Amarillo Experiences

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

Date: Fri, 6 Mar 1998 10:43:46 -0800 (PST)
yourname Stephanie

In order to tell the whole story, I have to go into some kinda boring background information. In 1993, I had moved from Houston, Texas to Amarillo, Texas to live with my boyfriend. I have never believed in the supernatural and found it quite amusing that my boyfriend’s mother did. She told me all kinds of stories about this house she had lived in a few blocks away, as a teenager-how dishes would fly around, how the only record that would work on their record player was Abbey Road, by the Beatles-all sorts of silly things. The first incident occured at a friend of my boyfriend’s sister’s. We were all there hanging out, and one of the girls starts talking about these “shadows” that follow her around. She said that she used to be scared of them, but they had never harmed her, and she found it slightly amusing now. I thought that they were messing with me, because I was older, like they thought it would funny if they could scare me. I expressed my disbelief, and a few moments later, the girl said, “Look at the door; you can see the shadow!” I looked and, sure enough, it looked as if a person was walking by. The door had that stained glass kind of window that you can see shapes through, but you can’t make out who it is. I ran to the door and opened it, expecting to catch one of the girls running to hide, but noone was there. I was still very much in doubt, and made a joke of it, saying, “Okay, Spirit, make yourself known.”

About one minute later, an alarm clock came on, that wouldn’t shut off until we unplugged it (who sets their alarm at 10:30pm?). Needless to say, all of us were a little nervous then. I STILL had my doubts until I looked in the hallway and saw like a blueish fog completely blocking off the hallway like a wall. Now, we all smoke, and my first reaction was to nudge my boyfriend’s sister, who was staring at it, with the same expression I felt on my own face. “Do you see that?” She nodded. “It’s smoke, right?” She nodded again, and right as she did, the smoke, or fog or whatever it was looked as if it were sucked into one of the hallway bedrooms. We screamed, and as we got up to run for the door, I swear I saw the fog coming at us! I have never been so scared in my life. I almost peed in my pants! We ran through the apartment complex, and told my boyfriend and his parents what we had seen.

Of course his mother believed us, but my boyfriend and his dad thought it was hilarious. They kept laughing about “the blue light” as they called it. This was the beginning of a years worth of experiences. Experiences that have completely stopped ever since I left Amarillo, Texas. I will continue them in another post right now, as this one is getting so long!

Date: Fri, 6 Mar 1998 11:12:52 -0800 (PST)
yourname Stephanie

I was living with my boyfriend in Amarillo, Texas when these things began. After about three months, I moved out (yeah, yeah), and moved in with a good friend. She lived in a duplex, half of which was condemned and completely boarded up.

One night, while we were attempting to go to sleep, I asked her if she would mind turning off the radio-she had this annoying habit of sleeping with it on. She said that she slept with it on for a reason-that someone; a homeless person or something; walked up and down the stairs all night on the other half of the duplex, every night, and she couldn’t sleep. I didn’t believe her, and asked her to turn it off, and sure enough, you could hear it perfectly through the wall, creaking with every step. I was pretty scared-a crazy homeless person who walks up and down stairs all night didn’t sound too safe to me, but she said that was all he did, and to ignore it. I did, for a few nights. We listened every night to see if it was happening again, and every night, right around 9pm, it would start. One night, we were home watching tv, and it started banging on the wall as it walked up and down the stairs.

We were very scared, and called the police, who came out-it stopped immediately, of course, and said that there was no way anyone could be getting in and out of that side of the house. We did have a closet with a door that led to the other side, but it was boarded up as well, and after checking that, the police said there wasn’t any way.

Needless to say, we were REALLY scared then. We started sleeping downstairs, so that we didn’t have to hear it. That’s when my things started disappearing. It was always things I really needed-my cigarettes, my tampons, they would disappear as soon as I brought them in the house. One time, the hair dryer disappeared after I used it.

My friend called me at work, asking where it was, although it wasn’t where I said.When I got home from work, it was in the doorway, like an offering (I know that sounds dumd, but it was how I felt), even though my friend had never found it. The scariest thing happened one night, when we were getting ready for bed, and the walking was much faster that usual. I made a joke, like, “Slow down-you have all of eternity to walk the stairs”, and it got louder and faster. I started praying out loud-we were both crying-and eventually it stopped-only to start again the next night.

I decided to move out, and when I did, I went through the dresser upstairs that was in the closet that had the doorway that went to the other side(in the house that Jack built-j/k). All my missing cigarettes, and tampons were there, in the bottom drawer. A couple of months later, I was talking to ex-boyfriend’s mother(mentioned in my first post) about the house she had lived in, and we realized that it was owned by the same people that owned my friend’s house. I did go by that house once, and when looking at it, I was overcome by this awful feeling. Have you ever felt pure evil? I had never felt that at the duplex, but looking at this house, I did. We drove away almost immediately, neither of us wanting to look at it any more. The story with that house is that, even though noone lives there, every time you walk by, if you comment on the house, you will see two old people walking through the yard. We didn’t see them when we went, but I do think I saw a shadow in the upstairs window. I didn’t think it was wierd until I later found out the house has been vacant for years. One more thing (I know this is dragging on), I have heard that the house belonged to a minister who killed his wife and son and buried them under the house. One of the men who later lived there found a piece of ministers clothing in the attic, which he kept, only to be plagued by voices and other things until he later burned it….E-mail me if you want; I would love to hear comments!

