like a crazy person.” She asked if I believed in ghosts. Of course, I told her I do, and that I also believed that not all ghosts are bad. Then she said that when she was in the house, she had gone into the kitchen to look at the cabinets and countertops, and when she passed by the window, she saw movement in the yard out of the corner of her eye. So she looked through the window and saw a little boy dressed in gray pants and a button up shirt just sitting in the yard, staring at her holding a stuffed animal. At first she thought it might have been one of the neighbor’s kids, but the clothing looked old. But then she handed me that old stuffed bunny that Ma made so long ago, and said, “then I found this in one of the bedrooms.”
I smiled and told her not to be afraid of the boy. She said she wasn’t scared at all, but she felt more of a peaceful feeling in that moment. So I encouraged her to look for him often because he might just feel the same way, and I was sure that there was a purpose for her experience. She kind of looked at me sideways as if she thought I was pulling her leg, but then she said she would. I think we had an understanding in that moment.
My doctor has since given me the option of returning home, as long as I have someone to check in on me from time to time. I decided to go home this week so I could get the house ready for company on Thanksgiving Day. My daughter has a few days off work and said she can drive me. I’m told they’ve got the gas and electric hooked back up, and they’re going to be cooking a turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, yams, and pumpkin pie for dessert. You are more than welcome to join us, so be there for food around 3:00 p.m. if you can. If you can’t make it, then feel free to drop in anytime. You’re always welcome in my home. I can’t thank you enough!
We know so little about ghosts, spirits, and other paranormal phenomena. Anyone who claims they are an “expert” is probably looking to make a quick buck. Theories come and go, but for this man, the haunting of his home was a welcomed experience which gave him a sense of fulfillment that he will continue to have for the rest of his life, and quite possibly, his daughter’s too.
Of course, if you’re experiencing a haunting yourself, I’m not suggesting you throw caution to the wind, but take note of what’s going on, look around you, and ask yourself “who could it be, and why are they here?” You may just end up being thankful for the experience at some point in the future.
This week is a time to give thanks. So I would like to take a moment to thank you, the listeners, who keep coming back to listen to these accounts. I’m still not exactly sure I have identified the person who originally owned the storage unit, or if he or she is still alive. But I’m thankful to have found myself in my current situation, sharing these stories with you, and making new connections every day.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the podcast and I hope you’ll consider letting me know in the form of a review in iTunes or your favorite platform for listening. You can get all the latest updates by following me on Twitter and Instagram @StoragePapers. I hope you have a Happy Thanksgiving, and please, stay safe in your travels.
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