I'm glad to find a topic on ghosts. The word ghost reminds me of an English listen where we have to write a ghost story and everyone started to tell their own unique ghost story. One girl told the rest of a class a very strange one. She said "I have a little sister who is five years old this year, two years ago my family decided to move into a new house and leave the old house. One day, I was in my bedroom I heard my little sister talking to someone. I thought I must be my parents talking to her so I decise to join the talk. But when I did enter the room I found my little sister alone. So I asked whom were you talking to? And she answered it was an old man and an old lady. And I quested her again "what old man and old lady?" She said the old man and the old lady who always come and talk to me." But no old lady and old man ever visits our house. So I left the matter to rest. When we moved into our new house, my little sister told me "I don't like here anymore because the old man and old lady are not here."
So that was the end of the story. When you heard a story like this it's hard not to believe in ghosts. I used to believe in ghost when I was young especially after Michael Jackson's Thriller. One day my mum asked me if I believe in ghost or not I said yes without thinking.
After 4 years, I believe ghosts are all made up. I think my thoughts changed after starting biology course in school. I realised that a human being is made out of cells and if a human being don't have cells, he just couldn't do much or nothing at all. That's the difference between died and alive. And now in religious study I always say no when teacher ask me if I believe in them or not.
I'm adding the brother's story to this review because some people expressed interest and for some reason dooyoo will not let me do a 2nd separate follow-up review.
The brothers story is therefore below this one. So scroll down if you are interested.
T'is the witching hour so........... For my landmark 100th 'review' I shall recount my first ever encounter with 'The Top-hat Man'.
This is a very mild 'Ghost Story' (but true) so you might want to turn the lights off and read it by candlelight (yankee candles naturally) to get the full effect.
We moved into Number 28 when I was two.
There were 8 kids in our family and us 4 girls shared "the big room" that overlooked the back garden.....my two big sisters aged 14 and 16 in a double bed and myself and my next sister (I'll call her Lizzie).....2 years older than me....in a single bed.
One night when I was aged about 6 I woke in the middle of the night with a start. I must have heard something I suppose, but I just remember hopping out of bed onto the freezing cold 'oil cloth' (an old version of vinyl flooring) and running to the window.We had a view up over the mountain slope which was where my eyes were drawn .You would see lights bobbing around up there sometimes. People rabbiting etc in the dark (my brothers often did it too) or the farmer checking stock, and as I looked out movement in our garden, in the little patch behind our concrete coal bunker/shed, caught my eye. It was a man and he was digging !
I could hear him digging quite clearly now (no double glazing back then) and I was horrified because while my pops had a veggie patch and a pretty rose garden etc out there, he had left this particular patch for pet burials. There were all sorts of pets ceremonially buried there under lollipop-stick crosses with their names on....a dog called Sandy,a rabbit called Snowy ,a few Goldfish and a feral cat called Micky who turned out to be a Michelle and had produced kittens in the coal bunker at one point.
Anyway ,I was a cheeky little thing and in sheer fury I started rapping fiercely on the window to tell this man off. Cue Lizzie hopping out of bed to see what was happening. I pointed at him and she looked down at him, eyes went like saucers and she burst into tears and ran and jumped into the double bed atop the big sisters. I looked back down and the man was looking back up at me and I swear he looked more shocked than me. By this point one of the big sisters had climbed out of bed to see why she'd just been pounced on by a sobbing Lizzie in the middle of the night. She too looked down, snapped the curtains shut and dragged me over into the double bed where the 4 of us spent the rest of the night squashed together, me protesting grumpily while the others said nothing.
***AND AFTER THAT ***
Next morning I was perplexed as to why we were all in the big bed together until I recalled the events of the night before. It was a school day and there was the usual morning chaos in a houseful of kids, so it wasn't until after school that I scampered off to check the Pet Cemetery behind the coal bunker....no sign of digging and crosses intact. This was odd, so I told mum about it. She said it was a dream. I said it wasn't....Lizzie saw it.....so did R. I described his 'top hat' (like a magician's) and long coat . But mum insisted it was a dream and distracted me by letting me lick the baking bowl where she'd just finished creaming mixture for fairy cakes. When I asked Lizzie she refused to speak about it (she was a total wimp), and 14 yr old R just dismissed me with "Oh give over ..." gave me a push, and that was that.
The 4 big brothers simply laughed at me and patted my head when I told them.
I knew fine well it wasn't a dream ,but in a large family you learn when to pursue a matter and when to drop it or risk a clip round the ear for being a pest.
Discretion being the better part of valour, I dropped it .
***SO IS THAT IT ?***
I remember it well and if you wonder why?.......well, because at some point soon after that the man began appearing in our room . I recognised him right away of course . I said nothing to anyone, because he was nice (even though Lizzie would dive under the covers when he appeared).
I grew quite fond of him. Sort of. Well, at least I wasn't afraid of him.
I suppose you could say I respected him ,even though being so young I would never have used that word. But I recognised he was not 'like us', and I regarded him in the manner I regarded my teachers, as someone superior, in charge , and fairly likeable and not bossy (but he did ask a lot of questions).
He would appear sat in an old upholstered chair at our dressing table and if I said "hiya mister", he would stand up and walk to the bottom of our bed, put his hands on the baseboard and lean forward to chat with me while Lizzie whimpered "tell him to go away ! " and pinched me under the covers .Many nights I saw him sat there and just went back to sleep because I couldn't be bothered........but occasionally we chatted.
No, he wasn't my 'imaginary friend'. With 7 siblings,a loving mum and dad and many other large families round me I had lots of attention, more friends than enough, and didn't need an imaginary one. Nor was I a 'fey' child..... unlike my sister Lizzie. Besides, my sisters saw him a few times and my brothers accidentally overheard him talking to me (but that's another story).
