I am happy to announce that I have published my first book of fictional ghost stories on Kindle: The Spirit Hour – Volume 1.
Imagine if you could see and hear spirits. What would they say? How would they act? The Spirit Hour is a collection of five stories about the afterlife and how spirits interact with the human characters they meet.
I am also working on a ghost story novel that I am hoping to find an agent for after this draft is complete. Between these writing projects and promoting, I have not had as much time as I would like to devote to The Ghost Post this year. Please be patient. I will resume writing stories for The Ghost Post as soon as I can.
Thank you for your support as I continue to grow and develop as a writer.
I hope that this letter finds you well. This will be the last blog post for the year. Thank you for all your support! I’ve got some more great ghost stories and hauntings to share with you in 2018, so stay tuned. Enjoy the holidays, and I hope the new year brings you much love, good health, and blessings!
Happy Holidays and a Blessed New Year from The Ghost Post!
Best,
Tara Theresa Hill
Guardians Beyond the Grave
Maybe it’s just the time of the year, but I always find my ancestral spirits on my mind more during the fall and winter. I believe that our ancestral spirits both from this lifetime and previous ones are always around, watching over us, and offering help and guidance whenever they can. Over the years, I’ve had a few amazing experiences with the spirits of my maternal grandparents, Grandpa Freddie and Grandma Tessie.
Grandpa Freddie used to watch me after school when I was a little girl. I was over his house almost every day. After my homework was done, we used to sit and read or watch TV together. Once a week, we would feed the birds outside of his house. He would sing to me, cook special meals for me, and watch over me while I played. He was the best grandpa that anyone could ask for. I adored him and was heartbroken when he died.
After graduating college, I got a job teaching high school English. Many people have a difficult first year teaching. In addition to juggling lesson plans and managing a classroom, you’re also dealing with parents and school politics. It’s a challenging, and often thankless profession. Couple these obstacles with a failing institution, and you have the perfect combination for burnout. Within a few weeks, I had a sinking feeling that teaching wasn’t for me. I did my best, but by the end of the first semester, I was let go. I refused to give 90s to the students who didn’t want to work, and that apparently with my struggles as a new teacher, was enough to fire me.
Unfortunately, this was just as the economy crashed. Being new to the workforce, I fell into the category of knowledgeable, but inexperienced. Constantly scouring the internet for opportunities that didn’t exist left me feeling useless. I didn’t have any inclination to do the things that brought me joy, like reading and writing. Eventually, I started to spiral into a deep, dark depression.
Then one night, I had a strange dream. I heard my name being called from my living room. I saw the shadow of a male spirit sitting on the couch. As I approached, the figure turned into my Grandpa Freddie. I remember that he was wearing trousers with a dark blue flannel, V-neck shirt. He even had on a fedora. This is the same kind of outfit that he used to wear when he was alive.
“Grandpa?” I asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Tara, you have to stop crying. Everything is going to be okay, but you have to stop crying so much. It’s upsetting all of us.”
His answer implied that my other relatives in the Spirit World were concerned, as well. I was stunned that they knew about it, but I promised that I would do as he asked. That was all I remembered of the dream, but it gave me hope that things would get better. Within a few weeks, I had started writing, and then I found a part-time office job a couple of months later. It is important to note that my grandparents were children during the Great Depression, so they knew what it was to overcome real struggle.
Grandma Tessie died of a rare form of cancer three years before I was born. My grandfather had little, porcelain bird statues set up around his house that had belonged to Grandma. I used to beg Grandpa Freddie for stories about Grandma Tessie. He would tell me that she had been a deeply loving person who enjoyed nature, singing, reading, and helping others. I always wished that I had had the chance to meet her.
My husband and I had just bought our first home and were having issues with some of the appliances. The seller hadn’t told us that the refrigerator was on its last legs. Fortunately, we discovered this before buying groceries. We ordered a refrigerator that day, but the store said it would take another two weeks for delivery. Between the move itself and this mishap, we had been eating takeout and microwave meals for a while.
My husband and I are generally healthy eaters. I tend to be more diet conscious than he is because my body is sensitive to large amounts of salt or preservatives in food. We were still a week away from getting our refrigerator when my legs swelled up from the knee down. I discovered this at work and didn’t have time to see the doctor until the next day.
