Thanks to Gafyn from Swansea, Wales for this story!
Gafyn has seen spirits ever since he was a little boy. Walking down the street with his mother, he would do his best to maneuver around the ghosts passing by them. Sometimes they even walked right through him. When people asked if her son was okay, Gafyn’s mother would reply, “Yes, he just sees a lot more than you or I can.”
At one point, his mother decided to bring Gafyn to see his great-aunt, Phillis Mules, who was also a Medium. She was well-known between the 1960s to 1980s and even helped with police investigations. Aunt Phillis led Gafyn and his mother into a room and asked them to sit down. Next, she called a friend in to talk to Gafyn. Gafyn started talking to the person as if everything was completely normal.
When he looked at his mother, he noticed that she was tearing up. His mother could not see the other person in the room like Gafyn and his aunt could. At his aunt’s request, the spirit had entered the room and struck up a conversation with Gafyn to test if he had the gift of seeing and hearing spirits. The ghost disappeared after a brief talk with Gafyn. Aunt Phillis had been standing with her back to the door the whole time. She nodded, smiling at Gafyn’s mother, “Oh, yes. He has it.”
One time when he was in school, Gafyn saw a little boy standing by his classroom door. The teacher gave no sign that she had seen him. Thinking the little boy wanted to join the group, Gafyn started looking around the room to find him a seat.
“What are you doing, Gafyn?” asked his teacher.
“Trying to find a chair for that little boy.”
“What little boy?” she asked.
“The one standing over there by the door,” said Gafyn.
Of course, when he turned around to show the teacher, the boy had vanished once more. The classroom door had been closed the whole time. Gafyn wondered how the boy had been able to go through the door without opening it. Years later, he realized that the little boy had been a spirit visiting the classroom.
As he grew, Gafyn became more accustomed to telling spirits apart from the living. Seeing spirits almost everywhere he looked, he had to figure out how to manage his abilities. Sometimes the ghosts scared him because they were “unusual, transparent, or ghastly.” Aunt Phillis acted as a mentor, helping Gafyn master the basics of working with spirits. She advised him never to welcome any spirits to follow him home. Over time, he learned to look past their appearance and began to view spirits as people. 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 a message via Twitter or Facebook to set up an interview!
Thanks to Jodee DeSimone from Grand Junction, Colorado for this story! Jodee also shared some of the pictures that she had of her house and the surrounding neighborhood.
Old Dance Hall – Grand Junction, Colorado
There are many theories about what causes a haunting. Some think a person’s immense unhappiness, unfinished business, or a refusal to detach from material objects can cause a soul to become earthbound. Sometimes the circumstances surrounding the death, especially if it is sudden or particularly violent, may influence a spirit to stay behind. In other cases, a spirit may not even be aware of the passage of time or that they have died. Perhaps they may fear punishment for things that they have done or worry that they will be alone when they cross over.
Paranormal investigators, ghost hunters, Mediums, psychics, and other ghost fanatics are still trying to figure out what exactly causes a haunting and how to help spirits find peace. Another answer they are seeking is why some places seem to attract more hauntings than others? One possible reason is that certain areas may be portals for spirits to pass through during their travels.
Jodee DeSimone is a psychic Medium who lived in such a place for three years. Built during the 1800s, the house was teeming with spirit activity. It had three stories, but only two of them were accessible, as the entrance to the attic had been closed off by a previous owner. All the bedrooms were located on one side of the house. The house also had a creepy, unfinished basement where the family found a cat’s skeleton.
Possible Image of Little Girl Ghost, Anna
Two specific ghosts made their presence known to Jodee and her family. One ghost was a little girl named Anna. She liked to follow Jodee’s young granddaughter around. The second ghost was a male who appeared as a tall, dark spirit wearing a top hat. The little girl ghost, Anna, was afraid of him. The tall man seemed to have some sort of control over the other spirits in the house as he would stop them from talking to Jodee whenever she tried to question them about why they were still there.
Things only became worse when the house next door to Jodee’s family was condemned and eventually knocked down. The ghosts that were haunting that house moved into Jodee’s home. Doors and cupboards would open and slam shut every night. Lights would turn themselves on and off randomly. The scents of coffee brewing, cigarette smoke, tobacco, and cooking would permeate the house at night, along with the echoes of ghostly conversations. Sensing the spirits, the family dog would growl and bark throughout the night.
