I posted a story a few days ago about the attic light in our home where I grew up. That was about 7 months before this happened.
I'd like to start out by telling as much as I know about the house I grew up in. It was built at the turn of the century, like many of the homes in the neighborhood. The neighborhood has since been designated as historic, so no new construction is allowed.
The house was built by the Miller family. I have talked to my sister to see what she knew, and she said that Mr. Miller's mother died in the house in the 1920's, which explains A LOT.
Growing up, I do remember smelling lilacs a lot, which was weird as my stepmom didn't wear perfume of any kind, nor did any of us. Except dad. He used Old Spice, and only on Sundays for church. Ugh. Anyway, the recurring smell of lilacs sticks with me as a major memory from childhood. I had no idea where it came from, and I thought I was the only one smelling it. I later found out from my sister and stepmom that they would smell it too.
Something else that would happen would be the sounds of someone tiptoeing upstairs in my parents room. All of us are accounted for downstairs, but you could hear the sounds anyway. I do remember once my brother went up there to see if he could figure out where it came from, but it was silent when he got there. Hmmmm. When the attic light event happened, it was a real game-changer.
This incident took place during the summer of 1975, after the attic light incident. I was 15. This one particular day, my stepmom and I were putting up new drapes in the front dining room. You know, another one of those rooms in your house that no one uses, lol. The windows in Victorian style houses are narrow and long, so floor-length drapes were bought. We would just hem them. Easy enough. NOT.
Well, we had finished one panel. The second panel was spread out on the huge dining room table. I went along ironing the new hemline, and my stepmom followed along, pinning the hem in place. I had finished the ironing, so my stepmom took a bathroom break while I finished pinning.
So I'm standing with my back to the wall. There is an open doorway to my right, leading into the TV room, and at the other end of the long table, there was the closed door leading into the front hallway. Well, I'm pinning the drape when the doorknob on the door at the far end of the table starts turning. Not fast, not slow, just like regular speed. I was frozen in place, watching that knob turn. Please, God, don't let there be someone standing there. The door opened completely, no one was there (thank God) and slammed closed. It was an old solid oak door with an iron doorknob on it. No wind could blow it open since all the doors and windows were closed. Immediately after the door closed, I felt a super cold breeze pass by me. I was out the backdoor like hot butter! I ran all the way down to the foot of the yard, and turned to look at the house. First the attic light, and now this. I'm done with that place, I thought.
My stepmom heard the back door, and came out to find me standing in the yard. She called me back to the house, and promised to stay with me. When I came back in, she noticed that I still had pins in my mouth from working on the drapes.
I told her what happened, and she told me that things like that happened all the time when she was alone. OMG! Then, she told me not to tell my dad because it made him mad that we thought there was a ghost in the house. From then on, if I heard footsteps or any noises, I went to her with it!
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