When I was very young, i.e. in kindergarten or first grade, our entire class was obsessed with the supernatural.
Ghosts, spirits, mysterious orbs... we all claimed to see them. Our school was in the small town of Lone Rock, Wisconsin, and we always believed that the small pine-tree woods was haunted somehow. That's how I became to research the legendary "Ridgeway Ghost," who was supposed to haunt the old stagecoach trails around the area, mainly the Ridgeway Trail, which stretched through Ridgeway and Dodgeville, perhaps more.
He was a trickster, the internet sites and books claimed. He could change shapes and things like that. I was fascinated because across the field by our house was part of an old stagecoach trail. When we moved there, we discovered it and we walked on it regularly.
The first time I imagined that it could possibly be a remnant of the Ridgeway Trail, I insisted that we go on a walk. When we got back and we were in the yard, I REALLY wanted to see the Ridgeway Ghost. So I shouted, "Ridgeway Ghost! If you can hear me, please... make something happen to show me that you are real. Knock three times, or make the wind blow, or something... Just show me!"
A half-hour later, we were all relaxing inside; watching TV, reading, and such. That's when I heard it.
"Did someone knock?" I asked. They all said they hadn't heard anything.
But I knew what I had heard.
On the door.
Just like I'd hoped.
I ran to the front door and opened it wide. I walked around the house and on the deck, but nobody was there.