Alyssa’s Story

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From: “Alyssa Holstock” (
Subject: Scary Story; Title: Alyssa’s Story
Date: Sunday, December 01, 2002 8:32 PM
Location: Indeterminate

I am 16 years old, and I have a wonderfully horrible Mom. She thinks that because I am a teenager, I should have the largest bedroom in the house .. but the horrible part is that it is the haunted one! Several incidents have occurred here, some of which you are about to hear, and others that occurred in other areas of the house. So grab a beverage, sit back and be scared- I hope!

The first incident I will tell you about happened in April or so of last year. Me and my mom are really lazy sometimes and we still had not taken down the Christmas tree. She was off in Florida for a vacation so I thought I would take down the tree as a nice surprise for when she came home. So there I was, television off, lights on, taking off the ornaments. As I took off each ornament I would go over the memories of when each was received. When all of a sudden all of the musical ornaments started to sing. I was freaked out already because I found a spider in the tree so this was not helping me. I calmed myself down after fleeing the room and came back in and proceeded to remove the ornaments. It was then that I turned the tree around to take the ornaments off of the back when there stood out a single little, antique, wooden green train. It didn’t phase me until I realized that it didn’t belong to us! I again fled the room upstairs to the nearest telephone turning on all the lights as I went. When I reached a phone I tried to call my mom down in Florida but it would not call out! So I ran over to the store and called my mom from the pay phone. Needless to say, I was crying my eyes out when my mom told me that it sounded similar to one that her deceased brother once owned. She TRIED to calm me down, and I went home. I didn’t finish taking down the tree until she came home.

Another incident did not even happen at my house. I was at my Grandma’s house and it was right around Christmas of last year. We had on the Carols and we were sitting across from each other chatting up a storm about how cold it was outside, etc when she commented that the song we were listening to (Jingle Bells) was her deceased son’s favorite song. The conversation went on, but as we were talking the volume on the song slowly started to go up until it rapidly blared! We were frozen in a glare of horror at each other. I jumped up and ran over to turn it down so that it would not go any louder and when I touched the volume control it was freezing. I sat back down and she thanked me for turning it down. That was the new topic of our conversation.

One time when I was in my room (at the time it was not my room) I looked into the vent and saw something shiny. Being poor I thought it was a dollar so I tried to get off the vent cover but it was stuck and I could not get it off because it was too heavy for my finger nails (keep this in mind). So I went and got a butter knife. This was used to remove it but it was not a dollar, just a piece of steel wool. So I put the cover back on and went about my ways. A couple weeks later my mom told me to go upstairs and get a piece of paper off of her end table. As I approached the table I noticed that the vent cover was removed and I could not find it. I called down to my mom asking her why she took it off (nobody else lives with us except a dog), and she came up commenting that it must have been the dog that she heard taking it off. Now, does that make any sense? If I cannot even get it off, how could you expect a dog too? So we could not find the cover, it ended up being in the center of the bed underneath.

However, this is not the only incident that has occurred involving that vent. My brother was spending the night in that room one night. We did not find out about this until we told him about the vent incident above. It turns out that in the middle of the night it became very cold in the room and he woke to see a “woman floating” above the vent. She was apparently wearing a pink dress with the ribbing to make it poof at the bottom and lots of lace. She also had on a pink bonnet and a pink lace umbrella over her shoulder. He was drawn back into his sleep however, and has not seen the woman since.

Now all of these incidents occurred before I moved into the room. Now for the incidents that occurred after I moved into it- about 4 months ago. First things first, it is always freezing in the room even though the vent is going. One night I was laying in bed with my door closed and it was completely dark. Not being able to sleep I started to look around. I looked under my desk and saw two little fixed green lights. I thought it may have been something glow in the dark so I did not think too much about it. But they would not go away, and it was all I could think about, so I hollered for my mom to come and see if she could see it. She “claimed” that she could not and left the door open. However, it was still dark, and I could still see those two little green “orbs”. They were about the size of -say- an apple. So still thinking that they might be something that was glow in the dark I had my mom come back and turn on the lights. She must have thought I was being really childish at 15, but I was scared. When she turned on the light, there was nothing there! No glow, not even something that could have been glow in the dark, not even dust! It was clean! So I asked her to turn the lights back off but stay there so she did. When she turned the light off I got as close as I could without having a heart attack and they were still there, no blur to them, clear green oval shaped glowy thingys! My mom still claimed that she couldn’t see anything, so I slept with my light on that night.

