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Cries of A Baby

Logan Lee Braasch, Wisconsin, USA
May 2002

When I lived in Georgetown, Colorado, I had a Aunt named Hillary who told me so many stories about paranormal experiences that happened in her life.

Georgetown was one of the most historical places in Colorado and became known for the grave-rest of "The Unsinkable Molly Brown." Yes, the plump lady who sailed on Titanic. She comes back every twenty years to her home in Georgetown.

Back when Hillary was twelve or so, she woke up to a baby crying. This wasn't a big deal because there were four toddlers and six babies in the house. She ran done to the baby room when she noticed nobody was taking care of the babies. But to her surprise, she found that not one baby was crying when she walked in. The crying stopped and she went back to bed.

The next day, she awoke again to a baby crying. She put some pants on and headed down stairs to the baby room and found that not even one baby was crying. The crying continued and to sounded, (to her) like it was coming from upstairs. She went back upstairs and listened to the crying. When she reached her room the crying stopped.

She was sitting down at lunch time with all her family when again a baby started to cry. The dad in the family got up and went to the baby room. When Hillary's dad was gone she whispered to her mom, "Mom, no baby's crying." "What do you mean 'no bay's crying'?" Her dad came back, and sure enough, the babies were all asleep. Her dad was abruptly shocked and wanted an explanation. The sobs of the baby continued and her dad crept upstairs to find where the sound was coming from. When they got to Hillary's room, her dad said, "It's in here." Her dad opened the door and heard that the crying was coming from a wall next to the closet. (Hillary's mom was not superstitious. So she blurted out, "Do you think one of the babies crawled down the laundry shoot?")

Hillary's dad began hacking down the wall the next day because they surely couldn't live like that. It took less than three hours to get to something. The axe he used hit something. He cleared the dust and sure enough there was a box there. The box was huge, rectangle, and black. It took him no more then two hours to dig around it and finally get it out of the wall. When he dragged it from the wall, the crying totally stopped. The box went further back into the wall then Hillary's dad expected. Reluctantly, Hillary's dad put all the dust and wall particles back in. The box had a lock on it made out of gold. For awhile, Hillary's dad tried to break it open but it wouldn't work. So he put the lock over a burning fire and made it hot enough to melt it off.

The final moment had come. Hillary's family gathered around the box. Then and there, Hillary's dad swung it open and under the dust floating in the air were some pictures of a baby, some clothes, and under that, some tiny bones.

Hillary's mom tracked down the family who used to live there. This is what they said: "Our baby, Samantha, caught swamp fever and died in the middle of the night. She was four months old and we loved her so much we just couldn't let her go. So we buried her in the wall."

Logan Lee Braasch, Wisconsin, USA
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