That was my first ever strange encounter and I promise it is totally true.
I'm giving The Top Hat Man 5 stars,because he was OK to me and unlike later events in my life re similar things The Top Hat Man didn't scare me, so I won't rate him down.
Thank you for reading and I hope it was interesting~~~myloh.
*****MY STORY OF THE NIGHT IN QUESTION*****
Not long after the Top Hat man started visiting I had turned 7 and was due to make my First Holy Communion and I was incredibly excited at this rite of passage. We had done all the religious instruction at school and in chapel and my mum had made my dress. Back then there was no tacky bling involved in the dresses. You had satin, lace and net and you could use those as you pleased. My dress was beautiful in my eyes, although looking back it was quite plain, but I was VERY excited at being the centre of attention on the coming big day.
During this time up popped the Top Hat man one night, and because I was up to high Doh and restless I was awake and happy to chat with him. I won't pretend to remember the conversation verbatim, but I told him about my imminent First Communion. My two older sisters were staying with my gran elsewhere at the time because they did this regularly to help her out and keep her company, so their double bed was empty and my dress was laid out on it along with my veil, frilly white ankle socks,new undies, white sandals and coronet of white flowers. I remember getting out of bed and holding the dress up against myself to show it off to the Top Hat man. There was a street lamp in the street that ran past the side of our house and our room was always quite lit up from that.
Lizzie slept on, or if she was aware she said nothing that I recall .
The man hadn't a clue about First Communion whatsoever,which I didn't understand because he had told me at some point that he had a little girl my age. I simply assumed everyone had the same religion as me, so his lack of knowledge regarding this important ceremony puzzled me somewhat, but I explained it to him .......... and eventually I drifted off to sleep.
And that was that. No big deal . Just another visit from him that happened to be in the week before my First Holy Communion.
*****THE BROTHERS STORY*****
My brothers were devils, as many little boys are. They had utilised an old telephone to make an incredibly crude but working listening device. We had played with this a lot and I can still visualise the little circular speakers full of holes which were at each end of a really long piece of wire .But then it 'got lost'. Unbeknownst to Lizzie and myself the brothers had planted it in the bars of the headboard of our bed.....attached with fuse wire. Then they ran the wire under the bed, under the oil cloth flooring and into their room next door .So for a few nights they sat in their room laughing heartily at Lizzie and myself talking girlie nonsense in our shared bed. Who we were gonna marry featured a lot apparently . The grooms changed regularly depending on which little boys we liked, and of course Princes and palaces were involved. Total childish nonsense. Then the brothers would tease us next day and we couldn't figure out how they knew this stuff !
FF about 20+ years and at a family event we discussed our old homes and Eddie mentioned the Top Hat man. WHOOSH ! I was right back there in that bedroom in my mind's eye. I insisted he was real and was ready to argue in defence of my belief in him , but Eddie said "Yes of course he was real. We heard him speak to you".
Then he told me how they had planted the stupid cobbled together listening device behind our bed and how he and Jim had listened to our chatter for a number of nights.
Then he said that just before my first Communion they heard me chattering on about my dress etc, assumed I was chatting to Lizzie, and mentally zoned out . They said I went on and on for ages, but then they were shocked to hear a man's deep rumbling voice clearly say "You will look beautiful. I have to go now". I replied "night-night" and then all was quiet. The boys were gob-smacked and unsure how to deal with this. But Eddie says next day they simply removed the device and said nothing, fearing to look foolish. But they never forgot it.
Eddie and Jim say they thought they saw the man a few times in later years as they were coming home in the wee small hours from rabbiting (they were of course older then, around 14 and 16 I would guess, and rabbiting was considered quite normal as long as not done too often). They reckon they saw him standing at the window of the big bedroom as they came down the back alleyway. But they are willing to concede they might have imagined it. By this point there had been a room re-shuffle and my parents used the big room while Lizzie and I shared a tiny box room to the front of the house .The Top Hat man never visited me there and I can't say I missed him really. He was just someone who came into my life for a time and was harmless .
My two older sisters say they saw him a few times sat at the dressing table . I can't vouch for them, one is deeply religious in a way that offends and baffles me with it's intensity and the other ......well actually the other one has had a few similar things happen over the years in her English home and is quite grounded and blasé about it all , so I think she is a contender in the believable stakes. I know what I personally saw and heard and my totally down to earth brothers know what they heard.
Lizzie, as ever, refuses to discuss it.
Thank you for reading and feel free to question me should you want to, either with open comments or via PM if you are shy~~~myloh.
I can tell you ghosts are 100% real, I know this because I have seen my fair share.
I used to live in a haunted house, at the time I was terrified but now know she was just being nice.
Every night the ghost woman would come into my bedroom and stand there for about a minute before leaving, I think she was just checking up on me.
Her appearance was a bit like steam but with a figure inside, you can see solid ghosts as well I have seen a few.
She was wearing a long nightie and her hair was up in a bun, she didn't have any colour to her she was all grey.
I'm not sure why but she would cry on the landing, this was loud and very scary at the time.
The first time my dad seen her he actually thought the boiler was broken which would explain the steam, until he went upstairs and got up close to her, he wasn't scared though.
my mother tried to tell me one night when she walked through a wall that it was the net curtains we had up (this was my nanas house we moved in to help her so it was old fashioned).
One reason I know she was looking after us is because, one night my brother was sleep walking, I will mention that this house had curved stair, so falling down them could have caused a serious injury, any way he was on the landing, my mother heard him and ran out of bed, he was just about to step down the stairs, then the lady ghost appeared out of nowhere and he immediately turned round and slept walked back to bed. So she cared about our family enough to stop him hurting himself and i think that is nice. I was still scared of her though I mean she was a ghost in my house.