Finally, the most recent events. It happened about 2 days ago. I was home alone and I was laying in bed with my dog trying to fall asleep. All of a sudden, my dog became alert despite her age and stared at my door. I noticed my door and it appeared to be moving back and forth. Thinking that it was my imagination I shrugged it off. But my eyes kept going back to the handle and every time that I did so, a black foggy mist would envelope me so that I could not see anything else. I was frightened but I could not fathom getting up and trying to go near my door. Also, for some reason, every time I open my closet door and leave the room it will close by itself. I try to tell my mom these things but she just does not believe me! I hate it! She makes me believe that it is a figment of my imagination! Why can she not just believe me and let it be. Maybe I would not be so scared if she would just believe me and help me deal with it.

Now aside from my house, I think that whatever is in my house is interested in the computer! If I forget to turn on the t.v. and it is really quite and listen- I can hear someone in the computer room typing and clicking the mouse! It is like whoever it is, they died before they had a chance to experience it. Finally, one day I went on a glass bottom boat ride I took a couple of pictures of sunken ships that sunk in shallow water and when I got them developed there is a little boy standing near the front of the ship that is close to the water reaching for something. It is clearly a ghost because it is a whitish color, or very pale blue like he died of hypothermia which is possible because the temperatures of the waters are just above freezing level. Now that you have read almost all of my scary experiences and knowing a few of yours, thank you for your time and know that we fear the unknown, so get to know the unknown and then maybe we wont be scared anymore!

Alyssa Holstock

Airplane Ghost

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

I heard a story from my grandfather, after had I told him about a story I read that was posted here. This will be my last chance since UNOmaha is pulling all INTERNET accounts for the summer for account maintenance.

My grandfather was raised in Howard, South Dakota, a small town about 70 miles from Siox Falls. During his childhood he and his friends had to keep themselves entertained in order to keep out of trouble, which wasn’t that easy. When he was about eight, he and his friends developed an infatuation with the airplane. They would pass the time reading through airplane books, comic books, and playing with toy airplanes. Their imaginations ran wild.

Only a few of this group of ten boys had even ever seen a real airplane, so when the local banker bought one to fly as a hobby they were at the airport every time it left the ground. One afternoon the banker (can’t remember his name) noticed the boys as he was coming in for a landing. After getting it tied down he called the boys over to let them look at it up close. This was a dream come true, but of course it wasn’t enough. One of the boys, my grandpas best friend (Myron) asked if he could fly with him the next day. The banker laughed and said that he would take the boys up two at a time starting the next day.

Since they were going to take them up two at a time, Myron and my grandpa were to go up first. They hardly slept that night thinking about the next day. When it finally came around my grandpa jumped out of bed running only to find out that his mother would not let him go up in one of them “infernal aircrafts.”

He was crushed but decided to go watch anyway. Another boy jumped in with Myron and the banker, and off they went. But what happened next made him glad he didn’t go up. The banker came in over a shelter belt that divided the courthouse from the high school, as the plane turned belly up, the two boys plummetted into the trees below.

Word quickly spread and soon the entire town was on the scene. Both boys were presumed dead, but it took the police dept. a couple hours to find My- ron impaled 75 foot up, the trunk of a tree straight through his small frame. Again my grandpa was crushed, the banker was run out of town, and strange things began to happen in the shelter belt. Reports of glowing trees began to come from many high school students that had to walk through the thick tree belt on the way to school, a few even reported seeing a small boy run into the thick underbrush, without any noise.

The strangest was yet to come. During WWII my Grandpa (Fred) joined the air force and became a belly gunner on a B-17 bomber. During his tenure on one crew, he claimed 6 major casualties (brought down six large aircraft) “singlehandedly”. It was his 4th and 5th that came with some assistance. A shell had struck the turret, limiting the motion of the gun. As he tried to swing around he met resistance and the turret recoiled knocking him un- conscious. As he woke up the gun was firing and before his eyes the turret made a full revolution and struck an enemy plane bringing it down. He went to grab the gun but was pushed back. He heard the voice of a child say “no way, it’s still my turn!!” He was dumbfounded, he just sat there until the plane landed. As he was getting out, he noticed Myron’s favorite “Flying Aces” comic book laying on the floor of the turret. Later that afternoon, Fred recieved a bravery medal for saving his crew from the two enemy gun- ships that were much more powerful than their B-17. He never told anyone about the story until much later.

Airforce Ghost

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

From: (Bob Hearn)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Military Ghosts
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 1994 18:15:00 GMT

Well, first off, let me say that this story does not represent the opinion of the United States Military in anyway, nor does it reflect on any official military history. It is personal experience, along with some recollections from some folks that served in the same maintenance shop I was in. That disclaimer having been made, let’s go…

I’m a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force, serving at Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, Nevada. I’ve been here nearly 10 years, having arrived on station in on 1 Nov 84. I was initially assigned to the Jet Engine Intermediate Mainten- ance Facility, Bld 858. I’m a jet engine mechanic.

Building 858 is a mutt of a building, initially being built in the mid 1960s as a single hangar. Later, they added a larger hangar behind the original and yet another hangar later. I don’t know the full history of the building, of things that may have happened in it, or of the site that it is built upon. I do know from personal experience that there were some strange things happening in it.