Close Up of Apparition by Christmas Tree
During their time in the house, the family was sick or got injured often. Jodee even once felt someone push her off a chair while she was trying to hang a screen. The house never stays rented for long. Jodee has tried doing research on the house’s history, but is unable to find anything about its background. For now, the reason for the hauntings remains a mystery.
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If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
This story was told to me by one of the campus security guards when I was a student at the College of Mount Saint Vincent. For my previous ghost stories about Marillac Hall, please see “A Strange Welcome” and “I thought I was Alone.”
This story is about the hill that runs beside Marillac Hall. The steepest hill on campus, it rises steadily at almost a ninety-degree angle. You can easily take a tumble on it if you are not careful. It’s near impossible to traverse in snow and icy weather and during a big storm, the rushing rainwater turns into a waterfall.
There is a legend about a ghost nun who walks around campus. Supposedly, she walks along the grounds by the administration building late at night and toward the early hours of the morning. Her journey ends when she gets to the top of Marillac Hill and mysteriously disappears. No one knows who she is or why she does this. Some think that perhaps this is her spirit guarding the school. Another theory is that this is a residual haunting and her apparition is a recording of something that she did frequently in life.
Being a homebody, unless there was a play or another campus event that I was interested in attending, I was usually in my dorm after the dinner hour. Even when I lived in Marillac Hall, I didn’t go out much after dark. One time in my senior year, I went to a visit a friend who was then living in Marillac. I was dorming in Spellman Hall that year because it stayed open year-round and I wanted a room that I could stay in during the breaks. We hung out until after midnight. My husband, then fiancé, was an RA on duty, so he couldn’t come and pick me up. Even though it was a safe campus, it could still be risky to walk around in deserted areas after dark. One of the services our college offered was a security escort between buildings and back and forth to the front gate. I had never used it before, but when the front desk encouraged it that night, I decided that I’d better be safe than sorry.
Spellman is up the hill from Marillac. The guard came and picked me up to drive me back to my dorm. I don’t remember it being particularly foggy that night. As we were driving up Marillac Hill, the ghost story of the nun came to mind. Now, I was trying not to look out the car windows for fear of seeing something. As we approached the top of the hill, I saw a patch of mist right in front of the car. I couldn’t say it was a fully developed apparition because it wasn’t well-formed, but a cold shiver passed over me as we drove through it.
Within a few minutes, we were back at Spellman. I thanked the guard for the ride and went inside. Wondering if I had really seen anything, I asked the guard at the front desk if he believed the legend of the ghost nun of Marillac Hill. He said that he wasn’t sure, but that a buddy of his, who also worked security for the Mount, had had a strange experience once.
The guards always did periodic rounds of the campus to make sure that everything was safe. One night, one of the guards was driving by when he saw a nun walking along Marillac Road. Being polite, he rolled down the window and called out, “Good evening, Sister! Need a lift?” Thinking she must not have heard him, he tried again. When she still didn’t respond, he decided to follow her just to make sure that she was okay. He watched as she turned toward Marillac Hall.
“Okay, she must be one of the nuns who lives there,” he said to himself. Having driven this far behind her, he still had to drive the car into the dorm’s parking lot to turn around. As he was about to do a U-turn, he noticed that the nun had walked past Marillac’s front door and toward the porch. For many years, the porch doors had been kept locked to make sure that there was only one entrance and exit for the building. Thinking that she must be confused, the guard got out of the car to help her.
“Wait! Sister, you can’t get in that way.”
When she finally turned around, the guard saw that the woman had no face. The apparition dematerialized right in front of him, leaving him standing alone on the deserted porch.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Most of the houses in Regina’s neighborhood in North Philadelphia were built during the early 19th century. It was rumored that some had been constructed over an old cemetery, so there was no surprise that the town had a reputation for hauntings. Regina was about eight when she started noticing strange things happening in her house.
The previous owner of Regina’s home was an alcoholic who died while living in the house. Sometimes, Regina would see a male apparition. One day, Regina came home and saw a man sleeping on the couch. At first glance, she thought the man was her father. Then she watched as the figure got up, walked through the closed door, and down the block before fading away.
The dining room was also known for strange activity. Sometimes in the middle of the night, disembodied voices could be heard among the tinkling of the chandelier as it swayed back and forth. The floor had a mysterious stain that couldn’t be removed. Regina’s parents constantly tried to cover the dark mark, but it always managed to come through whatever carpet that they laid over it.
