Introducing Myself - First Experiences
Hello All!
My on-line name aka nickname is Fox and I recently saw this group on LJ Spotlight. I'm a 43 year old struggling writer (and artist in my free time) whose work has been greatly influenced by my paranormal experiences. I've been surrounded by the paranormal since I was a child and have a deep fascination with learning as much as I can. I grew up in a poor household in the foothills of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri and have lived in St. Louis for the past 25 years.
It was a given in my house growing up that spirits did exist and I'm the third generation of women on my maternal side who possesses what I prefer to call sensitivity to the spirit world. Whether you believe certain people can communicate with the other side is up to you, but I've no doubt. My mother hated the idea she could see and hear things others couldn't and treated it as a curse. In other words it scared the crap out of her.
My earliest experiences were in my childhood home. The story I heard as a child was the front portion of the house had been a roadhouse in the 40's and 50's until it was shut down after a bar fight that ended in the death of a young man. When it was shut down it was sold and the new owner moved it to its present location then built onto it creating a house. We always heard footsteps in the house and they never strayed from that front portion, often pacing back and forth for hours. None of us kids were scared of it (I'm the oldest of 3 and the only girl) and for a long time I assumed having a ghost was a normal thing.
Apparently, my parents knew who the ghost was (at least in passing) but never really talked about it. From the moment they moved into the house (Dec. 1968 two months before my first birthday) things happened. Footsteps, things moving from one place to another, and at least one person saw the spirit in question. As the story was told to me Aunt H. was visiting my mother (her sister) one day a few months after they moved in while my father was at work. Now none of the rooms had doors on them, but curtains were hung across the bedroom doors to afford privacy. They were setting on my parents bed Aunt H. facing the door, my mom folding laundry. Suddenly my aunt said "I see Len is home." Len was my dad. My mom laughed and said "Len doesn't get home for another couple of hours."
My aunt's response was to stand up, go to the door, and yank the curtain back and yell my father's name. Despite my mother's reassurances that my dad wasn't there her sister insisted on looking everywhere saying she'd seen a shadow of a man walk by the door. Unfortunately for my aunt, Dad was not home. She left in a hurry and refused to step one foot inside our house again--ever. Whatever she'd seen scared her that bad.
Another incident, which my father confirmed, happened when I was 2 1/2 and my brother was 1. My mother had just finished chores and laid us both down for a nap. Feeling tired herself she decided to catch a nap as well. Making sure the screen doors were latched (these were the old hook and eye catches) she laid down. Around 2 hours later she woke from a sound sleep unsure what had woke her. There was a box fan in the bedroom window being as it was July. My mother sat up yawned and nearly choked when a man's voice came directly out of the fan saying quite clear "They're going to get her." Terrified my mother ran from the room into the neighboring bedroom where she'd laid us down for our nap. I was missing and in terror she searched the house discovering the back screen door was unlocked, a kitchen chair pulled up to it.
She later said she ran outside to discover I had crawled through an opening in the front yard fence, toddled up to the side of the road, and was crouched down busily trying to dig up a small cedar tree with a plastic shovel. I was a foot from the edge of the highway. Seconds after she snatched me and fled back into the yard a semi rushed by on the sharp curve.
In my opinion the spirit woke my mother so she could save me.
Many years later when I was 15 said spirit chose to speak to me on a cool Saturday autumn afternoon. It was the first time I actually was frightened. There was an old wing back chair in our living-room that was my favorite spot to read in. The older of my two brothers was always trying to scare me as brothers are apt to do. He would creep up behind the chair and then leap out at the appropriate time usually starting a fight. This day though I just knew I'd finally caught him.
As I sat there reading, I heard soft footsteps come from the direction of the kitchen and straight toward the chair. The steps halted directly behind me and I grinned. A few seconds passed and then I heard a soft voice call my name. Determined to scare him this time, I bid my time pretending to read. The voice came again and I jumped up yelling Boo! only to find the room empty. I dropped my book and tore out the front door and around the corner of the house. There in the back yard were my mom and both brothers raking and burning leaves. I demanded to know if my brother had been in the house and my mother insisted he hadn't. Suffice to say I did not go back inside until the rest of them did. After this I refused to stay in the house alone for at least six months never explaining to my mother why.
I left that house when I was 18 and moved to St. Louis. The few times I did return to visit though I always felt as if someone was watching me. It wasn't as scary as it had been before, but as I had gotten older I realized that like my mother I had the ability to sense the energies of lingering spirits. The last time I entered the house was after my mother passed 6 years ago and there was nothing there. Perhaps, he'd stayed all those years to watch over my family. Whatever the case was I hope he found his way from this world and into the next.