My first experience with “the ghost of 858” was back in 1987. I was working swingshift, acting as the NCOIC of the newly formed -220 maintenance section. The other squadron we shared the building with had gone home, as had the other maintenance sections. I was alone in the building, waiting for the last F-15 and F-16 sorties to come down for the night. I can’t recall the exact times, but it was between 0000 and 0100. I was sitting at a desk in the office, in front of an open doorway that faced out into our maintenance bay. The bay is approximately 40 feet wide, 100 feet deep, and about 2.5 stories tall at the top of the peaked roof. From my desk, I could look out the door and see almost wall to wall along the width of the building, and as the office was against the end wall of the bay, I could see the entire length of the bay.

I was reading a book, and suddenly I could hear footsteps. I was expecting the CRS Expediter to come in, so I immediately thought it was him entering the bay, but I didn’t hear the fire doors open. I looked up, and could see no one in the bay. Leaving my office, I stepped out in the bay, called out, and got no response. Shrugging off the incident, I returned to my desk and my book. Then, through the peripheral vision above the book (hard to explain what I mean… you’re reading and see stuff above the top of the book) I saw someone walking across the width of the bay. I looked up, and saw no one. Now I start to get the chills. Reading again, I hear the footsteps again, and also see the person walking the bay once more. Looking up, though, there is no one there. I get up, walk a security check around the bay, find no doors unsecure, and no one is there. I get that spooky feel- ing though that I am being watched.

Shortly after this, CRS Expediter comes in, the fire doors banging (as usual) when he enters the building. These doors are the only entrance to the bay after hours. I convince him to walk a security check with me through the facility. We find no doors open, no one else in the facility.

I mention this to a friend of mine the next day, and he replies that it isn’t unusual to hear footsteps in the bay. He had the same experience, numerous times, as well as seeing the figure in the bay. I’ll continue in the next message.

From: (Bob Hearn)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: More Military Ghosts
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 1994 18:47:00 GMT

Next to the 220 bay was the J-85 bay. This bay ran the same length and width as the 220 bay, with a ceiling to floor wall dividing them. At the south end of the J-85 bay was a roll up fire door that led into a warren of offices. The hallway that fed these offices was wood paneled, about 30 feet long, and the walls were about 7 feet high, leaving the tops of the offices open to the roof of the building, approximately 7 or 8 feet over head. The J-85 bay and the 220 bay were joined by a double fire door, at the middle of their length. On security check one evening, prior to shut- ting down for the night, I stepped through the double door to make sure the 85 bay was secure.

I moved towards the hallway at the south end of the bay. All bay lighting was off, except for the emergency overheads (always on in case of power failures, or for entering the building) As I prepared to move down the hallway, I could see that “something” appeared to be on the southern wall where the hall “L”d to the east to join the break room. It appeared to be just a gray mass of dim light, floating approximately 5 feet off the ground, at the far end of the hall. Looking at it, it appeared to be slowly roiling upon itself. It was dim, and to the best of my memory, was casting no light upon the ground. The hallway and office warren had no lights on in it, no emergency lighting was active in that section.

I stepped about 2 paces into the hall to investigate when all the hair on the back of my neck stood up, I got goosebumps, and something inside of me said that going down there could be a major mistake. Rather than stay and investigate or have it approach and investigate me, I turned and made a hasty retreat (read: ran like hell) back to the full lighting of the 220 bay.

I brought up this experience later on with a coworker from the other squad- ron, and he told me of an experience he had in the breakroom that the “L” in the hallway led too. He had stepped in there a month prior to my experience, to get a soda. The double fire doors between the breakroom and the hallway were closed and latched. The lighting in the breakroom was off, the only illumination being from the soda machine and the candy machine. As he stepped into the room to go to the machines, he noticed a light in the cracks of the fire doors. Unlike mine, his was a bright light, as bright as a jetlight being held to the cracks (note, a jetlight is a worklight, made from an automobile headlight, and powered by wall current running through a transformer, this gives you an idea of how bright this light was). The light was at the crack at the middle of the doors, halfway off the floor. It moved up to the crack at the top, moved slowly right and left, then back down. It moved to the crack at the floor and again moved left and right before returning to the middle crack, halfway off the floor. Brad said that the movement took approximately a minute and a half. He reached for the door, expecting to expose a co-worker in a prank, but as he touched the door, the light dimmed, and stopped moving. Jet lights don’t dim, they go out completely, and like me, he got an immediate reaction from the hair on the back of his neck, and the goose bumps. He turned, as I did, and beat a hasty retreat back to his maintenance crew.

Several of us have had various experiences in the building, and were sit- ting around one night relating them to one another. People have seen lights floating in the dark and tried to explain them away as brake lights from a passing car, despite the fact that the only window in the bay was 1 foot by 1 foot, and 15 feet below where the lights were seen. People have seen figures walking the bays, footsteps when they were all alone. Doors slam in the maintenance bays at odd hours, equipment gets moved around, 2 ton cable hoists are seen swinging, when there is no one to be moving them.

Brad and I were teased by our supervisor regarding this. We were working in the 85 bay one evening, and she came down the hallway going “Whoooo… whooo….. hey guys, I’m talking to the ghosts!” We told her not to joke around… no telling who might be listening. We then closed our tool box, and left through the doors in the common wall.