By the time I got home, I was panicking about whether I was going to be okay. I sat down on the couch, meaning to rest for just a few minutes before ordering dinner. My husband wasn’t home yet, so I was all alone.
I had just started to doze off, when I felt someone come into the room. A sweet female voice said, “Don’t worry, Tara. Everything’s going to be fine.” I made out the figure of a dark-haired woman wearing a bright yellow dress standing by the couch.
As I looked at the woman, I started to sit up. “Grandma Tessie…” I said, but she was already gone. I don’t know if I entered a semi-trance in my sleep somehow or if I was starting to dream, but she came through to let me know that I was going to be okay.
The times that their spirits appeared to me, I was not consciously asking for help or thinking about my grandparents. Also, even though I had never met my grandmother while she was alive, I still recognized her by the sound of her voice. While I had seen pictures of her before, her voice is what caught my attention.
The Spirit World has a marvelous ability to tap into our world at just the right moment. There is always someone out there guiding and watching over us, even if we don’t realize it. No matter how frightened we may be, we are never alone because love transcends death.
Do You Have a Ghost Story?
Send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
Want even more Ghost Stories?
Check out The Ghost Post’s YouTube channel for audio recordings of The Ghost Post. It’s perfect for camping out, sleepovers, or anytime you just want to hear a ghost story on the go.
Are you one of the following: A paranormal writer, artist, or investigator?
Or
Do you have a paranormal-themed business or Facebook group?
Then check out my new paranormal advertising group, The Paranormal Hotspot: The Market for All Things Paranormal. There is no set promotion day, so you can promote your business, art, or group every day for free. You can also post links to sites where you sell your products or services. Our mission is to help paranormal businesses, artists, writers, and investigators connect with fans and consumers!
Get Your Ghost On!
Check out our CafePress store featuring The Ghost Post’s official mascot, Spook. We’ve got awesome coffee mugs, t-shirts, and more!
From early childhood, I have had dreams about spirits coming to visit me. This dream was different from all the others though because the person is still alive. My grandmother was recently diagnosed with dementia, although it probably was developing for years. The strange dream came a few weeks after she moved into a home for the elderly and disabled.
I received a message that someone was there to talk to me. In the dream, I exited my bedroom to find myself in a long hallway. A blue light coming from one of the rooms indicated the presence of a spirit. As I entered what appeared to be a large, old-fashioned nursery, the ghostly image of an elderly woman began to take shape at a table in the center of the room. Thinking she looked familiar, I walked up to her to get a better look.
“Grandma?” I asked.
She smiled at me and nodded. This was my grandma who loved cooking, reading stories to children, and taking care of all the kids in our family and around her neighborhood. When she talked, she looked and sounded just like I remember her. I asked her if she was okay and she said, “Yes.” She wanted to know what was going on in my life, so I told her.
Grandma knew that I always wanted to be a writer. By the time I got into my writing career, carrying on conversations with her had become difficult. So, I always told her that I was writing, but not about my interests in or having encounters with spirits. It was just something I didn’t discuss with her. Toward the end of the dream, I asked her, “Grandma, do you know what I do?”
She smiled at me. “Why do you think I’m here?” Then she hugged me again. At that moment, I felt such a deep love radiating from her and I knew that she loves me just as I am.
I believe in something called the “Soul Memory.” While it includes the memories that we make in life, our “Soul Memory” is the sum of all the memories that we choose to carry on with us from all our incarnations. During life, most people only have access to the current lifetime’s memories and the others are kept hidden. These become accessible once more after they have crossed over into the afterlife.
I believe that the “Soul Memory” stays intact no matter what happens to the body. The brain is like a computer that processes our experiences and turns the important parts into memories based on the emotions that we attach to these events. With the “Soul Memory,” even if the brain is unable to function properly due to disease, age, or some other condition, the memories are still preserved.
This spirit visitation helped me start to come to peace about what is happening to my grandma. Yes, I am still sad, but I know that she is cared for and loved. I go and see her regularly, even though she doesn’t remember me in the same way anymore. When I tell her that I am her granddaughter and that I love her, I know that a deeper part of her understands. The person that we love is never really gone because the soul is eternal and love transcends all boundaries.
