Never again will I doubt the existence of ghosts. Especially since I felt and experienced my own dead grandmother in my family's bungalow in the poconos of northeastern, PA.
I had heard the story that day in 1974 of how my uncle drove his boss and his family for a summer get-away from Connecticut to that house where they experienced the horror of the spirit we now call grandma's ghost. They called my uncle, just as he walked through the door after getting back home in Connecticut and told him they would not spend another second in that house, where someone or something did not want them there. Apparently, grandma didn't want anyone but family to stay there and she did not approve of my uncle's boss being alone there. He never explained what happened, only that he demanded my uncle to come back and get them or he would be fired that day. She died only 10 years before in the upstairs bedroom. The ironic thing is, that before she died she told my pregnant mother to take care of that baby, "He will be very special here someday." Little did I realize just how special I would be. For a few days after hearing about how the house I grew up in must now be haunted, I learned first hand of what my uncle's boss and family must have went through.
My cousin and I were coming through the front door after swimming in a nearby river when we went into the kitchen. There, my cousin Karen was bent over looking under the sink for some dish soap when I noticed the cupboard door was opened above her head. She was about to hit it when she turned around to look at us. I hollered, "Karen, lookout!!!" Immediately, the door slammed shut by itself with no wind coming through and Karen stood up unharmed and said, "Thankyou grandma." At that time I felt, but never saw, something brush by me that went upstairs and closed a door. We noticed a nail sticking out of the cupboard door that Karen was about to hit and the first words she said was, "Man, that could've gone right through me." After a hug, we went upstairs and noticed that the only door shut was the room where grandma died in. We opened the door to find the window open and the curtains blowing in the breeze. I can't say I wasn't scared that day, but after feeling my grandma's hands on my shoulder and stomach as she whisked by me, I felt more assured and happy. She did it out of love, even after death to let us know she was still there. My uncle's family still owns that house, and as long as a family member is there, or noone at all it seems to be safe.