The eeriness permeated the rest of the house’s atmosphere, but only Regina and her sisters seemed to notice. As a young child, Regina was afraid of going upstairs by herself, especially at night. There were two chips in the paint that looked like gaping eye sockets. Even with her back turned, she felt like they were watching her.
Her parents’ closet door would open on its own. Outside their bedroom was a perpetual cold spot about five feet in diameter. It didn’t matter what time of the year it was, the iciness was always there and light always left the hallway in shadow.
One Easter, there was a terrible fire next door that caused extensive smoke damage. Regina’s family decided to move a few months later. A suffocating, almost violent feeling hung in the air as they packed up their belongings. Regina’s father went to drop some things off at the new house. On his return trip, Regina decided to go with him. Her mother, Rachel, and brother, Janiero, stayed behind.
After Regina left, the temperature in the house continued to drop until it was so cold that her mother and brother’s teeth were chattering. Janiero had to use the bathroom. They heard a creaking noise coming from upstairs. Looking up, mother and son watched as Regina’s bedroom door slowly closed on its own.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
This past summer, my husband and I won two tickets for a public ghost tour of Pennhurst State School and Hospital from the Pennhurst Paranormal Association. Timothy Smith runs Pennhurst Paranormal Association and maintains Pennhurst, conducting ghost tours and teaching visitors about the asylum’s tragic history. Tim and the staff of Pennhurst Paranormal Association are experienced, professional paranormal investigators. Everyone was kind and patient in answering both my questions and those of other tour members. The tour was focused on finding evidence of hauntings through the use of ghost hunting equipment, which they also showed us how to use. Pennhurst Paranormal Association hosts both public and private ghost tours of Pennhurst State School and Hospital.
The drive through the picturesque historical town soon ended, bringing George and me to a stop on a dark, country road next to a water tower. Thankfully, Tim sent one of his team to come and find us because we might have never found the place in time for the tour. Pennhurst Asylum was designed to be an isolated location, which undoubtedly helped in keeping the truth behind it a secret for many years. We had to drive down a winding path through the woods just to make it onto the campus, and it was already after dark.
I felt a shift in the atmosphere from the second I saw the dimly lit structures of the buildings looming above. I was thankful that there was a large touring group that night. After having done some preliminary research online, I was anxious about going. Before now, everything that I had done with ghosts had been low-key or happenstance. This was my first time being with a professional group of paranormal investigators that had ghost hunting equipment. We toured two buildings that night, Mayflower Hall and Devon Hall.
In the first building, we went into a kind of common hall where patients used to congregate. Paint was peeling off the walls and water pooled on the floor in some areas from recent rain. Members of the Pennhurst Paranormal Association told us background history about Pennhurst. The place was known for “womb to tomb care.” Many of the occupants spent their whole lives in Pennhurst, whether they needed to be there or not. Family members were encouraged to drop their children and relatives off and told not to look back as return visits might only upset the patient and disrupt the treatment.
Images of people being abandoned by their families, helpless to stop any ill treatment that might befall them filled me with unspeakable horror. I asked why these spirits were still here. Why hadn’t they moved on after so many years? Pennhurst was officially closed down in 1987. This prompted a discussion about hauntings and whether the spirits see the place as we do now.
Without proper funding, Pennhurst was understaffed, poorly managed, and incredibly overcrowded. This allowed for the medical staff to abuse their patients and for patients to accidentally harm themselves or each other. Severe punishments even included surgically removing the patient’s teeth so that they could not bite in defense. This was done without anesthetics. The mentally disabled were not seen as equals and it was easy for the staff to disregard them.
One story that was told to me was about a telephone lineman who was working on repairing the phone system when a patient came up to him and started swaying. After a few minutes, the patient began banging his head into the doorframe. The lineman hailed a nurse who was passing by for help, but she said that she didn’t have time to take care of the patient because she was so overwhelmed with work already. Meanwhile, the patient that she refused to help had blood pouring from the self-inflicted gash on his head.
We had been in the common room for a few minutes when I felt someone take my hand. Thinking it was my husband, I turned around to see that he was standing a few feet away from me. There was no one standing either next to or behind me. I jumped, pulling my hand back. When I brought this up to the tour guides, they said that people often reported being touched or having someone grab their hand in that room. They said that teenage boys used to be here in this section and that was their way of showing affection. We also got some cold spots in that room.
