Back in the seventies we were young teenage girls growing up in the Bronx. We had moved to an area close to the Whitestone Bridge off the Bruckner Expressway. The neighborhood was old and steeped in history. Our house was built in 1905 and had only two previous owners recorded. It was four levels from basement to attic. An attic! The door opened to steep stairs leading up into the darkness. You had to step up two or three stairs to reach the cord for the light chain - unless, of course, the last person up there pulled the light chain too hard and allowed it to snap back into oblivion. Now you would have to swing your arm blindly trying to reach for it - all the while creeping up one step at a time - hoping you would feel it brush against your arm or hand before you had to take too many steps up in to the darkness. You get the picture. All in all we loved it - it was all quite a remarkable change for us as we were coming from an apartment building. We now had our own rooms and, soon, our own experiences to speak of...
Dad laughed when he told us something the previous owners said when they turned the keys over to him - don't move the buddha in the attic. The buddha was approximately ten to twelve inches high and made of metal - perhaps bronze - and sat on a small shelf by the far window. Only once did we find it moved from this spot - not long after we moved in - but no one confessed to doing it. The "activity" started about that same time. Coincindence? Possibly...but we checked regularly to make sure it was in its place.
My sister was the first to vocalize her discomfort in her room. Her room was directly across from - you guessed it - the attic door. Hers was also the first door at the top of the stairs. She constantly heard noises that sounded like someone dragging something up or down either staircase. Our mom put it off to sis' tendencies to stay up late and read "scary" books. She was often found sleeping on the floor in mom and dad's room or next to my bed. Sis also had the worst luck in walking down the stairs - and went down on her butt almost as often as on her feet! She swore she felt as though she was pushed. Runners were changed, socks were forbidden - still it continued. Our little mixed terrier mutt was constantly "chasing" something in to a wall in the dining room. No evidence of "natural" critters was ever found. Dad was the first to mention the "old man" in the living room and the "children" on the stairs.
A few years later our dad became ill and was forced to retire. Sis was off to college and the activity shifted a bit. He started talking about the "balls of light" that acted like children. He also spoke of the "black one" that made the others "run away." We thought perhaps these were illusions brought on by laser surgery he was having on his eye or the medications he was taking. Dad said that he would watch these balls of light play, what he described as "ping-pong" - and even heard small pinging noises as the lights danced back and forth in the room. The bedroom was on the second floor and there were no reflections to explain what he was seeing. The activity picked up outside of my room. Door knobs would turn and knocks would be heard. An occasional poke in the side of my ribs would make me sit up in bed. Late night footsteps on the stairs were a common occurrence. A leak in the roof in the area over my bedroom forced me to choose to stay in sis' room or the guest room. I chose sis' - at first - until I realized there was no way I was going to be able to sleep! Noises from the stairs - muffled voices - the feeling of being watched - it was overwhelming! I grabbed my pillow and headed for the other bedroom.
Dad was in the hospital for an extended stay and two of the older sisters (there were five girls - the three eldest were married with families of their own) had come to stay. After hearing our "stories" one decided to invite dad's "friends" to visit him. She found a small box, lined it with tissue paper and said aloud, "if you want to see dad, get in the box and I will take you to him." She left the box on the dining room table overnight. The next morning she closed the flaps and we took it with us to the hospital. The box was placed on the ledge by the window in dad's room. Mom and one of my sisters had gone down to the visitor's lounge. I was sitting closest to the window when I heard a rustling sound. The three of us in the room witnessed the flaps of this box open and heard the rustling of the tissue paper inside. We did not visibly witness anything come out of the box but, from that day forward - and for as long as he was there - dad said he had one of his little "friends" riding around on his foot!
Both of these sisters had their own experiences in the house. One was "tucked" in to the bed so tightly she had to fight to get her arms free of the covers - and accused us of doing it! The other said she had attempted to get up but could not - because "something" or "someone" was holding her down by the ankles! Neither one wanted to return - and certainly not spend the night. In the following months, both sisters felt that dad had unintentionally brought some of his "friends" with him when he visited their homes.