Other places I have seen spooks are, my cousins house, there was a little boy i seen him run across the landing but when I followed he was gone, he even used to play with the kids toys, we would go to tell the kids of and they were fast asleep.
when i was on holiday in the Dominican, I thought we were being robbed because there was an armed guard in my bedroom in the middle of the night (why always at night, I think it's because during the day all the energy gets used but during the night it's free for the taking) and the guard just disappeared, this man was solid looked very real.
I am a spiritualist now, I'm training to become a medium so i can sense spirit now we also do table tipping, this is weird it really moves on it's own accord (don't try this at home we do it in a church so there is a lot of protection).
I have seen a transfiguration medium before (there face changes) and he grew a moustache in front of my eyes!!!
any way that is a little bit of my personal evidence but remember spirit don't hurt you it's people who are living you need to watch.
I am so glad I found this topic i'd love to share my experience. I have always been a huge lover of all things paranormal. I have read books on the paranormal for years. I will share my experience which you may or may not believe I am not sure what I think of it myself.
I have visited several haunted locations, one of my favourites is Edinburgh I have been there 3 times and gone on all the ghost tours. I went in March last year with my partner who is unsure if he believes in the paranormal. We went on a tour of the Edinburgh Vaults I went to the South Bridge Vaults, having never been in these ones previously. What attracted me to these Vaults is I had read several articles about something described as an 'entity' haunting the vaults. As it was March there weren't many tourists around and our group consisted of 4 Italians and just myself and my partner. The Vaults are basically a series of chambers formed in the arches of the South Street Bridge. They are underground and were lived in by the poorest people in the city.
When we first entered the Vaults I was a little nervous, it is very dark and damp inside, you walk through a series of rooms and in each room they tell you a little about the history of the vaults. We went through 3 rooms eventually arriving in the final vault which is where the entity is said to live. The room was lit only by a candle which the tour guide put out when she was telling us the story about the entity. The room was so pitch black I couldn't see a thing, as there were only 6 of us in the group myself and my partner were furthest back in the vault. The Italians were scared and stood as close the the exit as they could. The guide began telling us stories of how people had been knocked out and scratched by the entity as well as how a small girl who was with her mother was led to the back of the vault by a hand she thought was her mothers. I didn't think much of the stories at the time although the atmosphere in there was rather frightening. I clung tightly to my partner and at the end of the tour we left feeling a little scared but ok.
We then went to a coffee shop for a drink and started reading the leaflets and looking at the pictures of scratches tourists had inflicted on them by the entity. It was only then when my partner took his coat and fleece off we saw he has three prominent scratch marks across the top of his arm. Now looking for a rational explaination I thought he may have done it himself but as he pointed out it was cold and he had a coat and a fleece on which he hadn't removed all day and the marks were bleeding like when you catch yourself and they also looked raised. I was a little freaked out but we still carried on and went on a cemetary tour later that night.
We arrived back at out hotel room at about 1am and my partner decided to have a shower to warm up, as he took his clothes off he has several scratches down his back, his stomach, thighs and arms, all red and angry and all like they were made by three fingers, we were so freaked out, I took several pictures of these scratches as we were going back into the city the following day. We hardly slept all night and my partner who is a big man and in the army was sat there with the hairs on his neck standing on end and goosebumps all over.
The next day we tried to think of a rational explaination for what had happened but couldn't come up with any, my partner has very short nails and the he couldn't reach the one area on his back to even inflict the scratch that was there. We went back and spoke to the tour guide showing her some of the scratches and the actual pictures, she didn't seem suprised at all and said that this was a regular occurance.
I still have no logical explaination for what happened, my partner is adament that he never felt anything when we were in the vaults apart from a slight draft which we put down to the fact it was an old building. Even now we still get shivers thinking about it. I have spoken to others who have been there and had similar experiences and others who say that it is nonsense.
I am still very curious about the paranormal and would love to go back to Edinburgh just to see if it happened again, I would definately encourage you to visit the vaults if you go, the history alone is great even if you don't believe in the ghostly side of things.
Do you believe in ghosts ?
I know that I sure do; whether you're a believer or skeptic I would like to share my ghostly experiences with... So take a trip into the unknown realms with me.
It all started when I was 11 my Grandma had passed away I was playing with my ball outside like children often did back then now its all video games anyway; I was so happy and content I looked up and saw my Grandma (who had passed) looking down at me smiling and then she waved at me! I ran into the house scared but curious as to what had just happened that's just one story let me share some more with you.
I remember when me and my brother were at our old house in Meredith street within the West Midlands it was night time we were listening to some music then all of a sudden my brother saw a face in our glass living room door I didn't see it but I got scared at my brothers reaction, he opened the door nothing there so we made our way up stairs to check it out how brave we were! lol Me scared run into my brothers room we stood there is silence and heard a man groan we both looked at each other in shock, we looked down stairs to see if my dad had come back as he was out no one was there and it didn't come from outside trust me. Needless to say we were on edge but just got on with things my dad finally sold the house in the end not due to the fact that it was fricking haunted because he didn't believe in such things as the afterlife and beyond.
During the time my dad was selling the house I lived with my mom, but one night I had to stay back at my dads (the house he was selling at the time) I saw him in the day when I went back on the night I walked in switched the lights on and the power tripped! (The trip switch didn't work either) Great, I thought feeling a bit uneasy of staying there alone and the things that had happened there (all the bumps in the night) I walked to my brother's new place to get some candles. I returned back to my dads and lit them walked upstairs to go to bed I got comfy and thought I was in for a good nights sleep boy was I wrong! I glanced over at the door as I heard creaking on the landing; I closed my eyes thinking it was nothing then I opened them and saw two feet in the gap of the door I was so terrified that I couldn't move. I closed my eyes again opened them then the feet were gone I looked out the window to see if my dad had come back, but there was no car on the drive. I got myself up and started to check the house scared out my mind holding a candle no one there needless to say I had a sleepless night.
