Ghostly Phone Calls: Redux

This has been such a popular article, I wanted to repost it so that people could catch up and read all the stories others have left in the comments portion. THANKS to all of you who have left your stories!!


I was in the middle of a super spooky book about exorcism and demons when the phone rang. My cell phone, which I only use for emergencies or when I travel was ringing, and since all my friends knew I was at home in Kentucky, there really was no reason for it to be ringing. Yet here it was. Playing “Sweet Child O Mine” by Guns and Roses, shaking me out of my fiction induced state of horror. I picked up the phone and said “Hello.” In return I got a barrage of language in a foreign tongue. Not just foreign, but, like Super Foreign. It was some form of Arabic I would say from the sounds of it, and after a minute or two trying to interrupt the conversation, I suddenly got a thought about the connection to what I was reading. Was my reading about demons conjuring up some kind of freaky phone call that I didn't understand? I freaked myself out. Although this call was probably harmless, it did get me thinking about ghostly phone calls.

Ghostly phone calls can be anything from a phone ringing without any sound on the other end, to the voice of a dearly departed loved one on your answering machine. After my mother died I frequently had my phone ringing with no one.. actually, more than that.. an absence of anything... on the other end. After this would happen a few times in a row, I would talk to my mother in the space of my empty living room and the calls would stop. I know I am not the only one who has had ghost calls like this, and here are a few stories I found online to share with you.

Sleepless Nights and Ghostly Phone Calls

Here's the story of my haunting. In the summer of 2000, when I was 11 years old, me, my mother, and her boyfriend all moved to a small house in the town of Deal, New Jersey. Despite it's small size, The house was quite luxurious with it's tastefully decorated rooms, dual sink bathrooms with Jacuzzi bathtubs, and it's unique features, such as the old record player in the family room. My mother and her boyfriend stayed in the main part of the house, while I got the whole second floor to myself. You would think a nice luxurious house with the whole second floor to myself would make a kid happy, but I wasn't. For some odd reason, I could never really warm up to the place. I wasn't in the best situation either, me and mom or me and her boyfriend would get into fights every day about one thing or another, and I was always getting picked on in school.

My life was really going downhill. I would wake up, get teased for six straight hours at school, come home either pissed or sad, get in a fight with my mom and her boyfriend, and lay awake in bed either enraged or crying, and that was a good day for me. However, anger and sadness weren't the only things that kept me up at night. For some reason, I always felt oddly uneasy in my room, or floor rather, at night. It was like the way you feel when you go to bed after watching a really scary movie; you know nothing's going to happen, but you lie awake scared that there's a monster under the bed anyway. So, I did what anyone else would do, blamed it all on my own imagination and ignored it.

Then, just when my life couldn't get any worse, the frightening oddness of the house dramatically escalated. I began to notice that the upstairs floor of the house was always freezing cold, no matter how high the thermostat was set, my insomnia was to the point where I had to take benadryl just to get a few hours of sleep at night, and I would always feel the room getting darker. It wasn't the lights actually dimming; it was like the darkness was coming into the room rather than the light coming out of it.
This is the part of the story where I stop believing that it's just my imagination and start to question whether it could be something more. If I told my mother that the undead inhabited my room, she would probably have sent me to the crazy house, so I was forced to live with the demonic presence in my floor of the house, until things went too far.

One night while I was lying awake in bed, I saw this glowing green light in the shape of a clawed hand appear in the middle of my room, stay there for about second, then disappear. It took me a few minutes to even register what I just saw. I was completely terrified, all I could do was sit up in my bed, stare wide eyed at the walls of my room, and wish that the sun would come up. After that incident, I considered going to live at my father's house. However, it would take one final incident to push me over the edge.

It was about two weeks later when I saw something again, something far worse. I was lying awake in my bed again when I heard what sounded like feet shuffling across my floor. My mother and her boyfriend were both asleep so it couldn't have been them. The pair of shuffling feet became two pairs of shuffling feet, then two became three and three became four until shuffling filled the whole room. I was frozen with fear once more.

Then came the voices. The voices weren't the usual inaudible whispers you would expect to hear from ghosts, but rather the jumble of voices you hear when you're in a crowded place where everyone's talking and you can't make out what any individual person saying. Just when I thought things couldn't get more terrifying, they did. I heard a bunch of phones ringing all at once. It couldn't have been a real phone because there were no phones on the second floor. In the midst of all this shuffling, talking, and ringing, one voice rang clear. It was the voice of a woman.