Following college, sis married and moved to Indiana and found herself in - you guessed it - another "active" house. This time it was an old farmer and a cat. Her husband was not so inclined to believe anything was going on and she learned to "co-habitate" with whatever it was. Two years later I moved to Indiana and lived with my sister and her family for a few months until I found my own place. It wasn't long before I was introduced to the resident farmer and the cat that liked to brush past you in the door. Her husband had his own experience when they returned from a trip back east. We were in a brutal cold snap and had been hit with a series of snow storms. I was not able to make it out to their house to check on it and the freezing of pipes was a serious concern. He was the first to make it to the front door and came back to the car as white as a sheet. He told sis he had just seen her "friend" - apparently the old farmer was standing in the doorway! Everything was fine in the house - there was even fresh droplets of water in the sinks - even though no one could have made it up their drive through the drifts in more than a week!
Sis, her then two-year-old daughter, and I made an emergency trip to the Bronx when dad was scheduled for another surgery. The first night there we heard my little niece chatting away. She was leaning on her little elbows on the bottom landing looking up the stairs. My sister asked her who she was talking to - my niece pointed to the top landing and said, "the kids!" She went on to describe a boy and a girl. It should come as no surprise that we all chose to sleep in the same room that night. Sure enough, dad's little friends decided to entertain us with "ping-pong."
We both became involved in raising our families. Mom and dad eventually moved to Indiana but, sadly, dad passed away shortly after their arrival. Mom settled in to her new home here in Warsaw and - you guessed it - it was an active house! Mom was less willing to admit as to why she chose to sleep downstairs or why she slept so much during the day. Over the years, visiting family and family members that had extended stays, reported numerous occurrences of unusual activity.We can only conjecture at this point as Mom, too, has passed on and the house was sold - and has since been turned in to a parking lot.
Sis and I had been through so many changes in our lives. We both divorced. Sis suffered the devastating loss of her son in a car accident. My son's best friend, who lived with us at the time, also lost his life in that accident. We both went through exhaustive times taking care of our mom as she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and needed full time care.
Following mom's passing, sis spotted an article in the Fort Wayne Journal Gazette. It spoke of people gathering at the Mansfield Reformatory in Ohio to investigate paranormal activity.
"We have to do this!" was all she had to say. A couple of phone calls later, I had us scheduled for our first "ghost hunt."
It seemed odd, at first, to go looking for paranormal activity. We were ecstatic to find that there were others you could talk to about such things without being met with the condescending, "sure-you-see-things-and-must-be-outta-your-mind" kind of look. We had spent so much time "quietly" trying to find out what was happening and why. We know what it's like to be afraid of the unknown, but we have learned that there are options available. Strange things DO happen. Anomalies DO occur. Paranormal activity is more common than most want to admit. This is why we have dedicated as much free time as we can muster to investigating areas, structures, and private residences known and/or reported to be "active." We do not believe that every report of paranormal activity leads to a haunting. Nor do we believe that every orb in a picture means there is a ghost. We do not use, or encourage the use, of Ouija boards. We do not engage in seances. If you are contacting us for help, then you already have enough activity and need not invite any more. Our convictions are faith-based and provide a strong foundation of strength and protection. We DO take every investigation seriously and firmly believe that NO one should be afraid to live in their own home.
Should find yourself dealing with something you don't quite understand and are looking for someone to listen, prove, or disprove the activity you are seeing or experiencing - contact us! Your story will not sound unusual - we promise!
We can listen. We can investigate. We will make every attempt to capture some "hard evidence" to help you validate your experience. Most importantly, we want to help. If it is something that is beyond our scope of experience or capability, we will direct you to someone who can help you. There's never any charge and your confidentiality is protected.
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