Next, they brought us to Emily’s room. Emily is the spirit of a sweet, thirteen-year-old girl who has the mental capabilities of a five-year-old. There were various dolls and stuffed animals on her bed. We communicated with her via an EMF (Electromagnetic Field) reader which spiked every time she got excited or came near us. She seemed to prefer females and enjoyed when the female tour guides and I took turns singing nursery rhymes to her.
While I was standing in that room, I suddenly saw a small, green orb. I followed it into the darkness down the hallway into another room, but it disappeared. I came back to Emily’s room. At that point, we said goodbye to Emily and went back outside to join other group members who were planning on visiting Devon Hall. Devon Hall is known for having great EVPs (Electronic Voice Phenomena). Tim, the association’s leader, took us there.
At one point, I remarked that I kept hearing what I thought to be footsteps following behind us. Tim said that while that was possible, it was more likely that I was hearing the steady dripping of water down the wall. He was accustomed to hearing these noises, so he could debunk them. He even showed me where the water was coming from so that I could see for myself. While we had sufficient light to see by, this was mostly provided by flashlights that we carried along with us during the tour.
First, we went upstairs to inspect some bathrooms in Devon Hall where they had gotten great EVPs in the past. I sometimes get mental flashes of spirits when I enter rooms. It kind of reminds me of taking a picture because I only see the ghost for a second or two before they vanish. When we entered the bathroom, I saw an image of a little boy sitting in the bathtub. I grabbed George as he went to lean against it.
“Don’t sit there!” I hissed. He had no idea what I had seen until I told him later. I didn’t want him to upset the spirit.
Tim showed us how EVPs were made. He had a recorder that would only record when someone was speaking. He would ask a question, wait twenty seconds, and then ask the next question. Later, when he would play the recording back to the group, the ghostly voices would show up in between Tim’s questions. Since the recorder only records when someone is speaking, in theory, there should have been no gap between Tim’s questions during the playback.
The bathroom was a horrible place. Tim asked if the ghosts were repentant of what they had done during their lives, but they seemed to be proud of how they molested and raped young boys. They staked out claims on stalls and threatened to harm Tim if he entered them. Clutching my St. Michael pendant for protection, I envisioned a circle of white light around our group. Thankfully, I had managed to convince George to carry a protective talisman as well. The creepiest thing about this whole situation was that while I didn’t hear anything while I was standing there, Tim’s EVP recordings showed that there was someone in the bathroom with us. This someone was getting angrier at what they took as an intrusion of their territory.
We trudged down to the basement. At this point, I was looking at the cracked plaster and broken sinks and thinking to myself that I should have brought a face mask since I am super sensitive to dust. We entered another bathroom. Apparently, they are a great source for EVPs. We had a brief discussion about whether this was because the water is a good source of energy for spirits. Then we started another EVP session.
Tim made contact with another spirit who obliged us by reading the writing that was on people’s shirts to show that he was there. Then Tim asked if he would go and see if he could get Dr. Fear for us. That was actually the man’s name, although it would have been an appropriate nickname for him as well since he instilled fear in his patients. His soul apparently came here after his passing. I wondered how this was an appropriate punishment for his evil deeds since he seemed to be able to lord over the suffering souls that were still trapped here.
Moments after Tim called for Dr. Fear, I got a flash image of a spectacled man in a lab coat walking over to our group. In my vision, he came over and placed his hands on both a young woman’s and my husband’s shoulder as if he was peering over a group of medical interns. Just then George and the young woman complained of feeling a cold spot right where I had seen Dr. Fear appear.
Tim began asking Dr. Fear questions. Dr. Fear stated that while he remembered who Tim was, he didn’t really care about his presence one way or the other. One of the female tour guides asked if he was a real doctor. The ghost half chuckled into the EVP recorder. Of course, he was a real doctor. The way that he said it made it seem as if he thought she had asked a stupid question. She had been trying to insult him, but he had dismissed it.
One of the things we had discussed were the missing bodies of patients. Patients had died or gone missing and their bodies had never been accounted for. It was thought that they might have been buried somewhere on the campus in unmarked graves. Tim asked Dr. Fear what happened to the bodies.
“I burnt them,” crackled over the recorder, followed by low, eerie laughter.
I felt cold all over after that. Tim offered to keep taking us around the buildings. The next stop would have been back to the Mayflower building. There was the ghost of a nurse on one of the upper floors who was reported to administer ghostly shots to people. George and I decided to leave. We still had a three-hour drive back home and I felt emotionally and spiritually sapped after that encounter in the basement.