She picked up one of the phones, said hello, and then I heard her say "yes sir, the file is ready." Then, just as suddenly as it began, everything stopped. No more talking, no more ringing, no more shuffling, just silence. After that, I moved into my fathers house quicker that you can blink an eye. Ever since I moved, I feel no more uneasiness; I sleep sounder than a baby, and the only demons I stay awake watching are the ones on Inuyasha. It's been four years since I've seen that house, and when I look back on it all I sometimes wonder why the hell would a ghost be talking about some damn paperwork?
 -Mandy. (story from http://www.guardiantales.freewebspace.com/Sleepless.html)

Another freaky story...

On a very warm summer afternoon, I was alone in our house and was taking a nap on the sofa in our front room. I was having a strange and melancholy dream about my brother who had died a little over a year ago. I don't remember the details of the dream but I remember that he kept telling me a certain number over and over and over again! When I finally woke up, the number was still sticking in my head... it was a seven digit number. After several minutes I realized that the string of numbers was a a very familiar phone number. I just couldn't place the number at first. Then, suddenly, I realized that it was the phone number of my grandparents who lived in San Diego. They had died over ten years prior. My deceased brother and I were very close to them and often called them to talk when we were in our elementary school years ( which is why it was such a familiar number! ). I don't know if it was because of the heat or because of the lingering emotions brought on by my dream, but I got a crazy notion to call the number.

The phone on the other end rang four or five times, and then someone answered. My heart started racing, because I was expecting a message that the number had been disconnected! I really didn't know what to say... so I asked, "Is Dottie there?" ( Dottie was my grandmother's name. ) There was a pause, and then the voice said, "Who IS this?". I said, "This is David." Then there was what I would describe as surprised laughing on the other end of the line. Then the female voice chuckled "Oh my God! It's been so long!" I asked, "Who is THIS?". The voice sounded slightly perplexed and she said, "Why, it's Nana!" ( That is what my brother and I used to call my grandmother. ) Only our family and my uncle and his family knew that we referred to her as Nana! I felt my stomach getting queasy from fright and disbelief, and I squeaked out "Nana?" The voice said, "Yes! It's so good to hear from you David! Let me go get your Grandpa. He's out in the 'Rumpus Room' out back." My grandparents had a part of their garage in the backyard that had been converted to a full bar with a pool table and couched in it, which they referred to as their "Rumpus Room".

The line got very noisy, then there was a squealing sound, and then the line went dead. I felt a mixture of relief from the creeps I was getting from talking to my long-since dead grandmother and disappointment that I didn't get to talk longer to her, or at all to my grandpa. I have called the same number again in the recent past and got the message that "This number is no longer in service.." I really don't know what to make of that phone call. It seemed that the person really was my Nana. It sounded kind of like her voice -- but younger than what I remembered -- and because she knew about the "Rumpus Room"... Is it really possible to make a phone call to the Other Side? Story from http://www.castleofspirits.com/stories02/otherside.html Got your own ghost phone call story? Share it here.


photo by mscaprikell flickr.com

The Voice at the Stairs Part 1

When I turned 17 years old, my interest was renewed in things spiritual, and psychic. The Ouija board again became part of the entertainment for my high school friends although I showed it more respect than I had before.

Around midnight one evening, my boyfriend, two girlfriends and myself hung out in my basement listening to albums and telling ghost stories. I snuck up the darkened stairs and retrieved the Ouija board from the dining room closet without waking my mother whom laid sleeping in the other room.

I brought it back to my friends and we began to try it out. Wondering if we could still get any answers from the neglected spirits, Tim and I laid our hands on the planchette.

The details of what we asked seem blurry to me now, except for the final questions of the night. My friend Liz had lost her father many years before. She never talked about it, but we knew it was a painful memory for her. Having been raised by strict German Catholics, Liz was a weekly church attendee, and really very wary of the use of Ouija and what it meant to talk to spirits in this way. She sat at a distance from the rest of us on the floor until the Ouija called her name.
“ I have a message for Liz” the board spelled out.

