In my last story I mentioned my haunted house being newly built in 1955 and my family being the first occupants. It is now the mid 60s and our basement had been finished into a recreation area by my Dad who was quite a handy man. The original basement was basic-concrete floor, cinder block foundation/walls, wood joist ceiling, all one open area. My Dad put down ceramic tile floors, wood panel walls, and drop ceilings with flush lighting.
There were separate laundry room, workshop, furnace room and 2 storage closets. Except for the closets these rooms were left unfinished with the cement floors and walls. One side of the finished basement had room for a pool table, a wet bar, and a couple of folding tables and chairs. This side also housed the laundry room and the stairway. Across the basement was an entertainment area with a couch, lazy boy recliner, a couple other chairs, end tables and a floor model TV. This furniture was our old living room furniture relegated to the basement when my parents bought new stuff for upstairs. At one end of this area was my Dad's workshop room, and at the other end was the furnace room.
The pool table provided hours of entertainment for us and our friends on rainy or winter days. One such day my friend and I, either about 10 or 11 years old, were shooting pool and talking, when we were interrupted by a noise across the basement. The old lazy boy chair was gently rocking; its old springs making a creaking noise. No one was sitting in it! My friend turned back to me, his eyes bugging and his mouth open.
We both threw our sticks on the table and darted up the stairs, me screaming for my Mom. We told her what we saw and though she didn't believe us she went downstairs with us to check it out. Of course everything was normal by then. As I was manually rocking the chair showing her what we heard and saw, another sound came from the nearby closed up furnace room. This wasn't a noise like something falling or being moved about, but a short sharp sound like someone hitting something against a metal object.
I don't know what protection against anything my Mom could have provided us as she was very short and a slight woman, but being a fiery Italian, she wasn't afraid of much. She walked over to the furnace room door with us close behind and opened the door. What happened next scared the living you know what out of me!
As the door opened, out of the dark I saw a hand, fingers spread wide open palm toward me, come right for my face! I don't know if I screamed or not but in probably 2 bounds I was across the basement and up the stairs taking 2 or 3 steps at a time! About 2/3s the way up I realized nobody was behind me including my Mom and friend.
Stopping and looking back they were still at the furnace room door looking at me and asking what was I doing? Coming back down I asked," Didn't you see that hand?!" Neither of them had seen anything. After turning on the furnace room light we could find nothing that could have made that noise. My Mom, making a comment about us watching too many horror movies, went upstairs and we nervously went back to shooting pool.
Perhaps these happenings could be chalked up to a boy's overactive imagination, as weird sounds continued over the next couple of years but I saw no more "apparitions". When I was 13 we moved to Ohio to a much larger house that was also built in the mid 50s with us being the second occupants, but I had no unusual experiences here. I am 55 now, and have lived in a house built in 1850 for the last 28 years.
My kids are grown and my wife has been deceased for 9 years now. When she was alive we experienced some unusual, unexplainable events, as one might expect in a house this old, but since she's been gone I haven't had anymore unusual experiences.
Sorry I have no comments on the happenings youve described. However the nostalgia grabs me harder.