Before I begin, let me assure you that everything in this story is true, according to my parents. I was rather young at the time, and I don't remember nearly as much as they do. However, I'll relate their experiences the best that I can. I know it's long, but there's a lot to tell.......
I was born in Southern Illinois, and my parents lived in a two-story home on a nice, normal suburban street. The home was over 100 years old (as of 1972), and when they moved in, the upstairs was just attic space. My parents found an old train set, some old pictures and clothes, etc. But of course, being the foolish 18-year olds that they were, they just threw it all out.
While my mother was pregnant with me, my father decided to remodel the upstairs, to make room for the growing family. As I mentioned, the upstairs was attic space, with a hardwood floor. Every day, after my father came home from work (he worked the graveyard shift), he would go upstairs and continue wiring, building walls, etc.
It was during this time that he began to notice strange things....he would lay down a hammer and turn his back. When he went back to pick it up, it would be gone, only to find it laying in the hallway, or even in another room. He would get the feeling that someone was "observing" him -- not a hostile feeling, but like someone was looking over his shoulder, watching him work.
After a couple of weeks of this feeling of being watched, he got a radio to keep his mind off the feeling (and to keep himself awake!). However, not only did he continue to feel like he was being looked over, but he would hear strange feedback on the radio -- it almost sounded like a weak signal from a ham radio, or a CB. It was not very intelligible, but it definitely sounded like the speech patterns of a human (with appropriate pauses, etc.). After a couple of experiences with this, my father actually tried to carry on a "conversation" with it -- mostly by responding vaguely to the noise (saying "Oh, really? Is that right?", things like that). The noise would always pause, as if waiting for a response, and my father always responded. Then the noise would start again for a few seconds. This pattern was especially strange because, if my father politely said that he was too busy to talk for the moment, the noise would immediately stop, and not happen again for the rest of the day.
After I was born, things got really intense. My bedroom was at one end of the hallway upstairs, and my parents' room was at the other end. The entire upstairs was nearly finished at this point, except for one room between the two bedrooms. By this time, my father was working days again, so every night he got to experience the all-too-common sound of footsteps pacing the hallway, all night long. Although the hallway was now carpeted, the footsteps sounded like pacing along a hardwood floor. The steps were not fast, nor did they drag along.... they simply strutted back and forth along the hallway, almost as if someone were keeping watch. My mother, try as she might, could not hear it, until one night my father woke her up. As she strained to listen, with no success, my father touched her arm. At that very moment, she could hear it as well. She could only hear the noises if my father touched her.
A few weeks after I was born, my father was finishing the middle room upstairs. It was dark outside, and the moon shone through the window. My father was done for the night, and turned off the light. As he was leaving the room, he realized there was one more nail to be hammered. Being the perfectionist he is, he couldn't stand the thought of leaving one last nail to do the next day. So, he grabbed his hammer and finished the nail by moonlight (not bothering to turn on the light, since he could still see.....). As he turned to walk out again, in the doorway, stood a white, glowing outline of a person. It was about 6' or so, and was nothing but an outline. It was not very sharp, and there was no details of a face or clothing, but it definitely resembled a human. Oddly enough, my father was not afraid at all!! He simply stood there, and looked at the apparition. After about ten seconds or so, the ghost simply went away. It didn't vaporize or float away, it just disappeared as quickly as it came.
When I was about three, other things began to happen. My baby things, which I had long outgrown, were stored in a crawl space above the attic hallway. There was no access to this space unless you had a key, and my parents had the only copy. Yet, things began disappearing, including a white mink coat my grandmother made for me, some expensive baby shoes, and a fancy Christmas wreath (one of those huge wreaths you hang on the wall above a fireplace -- also very expensive). Also missing were some baby pictures and a gold locket. Whoever this ghost was, it had great taste! Also, it was about this time that the ghost began to take a great interest in me. Of course, most ghosts are attracted to children, so this is no surprise. Many times, my parents would hear me talking to someone upstairs, and when they asked me who I was talking to, I would say, "my friend". They would press me for details, and I would say something like "the friend who lives here with me".
When I look back on this period in my life, the details are rather fuzzy. I do remember spending a lot of time talking with someone who stayed in my room a lot....there were no other children in the neighborhood, and I was an only child, so I don't know what this could possibly mean to me. I never spoke of any other "imaginary friends", and certainly never outside of my bedroom.
However, there is one other detail that I should mention that is rather creepy.... when my mother took a job to help support us, she found a woman to babysit me while my father was at work. During this time, this woman invited all her friends over to party....alcohol, drugs, the whole bit. This woman's boyfriend was an ex- convict, and was staying over as well. However, my mother never knew about this until she found a letter, written by the babysitter to one of her friends. She found this letter, taken out of its envelope (which had already been sealed and stamped), lying on the kitchen table. It was opened and in plain view, as if "someone" had wanted my parents to see it, and laid it there so they'd find it. No one has access to my parents' home but themselves..... so who would have opened this woman's letter? I've always believed the ghost was protecting me from a dangerous situation, and left the letter on the table for my parents to read.
If you have any insight on why a ghost would steal (or where he would be putting the stolen goods),I'd love to hear from you.