When my wife and I were first married, 18 years ago, we rented a house at Goobertown AR. It was on a country road across from an old abandon church and graveyard. My wife was divorced with two kids from her first marrage, a girl and a boy. We loved living there. Everything was Quiet and peaceful.
One night, not long after we moved in, about a month, we all went to bed. As I laid there trying to go to sleep, I heard very faint music playing. I got up and checked the house to see if we had left something on, but nothing was on. I stepped out on the front porch and couldn't hear it anymore so it wasn't outside I went back to our bedroom puzzled. My wife asked me, what I was doing. I said, I hear music, but I can't find where it's coming from. She said she had heard it too before, but not now. I shrugged it off and went to sleep.
Two or three weeks later, on a calm night, I heard men talking and laughing in the front yard by the gate. I looked out the bedroom window and there was nobody there. While I was looking, the voices were getting closer like they were walking toward the house. I still couldn't see anyone. They walked within fifteen or twenty feet and past the corner of the house. I turned to my wife and said jokingly, I think we're getting ghosts over here from the graveyard.
The longer we lived there the more things happened. For the first six months most of them happened after dark. Like the dog, a toy poodle, growling at the front door and watching something go from the front door to the kitchen, then running to the kitchen doorway and looking in and growling but refusing to go past the doorway. The figure of a man in the bedroom window inside the house then disappearing when my wife yelled at it to go away.
Then things started happening in the day. Cabinet doors opening on their own, toys that had set in the same spot on a shelf for days getting slung off onto the floor, many other little things about once or twice a week. In the evenings we would watch TV after supper, sometimes the rocking chair would start to rock as if he was watching with us. Even the dog got used to him being there. We got to where we talked to him and told him to make himself at home, just don't do anything to scare us. One night he was making so much noise in the kitchen my wife had a hard time getting to sleep. So the next day after work we were in the kitchen and I told him to have a seat I want to talk to you. I pointed at a kitchen chair that had the dog's ball in the seat. Then the ball jumped out on the floor. I knew he was there. I said, you may not have anything to do but we have to get our rest. We have to work for a living. You made way too much noise last night. You need to be quieter so we can sleep. After that we could hear him in the kitchen once in a while but he wasn't making much noise. We enjoyed having him there, my wife felt safe when I had to work late.
We were good friends with our landlord's sister and we told her about the things that were happening. Our landlord, who is a Baptist Minister, came to visit with his wife. As we talked with his wife he sat quietly with his head down. When he looked up, he told us we wouldn't have any more trouble with ghosts. He asked God to put a row of thorns around the house. It made us a little angry. When they left a large dead tree fell right where his car was sitting. Nothing strange ever happened again.