The Visitor

Thanks to my Aunt Raven for this story!

Vito lived with his wife, Madeline, and baby son, Victor, in a courtyard apartment on Barnes Avenue in the Bronx.  Their next door neighbor, George, was a nice, elderly gentleman.  Vito and Madeline weren’t particularly close with George and didn’t know much about him.  All they really knew was that he lived alone and had been a widower for many years.

Vito didn’t have much interest in the paranormal, so he didn’t believe in ghosts.  Then he had a strange experience that he couldn’t explain.  One night in 1964, Vito was awoken by a cold breeze blowing through his bedroom.  Perhaps his wife had forgotten to shut the windows before coming to bed.  He decided to get up to check the house.  That’s when he saw the woman standing on the other side of the room by his son’s crib.  She was wearing a long, white, old-fashioned dress and had her hair tied up in a bun.  The old woman looked as if she belonged to another era and had just stepped out of a black and white photograph.

“What are you doing?  Get away from him!” shouted Vito.

The woman turned to look at Vito.  She lifted her hand and Vito sank back down on the edge of the bed.  She spoke to him in a calm manner.  “No, it’s okay.  I just stopped for a moment, but I’m in the wrong place.”  After saying this, she turned around and disappeared through the wall.

Vito rubbed his face.  He looked over at Madeline, who had slept through the whole event.  He got up to check his son.  Victor was fine.  Like his mother, he had been undisturbed by the stranger’s appearance.  Thinking that he must have been dreaming, Vito went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face.  Then he went back to bed.

The next day, they found out that their neighbor, George, had passed away during the night.  Raven is a few years younger than her brother, so this happened before she was born.  She wonders if the ghostly woman who appeared to her father that night was George’s wife coming to get him.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

 

 

Advertisements

The Haunting of The Royalton Hotel

Lady Rhea was contacted in 1991 to do a séance for the Royalton Hotel in New York City. They had had complaints about an aggressive spirit haunting the hotel and the staff were curious if she could make contact with the spirit. Rhea agreed to look into the matter and enlisted her two close friends, Tony and Raven, to help her.

On the assigned date, Rhea, Raven, and Tony arrived at the Royalton Hotel to conduct the séance. They were led to a small hotel room on the second floor. Rhea and Raven worked the Ouija Board, while Tony recorded the responses. Nine staff members joined them for the séance making a total of twelve people in the room.

At first, they had sporadic contact with several energies. The spirit of a little boy came through the board asking if anyone had seen his mother. After the young boy left, heavy footsteps could be heard walking outside the door in the hallway. Then they felt the presence of a male spirit enter the room. Rhea got the impression that he was a finely dressed, tall man with dark hair. He had a gruff voice and a tough guy attitude.

“What is your name?” asked Rhea.

“William Rose,” he spelt out on the board.

One of the hotel staff jumped up, “As in Billy Rose?”

The pointer circled the word “YES” rapidly. “Ooh, he’s cranky,” said Raven. “Do you know him?” asked Rhea. The staff member swallowed. “We know of him. He used to live here back in the days when the place was a residential hotel.”

Rhea turned back to the board. “Are you the ghost haunting this floor?” The spirit moved the pointer to “YES” again. Now that the spirit had fully established his presence, he started calling out staff members in the room and asking them questions.

“Where’s Red?” he asked. Red was the nickname for a manager who was supposed to be on call that night, but had called out of work. “Why do you want to know?” asked Rhea. William responded back smartly, “I wanted to talk to him.” The room fell silent.

Next, William indicated a female worker that was in the room and said, “I’ve seen you taking a nap in room 307.” The woman’s eyes went wide. “Well, I’ll never lay down in there again,” she said.

“Okay. I have some questions for you now. Would you be willing to answer them for me?” asked Rhea. William said that he would. “Why do you push people in the hall?” asked Rhea. William smirked, “Cause they’re stepping on my newspaper. Next question.”

“Why aren’t you moving on to the light? Are you stuck? Do you need help?”

William answered solemnly, “I’m waiting for Edie.”

It was around one in the morning by this point, so Rhea wrapped up the séance. On the way home, Rhea, Raven, and Tony were questioning what had happened that night. Raven was driving, Rhea was up front in the passenger seat, and Tony was in the back. They were driving by the side of a cliff on Wendover Road when all three were overwhelmed by the scent of roses and the car went into a 360-degree spin.

“Stop it, Raven!” screamed Rhea, thinking Raven had spun the wheel too hard on the turn.

“It’s not me,” shouted Raven.

Just as quickly as it started, the car stopped. The scent of roses disappeared. There were no roses growing along the highway. It was a clear night. The roads were clean, there wasn’t any ice or rain, and they hadn’t driven over an oil spill. Rhea felt that William Rose had spun the car and made it smell like roses to show them that he was real. A few months later, Rhea mentioned the incident to one of her clients. The customer said that she knew the Edie who William Rose was referring to. Edie was elderly and had recently moved into a nursing home. William was waiting for her to pass on, so that they could move on into the light together.

Picture for Royalton Hotel Article - Public Domain Archive
Public Domain Archive

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

 

 

Glimpse of a Reaper

One of the things that bothers me about being psychic is the inability to control it or the type of information that I receive. I am not a psychic consultant or spiritual practitioner like my mother who makes her living from her abilities, so in many cases, the information just gets dumped into my head without much warning. Perhaps this is something every person with psychic abilities deals with.