Liz shook her head, not wanting to hear it, but curious and well meaning; we encouraged her to allow us to go on.
“ It’s from Poppa.” The board spelled, and then continued to spell a few words in German. None of us except Liz spoke or knew it.
“Tell them to…” Kathy spoke out as the letters turned into words “Tell them to STOP.”
Quickly Tim and I raised our hands off the board and all four of us suddenly felt a chill go down our spines.

“ Diane!” my mother shouted from the top of the stairs that lead down to the basement.
Surprised to hear my mother’s voice so late, I jumped up and ran to the base of the stairs.
“ Yeah?”
“Are you kids playing with that Ouija board?”
“Yeah!” I replied, now stunned that she somehow knew this.
“ Put it away.” She said, appearing somewhat harried.
“Why?” I wondered.
“I was just woken up by a voice in my room. It said, Tell Them to Stop!”
We packed up the board, and I said goodnight to my friends, promising to get together the next day to discuss what was happening.
I brought the game upstairs and went to bed.
I awoke the next morning to find a crucifix hanging over my head, and the Ouija board packed away, again with a rosary atop it. Mom never did tell us where she hide it, and we never touched it again. At least not that particular board.

Stay Tuned for Part 2. The Next Day.

Photo by extranoise Flickr.com

Exorcisms and the case of Annaliese (Emily Rose)

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Some of the recent Paranormal State episodes have involved demonic possession, a condition either believed to be myth or fact. Movies like “The Exorcist” dramatically illustrate what can happen during a demonic possession, but also portray the eternal struggle of good vs. evil in such a way that some people cannot believe it to be an actual real occurrence.

Although exorcisms seem to be so far removed from ordinary life, I think that people would be surprised at the commonality of the event. It would not take much research to find a priest in your area that either can or has performed an exorcism. I met a local priest who, when asked, admitted to being present at an exorcism, but other than saying he strongly believed in good and evil and demonic possession, he was unwilling to discuss his experience. He said it was frightening.

Exorcisms like the one shown in the “We are Six” episode of Paranormal State show that truly removing a demon is difficult work. The movie “The Exorcism of Emily Rose” shows that a demonic possession does not always have a remedy and the final result can be tragic to the host. The real story of Annaliese Michel, whom the movie is based on, is even more disturbing than the film portrayal.

According to reports from the actual case, Annaliese was possessed by several demons including Lucifer, Judas Iscariot, Nero, Cain, Hitler, and Fleischmann, a disgraced Frankish Priest from the 16th century. Although four people were convicted of negligent homicide in the case, some of Annaliese’s injuries included the ligaments in her knees rupturing due to the 600 genuflections that she performed obsessively during each exorcism session. A genuflection is an act of reverence consisting of falling onto one or both knees (called a "double genuflection.” She was exorcised 67 times in 10 months.

Whether you believe she was really possessed or truly a victim of human negligence, the case is significant due to the amount of photography and audio evidence. Check out more photos and evidence from the case at chasing the frog.com
Be sure to check out the audio of her speaking in tongues here it is SUPER creepy.

So, do you believe in demonic possession?

The First Ghosthunt? The Drummer of Tedworth Case

You can barely swing a dead cat these days (not that I advocate that,) without hitting a ghost hunter, but paranormal researchers go back in history well before our more “enlightened” time.

Perhaps the first recorded ghost hunter and paranormal researcher’s exploits were published in 1668 under the title Sadducismus Triumphatus. In it, Joseph Glanvill, a clergyman, describes poltergeist activity related to a drum confiscated from a musician during a legal case. The plaintiff in the case received the drum as part of his settlement (or to punish the drummer) and began to report typical poltergeist activity including drumming, moving objects and unexplained noises. Much like the Amityville case of our day, the Drummer of Tedworth case became well publicized amongst citizens of the British Isles.

Glanvill examined the case, and indeed witnessed activity himself. He ruled that the drum was haunted, although others from that time believed the drums owner had used witchcraft to put a curse on the drum so that it would wreck-havoc in the new owners home.

Other investigators cropped up to look at the case and it was later believed this activity was a hoax and that the home owner had people knocking on walls outside while ghost hunters were inside. Of course, they didn't have all the bells and whistles modern day ghost hunters have, so it’s hard to blame them for their possible misdiagnosis.

Real or false, paranormal activity has intrigued and challenged men’s intellect since early days and the fascination continues. Perhaps Glanvill broke ground for all of us fascinated with the mysteries of this world and the next.

Greener Pastures: Pets in Spirit.