Other things have happened to me in the past all very strange, for example I remember when I moved to the George Inn Pub in Halesowen of the West Midlands. I moved there with my mom all seemed ok when we first moved there, after a couple of weeks the attics on the top room where I slept kept opening by themselves and you have to really push to open them which I thought was very odd, then all kinds of strange things started to happen noises in my room like tapping on the windows a few nights. I woke up to my bed shaking and my bed was not easy to shake, hearing walking along the attic in my room and breathing in my ear so even though no one was there. I moved rooms thinking it would some how make a difference; the other room I moved into across the hall was just as bad.
I was awoke by a girl saying wake up in my ear I thought it was all in my head till the previous owner of the pub had the same room as me and was awoken by a girl saying wake up because at the time the pub was on fire the women left her cigarette lit and if it wasn't for the ghostly girl saying wake up the women would have died.
My mother who stayed on the first floor of the pub heard whispering and pages being flicked in her room and just a sense someone was there; also her partner saw a man in the bathroom. My mom's partner started to shout saying 'what the hell are you doing in here' and he vanished. Upon investigating we saw a picture of the old pub owner (photo around 35 years old), and it matched just how the ghost looked in the bathroom. He had also seen a man in the living room sitting at the table all very strange and unexplainable.
So fact or fiction when it comes to the unknown, is it all just our imaginations?
I'm very much a believer after all I have many unexplainable experiences and they didn't all happen when I was alone so it couldn't have been my mind playing tricks on me. There have been friends/family with me and who also witnessed a ghostly event.
All I know is that during my sightings over the years is that I believe and shall always continue to believe, the feeling at the time was unsettleling to say the least. Thinking that ghosts were just for stories but I soon found out how very real they are.
I know there will be people thinking there must have been some explanations, like the mind playing tricks when you already feel a little on edge being left alone in a large house. BUT that feeling you get of being watched seeing something there and gone the next, the noises, others also seeing; how do you explain that?
For me ghosts are very much real.
Thanks for reading
The human brain is an amazingly complex, strange and powerful thing. It is predisposed to percieve certain things- for example there is an area in the visual cortex given over to identifying faces (a function of vital evolutionary importance), that 'sees' faces when they are not really there, percieving them in all manner of places as the brain strives to make sense of the raw data it is given by the eyes. The same is true of auditory perception, whereby people hear voices in the wind and so on- they often really do sound like human voices because the brain is primed to detect human voices and sometimes hears them when they are not really there.
So, then, to ghosts. Ghosts, like Gods, have always been with us in the sense that we as a species have always had a need for them to help us understand the world around us- anthropomorphisising the elements and different facets of existence as gods and imagining that we are surrounded by those who have passed on, as believing that, like everything else, they have simply dissipated into nothingness, is something that is intrinsically difficult for humans to accept.
So stories are invented, and hallucinations and misperceptions are embellished, and ghosts become, down through the millennia, a longstanding and tenacious part of human experience, something that is unlikely to fade even now in these relatively enlightened times, because humans are very sucepitible to the illusion of 'ghosts' and because they offer such a rich insight into the human condition.
I have always believed in Ghosts even though I have never seen one myself. However, in my student house spooky things went on which used to scare the hell out of me and my housemates.
It all started when some friends and I had gone out clubbing one evening. We returned and one housemate and a friend went into the garden, she came back in saying she had just seen a little blonde haired girl in the garden. She had been drinking so we didn't think much of it and went to sleep. However a couple of weeks after this my other housemate went up stairs to the toilet and all we heard was a scream and her running down the stairs saying there was a little girl standing next to the sink. She ran down the stairs and at the bottom of them there is a door, she shut this but a few seconds later it flung open, as if the little girl had followed her down the stairs. Me and my housemates slept in the same room for a few nights after that as we were all really spooked out.
We went to speak to the next door neighbour who had lived in his house for many years. He said he had never heard of anything spooky going on in our house before, although a little girl who had lived at the bottom of the road had died in her house. But whether this was that little girl I don't know.
Ever since that night little things would happen to suggest there was a presence of someone else in the house. I would walk back into my room and my drawers would be open, when I was sure I had closed them. A different time, the stairs light turned on as I was walking up them, that really scared me.
So although I have never seen a ghost I do believe they exist.
Ghosts can be a very interesting subject as long gone are the tradional ghosts in white sheets and instead we are faced with shadow people,disembodied spirits,orbs and more .... yes i know i have watched too many ghosts shows...natural curiosity.Well we are all curious about what comes next are we not?!
But the topic is Do i believe in ghosts,well i believe in something,im not sure i like the word ghost as it just gives out the stereotype image and i have seen many things....and none have looked like that!
I have seen plenty of things that I cannot explain,not just me aswell,at the same time other people have seen them - like the time i saw a dog run through an old (1700's) unused/locked wooden door in an old farmyard style house,my brother saw it too,or the time me and a friend saw a person looking at us out of a window at an abandoned ex TB seclusion unit (and no i wasnt ghost hunting!!my friend was researching it)we climbed into the unit and it was of course empty.There have been numerous times where i have seen,heard and felt things that i cannot find any logical explanation for,and i have looked!So,i have to believe...how can i not!Wouldnt you?
The ridiculous Derek Acorha and his likewise séance with Michael Jackson program was voted worse TV programme of 2009 by a comfortable mile by the readers of the Press Association. It's a bit odd that Michael's first interview from the 'other side' would be to a peroxide Scouser that would not look out of place in a tacky Wirral hairdressers. I didn't see the séance but to be worse than the Horne and Corden show it must have been incredibly awful! Make up your own mind...
