My one and only encounter with a "spirit" happened
when I was 16 years old. It was a summer night in
Pascagoula, MS where I grew up. I was spending some time
with my grandmother and I had a friend of mine stay over
one night.
Pascagoula is on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and my
grandmother's house is about a half mile from the Gulf of
Mexico. My friend (Tim) and I decided to take a walk down
to the beach. It had been storming and I knew the water
would be rough. I have always enjoyed stormy weather and
big waves.
Anyway, the street we were taking to the beach cuts
directly threw the 'Longfellow House' estate. There are
many stories and legends about the place being haunted,
especially in the house. My wife worked there at one time
and she herself has had encounters with a ghost
named 'George'. But that is for another story for another
time. Back to my story.
As I was saying, the street we were taking to the
beach cuts right through the Longfellow house property. I
have heard that the place was a plantation back in the
days of slavery, but I am not sure. Tim and I were walking
down this street which is lined with trees and is very
dark. There are lights from the neighboring apartments,
but they do not illuminate the street very well.
We were walking and shooting the bull when I noticed
someone riding a bike approaching from the direction we
were heading. He or she appeared very distorted, which
could have been the bad lighting, but it made me think of
the way a really hot street makes distant objects shimmer.
It spooked me a lot, not so much because I thought it
was a ghost, but because we were on a very dark street at
about 1am in the morning with a person on a bike who may
be a freak.
Tim and I kept walking and talking until the bicycler
was almost upon us when it disappeared. Poof, gone,
nowhere to be found. Vanished into thin air. Tim and I
stopped walking, and I asked him if he saw what I saw. He
said he saw a guy on a bike that disappeared about 100
feet ahead of us. That was it all it took. We took
off running like we were being chased by wild and hungry
Pit Bulls.
We made it back to my grandmother's house without
looking back. We told my older sister(who lived with my
grandmother) what happened and she just said "Oh well, you
know the place is haunted." I wanted to walk through there
again years later, but the street is fenced closed. Oh
well, maybe I'll meet George some other time........
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