As we were turning in our equipment, she came running up another hallway that joined two of the hangars. She was yelling at us, demanding to know how we did what we did, indignant that we tried to scare her. Seems that after we left, she went to shut off the overhead lights in the bay. As she hit the switches on the east side of the bay, she looked up at a light that hadn’t gone out, but was quite dim. She then realized that it wasn’t one of the overhead lights, but “something”, assuming it was a prank Brad and I were pulling. As she took a few steps towards this light, which was approximately 20 feet off the ground, it suddenly dropped, and began moving towards her. She then panicked (as I had done) and ran down the southern hallway, through the breakroom, down another maintenance bay, through the adjoining hallway and up to where Brad and I were inventorying our tools. She was attempting to hide her fear with indignation, but failed miserably. When she asked us to go investigate what it was, we refused. She then (jokingly) ordered us to do it. Again, we refused, explaining that if she was going to order us to do something, she’d have to be willing to do it herself, at which point she refused. When we later explained what happened to the Master Sergeant in charge of the shift, he also refused to go to the 85 bay to take a look, saying he’d rather do it in daylight. It seems (from talking one on one with him later) that he’d had several experiences in the bays as well, but vehemently refused to talk about them.

I have a few more stories to post, not all about Bld 858. I look forward to replies. I’m glad I found y’all.

A Father’s Hugs

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

Date: Tue, 21 Jul 1998 20:32:40 -0400
From: Peyote (
Subject: A Fathers Hugs

Sorry it’s so long, but it was very emotional for me.

I grew up in an extremely rural area. I never had any other children my own age to play with, so I spent all my time with my father. We became very close right from the time I was born (he was 50 when I was born). My mother was very sick when I was young and my father took care of me while she was in the hospital. Unless I was in school I could usualy be found by his side, working in the garden, or garage. I even went with him when ever he went to visit his friends.

When I was 15 he got really sick. and passed away a month (Dec. 9th) before my 16th birthday. He had spent most of the previous 5 months hospitalized, and even though no one said it, I knew he was dying. About 2 days before he died he began to slip in and out of a coma. I stayed by his side, against my mothers wishes (she thought my going to school was more important than being with my dad). I even slept curled up on the bed beside him. The day before he died she went to make the funeral arangements. and I went with her, because my dad had asked me to. While we were gone my father slipped further into the coma. I spent the night with him, and all the next day.

Around 4:30pm my mother and sister convinced me to go with them to my sisters house for supper. We left for my sisters place, about 15 minutes from the hospital. We walked in the door and I wanted to leave, because I got a real sick feeling in my stomach. My mother and sister weere in the middle of telling me that it was just nerves, when the phone rang. It was the Hospital. They said to come back, because my dad had taken a turn for the worse. We left imediately.

About 3 minutes from the hospital there is a set of train tracks. As we were crossing the tracks, I got a reall strange feeling. Like someone was hugging me. I said goodbye daddy, out loud. Moments later we reached the hospital. When we got off the elevator there was a nurse waiting for us. My father had passed away 5 minutes earlier. I truely believe that he came to me in the car to say goodbye.

When he passed away, I lost my best friend. . . or did I. It will be 10 years on the 9th of December. I often feel like he’s sitting here with me, just like when I was little. Some times I feel like I’m going crazy. Whenever I get upset, or really stressed out, I feel a presence. and I feel as if someone is giving me a hug. It’s hard to describe.

My family never talkes about my dad. With my mom it’s almost like he never existed. My sister talked of him once about 2 years after he died. She asked me how I knew when he died, when we were in the car. She says she never dreams of him. I dream he’s here sometimes. . . I wake up to the smell of french toast sometimes (he always cooked french toast for me on Sundays). Sometimes I think my roomate smells it too, because she’ll come down stairs and think I’m cooking when I’m not. Some times I wake up with my hair braided, when It wasn’t braded when I went to sleep. And one of my Ex-boyfriends said he always felt like he was being watched when he was with me. And that the person watching was trying to protect me.

Sorry this was so long but it’s a very emotional thing for me.


Abusive Ghost

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

Date: Thu, 18 Jun 1998 21:24:44 -0700 (PDT)
yourname Shawn

It started when I was around 6 years old. Y move to a house in Lyndhurst, New Jersey. A two story on a street called Page. The house was beautiful on the outside. What was held within was the scary part.

At first it was not noticeable, footsteps and a few sounds. Not much. Then things began to vanish or broken. With me and my brother at the ages of 6 and 7 we were blamed. Next were doors. While laying in my bed my door came off its hinges(it was a plastic sliding door) and began to flap violently. The door was a nightly thing. It was back on its hinges the next morning, so naturally my parents didn’t believe me. That was it for a awhile.

