Ghost Stories

Gate Stranger

Speaking of strangefaces appearing in windows...

When I was very small, I was always coming in contact withstrange spirits and entities (I always called them ghosts,although I am not convinced in my later years that they werenecessarily manifestations of those passed on...). The mostmemorable of these encounters occured when I was four:

My two sisters, my brother, and I were the lucky kids on theblock who had their very own trampoline in their very ownbackyard. This treasured possession frequently made our house apopular destination for the local younger set, especially onsunny afternoons after school. My parents were pretty cool aboutletting anyone we liked come over and "jump"; theydidn't even have to be home. The only requirement was that eachchild had to have a note from their mom or dad saying that it wasokay for them to use the trampoline and that they knew that theirchild was at our house.

What does this have to do with a.f.g-s, you say? Well, oneafternoon after preschool I was playing in the sandbox at theside of our house. This sandbox was edged on one side by ourhouse, two sides by the yard, and one side by the white woodenfence that separated the front and back yards. As I played, Ibecame aware of someone approaching the gate. I looked up,expecting one of the neighborhood kids come to play, and foundmyself staring up at a shadowy figure the size of a man. Thisfigure had no face; rather, it had contours and shadows. Fromwhere I sat, it did appear to have arms and legs like a person,but to be honest, I was more entrance with the (lack of) face. Istared at the figure and (I guess) it stared at me.

"If you want to jump on the trampoline, you need a note fromyour mom," I said. There was no response. "Do you havea note from your mom?"

I asked the figure this question several times, to no avail. Notwanting to be distracted from my oh so important sandplay formuch longer by someone who did not want to follow the rules aboutusing the trampoline, I began to turn back to my shovel andbucket.

"Let me in," the figure said (I say "said",but I couldn't tell you to this day if it actually spoke, or if Ijust heard the words in my head. Heck, I was four. I heard wordsand I assumed that they came from someone's mouth...).

This drew my attention back to the figure, but my problem with itremained. "Do you have a note from your mom? I can't let youin without a note from your mom..."

"Let me in."

This hopelessly exciting dialogue continued for several minutesuntil my childlike impatience took over and I told the figure togo home and get a note or just go away. At that moment, Irealized that the figure was bending over the gate, its armsrising up and reaching out to me.

"Let....Me....In...." it said with much more vigor. Atthis moment, something in my head told me that I was not to allowthis "man" to touch me. I scooted back in the sand,glaring at the face of the figure.

"Go back!" I screamed. "Go back!"

When my sister came bursting out of the kitchen door to see who Iwas screaming at, she found me staring intently at the gate. Whenshe asked me what was going on, I told her that there has been astranger at the gate, that he wanted in, but I knew he was black(honest, I said 'black', not 'bad' or 'weird' or some other morenormal description for a four year old to use). Kel looked allover the front yard and around the house and said she didn't seeanyone. I think she just thought I was trying to get attention.

I never saw the stranger at the gate again, although as ateenager I had someone in a smoky old coffee shop tell me thatthey knew I had been visited by entities from "beyond"and that one of their impression had something to do with sand.Since I had never told this story to anyone but my sister at thetime, this startled me, but convinced me all the more that thiswoman knew what she was talking about.

It's been a long post, but I wanted to add a few more tidbits tosome of the current threads...

First, for more great stories about critters like the JerseyDevil, check out a book called "Stranger Than Science".I read it when I was young (although I believe the book waswritten for adults), and was simply intrigued at its collectionof true but unexplainable stories from around the world. Mypersonal favorite was about an "invisible vampire"whose existance was demonstrated by biting a person repeatedlywhile they were locked in a jail cell while the guards watchedthe wounds simply appear on the victims body... creepy!

Second, there is a marvelous tour company in New Orleans calledMagic Tours that does very inexpensive, absolutely marvelousghost, haunting, vampire, and voodoo tours. The owner's name isRichard, and he is entertaining beyond description. I highlyrecommend these tours; you can find out about them at any hotelin the Big Easy.