-The top 10 worse shows of 2009-
1 Michael Jackson: The Live Séance (33%)
2 Al Murray's Multiple Personality (16%)
3 Live From Studio Five (11%)
4 Big Top (11%)
5 Horne and Corden (8%)
6 Fearne Meets... (7%)
7 The All Star Impression Show (5%)
8 Heads Or Tails (4%)
9 Totally Saturday (3%)
10 Minder (3%)
Not all ghosts have a Scouse accents of course although most British ones seem to be from struggling stately homes and old boozers in my experience. If beer sales are down or nobody's coming to the manor house and you can't get National Trust money a ghost will bring them in. For some reason ghost don't haunt factories on industrial estates or even football grounds. If I was a ghost I would be haunting some female finishing school in Sweden mate, not a smelly old cobwebbed manor house in the sticks.
At this point I'm supposed to regale you with my ghost story and tell you I am the reincarnation of King Solomon or something but I just don't believe in all that crap. The idea of ghosts is out-dated and that's why all of them wear 'ruffs' and Shakespeare stuff. We apparently have one in Northampton, the 'Old Gray Lady', supposedly walking around the shopping centre at night. They only come out at night. I don't think she would be interested in a row of pound shops though. They don't sell bonnets at River Island.
Here are some ghost webcams girls! Only girls believe in ghosts.
Death sucks and it's the end as far as any rational thinking person knows. The bones stay here and everything else rots away which leaves nothing, yet ghosts retain apparitional status in the outline of the physical form. But as Alan Partridge said of our invisible God:"God is a gas. He's not a small gas like Calor gas, but a large gas like oxygen or carbon dioxide."
There is, of course, money to be made from the alleged after life by chancers like Derek Acorha. Village halls are packed with conmen (and women) charging middle to old age ladies (the men are the designated drivers) £10 to reassure them their moms and dads are safe in spirit. I suppose its good therapy for parents who lose their loved ones to be told they are safe and happy somewhere else but women do seem to be far more gullible on that score. Not that I would suggest men are more intelligent of course!
I know a girlfriend who does readings and although she doesn't charge she does cheat, what they call a Google psychic. In fact anyone can be one of these and no special powers are required. First judge your age demographic in the audience and then Google the most popular age names for that group. With old people one would presume names like Arthur and Mavis etc would be the type of names that pop up. You then Google things like most popular cause of death back then and most popular employment people were in and so on and so on. If you can calculate their social class and body language it gets even easier. It's called cold reading and you basically call out the top three names on the list and wait for some plonker in the audience to say my dad was George etc. If the person is old who stuck their hand up then George is dead and died of whatever is on top of your list, playing the percentages. This goes on and on and the punter fills in the gaps if you are skillful enough. She (its usually a she) wants to believe its real and goes home happy knowing someone is up there safe and watching over them, the most important part of the subterfuge. Say nice things. They get good karma and you get a tenner! Are doctors that different when it comes to tea and sympathy? This type of mathematical chance and probability can sucker a good few and allows for a good hit rate. Did you know if you had an audience of 40 people in a room and asked them to write down their birth dates on a card and slide the card under their own hands, and then you ask the audience if anyone is willing to take a £10 bet that at least two of them have the same birthday, your going to win over £260 on that bet! The whole psychic thing works on chance and probability and the more people need to talk to their departed the more readers they go to and one is clearly, on average, going to be more accurate than the other one. And the one is most accurate could be the least accurate for the next client. Now you can see the pattern. I went once and deliberately said yes to everything the lady said, this women actually believing she was physic I was that convincing, but me leading her down an alley the more intricate she got, purely on my lies. When I broke the news it was all made up and I was tricking her she said, and I kid you not: 'well then, this Alfred (my pretendy dad) chap in spirit was pretending to be your dad then Phillip....'
So any girls (or guys, and shame on you) who believe in this mumbo jumbo try saying yes to everything they predict and see how much bull they can come out with for your silver crossing their palms. If you want to freak out your mates doing your own 'reading' then get a concealable magnet and if they have an old style watch with hands then press it to the back without them knowing and watches will normally stop. If they have a watch that hasn't worked for ages then just warm it up by rubbing it with skilful slight of hand and some will restart out of the blue! This is how Gellar got people at home to magically restart watches without them twigging it was them not physic powers.
Are Ghosts real? A lot of people don't believe in Ghosts and while I totally respect their opinions and explanions for this I do think they are real and thought I would share my experience with you.
I have always believed in ghosts and since I was a little girl I have been interested in the subject even though I am a total wuss and end up scaring myself when I watch or read things about them.
My mum once told me how when she was a young girl living in my nans house, she woke one night to see a transparent lady standing in her bedroom facing away from her looking out of the window. My mum was scared and just hid under her covers until she finally fell asleep. I always wondered what I would do if the same thing happened to me and in end decided that I would most definatley NOT want to see one as it would scare me far too much.
When I was about 16 years old my dear Nan was losing her fight against cancer and was very ill. I was visiting one day and it was just me, my auntie and my nan in the house, my nan was having a sleep and my auntie and I went out in the garden to hang the washing on the line. My nan was extremly ill and was mostly living in her dining room which was right at the back of the house and joined onto a small, old fashioned conservatory. The door leading to the dining room where she was sleeping was glass with a long net curtain hanging on it.
I was pegging up the washing when I looked up, over to my nans door to see the net curtain slightly pulled across and then back again and caught a glimpse of someone in a grey top or coat as the curtain closed. I thought nothing of it as my uncle was living in the house at the time and my great aunt was due to visit.
When my auntie and I went back indoors my nan was still fast asleep and there was no one else there, it turned out that my uncle was away working and my great aunt arrived an hour or so after it happened.