Do You Have a Ghost Story?
Send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
Want even more Ghost Stories?
I have launched a ghost story magazine via Patreon called The Spirit Hour. For a dollar a month, you get complete access to all the stories in the ghost story magazine, so that you can read them whenever you want. A new ghost story will be posted once a month.
Also, check out The Ghost Post’s YouTube channel for audio recordings of The Ghost Post. It’s perfect for camping out, sleepovers, or anytime you just want to hear a ghost story on the go.
Are you one of the following: A paranormal writer, artist, or investigator?
Or
Do you have a paranormal-themed business or Facebook group?
Then check out my new paranormal advertising group, The Paranormal Hotspot: The Market for All Things Paranormal. There is no set promotion day, so you can promote your business, art, or group every day for free. You can also post links to sites where you sell your products or services. Our mission is to help paranormal businesses, artists, writers, and investigators connect with fans and consumers!
Get Your Ghost On!
Check out our CafePress store featuring The Ghost Post’s official mascot, Spook. We’ve got awesome coffee mugs, t-shirts, and more!
Ouija boards are the subject of much controversy. Having grown up with a psychic mother, I am pretty comfortable using them, although I know that it is wise to take some precautions, such as lighting a white candle and placing a chalice or bowl of water nearby to help attract positive spirits. I had some spectacular experiences with ghosts during my years at the College of Mount Saint Vincent, especially at Marillac Hall.
I lived in Marillac Hall in my Junior year. I’m glad that I had a roommate because I don’t think that I would have been brave enough to live there on my own. The oldest building on campus, Marillac was built in the late 1800s. My college always had a lot of fun hosting haunted houses and ghost tours for Halloween. After getting permission from the Residence Director, I invited my mother and a friend up to do a Ouija board séance at Marillac Hall.
I was standing downstairs in the lounge, waiting for my mother to arrive. Suddenly, I heard a tapping sound. Looking up, I saw a face grinning back at me through the porch door’s window. I must have jumped ten feet high. The woman on the other side of the doorway laughed hysterically.
“Very funny, Mom,” I chided her. “You have to come in the front door. The porch is always kept locked.” She nodded and I went around to get her and our family friend, Artie, signed in under me. Artie, also known as Lord Tammuz, is another elder of the Craft in New York City. He and my mom have been friends for many years and they are used to doing the Ouija board together. Mom, Artie, and I spent some time catching up while we waited for people to arrive for the event.
Once everyone was there, I introduced Mom and Artie to the group. Mom explained how we were going to respectfully ask any spirits who were around if they wished to communicate. This was not going to be an aggressive event where we tried to coerce spirits into making contact. While there were never any guarantees that spirits would decide to come thorough the board, Mom was hopeful that there would be a high level of activity that night because it was Halloween. The veil between the Spirit World and the living is thinnest on Halloween night, which is also known as Samhain in Wiccan traditions.
Due to fire safety precautions, we could not light any candles, but Mom said that was okay. She didn’t think we would run into any negative spirits. The Mount is a peaceful, holy place. CMSV was founded by the Sisters of Charity and Marillac Hall has a tiny chapel located on the first floor where the Sisters sometimes hold special, private prayer sessions.
We turned down the lights, keeping only the low lamps on so that we could see the board clearly. Mom and Artie did the board while I recorded the words that the spirits spelled out. The first spirit that came through was a gentleman from the 1940s. His wife had attended the College of Mount Saint Vincent back when it was still a women’s college. He had fond memories of visiting her here while they were courting. They had gotten married after she graduated.
The room that we were doing the Ouija board reading in is known as the “Engagement Room.” Mom and Artie didn’t know this, but my classmates and I did because we knew the history of the building. When the school was still exclusively for women, male visitors weren’t allowed to go upstairs to visit their girlfriends. The front desk attendant would escort the gentleman caller into the “Engagement Room” to wait. Then they would let the young lady know that she had a visitor.
The second spirit that came through was a priest with a heavy Irish brogue named Father William. During his life, he had resided on campus and taught mathematics. This was reflected in the friendly, but professorial manner in which he addressed us. He told us that many spirits chose to “haunt” CMSV, but not in the negative sense. Very few, if any were stuck there. Rather, the positive experiences that they had at the Mount forged a bond with the place that kept them coming back to visit long after they had gone to the light.
