My Mom lives in a semi-rural area of far north east Ohio. Her house is quite old, but I really don't know the age. It's three stories high, but has only 2 and ½ floors. (Very high ceilings) It's the greatest house I've ever seen. Half of the second floor has been converted into an apartment; the other half was left alone. There is a door that separates the two areas. Past the door are four very small rooms along the hallway, and another room that is completely open, where the door to the attic is. There is only enough room for a small bed and dresser in any of these rooms. These were my step-siblings' (4 of them) bedrooms, while they were growing up. The apartment was built for my oldest step-sister, as she was married when my step-dad acquired the house. There are two stairways in this house. The one is in the front of the house and is very grand with the original giant wooden handrail that of course attracts ALL of the kids! It is a blast to ride! The second set of stairs is at the back of the house, hidden, at the end of a small hall, and very steep and narrow. At the top of these is the open room and the door to the attic.
Before my Mom met and married my step-dad, he and his wife divorced, and she and the three girls moved out of the state. My oldest step-brother moved into the apartment. Here are some of my experiences in that house.
In 1982 I was pregnant with my daughter. I had my own place in town, but near my Mom. One night in the middle of July, I got bored sitting at home, and went to visit my mom and step -dad. They never locked their back door (or their cars or anything for that matter!) so I just went in. After calling to them, I realized that they weren't home at the time, so I figured I would wait for them or one of my step-brothers to come home. I sat down at the kitchen table and picked up a puzzle book of Mom's and proceeded to work a crossword. The kitchen is just below the upstairs hall. Suddenly, I heard footfalls down the hall to the top of the stairs, and then back again, to the separating door. I thought my step-brother was home, after all, so I called to him...No answer. I called again, but with the same result. I looked outside and his truck wasn't there, so I thought maybe it broke down somewhere. I went upstairs, down the hall to the apartment, and there was no-one there! I looked in all the rooms, and even went up into the scary bat-poopy attic, but there was absolutely no-one. Undaunted, I went back down to the kitchen and resumed my crossword puzzle. It's a very old house, after all. After a few minutes, I heard the footfalls again...So I stopped, and listened. The footfalls started at the door and continued down the hall to the attic, and then back again, a couple of times. I finally realized what I was hearing and high-tailed it outta there! The following day I told them all this story, my Mom said I was crazy, my step-dad laughed, and my step-brother was just looking at me, nodding. He said when they were kids, they heard the same sounds, and of course their mom and dad didn't believe them. And that he continued to hear it.
A few years later, my step-brother bought the house across the street, and moved out. My step-dad's parents were elderly, and though not unable to care for themselves, needed someone to watch over them constantly. (They were in their nineties, God bless them both!) So, they sold their home and moved into the apartment. We had, in the meantime, moved to Las Vegas. When my daughter was in her teens, I was having a lot of problems with her. Drugs, running away, etc. I felt like I was losing my mind, so my Mom took her to stay with her for a while. While she was there, she formed a very close bond with Gramma, my step-dad's mom. Unfortunately, my step-grandparents both passed away a few years ago.
I and my three kids and grand-daughter took a trip back home last May for my Mom's 75th birthday. The two boys stayed in what is the living room of the apartment, and my daughter and grand-daughter in the bedroom. Most of the week was uneventful, and we were enjoying doing absolutely nothing. The only thing that was strange is that my grand-daughter kept falling out of bed. This happened the first three nights. The bed was in the middle of the room, the headboard against the wall, between two large windows. I suggested that we move it next to the wall and we did. That night, my daughter and oldest son took Zoe to put her to bed. They all climbed onto the bed and began reading a book. Some movement caught my daughter's eye, and when she looked up she saw the door closing, all by itself. She simply walked over, opened it back up, and said," No...The door stays open!" She stuffed her bandana under the door to keep it open. The next morning, my daughter and grand-daughter got up early. They checked on my youngest son, who was asleep by himself (the oldest got spooked and slept on the couch downstairs!) and then came downstairs.
When J.R. Woke, he came down and asked who had closed the door to their room. None of us had. We were all downstairs. That's when my daughter and other son told us about the other door closing by itself the night before. They had told no-one about it beforehand. The door had, as long as I can remember, been held open with a large seashell. We checked, and the shell had been moved to the foot of the bed, about 7 feet from the door.
My Mom said it was the furnace kicking on. Well, it kicked on all week and nothing like that happened! We still can't seem to convince her that her house is haunted...
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