My Nan passed away a few days later and a while after that we were up in the attic sorting things out when I saw my grandads old grey jacket neatly sitting on top of a box - he always wore it and as soon as I saw it I remembered that day in the garden when I had looked up and seen someone in grey standing in my nans room. My Grandad had passed away when I was 10 years old and he used to sleep in the dining room where my nan was when she was ill as he had a plastic leg and must have found it hard to get up and down the stairs.
I think it was him I saw that day and I think he knew I would be scared if I saw him properly. Im sure some that read this will think im silly but I believe it and when I told other family members they had no explanation for what else it could have been, my nan certainly could not have got up herself and she was wearing a blue dressing gown anyway!
For anyone that enjoys a bit of paranormal activity I recently watched a programme called 'ghosts of the underground' which was looking into various spooky goings on at London tube stations. Some of the goings on were really creepy and it really spooked me out! take a look on you Tube.
She exists quietly in corners of the house--our house, that is. "Our house" being hers and mine, of course. She was here first, and apparently she wants those of us who dwell here now to understand that fact. We've no idea how long she's been here. We've never seen her. Rather we've felt her presence occasionally, and heard her even more rarely. We're sure she's a "she" because the rustle of her skirts gives away her approach. Well, actually it's more like the hint of a rustle. I imagine her clad in a high-necked, long-sleeved, bell-skirted dress that is fitted tightly at the waist and of a modestly dark color--something practical and prosperous for the early 19th century.
We bought our 18th-century Federal-style house (that's 'Georgian' to you folks across the Pond) because I fell in love with it. I found it vaguely graceful and alluring, and it really was love at first sight. Nearly everyone else discouraged this new love of mine as a fit of madness, but the nay-saying only made the allure grow stronger. So we bought the old house with all its problems--the saggy kitchen floor, the lack of closet space, the damp (at times truly wet) cellar, and the lack (absolute and total lack) of kitchen cupboards. In the process, we got a good deal of authentic period craftwork throughout the house, old Southern pine floors with their boards of variable width, six fireplaces, hand-hewn chestnut ceiling beams exposed in the kitchen and dining room, a variety of good and bad chandeliers, and an elegant formal entry hall complete with a wide staircase and black walnut handrails. It all seemed, and to me still seems, a fair exchange.
We also got our quiet, well-mannered ghost who was almost certainly once the mistress of the house. She chides gently at the edge of my consciousness when the housework isn't properly kept up (as she is doing now). She hovers at the window nearest my latest efforts at gardening. She lobbies quietly but insistently in favor of the higher priced renovations. And she sends out special maternal vibrations whenever one of the grandchildren seems in difficulty.
Our ghost is caring and gracious, as she must have been during her mortal life. She endeavors to ensure that hospitality is maintained, even when circumstances are less than optimal. She exacts standards, and we obey--much, I imagine, as servants once bound to the house must have obeyed. We too are bound to the house, to its history, to its obligations. Our lady mistress in her quiet way ensures that we honor the legacy of the house and that we pass it all along to the future in better condition than we found it. She has become the conscience of the house. She demands integrity in all things. She is the mistress caretaker, the head housekeeper, and she no doubt carries smudged white gloves at all times and in all places.
Clearly, however, the powers of our lady mistress are limited. She did not, for example, have the strength to prevent the house from falling into neglect and disrepair. Perhaps she requires a kindred spirit to enforce her will--someone who loves the house much as she does, someone willing to dedicate lots of time and a little money to putting things right. Thus she has learned patience in the wake of her long connection with the house . . . or perhaps it was patience that bound her. Regardless, her persistence and the power of her gentle persuasion are enough--just as they hold me in her thrall, a willing captive.
I know, as our lady knows, that all will occur in its own good time. The house endures and gradually returns to its former integrity. We do what we can, when we can, and we try to pass along the whole to the next generation in better shape than we found it. We aren't intended to make it perfect, just better. So our lady mistress must have learned in life, and in her afterlife, she shares the lesson.
when i was younger i used to see a lady in a purple night dress in the night walk from my mum and dads bedroom (which we have found out used to be a frontroom) to the bathroom.I saw this from a young age but when i used to tell my parents my dad didnt agree and said i was doing it for attention. After a few years i gave up saying anything i wasnt affraid as i had grown up seeing this lady and she never came near me. We had 2 friends come to stay with us years later who had a young girl this was when i was around 14-15 and had stoped seeing this lady and when the amy woke up in the morning she described the woman to a tee with the purple night dress. Although i havent seen this lady for years as i have got older in the night when i get up to go to the loo i feel like there is something around so i run to my room and back which my partner finds highly hilarious!
4 weeks ago i went to my first spiritualist reading and wasnt sure what to expect from it the first thing she brought up was about my illness and she went through everything in great detail. LAter into the reading she chucked and she said to me why do you run in the night. i Just went quiet i didnt know what to say she said to me you shouldnt be scared there is a lady who wants to communicate you she has never hurt you and she wont now. so i have to say i do believe but then i can understand people who havent seen anything who are sceptical
Ghosts; the subject of much controversy, money spent, millions of hours of camera time, photographs and a several lifetimes of discussions.
I have a theory, one I'd like to talk you through.
We are made, partly from carbon. In fact, the elemental composition says we're more than 50% oxygen, 20% carbon and then there's many more elements like hydrogen and nitrogen which drop much lower.
Let's stick with oxygen and carbon.
If a persona dies their body begins to decay, releasing gases and the cell decay begins too, breaking down to our basic elemental parts.
So, our last breath leaves the body and with that some of our elemental cells.
The body is cremated or buried and we're eventually reduced further to those elements, especially carbon. Carbon is like a base unit for much of what we see around us and carbon is reused.