Father William went on to explain that sometimes spirits returning for a visit would be surprised by the changes that the Mount had undergone in their absence. His former abode was now a large broom closet. One of my classmates gasped, “Are you the ghost that haunts the storage closet on the third floor whose door always opens up on its own?”
“Aye,” Father William spelled out.
“Why do you stay there?” we asked.
“The landlord hates me,” he responded. Then Father William told us all to study hard and said that he had to be going because there were other spirits who wanted to come through the board.
A couple of other spirits came through. One commented on a student’s velvet curtains and said that she could leave them open if she ever wanted to see the ghosts that congregate on the balcony outside her window at night. Just like the porch, the balcony had been sealed off many years before and students were forbidden to climb out onto it, even if their windows overlooked it. The young woman shook her head, “After this, I’m always keeping them closed.”
Then the last spirit of the night arrived. This one was a female from the 1950s. “Hi, gang!” she chirped out over the board. She introduced herself as K.M. “I love Marillac! I have a monument here.” We all looked at each other. As far as my classmates and I knew, there was no monument to any student on campus. We were curious about how she had died.
K.M. grew sad. “I did something foolish that led to an accident.”
“What did you do?” we asked.
She spelled out one word. “Dumbwaiter.” She had apparently climbed inside of one and the resulting accident had led to her death.
I nodded. “Oh…That must be why all of the old dumbwaiters in the building are sealed up now.”
The spirit circled “YES” on the board.
We were all silent for a moment. Then one of the students asked, “Where is your monument?”
K.M. responded, “In here. Turn on the light.”
We didn’t understand what she meant, so we kept turning on and off lights for a few minutes. We didn’t see any monument though. It was close to midnight at this point, so we had to bring the event to a close. We all said goodbye to K.M. Then Mom thanked the spirits for joining us and closed out the session. As we were cleaning up, Mom noticed something behind a tall lamp. The lampshade had been hiding a brass plaque that was attached to the wall. The initials of the person who the plaque commemorated were K.M. from the Class of 1955.
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!
“Spook” – Artwork by Mara Cordova, Copyright The Ghost Post – April 2017
Want to show off your passion for ghosts with a little fashion flair? In celebration of The Ghost Post’s 1 Year Anniversary, I have launched a Café Press store featuring The Ghost Post’s official new mascot, Spook.
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.
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.
For anyone who knows the loss of a familiar or animal companion.
Bambi and I were inseparable from the moment we met. He was a handsome Sheltie dog with light brown fur and a white front ruff. I was eight years old and recovering from the chicken pox when my parents got him for me. Bambi was an intelligent, loving, well-behaved, and extremely gentle dog. He never bit anyone and was deeply protective of our family. He slept with his head on my legs from the first night that we brought him home until the day that I left for college.
During my sophomore year, he fell ill and became progressively sicker. Then one night during my spring semester finals, I had a strange dream. I was standing on the edge of this beautiful field. Long green grass waved in the wind. A blue butterfly with a wingspan the size of a large notebook appeared by my shoulder and started dancing around me. Surprised, I started whirling around with it. At some point in the dream, the blue butterfly smiled and kissed me on the forehead. I watched as it flew off to join a cloud of other butterflies that had gathered in the field. My heart was heavy because I knew that I could not follow the joyful little spirit.
When I woke up that morning, I knew that Bambi had passed away even before my mother called me. I told her about the dream and said that he had come to say goodbye to me in my sleep. The months that followed were a dark time for me. I mourned Bambi so deeply that my husband (then boyfriend) bought me a stuffed animal that looked like him to sleep with at night.
I started seeing Bambi’s spirit frequently after I graduated and moved into my first apartment. I have had four apartments so far and he has followed me to each one. I will turn around and suddenly see him out of the corner of my eye or enter a room and find him sitting on the floor just as he used to when I was a little girl. Sometimes I even see him resting next to my darling cat, Diana. Bambi has the most benevolent soul and his presence always brings me a sense of incredible comfort and peace. Even through death, we are still connected and always will be.
The Ghost Post 