My mom always told me one thing about my grandad who died when I was very young, that he never lied to anyone and was a simple man.
She grew up in a little town in India which was well known for its horse racing, and events would be eagerly attended by the locals and tourists alike who loved her little town for its cool weather.
One cold night my grandad was taking the short cut back to his home through the stadium where they held the horse races. It was foggy that night as it often is in his small town, he was just on his way to exiting the stadium from the other side when he heard a man call out to him "sir can I have a light?". He turned around and found himself facing a slightly built man who seemed to want to light his cigarette. Upon fumbling through his pockets to try and find the matches my grandad looked up to find the man had completely disappeared, and all he found himself looking at was the dense lonely fog.
Shaking his head in disbelief he made his way home. My grandma made him a strong cup of tea and handed him the day's paper which he didn't have a chance to read the entire day thanks to his busy life. His eyes grew wide and he immediately summoned my grandma "I saw this man tonight!" he said, "he was still in his uniform and wanted a light". My grandma didn't beleive him for you see he was pointing to the front page of the daily news and was referring to a jockey who had participated in the races the day before, slipped from his horse mid-race and was trampled to death by the oncoming horses.
Despite many people being skeptical about his story my grandad always maintained that on that night he did in fact see the dead jockey's ghost.