I was exhausted for days following this visit, even with my spiritual cleansings. Tim later told me that was one of their strongest EVP sessions. While I don’t consider myself a Medium per say, I do feel like spirits tend to manifest strongly when I’m around. This was easily the most terrifying ghostly encounter that I have ever had. There is nothing like being in a silent, near pitch dark room and having someone who you cannot see answer you.
Emily’s Room – Mayflower Hall
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Thank you to my mother, Lady Rhea, from Bronx, NY for this story!
Rhea was born and raised on Cruger Avenue in the Bronx. After she got married, she moved into her first apartment in 1970. Her parents lived in the same building directly across from her. They could peer through their windows and tell that she was awake if they saw her lights on.
Rhea used to go downstairs to do her laundry at her mother’s because her parents had a washing machine in their apartment. She would then carry the laundry back upstairs to hang to dry in her place. Since her husband, David, had an office job in Manhattan, Rhea was always washing black dress socks.
A few months had passed since Rhea and David had moved into the apartment. Rhea was doing the weekly laundry. She had laid out six pairs of black socks on her white bedspread in two neat rows. She grabbed three pairs to put them in the drawer and then turned back for the remaining three.
Only two pairs of socks were left on the bed. Rhea paused. “Where the heck did the third one go? I know I had two rows of three,” she thought to herself.
After searching in vain for the missing pair, Rhea shrugged, and finished putting away the laundry. She was home all alone. She didn’t have a cat or dog that could have stolen the socks while she wasn’t looking and her husband was out on an errand.
Two weeks after this incident, Rhea came home to find the missing pair of black socks sitting on top of her bed. She always made the bed before she left for work in the morning. Freaking out, she ran downstairs to her mother’s apartment and told her what had happened. She thought that perhaps her mother had found a pair of David’s socks in her apartment from the last time that she had done the wash down there and had returned them to her.
“Did you go into my apartment while I was out, Ma?”
“No, Dear. I only go up there when you’re home.”
“Well, David is still at work and he left before me, so he couldn’t have done it.”
Her mother shrugged, ever the realist. “Maybe you just forgot that the socks were there.”
“I would have remembered if I had left a pair of black socks in the center of my white bedspread. No, they definitely weren’t there before I left this morning. Someone or something put them there.”
Rhea already knew that her apartment was haunted. Friends who came over would comment on seeing the shadow of an old woman sitting on her couch. Rhea describes her as being mostly see through, like a photo negative, rather than a solid, full-blown apparition. Some thought that this could have been the spirit of Rhea’s grandmother, Rose, who had also lived in the same apartment building until she died.
Rhea was right about the sock incident. This wasn’t the last time that things would vanish on her only to show up months or even in some cases, years later. But that’s another story!
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Michelle comes from a psychically gifted family that is of French, Native American, and Irish descent. She lives in a house in the countryside in Lorain County, Ohio. While the house is relatively new, she believes that the ground might be cursed because of the swirling energy vortex at the bottom of the house and the high levels of spirit activity in the area. Older buildings and farmhouses surround Michelle’s home. There is a cornfield and creek nearby the house, as well as an old church on the corner.
Odd things have happened in Michelle’s house. Her phone continuously malfunctions for brief periods of time. She has had the phone inspected, but has not been able to find a reason for the strange reoccurrence. At times, a growling can be heard coming from under the family table when there is no dog or other animal present.
Two apparitions have also been seen. The first one is of a little blonde-haired boy from the early 1900s. Locals believe that he is the ghost of a young boy who died mysteriously somewhere on the property. There is also the figure of a woman wearing a dress from the 1920s who first appears to be waving, but then a look of shock comes upon her face. Some think that these two ghosts share a connection of some sort, although the exact story is unknown.
Within a mile of the family’s house is an intersection of highways that are the cause of many accidents. People have seen various ghosts and entities along this road. There have been reports of Native American spirits, shadow people the color of translucent smoke, orbs, and gremlin-like creatures. This strip of highway is thought to be a portal that spirits use to cross over into our world.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
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Thanks to Tami from Washington State for this story!
Tami and her family moved into their first home off a military base in June 2010. Built on a man-made island in the 1980s, the house was a three-story structure with three bedrooms and a two and a half bath. One of the walls in the living room was made of two sliding glass doors that reflected the lagoon that was located behind the building.