Next, were the ghosts or spirits. My brother woke up one evening and awoke to a ghostly figure levitating an inch above his face. The figure was of a woman in a white dress. Whe gave her name “the woman in white.” My brother and I had a journal that depicted everything that happened in the house. One day I was sitting on a couch and thrown to the ground. It felt like some kind supernatural force slammed me to the ground. I was held there for a few minutes. I tried to push myself up but again I was pushed down. This ghost had a different feeling from the “woman in white” it felt evil. My sister was born and everything cooled down… for a little. My brother watched a dark figure of a man come down upon him and pummel him. He had bruises on his stomach, back and chest. His name was “the man in black.” He tried to show my mother but they vanished everytime he tried. We both were thrown from our beds. We were hit more often as we got older. Three years after my sister was born she asked my brother and I and parents who the lady by her crib was the night before. My parents did not know but me and my brother did.

The scariest thing was the lady and man never revealed themselves to adults only chidren. We moved when I was ten. I am now 15. To this day I tell my parents, they still do not believe me.

Abu Dhabi Story

This story a part of the True Ghost Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 19:35:10 -0700 (PDT)
yourname Hannah

I should tell the story before i forget it. I just heard it last night while camping with a friend and her family. A little backround: Jenn (ifer) and her parents are of chinese descent. Sue (her mom) has a lot of good TRUE ghost that she told us last night. Well, a couple of years ago before i met Jenn, she and her family were living in Abu Dhabi because her dad was working there along with a lot of other foreigners all working for the same company. All employees lived in a high rise apartment biulding. Jenn and her family were in the eighth floor of the building. Her room had a big door sized window, but no balcony, just an iron safety bar thing surrounding the window. At the time there was a construction crew who were doing something outside and she had a view of the trailer they (crew) stayed in. So here’s the first part of the story.

It was News Years Eve in Abu Dhabi about 4 or so years ago and there was a big party at the building with all the company workers. People were drinking and having a a great time and Dom(inic), her dad was getting tired and so was the family, so at about 9:30 they went upstairs to go to sleep. At about midnight, Dom awoke to the screaming and yelling of people. Well, it was New Years Eve, so it made sense, eh?? In the morning all the people were gossiping about the previous night and Dom asked what all the commotion was about, so he asked the guard downstairs. It turned out a trailer had burned to the ground the previous night. The same trailer Jenn could see from her window. Everybody got out unharmed except one man, a Filipino guy who apparently had a little to drink to celebrate the New Year. He burned along with the trailer. That’s just the first part of the story.

Now it was the middle of July, and it was VERY hot in Abu Dhabi at that time, so most of the families left on vacation to somewhere cooler. There was maybe three families left in the building, mostly men because they had to work. Late one night Dom awoke to a pounding noise. It sounded like someone was pounding on the windows. He ignored thinking maybe it was the wind or a bird or something. He heard it again, so he got up. Wandering thru the house half asleep, tracing where the noise had come from he walked thru each of the rooms, finally coming to Jenn’s room. He walked cautiously to the window, suddenly feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his skin breaking into gooseflesh, about to draw the drapes when he realized, “THIS ROOM IS EIGHT STORIES UP!! AND THERES NO BALCONY FOR A PERSON TO CLIMB ONTO!! Instead of pulling open the drapes, he pounded on the window loudly three times, then opened the drapes. There was noone there, not a bird not anything big enough to pound the window so hard. He quickly left the room and closed the door on the way out. He and Sue believe it was the spirit of the Filipino man as he must have been in his last seconds of life, pounding on the small window of the trailer… the trailer which was in full view from the bedroom window. As for Jenn, she was as surprised to hear about it as i was. Last night was the first time she heard about it and her parents didn’t want to scare a 9 year old girl out of her mind at night. Well i may have missed some details but this is pretty much how the story goes… sorry its ssooooooo long. If you want I have a few more ghost stories and true legends from my area as well as some Taiwanese stories which were also printed in newspapers over there. If you read this far, thanx for being patient.

Hannah Groch

Ouija Board

What is a Ouija board?

A Ouija board is a game in which messages are supposedly communicated by the dead to or through the players of the game. [Note: some people consider the Ouija to be “more than just a game,” but it is marketed as a game, and for purposes of convenience it will be referred to here as a game.] The playing pieces consist of a game board (like a Monopoly board) and a pointer, called a planchette. The game board has all the letters of the alphabet written on it. The numbers 0-9 are also usually included, along with yes/no and hello/goodbye spaces.

The layout of a typical board looks something like this:

The pointer is made of plastic or glass, and either points to the letters with one end or has a clear window embedded in it through which one can view the letters.

To play, two or more people lightly touch the pointer and concentrate on a question. The pointer will (hopefully) move and point to letters and numbers which will provide answers to your questions.

Ouija boards are also known as “witch boards” and “talking boards.” The nickname “ouiji” or “weejie” is also used by many people. Ouija is a brand name belonging to Hasbro, but the term has fallen into popular use and is generally applied to any sort of game with the same layout, whether homemade or store-bought.

Is the Ouija evil or just a game?

Since it’s nearly impossible to merge the two views on this topic, I’ve tried to accurately sum them up here:

* The Ouija board is not any more evil than your Monopoly board. It’s just a toy, a piece of cardboard, and any “evil” force you feel emanating off it is purely a result of your imagination. Yes, the pointer does work, but that’s the result of tiny involuntary physical movements, and the messages you see are coming from your subconscious or psychic mind.

