Ghost of Vicksburg Mississippi
by Suzanne S.
About eleven years ago my mom wanted to take the grandkids to Vicksburg for a good history lesson.
My daughter Elizabeth was around fourteen and my son Joey was around nine. My sister Sandy and her son Jeremy went with us. We went to all the graveyards and homes we could tour. We decided to go to what had once been downtown to see all the old stores. We found what had once been an old JC Penneys store.
It had been turned into an antique store. We all went in, but Mom got tired and went back to the van along with Elizabeth. Jeremy left to go buy some candy.
Sandy and I walked around a few minutes then realized we did not know where Joey went. So we started looking. She went upstairs and I looked on the ground floor. We could not find him anywhere.
Finally, I went to the top of the stairs that led to the basement. For some reason I did not want to go down there. We called him to no avail. Finally I started down the stairs. I only got about halfway when I was overcome with something that remains with me still.
First I was overcome with pain then with fear. I became so hungry I could have eaten bark on a tree. The feeling of being sick was so strong. Even though it was in the summer I began to shiver. The smell of something very old or had been dead for a long time was almost overpowering.
Then I started to feel myself being pulled at. There seemed to be people all around me pulling at me. They seemed to be trying to pull at my life force. My sister was not far behind me. I finally broke free and ran back up the stairs. When I looked back down my sister was standing on the same step I had been on. A few seconds later she broke free and made a mad run back up the stairs. We looked at each other a moment.
Finally my sister looked at me and asked about Joey.
I told her whatever was down there could have him. A second later Joey was looking at us from the bottom of the stairs. Later at the hotel I asked Joey what he was doing down there, and he told me a man dressed funny had showed him where some old fishing tackle was.
I never saw any man.
Today he has no memory of it but as for Sandy and me, we cannot forget it.
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Appalachian Ghost Stories
by Tara K
I grew up in the beautiful Appalachian mountains bordering Virginia and West Virginia. While growing up I had several very interesting experiences that I would like to relate.
The first occurred when I was very young, around 5, I believe. My parents ran a bed and breakfast they called The Colonial Inn in a very small town. I was awakened one night to go to the bathroom but before I could leave the room I heard someone coming up the stairs. Thinking it was my parents I called out to them. I got no response so I turned my head to see through the slightly open bedroom door where I saw a dark hooded figure standing, staring at me. Quite naturally I was terrified and completely speechless. The figure then turned and continued towards the staircase to the third floor.
My story does not end there however. The following morning my father started scolding my brother and I. Apparently he had made certain he had closed the window at the end of the hallway on the third floor before going to bed the night before, and that morning it was wide open. He was certain my brother or I had done it. When I told my mother about it she was strangely quiet.
Many years later, after several moves and several different towns, all of them still in the mountains, my mother rented a small old farmhouse out in the country. She had originally intended for me or my brother to take the large finished attic, but none of us were comfortable in the cold, drafty attic so we both took the room at the foot of the attic steps.
Every night we shut the door to the attic and drew the latch to keep it closed. Almost every morning the door would be wide open again. Late at night I would hear shuffling footsteps, going up and down the attic steps. As you can imagine I didn't sleep well there.
Standing from my bedroom window and looking out across the cow pasture in front of our home I would see a strangely overgrown patch on a hill in the distance. Sometimes later in the day I would see strange lights, like giant blue and red fire flies flickering around in the overgrown area.
I pointed it out to my mother and she agreed it was odd to see an overgrown patch like that in a cleared out cow pasture so we walked over there one day.
You can imagine our surprise as we fought our way through the thorns and brush to discover an extremely old graveyard. Some of the graves dated back to the civil war, many so old they were sunken into the ground.
We found it abominable that someone had lost track of a graveyard like this so we told the owner of the property who admitted he had recently purchased the property and had no idea it was even there.
It was in an effort to respect the owners that I withheld the names and locations of these buildings and this graveyard. As far as histories are concerned I have very little unfortunately. There was some information on the inn my parents owned, old pictures mainly that showed the inn standing when the town itself had been hit by a horrible flood that killed many people.
As far as the farmhouse however I have located very, very little. I heard rumors from a neighbour that an elderly woman was murdered in my attic, but I could find no basis to prove those rumors. Also all the efforts I have made to trace the old graveyard have also been in vain. More than likely the graves were moved.
But someday I would like to return to these two houses in which I spent a part of my youth. Perhaps I can get some pictures so I will have more than just memories.
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I live in a huge mansion whose previous owner had slaves.
The slaves would work day and night for the family. There was one slave who was very brave and she had tried to escape many times. I read some books that I had found in the basement and discovered there were five people in the family. Thomas was the father and he treated the slaves the worst.
One day when the slaves had the day off, the woman had tried to escape but Thomas got a hold of her and took her inside. The book didnít tell me what he did but it said afterward he hung her.
To this day, I hear noises. Theyíre like little screams coming from behind me and when I look around, itís behind me again. I swear I see her when I close my eyes. Itís like my eyes are still open.
I know she wants me to go because I am white, like the family.
One night I awoke to go to the bathroom and when I tried to open the door it was locked. I never remembered locking the door.
So I tried the bathroom downstairs. The door shut behind me and the shower turned on suddenly. I turned around and ran to the phone. There was no service. I ran to my bedroom in tears and I could hear the her scream and things falling downstairs in the kitchen. I eventually fell asleep.
In the morning I went to the kitchen and everything was fine. I had a cup of coffee and I looked out the window. My cars lights were blinking and I could swear I saw a woman sitting in the front seat of the car. Seconds later, the lights stopped blinking and the woman was gone.
I was just so freaked out, and I couldn't take it anymore, I picked up the phone and a women was speaking. She said:
My name is Chausiku (I looked up on the net that it means born at night). You cannot leave anymore, for you know too much...
Then the phone was just beeping. I screamed and ran to the door. It was locked. I tried the back door and that was locked too. Every door I passed slammed shut. And all the windows closed. I grabbed a broomstick and ran toward the shut window and broke it. A gush of wind hit me in the face as if it were trying to keep me from jumping out the window. I managed to escape and get into my car. I found the keys in the ignition so I just turned them and the car would not stop. After fifteen minutes I gave up getting it started and ran towards the gate I was opening. When I looked back, I saw the woman staring at me from the window I broke.
I ran to my auntís house because it was the nearest to me and she asked me what the problem was. I told her I could not live in that house and I never spoke of it again.
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Slave Ghost Stories
(Reisterstown, Maryland, USA)
My grandmother's house is part of an underground railroad. In her basement you can still see the little door through which the people entered. I slept in the basement one time and I heard what sounded like a lot of footsteps coming from the wall. When I went to see what it was, it stopped. Then, I heard whispers.
I asked my grandma about it and she said it had been happening for years.
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