I have had premonitions of death before. I knew that there was something wrong with my Grandfather months before he started showing any signs of illness. Loved ones have visited me in dreams to tell me that they are getting ready to pass. Again, I have no control over this. Sometimes I get messages and sometimes I don’t. It’s as simple as that.

Years ago, I was doing the dishes while my husband was taking care of our sick canary, Tweety. As I was running the water over my hands, I got an image of Tweety dying. I started to shake it off, only to hear my husband scream out the bird’s name from the other room. I dropped the dish I was washing, turned the water off, and ran into our living room. Tweety had passed away in my husband’s hands.

Over the past six months, I had started to worry about our pet parakeet, Skye. He was already seven years old, but seemed healthy enough. I put it down to my own anxiety and dismissed the worries as much as possible, but the ominous feeling kept nagging at me from time to time. Then a few weeks ago, Skye started losing his feathers on his lower quarters and seemed to have a protrusion of some kind, so my husband and I took him to the vet.

After the examination, the vet told us that there were two possibilities. Either, Skye was overweight and that was causing his feathers to fall out or he had a tumor. The vet explained that if it was a tumor, Skye would probably die from complications or shock from the surgery. If it wasn’t that, he was just too fat and losing weight would help. He advised us to change Skye’s diet and keep him as comfortable as possible.

We took Skye home and followed the vet’s instructions. While Skye’s feathers started to grow back, he also began having issues with his balance. He didn’t move around the cage as much and he stopped talking. Losing balance and being on the bottom of the cage were two of the things that the vet had warned us could be signs of a tumor, which again was inoperable.

Our apartment has large bay windows that look out over the small courtyard and pathway that runs through our housing complex. Last week, my husband and I were talking to my mother on speaker phone, when I spied a dark, hooded figure standing in the garden. The figure looked to be at least six or seven feet tall and was wearing a black cloak. It was around 6pm, but there was plenty of light coming from the lamp posts and the neighboring school’s soccer field. As I turned to get a better look, the apparition walked through the wrought iron stair railing by our house and vanished. The figure had appeared completely solid one minute and then dematerialized. I do not recall seeing a face of any sort, just blackness beneath the dark hood.

I told my husband that someone had been in the garden. He checked, but didn’t see anyone. I couldn’t get a reading on the spirit to figure out if it was benign, malevolent, female, or male. Freaked out, I closed the blinds and did a cleansing of the house. I had seen shadowy figures before, but never anything like that. I called my mom and told her about the apparition. I said that it reminded of an entity, rather than a ghost. The figure had immediately made me think of Death.

I felt a little better after the cleansing and decided to go to bed earlier than usual. For some reason, I didn’t want to be up alone by myself. This is odd for me since I am naturally a night person. Skye chirped at me when I came into the bedroom. He had taken to telling me off for disturbing him in the middle of the night as he got older. I fixed his cage cover and told him to go back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and found Skye lying dead at the bottom of his cage. He had passed sometime in the night. Up until this moment, I didn’t believe in the Grim Reaper. Now, I’m not so sure.

Have you ever experienced a premonition of death? Share your experiences and thoughts in the comments.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

Haunted Roads in South Wales

Thanks to Gafyn from Swansea, Wales for this story!  You can also read Gafyn’s first story, Adventures with Ghosts

Gafyn grew up in Cilfynydd, Pontypridd in South Wales.  The area is known for high levels of spirit activity.  This is thought to be partially due to The Albion Disaster, a devastating mine explosion that killed “290 men and boys” in June, 1894.  For more information on The Albion Disaster, please see, “Albion Colliery: The Forgotten Mining Disaster” by Rhiannon Beacham of BBC News.

One day when Gafyn was in his late teens, an older friend of his invited him out for a drive.  The friend would not reveal anything about where they were going, but Gafyn sensed that it had something to do with the paranormal.  Sometimes his friends liked to see if Gafyn could pick up on ghosts that were in the area.  It was all in fun, so Gafyn decided to go along with it.

They had been out for a while when a car appeared behind them.  It seemed to come from out of nowhere.  Gafyn thought that it looked like a Ford Capri.  The car was close on their tail.  Trying to shake it off, his friend started swerving, but the car kept up with them the whole time.  That was when they noticed two other things.  The car behind them was not making any noise as it sped along the road and the car had no one inside of it.

Then just as suddenly as the car had first shown up, it disappeared again.  The road that they were driving on was a single road with tall hedges on either side.  There were no gaps for a car to turn off the road.  Gafyn and his friend went back to see if they could find the car, but came back empty-handed.  They scanned the area for skid marks or tire tracks and found none.  They drove back to where the mysterious car had originally appeared and still couldn’t locate it.

Figuring it would be easier to search the area when it was light out, Gafyn returned the next day.  After another fruitless endeavor, he stopped by The Queen’s Head, a well-known local pub.  Gafyn told his story to the bartender and discovered that many people had come in over the years to report a car crash where the vehicle vanishes and is never found.

Other strange things are known to happen in Gafyn’s neighborhood after dark.  Sometimes a little girl appears walking along the road looking lost.  People will stop in their cars to give her a lift.  Then as they are driving her back home, she suddenly disappears from the back seat of the car.  Gafyn once ran into a couple who had just experienced this and were frantically searching the road for the missing child.  Gafyn explained the legend to them and they felt better about it, albeit a bit spooked.

To read more about Gafyn’s adventures, check out Gaf’s Other Interests on Facebook.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.