* The Ouija is in fact a powerful tool, and its powers cannot, and should not, be written off entirely as your subconscious. Inexperienced Ouija users are especially prone to being affected by malevolent forces which communicate through the board, often masquerading as a departed loved one. The best way to avoid this sort of thing is not to use the board at all.

Where can I buy a Ouija board? Failing that, how can I make one?

You can, in the U.S. anyway, find a Ouija board on Amazon, or in a toy store or a game store. You might also be able to find one in a large bookstore. Parker Brothers makes a nice, relatively cheap, model.

To make a board, arrange all the letters of the alphabet on a smooth surface. You might also want the words “yes”, “no”, and “goodbye”, as well as the numbers. Use something that glides easily over the surface (like a glass) to use as a pointer. Now, place your fingers (this works best with a friend, by the way) gently on the glass and concentrate. Hopefully the glass will start to move and point to various letters, which will form words and sentences. Oh yeah, it helps if you ask a question first.

Are there any ‘rules’ I should follow when using the Ouija board?

If you consider the Ouija board as just another toy, then there are no hard and fast rules to follow. Holding on to the pointer helps, though. 🙂

If you believe that you are really contacting spirits through the board, you might want to follow a few basic guidelines:

* Use a silver coin as the planchette (pointer), or wear an article made of silver. The silver is supposed to protect you from harmful spirits.
* To improve “reception”, use a solid wood board, and work in male- female pairs.
* Draw a circle around you and the board, or make a circle of candles. Concentrate on creating a safe, protected place as you do this. Some people believe that spirits must stay outside this circle. Also, a well-lit area is said to drive away evil spirits.
* Always say goodbye to the entity you are talking with when you want to end a session. If you don’t say goodbye, and the spirit doesn’t reply in kind, he may be trying to stick around, maybe to make your life miserable. Additionally, do not explicitly invite the spirit to enter someplace, since this will make it hard to get rid of him later.
* It helps to have one additional person (not touching the planchette) present to transcribe the session. Sometimes the pointer starts moving too fast for you to read and process the words it’s spelling out. The transcription might also be helpful later on so you can look back on what happened. Another way to transcribe is to have someone call out the letters to a recorder, or record yourself on video.
* Don’t take anything the spirit says literally. Ouija boards are famous for lying or otherwise giving false information.

What does “ouija” mean?

The word “ouija” is actually a combination of two words, the french word “oui” and the German word “ja.” Both words mean “yes” in english.

A Brief History of the Ouija Board

From (Thomas Grotenhuis):

The ancient Egyptians used a device LIKE a ouija board. They used a ring attached to a strand of thread, held over a circular table with symbols on it, and the ring would strike the table to spell out answers.

The Ouija board, the kind we see in toy stores today, came about in 1889 when William Fuld of Baltimore, Maryland, and his brother Isaac, marketed Ouija boards to the American public. They had a small operation and the board was the hottest item they would ever produce. People bought the board not as a game, but as a device with which they would talk to their loved ones killed in battle (note the two World Wars happening; this was where the board’s popularity really soared). During this time, the fad spread, and so did Ouija’s notorious reputation as being more than just a “game.”

Finally in about 1960 or thereabouts, Parker Brothers approached the two Fuld brothers since they were having trouble making enough boards to satisfy the demand for them. PB then took over the rights to the ouija board and the rest, as they say, is history.

Ouija came about as kind of a by-product of the whole spiritualist craze that was all the rage in the early 1900’s, and during Houdini’s time as he debunked many ‘mediums’. Table-tipping was being done back then, and a Frenchman, who’s last name was “planchette”, produced a device that looked like a small table like a ouija pointer, that stood on two small stilts and a pen or pencil at the third point. The operator would sit with his hands as lightly as he could resting on the planchette, this device named after it’s inventor, and the thing would move, producing writing.

Ouija replaced the messy planchette (the writing was messy cursive scrawls) when a board was used in place of the sheet of paper, and all three stilts on the planchette were covered with felt enabling it to slide in any direction. This made the communications fast, clear, and easy. And specifically meant to be done with a partner, “gentleman and lady preferred.”

Eugene Orlando adds:

“William Fuld died in 1927, Isaac in 1939. Since Parker Brothers didn’t take over the William Fuld company until 1966, it would have been quite a trick to take it over from the brothers. But then it is alt.folklore.ghost-stories isn’t it? Actually, Parker Brothers saw a bargain when they saw one and bought the business from William’s kids. They had moved the factory into a smaller building and sold out not because there was so much demand for the ouija, but just the opposite. Ouija sales had never been worse. It took a Parkers advertising blitz to put the popularity back in the Ouija board.”

Automatic Writing

This page contributed by Tony Harrington.

Automatic Writing, also called “Spirit Writing” is yet another means in a long list of means by which the living attempt to communicate with the dead.

Prior to the advent of the voice recorder on which we capture EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomena), technology deficient humans had to capture the voice of the dead in a more primitive manner. They could use a Ouija board to spell out messages from those who have crossed over or they could practice the mysterious art of Spirit Writing.