So, imagine the body is buried in a graveyard. Over time the elements of the body are absorbed in the earth and the various creatures within it. A worm which has consumed some of the carbon comes to the surface, gets picked up and eaten by a pigeon and the pigeon is later attacked and partially consumed by a cat. Minute parts of the original carbon matter are now within the cat. The cat sits in your lap, purring and sharing the air around and you both breathe and now you breathe in the same molecules that the cat exhales. Does that mean you now contain some of that original carbon matter?
It has been surmised that cells have memory, so, if the original carbon has a memory of being within the human and is now part of the cat, what happens to the memory?
Perhaps this might explain something about our cycle of experience? About how transplant patients take on aspects of the donators personality? Maybe how we believe in reincarnation.
And if we can see the connection there, surely the idea of cellular memory needs little stretch to composite a ghost? A visual representation of the memory?
Imagine if you like, the world of Phillip Pullman (His Dark Materials) where such a thing as 'dust' exists. Now basically his work connects with particle and quantum physics, with the likes of the string theory and again a sort of cellular memory.
String theory basically suggests that if you were to take a piece of string, label one end 'the beginning of time' and the other end 'the end of time' and then imagine each moment in time marked along the length. Now roll up the string and see how 1960 touches 1822 and 2065 and 809 and many others. If the barrier between those times is thin, or is damaged or is somehow compromised, could we perhaps see into it, just a glimpse, or a shadow? Could we in 2009, see Mary Queen of Scots execution in 1587, because those moments touched?
This might, for example, explain cluster sightings, where Lady Grey is seen many times for a while and then not again for years. If summer 1997 happened to touch the time of her death in the string theory then it could be expected to see many sightings and then none for an extended period.
So, maybe we are not seeing ghosts but a simple window through time?
Perhaps it's not a ghost but a cellular memory? A recycled experience?
I've seen no end of things I cannot explain, a picture launching itself 9 feet across a room, a tv which turned itself back on, a person on a security camera who couldn't exist, a voice waking me when no one was around, footsteps coming up the stairs every night but no one ever being there. My experiences are many and varied but I actually don't believe in ghosts. I don't think that cellular memory nor quantum physics explain it either but it's the nearest I can get to a logical and possible reality.
I'd love to know what you think!
Up until last year, I would most definately have said categorically that ghosts do not exist. I thought it was just a case of mistaken identity, people on the wind-up, or just attention seekers. It just doesn't seem possible that they could exist.
However last October all that changed, I know by recounting this tale i'm going to fall into one of the pre-mentioned categories in some peoples minds, but all the same im going to share it.
At this point im going to say, I am 100% convinced of what I saw, I was 100% sober, it was dull but daylight, and my colleague also witnessed the same events, it didn't particularly fill me with any deep fear, or dread. More-so we had a deep curiousity and dissbelief at what we had just seen.
So last October, as part of a business trip I booked myself into a hotel near Lake Union, in Seattle. It is one of the ones which overlooks the Marina. I'm not sure if Marina is the correct word, but it is the part of the lake on the east side, where they have the boat/yacht sales yard, and closeby to there, you can get a flight for an air-taxi.
Anyway, long story short, on one sunday afternoon, when we had some spare time, a colleague and I, were walking around that area looking at the boats, when we glanced across at a jetty* (*in this case a structure which appears like a pier, but with branches coming off that have boats parked/moored, on either side) near one of the expensive yachts, and saw a strange looking lady and her daughter.
Both were dressed in what I can only describe as "Amish" type clothing and both were standing looking out to the lake. They were holding hands, side by side, and were quite still. I assumed they were looking for the sea planes, or maybe looking at the boats.
I can remember that I turned to my colleague and commented something like "What the hell is she wearing", and he replied with something like "Probably bible bashers", the conversation jokingly went on. However, as we walked along we could see the jetty they were standing on, the entrance to it was close to us, and it had been chained off, and there was a "no entry beyond this point" sign. I recall we saw it, and commented to each other, about wondering what they were upto, at this point they were still standing there motionless. We didn't see anyone else walking around, and given that it was quite a cold, grey day, I could see why.
I suppose we assumed they were customers and were being shown around, nothing more was said. As we meandered around the area, the view to them was obscured, when they came back into view they were facing us. They appeared normal other than the clothing, but they drew my gaze because they were eerily standing there not talking or looking around. I didn't consciously think about it at the time, but I guess they were around 20 metres away, so not that far.
At some point between my colleague talking to me, and us looking around at some of the other boats, we noticed they had vanished.
We both seemed to simaltanouesly comment that the 'hill billys' had gone, but when we thought about it, and looked around we just couldn't figure out where. The boats were definately all locked up, we had a clear view of the whole jetty where they were, and it was empty now. There was no way anyone could have walked away out of view so fast. It basically, just spooked us out. We looked at the water, wondering if they had fallen in, or had just committed suicide, but the water was calm, barely a ripple.
I guess we convinced ourselves they had walked into one of the boats. We did stand there for a while looking, but there was no sign of any activity on any of the boats/yachts that were there.
When we returned to the Silver Cloud Hotel where we were staying we mentioned it to the lady serving at the bar. She listened to our story, and even though we were semi-joking and laughing about it, she calmly told us that the Marina area of Lake Union is haunted, and they have heard stories of people seeing similar things. To say I got spooked even more is an understatement.
So far as I am concerned, two people witnessed two animate objects standing on a wooden jetty in plain view, in daylight. Both objects went out of view, given that the boat yard was closed it seems unlikely that they had the keys to any of the boats, and not plausible they could have walked out of view in seconds.
I didn't believe in Ghosts, whatever they are, but now I do.
Oh yes, Ghosts or Spirits most definitely are real I know because I lived with a few for 4 years.
Heres my tale, are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin......
At the ripe old age of 18, I got fed up of my job in a restaurant in Manchester and having itchy feet secured myself and my then boyfriend who was a chef, a grand new job in an old, coaching house Down South as we Northerners say.
