In the early eighties my family, husband and youngest son
(our oldest daughter was away at college and other son was
in the military) moved into a rented house on a property
that overlooked Long Island Sound.
The main house, a
beautiful old Victorian, sat on the bluff above the beach
with a stairway that wound down to the sands.
Our place was closer to the road with a common driveway. The owners
of the property were NY City people who occasionally weekended at the big house. There was a winding drive, sheltered by huge pine trees that whispered in the land/sea
breezes.
Our home was a beautiful country place with a fireplace and high, lofty, beamed ceiling.
From the very start there were always strange noises.....hollow sounding
footsteps....moans....and the calling of a young man's
voice.....the words were clear but we couldn't quite
identify them...It was if he were calling a name, Seuse or
something like that....searching for something. There
were stormy nights when my husband was working late for the
power company, when my son and I would sleep in the living
room and listen to the wind through the pines, waves on the
beach below and the anguished calls of the young man.
I found out later from someone who had long lived in this
area that the house was formerly a polo pony stable for the
wealthy residents of the main house.
We moved from there and several years later I was relating the story to a new
friend and he told me that the word Seuse (spelling?) was
the Jewish word for Horse! That just confirmed something
I wish it hadn't!
Contact me here: wndrrblue@aol.com
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