When I was 15 my parents moved to a home in Yorktown, Virginia that was built during the Revolutionary War. The house was also used as a Yankee Headquarters during the Civil War. There are many stories of ghostly occurrences that I could tell but I'll relay the most memorable.
I had decided to repaint my room. The room had a mantle piece and four windows. Let me explain that the window casings had never been replaced so it had the type of heavy wooden windows used 200 years before. The type that in order to put them up you had to use a little wooden peg to keep them in place. Well, I was laying on my bed watching my father paint the mantle piece while my mom did some trim work. All of a sudden we heard the window behind my bed slam shut. We all jumped but then I just figured that we hadn't opened it properly. Just then I looked at my father who was rather ashen. I asked him what was wrong and gave him my explanation about how it wasn't opened right. He looked at me and said, "That's all well and good except for one thing...that window was never opened to begin with".