What we didn't know was just how old it was and what a frightening history this coaching house had.
The Ostrich Inn, High Street, Colnbrook, Berkshire, SL3 OJZ.
Its situated 5.5 km (3.5miles) southeast of Slough,
9km (5.5 miles) east of Windsor
30km (19 miles) west of London.
The village is situated on the Colne Brook a tributary to the River Colne, hence why they say it was named Colnbrook.
Everything lovely so far.
The Ostrich Inn is the 3rd oldest Coaching Inn in the UK and dates from 1106.
Originally called The Hospice we think because the High Street its situated on is on the main London to Bath road and the turning point for Windsor and so was an ideal place for weary travellers to freshen up before continuing their journey.
Over time the name evolved into The Ostrich Inn and when I worked there was complete with its own stuffed ostrich affectionately known as Esme (evil looking flea bitten old bird she was, always looked like she would "have" you if you turned your back on her, yes, even though she was stuffed, many a Christmas time Ive had to persuade a drunken reveller she wasn't a good idea to hitch a lift home on)
Exciting stuff, away from home, new job, living in a house on the end of the Inn. As soon as I walked in I felt a strange atmosphere, I had felt it at the interview but was convinced this was the job for us and so put it to the back of my mind.
We met all the staff and sat to share lunch, great so far, no problems.
After lunch we were shown round the building, it was sooo old all the walls and ceilings were "higgledy piggledy" and the doors were on a slant, talk about character, this place was ozzing it!
When nosing round I noticed a Model in a glass case mounted on the wall, whilst having a look a member of staff came over and showed me how it worked and explained it was from when all the murders had been committed in the Inn.... WHAT? RUN THAT BY ME AGAIN... WHAT MURDERS...?
Seemingly in the 17th Century the Landlord Jarman and his wife set up a little money making scheme that netted them alot of money but resulted in approx 60 murders.
They constructed a "special" bedroom above the kitchen which contained a "special" bed.
When a particularly wealthy man arrived Jarman would say to his wife-"a fat pig is available" she would reply " put him in the sty for till morrow".
Both husband and wife would pay special attention to said guest making sure he was very drunk. Once tucked up in the "special" bed in the "special" bedroom, Jarman would pull 2 metal pins out of the wall and the bed would tip up, opening a trap door in the floor and the poor unsuspecting man would fall into a cauldron of boiling liquid in the kitchen below.
Disposing of bodies was easy they just threw them into the brook, because there were so many Highwaymen about no one asked any questions.
This plan worked very well until they got too greedy (always do, don't they?).
They got a wealthy local man Thomas Cole drunk, got hiM to stay and murdered him dumped the body as usual, but his horse got free and headed home.
Questions were asked and someone had spotted him entering the Inn, of course on inspection the truth was uncovered and Jarman and his lovely wife were both hanged.
Can you imagine how I was feeling at this point? Not only was I going to work here, but live here too. AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!!!.....
Downstairs was a lovely bar selling bar type food , really warm atmosphere with open fires, they did a fabulous French Onion Soup, it always felt most welcoming down here.
Up the rickerty stairs you go, on the first landing you meet our dodgy looking suit of armour, the stairs then turn to the right and the air turns cold instantly even on a red hot day, it was freezing. The toilets on this landing were freezing too and you got the sensation of some one pushing past you, even though there was no one there......
Up the last flight and you could turn right to the restaurant, atmosphere a little" cool ",but comfortable most of the time especially as the restaurant was always full .
Or you could turn left, down a corridor that took you to the managers living quarters, this was the most evil feeling I have ever encountered its hard to describe, the airs soo heavy you can't breathe and you instantly feel depressed heres the best way to describe it to you-
The manager had a big black labrador dog Ben the softest most good natured dog you could meet, infact Albert the Inns cat used to regularly beat Ben up, thats what a pushover he was.
Except if you tried to get him up to the said top corridor, he would turn into a snarling, growling, barking fiend that would happily bite your hand off, all his fur stood on end, he looked like a "Hound From Hell".
The "murder room" was a store room while I was there and the highly amusing chefs would regularly freeze a white overall and hang it up so when you went in frantically looking for the light switch you would be confronted with a white entity hanging, oh the screams! Im sure you can imagine.
The house we were to live in was on the end of the Inn but not connected internally thank goodness.
One night we saw a cigarette light up in the corner of the room when we switched the light on it was gone.
Another night we sat in bed watching TV and something/one came into the room swished past the TV knocking the keys off the top onto the floor our cat Rodney arched his back with all his fur on end and hissed and spat until whatever/whoever walked out through the wall then Rodney settled back down to sleep.
We have hundreds of tales to tell, but its the feeling its so hard to describe, you really have to experience it yourself.
The atmosphere in our house was nothing like "the corridor", or I wouldn't have been able to live there, but there was a strong "presence" and nobody liked to be in the house alone(4 of us lived there), if anything it felt like the lost Souls that had been murdered.
Whereas "the corridor" was pure evil and had to be Jarman and his lovely wife.The times we ran through that building and didn't dare look up, or back........
When we worked there it was owned by Derek and Brenda Lamont, a lovely true "old fashioned" English couple, at New Year they always made the staff a 5 or 6 course banquet and served us all, it was a real treat for all our hard work.
I know it has new owners now and I have seen it featured on " Most Haunted" that was really strange, watching the programme knowing I worked there.
Do ghosts exsist? You tell me? There was something very strange going on at The Ostrich Inn thats for sure, if your ever round that way, pop in and see for yourself and let me know, watch out for that nasty flea bitten old bird Esme, I wouldn't trust her!
If you fancy a nosey, take a peek at -www.theostrichcolnbrook.co.uk
Thanks for reading my ramblings and sleep well........