top of page


Echo, Wisconsin, USA
July 2002

I recently moved into a pretty nice 3 bedroom townhouse with an upstairs, 1 and 1/2 bathrooms, basement, dining room, living room, and kitchen, as well as an attached garage. It is by far the nicest home that I have ever imagined being able to have, and with more than enough space for my 6 year old son, my 1 year old daughter, and myself.

The lady that lived there before me with her kids was a religious fanatic--not your average religious person, but like the mother in the movie "Carrie" kind of fanatic. My mother warned me to watch out for "spiritual" activity since her "religious" rites might have brought things into our world--good or bad--and that it might not be a bad idea to burn some sage. (My mother is really into metaphysics and spirituality, so she jumps at the chance to share any knowledge.) I of course shrugged her advice off as silliness or active imagination.

Even though I am very opened minded to the paranormal and relative matters, the idea of anything of the sort occurring in my home was out of the question.

About two weeks ago, in the middle of a horribly humid night, my daughter started crying. I did not have the energy to fuss with trying to get her back to sleep, so I put her in bed with me. At the time, my 3 year old God- daughter was also staying with us. I had her and my son sleeping downstairs in the air conditioned living room with their sleeping bags. Of course she couldn't sleep through a night either, so at some point she had woken up and started crying. I left my baby asleep in the bed and brought my God-daughter upstairs into my bedroom, but I had her sleep on the floor. I no sooner got semi comfortable again, when, of course, my son woke up and wandered into my bedroom. As he crawled over me he asked me who that was in my bed. I told him it was his sister and to go to sleep. He gave me a very confused look, but as he opened his mouth to press the issue, I interrupted with a stern plead for him to go to sleep. Not thinking anything else of it, I eventually fell back to sleep.

The next morning, as we were getting ready to ship everyone to day care and myself to work, my son approached me asking where his Lully was. (That is his nick-name for my sister-- Emily) I was confused because although she spends a lot of time over here and spends many nights in the process, she didn't even visit the previous night let alone spend the night. So, I told him he was mistaken and she wasn't here. Once again he had a very confused look on his face and he said, "Then whose hands were holding my baby sister in your bed?"

Naturally, I was shocked and scared. Even when she spends the night, my sister sleeps in my son's bed--not mine, so how was he getting all of this info mixed up? He said that he saw "big white hands" holding his baby sister who was laying next to the wall. Naturally he had assumed it was my sister since she is a fairly "big" woman, and unlike my self who is of Haitian and German decent and my children who are African American as well as Haitian and German (don't ask --too confusing:) she is Caucasian. That is where the whole "white hands" thing came into play--or so I assume.

He swears that he saw the outline of a grown up's body laying along the wall next to my baby and big white hands holding her, and I know enough to know never to doubt someone's claims to anything of this sort. I can't explain it, and frankly, the only way I can deal with it is to believe it was either an angel or my grandpa or uncle [who have both died within the last two years]acting as a protector to keep her "safe" while I went downstairs to deal with the other child. The idea of anything or anyone else holding my child and being in my bed is entirely too freaky for me to ponder.

Others have drawn their conclusions, I have mine, now you can make yours. I do know that the house is only about 15 years old and other than the property maintenance man committing suicide a few years back (which shouldn't affect my house) there hasn't been any history on the premises that would back up any claims to a normal "haunting" if that is what it was.

My son has also on other occasions, in casual conversation, explained to me that he can "see dead people"(for lack of better words). He claims that he can "see them and feel them in his heart." If he tries real hard, he says he can actually see things that aren't there. I don't know what to make of all this. It could be an over active imagination of a child, but my son prides himself on being honest. He always tells the truth, even if it hurts, and even if at first he tries to make up a story, he always ends up with the truth in the end. I don't know what to think.

I'm not scared because it wasn't a scary event, but I am confused and almost intrigued by the whole thing.

Thank you for sharing my experience.


Echo, Wisconsin, USA
00:00 / 01:04
bottom of page