Strange things started happening soon after they settled in. Tami’s then two-year old son, Timmy, started talking to and playing with ghost children that showed up in his bedroom. Then he told his mother about an entity whom he called “Red.” Timmy was terrified of whatever it was. Tami noticed strange scratches appearing on her son’s body in areas that he couldn’t have possibly reached on his own.
Distressed, she called her friend, Destiny, to come over and do a cleansing. Tami filled her in on the frightening things that were occurring in the house. Objects got moved around. Oppressive energy lurked in the darkest corners, making one feel on edge, as if something was going to jump out at you. While she was there, Destiny mentioned that she glimpsed a pair of red eyes reflected in the mirrors that overlooked the lagoon. Tami figured that this must have been what was scaring her son. The house was completely surrounded by water, but instead of being cozy, there was often this unnerving feeling of being watched.
Unfortunately, the cleansing didn’t completely banish the negative entity. It came back after a few weeks, only now it was much worse than before. Tami felt helpless in keeping the thing away from her son. For some reason, the malevolent spirit’s presence seemed to grow stronger whenever her husband was away serving overseas. Maybe it was afraid of him. Tami describes her husband as a no-nonsense sailor. He was probably oblivious of it and that fearlessness helped keep it at bay.
Tami called her landlady to try to find out more about the house, but the woman didn’t offer any helpful information. Either she really didn’t know anything or she was being evasive. Tami wondered if the building of the man-made island had disturbed the spirit. Perhaps the trees and the shrubs had been transplanted from sacred ground. Whatever it was, Tami never found out. They lived there for a year and half before they were finally able to move again. Everyone was glad to leave the house and the angry ghost behind.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
If you enjoyed this article and would be interested in supporting my work, please check out my Patreon page.
Our friend, Dan, came to visit from Minnesota recently. He and my husband, George, grew up together in New Jersey. A fellow writer, we were talking about our current writing projects when I asked him my favorite question: Do you have any good ghost stories?
Dan used to be a Loyalist Revolutionary War reenactor. One time, his unit was set up in Mount Holly, New Jersey to reenact the Battle of Iron Works Hill. This was a battle fought during the Revolutionary War that included the Loyalists, Hessian soldiers, and the American Revolutionaries.
Sometime before the performance, the Loyal American Regiment and some of the Hessians had a falling out. This resulted with the Hessian Jaeger reenactors not being present for this battle because the Loyal American Regiment was the unit hosting the event. While a part of the infantry during the Revolutionary War, Hessian Jaegers specialized in being scouts and snipers.
Dan’s group, the 4th New Jersey Volunteers, became a flanking unit to make up for the other soldiers’ absence. As he was going down the side streets, Dan caught a glimpse of Hessian Jaegers marching behind him in the rearview mirror of a car. Hessian Jaegers wore green coats with red facings on the cuffs and a red trim on the sides of the jacket. When he looked back, he saw that they were not there.
“Must have imagined it,” said Dan to himself and continued with the battle.
The atmosphere was so intense that day, that even some townspeople started joining the Revolutionary reenactors shouting, “The British are coming! God save the King!” After the fight was over and the American Revolutionaries were defeated, Dan and the other Loyalists cried out, “Huzzah! God save the King!” Out of the corner of his eye, Dan caught the distinctive red and green marks of the Hessian Jaegers again. Turning around, he saw a whole group of them cheering on the British.
Dan leaned over to a friend of his, “I thought the Hessian Jaegers weren’t coming today.”
“What are you talking about, Dan? They’re not here. They never showed up.”
When he went to point them out to his friend, the Hessian Jaegers had disappeared.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
If you enjoyed this article and would be interested in supporting my work, please check out my Patreon page.
Tune in this Sunday Night @8:00pm CT as we talk to Paranormal Author, Tara Theresa Hill, about her blog and personal experience in the Paranormal.
Tara Theresa Hill – Author Bio
Fascinated by ghosts since her first paranormal encounter as a child, Tara Theresa Hill writes stories about humans and spirits interacting with one another. Tara’s blog, The Ghost Post, is about real ghost stories and hauntings. Her first short story, “Don’t Be Afraid,” was published in the paranormal anthology, Urban Harvest: Tales of the Paranormal in New York City. She is currently working on compiling an anthology of fictional ghost stories and finishing her first novel. Tara lives in New Jersey with her husband, George, their cat, Diana and their bird, Skye Baby. You can follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TaraTheresaHill/, and also on Twitter @TaraTheresaHill. To read her blog, The Ghost Post, check out https://ghostpost.co/. If you have a true ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send Tara an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
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