Spirit writing, the act inviting a spirit to use one’s own hand to scrawl out messages from the other side, is a form of divination akin to the use of Ouija boards and using dowsing rods. The theory is that the spirits of the dead can use the energy in the human body to move objects such as rods, a planchette, or a pencil in the hand of the living host.

We have to look at this concept with a jaundiced eye just as we do with the aforementioned forms of divination. Because a human host is required for these items to work, the method of collecting messages from the other side is already flawed and suspect. There is simply no way to prove that the messages received through divination are indeed those of the spirit world or simply culled from subconscious muscle movements of the person holding the pencil.

What is certain is that a lot of credence was given to this form of communication with several prominent historical figures lending credibility to the act of Spirit Writing. Among them, poet William Butler Yeats and his wife Georgie Hyde-Lees were known to often been in communication with the dead via this method while much later in 1975, a woman named Wendy Hart from Maidenhead, UK made headlines when she claimed to be in communication with a sea Captain named Nicholas Moore who died in 1642.

The method by which one can communicate with the dead using Spirit writing varies depending on which articles on the topic you read. The general means of communication are as follows:


1) Seat yourself in a comfortable environment, a comfortable chair at a table should suffice.

2) Keep a stack of paper handy in the event your spirit is talkative.

3) Grip the pencil or pen lightly in the hand. Many practitioners of Spirit Writing suggest using your non-dominant hand. (If you are right-handed normally, use your left hand to hold the pen/pencil)

4) Gently place the tip of the writing implement onto the blank sheet of paper. Do not apply pressure.

5) Announce that you are opening yourself up to the spirit world and invite clean spirits only to use your hand to communicate.

6) Close your eyes and relax and if contact is made your hand will start moving the pencil across the paper.

Messages may be hard to read or impossible at first. As you practice communication the messages will become clearer and easier to understand.


I have personally tried this method of communication to no avail, so it may not be for everyone, or it may be a load of rubbish. As with any paranormal event, science has created a countering viewpoint. The very act of Spirit Writing (and divination as a whole) could be nothing more than ideomotor effect, defined as a psychological phenomenon wherein a subject makes motions unconsciously. (Wikipedia)

Automatic Writing was often used as part of a seance conducted by early psychics/mediums in the investigations of alleged haunted locations. The act has since fallen out of favor in lieu of more technologically advanced methods of spiritual communications including instrumental trans-communication.

Abandoned House

This story a part of the True Ghost Stories Archive on Please do not copy or distribute without permission.

Date: Sun, 23 Aug 1998 14:27:09 -0700 (PDT)
yourname Erin

About three years ago a friend and I were what you would call obsessed with the Ouija board. We would search out spooky places and try to contact different spirits. We were using a Parker Brothers board and having our spooky moments. One day we bought an authentic board at an antique shop in town and we were so excited.

My friend Chelsea, a guy Dave, his sister and I all hiked up a little hill one night in the middle of the winter. We hiked to a little deserted shack that lay empty in the woods in Ogunquit. The police had kept it off limits because high school kids liked to play around and have parties there. But we ignored the keep out signs and proceeded in.

As we went in we explored the place. There was three rooms: a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room. The kitchen looked old and decrepit, with broken glasses and a rotted out door. The bedroom looked right out of a horror flick with the roof caved in like something had fallen through it, though it was probably just snow collapsing from the weight. The living room was the most normal looking area with a fireplace and a large, open hardwood floor. It looked the most comforting so that is where we sat.

All four of us sat down and placed the Ouija board so that it was touching all of us. We placed two fingers each on the planchette and closed our eyes trying to call any spirit listening. There was no answer at first but after a while the planchette began to move.

It moved very slow at first but picked up momentum as it went. We all sort of looked at each other in amazement. Soon the planchette started spelling out words. “M-R-X” and than it would stop. “T-E-X” and it repeated itself many times. So we started calling the spirit Tex or Mr. X and one at a time started asking questions.

To be very honest I don’t remember what we asked and what went on for a while. But I’ll never forget when the planchette took a break. It just randomly stopped, and of course we continued to ask what was wrong and why he stopped talking. Just silence for a while and then the planchette started moving again. This time it spelled out “F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-G-E-T-A-W-A-Y” and the planchette quickly ran off the board. At this same time a piece of the celling came down right behind Dave, who was sitting back towards the bedroom.

As if reading each others minds we said “goodbye” and jumped up, running out the door. We still had to hike down the hill in the snow and get to the car. First out the door was Dave, with me and his sister behind. Chelsea took the longest because she had to gather the board and the planchette.

As we headed down the hill, I heard Chelsea yell something, but I ignored her and proceeded hauling ass down the hill. When we got in the car we all sat, breathing heavily, scared out of our minds. I had forgotten about Chelsea’s yell until she brought it up again.

She opened her jacket and there was a red mark on the back of her neck. She said on the way down she had been hit with a snowball or a piece of ice and was asking if we did it to scare her. But we couldn’t have because we were in front of her and she was hit from the back.

We dismissed the incident and went our separate ways that night. Our interest in the Ouija board started to dwindle after that, but we still tried every once and again to contact a spirit. But we never tried again to go to the Mr. X house, though we spoke and thought of it often.