Those of us who love our pets know they are as much a part of the family as any human is.  Our constant companions, pals and best buddies, when our pets pass away, or worse yet, if we have to make a humane decision to euthanize, we grieve.

Recently a close friend of mine had to make this type of decision. Her beloved dog of 13 years suffered with arthritis and after three years of helping him to stand, laying awake at night to listen for him should he be pacing in pain at night and taking him about in a wagon when he couldn’t walk his usual routes anymore, she finally made the decision with her family to put him down. 

She and I cried together over this painful decision process, and then afterwards, she was inconsolable. Still unsure as to whether or not she made the right decision, missing her best friend so greatly; I reached out to the other side to see if her pet was all right on the other side and to see if there was anything I could offer to her to help her understand that her pooch was at peace.

As I entered a meditative place I looked for Murdock, her dog, on the other side.  I saw him running, and playing in high grass, as he wasn’t able to do in years past. He was happy, I could see that.  I tried to communicate with him, not in words, but in the pictures and impressions that I communicate with all spirits.    He showed me that he remembered being brought home by my friend when he was a puppy. He remembered someone speaking Spanish.

He also told me that he was with my friend’s stepfather, who had passed away about a year before.  I knew the man’s name, but didn’t really know if he had much interaction with the dog in life, as they didn’t live in the same city.  In my mind I saw Murdock, the dog, running around the stepfather (David) joyfully, playing, really by himself, while David merely held his hands out to him.  Murdock lay down in the grass beside him, and I knew that they were together. 

A few days later I traveled home to visit my friend and share her grief and listen to her stories about Murdock’s last days.  We cried.  As usual I hesitated to tell her my thoughts and impressions about Murdock, as my psychic abilities were not something we really talked about at length within our friendship.  I felt compelled though, so I dove in.

“I have to tell you something…” I said sheepishly and she just smiled slowly, as if she was preparing herself for a revelation.

“I set out to look for Murdock on Monday night, I knew you said you were going to take him to the vet on Monday, but I wasn’t sure if you went through with it, so I looked for him on the other side.  I found him.” 

I then relayed the rest of my impressions, including my images of Murdock and her stepfather together.

“Interesting. As far as the Spanish goes, my friend Maria was with me when I got him. She is Spanish…the thing with David is kind of weird Diane, David wasn’t really close with Murdock…” 

“I know…” I said, I had gotten that impression as well…. “ I am just telling you what I see… but overall, you have to know that Murdock thanks you for what you did for him, and that he is always going to be your Boy…”

We cried, embraced, and I left shortly thereafter.

The next day I got a phone call from my friend.

“ I have to tell you something,” she started, “after you left last night my Mom called, and I told her what you said about Murdock.  I told her what you said about him being with David, (her Mothers second husband.)”

“After I told her what you said about them being together my Mom was really amazed. She said she had been praying for David to find Murdock and be with him…can you believe that??” 

“Wow.”

I guess David, or someone, heard her prayers. 

The reason I am sharing this story is this: I just wanted to remind any of you out there that your pets do have spirit, souls, and energy that passes out of this life and into the next.  Their personalities are not lost when they die, and they do live on as do we all…just in another form.

Do you have a ghost-pet story? Please share it here….

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image:  Some rights reserved by Nena B.

The Morality of New Haunted Attractions: The Villisca Axe Murder House

I recently watched an episode of "The Dead Files" where the investigators checked out the familiar Villisca Axe Murder House in Iowa.  I say Familiar, because this is not the first time this home has been investigated. 

The first time I heard about this haunted home and it's history was when it was investigated by the Ghost Adventures team. They went there on behest of the home owners who grew up there (as I recall) and were truly tormented by their memories of the noises and experiences they had there.  The guys went in respectfully when trying to communicate with the murder victims of this horrendous crime scene.

So, what's the history? Ah, well, if you are unaware, in 1912,  8 people, including children, were killed in their sleep, one by axe, the rest by the back of the axe head. The crime is still unsolved and infamous by its brutality and young victims.

What's changed? Since the Ghost Adventures team investigated, the owners of the home have turned it into a haunted attraction.

What's my beef? I dunno. Is it too soon? Is it because of the young victims? Is it because of the blood dripping font on the sign out in front of the house that disrupts my calm?

My question to you.... Is it ethical, moral even, to turn a crime scene like this into a tourist attraction?