My on-line name aka nickname is Fox and I recently saw this group on LJ Spotlight. I'm a 43 year old struggling writer (and artist in my free time) whose work has been greatly influenced by my paranormal experiences. I've been surrounded by the paranormal since I was a child and have a deep fascination with learning as much as I can. I grew up in a poor household in the foothills of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri and have lived in St. Louis for the past 25 years.
It was a given in my house growing up that spirits did exist and I'm the third generation of women on my maternal side who possesses what I prefer to call sensitivity to the spirit world. Whether you believe certain people can communicate with the other side is up to you, but I've no doubt. My mother hated the idea she could see and hear things others couldn't and treated it as a curse. In other words it scared the crap out of her.
My earliest experiences were in my childhood home. The story I heard as a child was the front portion of the house had been a roadhouse in the 40's and 50's until it was shut down after a bar fight that ended in the death of a young man. When it was shut down it was sold and the new owner moved it to its present location then built onto it creating a house. We always heard footsteps in the house and they never strayed from that front portion, often pacing back and forth for hours. None of us kids were scared of it (I'm the oldest of 3 and the only girl) and for a long time I assumed having a ghost was a normal thing.
Apparently, my parents knew who the ghost was (at least in passing) but never really talked about it. From the moment they moved into the house (Dec. 1968 two months before my first birthday) things happened. Footsteps, things moving from one place to another, and at least one person saw the spirit in question. As the story was told to me Aunt H. was visiting my mother (her sister) one day a few months after they moved in while my father was at work. Now none of the rooms had doors on them, but curtains were hung across the bedroom doors to afford privacy. They were setting on my parents bed Aunt H. facing the door, my mom folding laundry. Suddenly my aunt said "I see Len is home." Len was my dad. My mom laughed and said "Len doesn't get home for another couple of hours."
My aunt's response was to stand up, go to the door, and yank the curtain back and yell my father's name. Despite my mother's reassurances that my dad wasn't there her sister insisted on looking everywhere saying she'd seen a shadow of a man walk by the door. Unfortunately for my aunt, Dad was not home. She left in a hurry and refused to step one foot inside our house again--ever. Whatever she'd seen scared her that bad.
Another incident, which my father confirmed, happened when I was 2 1/2 and my brother was 1. My mother had just finished chores and laid us both down for a nap. Feeling tired herself she decided to catch a nap as well. Making sure the screen doors were latched (these were the old hook and eye catches) she laid down. Around 2 hours later she woke from a sound sleep unsure what had woke her. There was a box fan in the bedroom window being as it was July. My mother sat up yawned and nearly choked when a man's voice came directly out of the fan saying quite clear "They're going to get her." Terrified my mother ran from the room into the neighboring bedroom where she'd laid us down for our nap. I was missing and in terror she searched the house discovering the back screen door was unlocked, a kitchen chair pulled up to it.
She later said she ran outside to discover I had crawled through an opening in the front yard fence, toddled up to the side of the road, and was crouched down busily trying to dig up a small cedar tree with a plastic shovel. I was a foot from the edge of the highway. Seconds after she snatched me and fled back into the yard a semi rushed by on the sharp curve.
In my opinion the spirit woke my mother so she could save me.
Many years later when I was 15 said spirit chose to speak to me on a cool Saturday autumn afternoon. It was the first time I actually was frightened. There was an old wing back chair in our living-room that was my favorite spot to read in. The older of my two brothers was always trying to scare me as brothers are apt to do. He would creep up behind the chair and then leap out at the appropriate time usually starting a fight. This day though I just knew I'd finally caught him.
As I sat there reading, I heard soft footsteps come from the direction of the kitchen and straight toward the chair. The steps halted directly behind me and I grinned. A few seconds passed and then I heard a soft voice call my name. Determined to scare him this time, I bid my time pretending to read. The voice came again and I jumped up yelling Boo! only to find the room empty. I dropped my book and tore out the front door and around the corner of the house. There in the back yard were my mom and both brothers raking and burning leaves. I demanded to know if my brother had been in the house and my mother insisted he hadn't. Suffice to say I did not go back inside until the rest of them did. After this I refused to stay in the house alone for at least six months never explaining to my mother why.
I left that house when I was 18 and moved to St. Louis. The few times I did return to visit though I always felt as if someone was watching me. It wasn't as scary as it had been before, but as I had gotten older I realized that like my mother I had the ability to sense the energies of lingering spirits. The last time I entered the house was after my mother passed 6 years ago and there was nothing there. Perhaps, he'd stayed all those years to watch over my family. Whatever the case was I hope he found his way from this world and into the next.