How is it different than the Lizzie Bordon House, you might ask... Well, in my opinion, it is because it doesn't involve children first of all.
If it was presented in a different way, would I feel better about it?  I don't know. 

here's the official site:  http://www.villiscaiowa.com/

What do you think?

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Some rights reserved by Jennifer Kirkland

The Powerful Energy of Anger: The Opera Man

Sometimes its not always disembodied spirits that can haunt, or create drama in the psychic field. As an Empath, I could also pick up strong emotions in others, and feel the echoes of past trauma or emotionally charged exchanges in homes and around objects.

People who have very strong emotions are at times able to project those thoughts out into the universe to be picked up by the Empath. My experience with the “Opera Man” was one of these times when a person still physically on this earth was able to connect with me in a psychic – and negative way.

A group of friends and I went to visit a dear friend in another state. We were all looking forward to the getaway, having felt burnt out in our jobs, and in our personal lives as well. We were at a fork in the road of our lives, and didn’t even know it. All of us, at various stages in our careers, in various degrees of involvement in unhealthy relationships, we were taking a break together to further develop our friendships and trust in each other.

Lily was fairly new to our “group” having only worked with us all for about a year, and enjoying our monthly “diner’s nights” whenever she could. She seemed like a confident professional, with the soul of an injured bird. We could all tell Lily had had a rough life, although we weren’t sure of the details. She remained somewhat skittish, both reaching out for our friendship, and holding back from hurt she must have experienced before. Her coming with us on this trip was a huge step in trust and friendship, and we all wanted to make sure she had good times and many smiles while we were away.

After a short plane trip, and drive to our final destination, we all sat back and relaxed and caught up with our old friend. As usual, Lily mostly listened and absorbed, offering advice and information only when drawn out by one of the others.

As we chatted, my psychic journey was discussed. The group was split. Two friends believed and wanted to hear more as the weekend went on, the other two, Lily included, were more skeptical and uncertain as to what they believed I was really experiencing and feeling.

Finally, as the night grew old, we went to sleep in two rooms, Lily and Carol, the other skeptic in the living room, Myself, Mary and Kay in the bedroom. As I laid my head down and adjusted myself on the floor, I began to hear music.

“Do you guys here that?” I asked my roommates in the small bedroom.
“ Hear what?” Kay replied.
“ I hear opera music? You don’t hear the opera music?”
Kay laughed as Mary laid her head against the floor, trying to determine the origin of the noise. “ I don’t hear anything.” She declared.

As quickly as the words left her lips, the music I heard grew louder and I felt a weight pressing down upon me. “I think there is something wrong” I panted out, as I felt a pressure, a presence on me, trying to get inside.

Suddenly I felt chaos. I felt pressure, heard the music and felt a strong angry energy around me and on top of me. I felt as though I was being punished, or abused because I had done something wrong.

“What should we do?” Kay shouted.
“Help me, help me…” I stuttered as I madly began to practice the things I was taught about protection and the power of the white light.

Having just discussed these things with my friends, Kay and Mary immediately joined me in creating a dome of white light around us. Eventually the attack ended. I was afraid to sleep, but had asked for greater protection to get me through the night. Exhausted I fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of whispered voices in the living room. Kay was telling Lily and Carol what had happened the night before, about the opera music, and my attack.

Lily listened intently, quietly until Kay finished.

“You know, Michael didn’t want me to come on this trip.” She stated, talking about her live- in boyfriend. “He really didn’t want me to come.”

“He listens to Opera music, sometimes, when he is drunk, when he gets mad…” she continued quietly. “He listens to Opera music when he hits me.” She finally said.
An hour later, the five of us sat quietly, absorbing all the stories of abuse and fear that our new friend had finally felt safe enough to tell us about. She was planning on leaving Michael, but wasn’t sure how, and was afraid of him.

“Do you think that was him, last night, Diane?” Kay asked me later in the kitchen.

“It was him,” I replied, ”He knew she was with us, he must have been angry, and his anger is so powerful it can take form. We have to help her get away.”

Looking back, I am not sure if what I experienced was a form of astral projection (sending ones spirit out while remaining connected with ones body) from Michael, or a very strong Empathic connection, reading Lily’s own memories and fears. Whatever it was, it was powerful, had shape and energy, and made believers out of the women who experienced it that night.

Photo by Energetic Spirit flickr.com