Ghost Stories

Blue Man

Hello, All....I'vebeen lurking in the corners for a while now, and have finallydecided that the corners, although safe, can be dull. I wouldlike to share a story with you, one of the many I have had thefortune (or misfortune, depending on your views) to haveexperienced. Before I begin, however, I want to state that I amutterly fascinated by ghostly phenomena, but am uncontrollablyfrightened by the prospect of having another experience. I'llbegin with my first....

As a very young child (around 3 or 4) in the late 1960s, myfamily lived in a rural Georgia town not far from Atlanta. Myfather is a minister, and was the senior pastor of a small churchin this town. Our home was a one story, brick structure in themiddle of nowhere. A wonderful place for a child, with fields toplay in and trees to climb.

One of my most vivid memories involves what I now describe aspossibly supernatural. I would frequently get out of my bed andclimb into the large, comfortable bed of my parents. My fatherand mother would let me sleep there for a while, and then usherme back into my room for the rest of the night. I remembergetting out of my bed one night to begin this ritual, when I sawa man come through the window. Now, this window was not open, andthe man did not crawl through, he just came through the window. Imust have been stunned, or too young to know better, but I juststood there looking up at this man in my room. I don't recall anyfear. The man said, "Go back to bed". Well, he being agrown-up, I did what he asked. At this point, he sat in a rockingchair and began to slowly rock, and he talked with me until Idrifted to sleep.

This happened more than once. I told my mother about the intruderand called him my "blue friend". To this day, she willlaugh about her reaction to my friend. She seemed to have taken a"yeah, right, that's nice" approach. I even rememberbeing sick one night, and telling the man that I was only goingto the bathroom. He obliged, and I got into my parents bed anyway.Nothing was ever said by him about this incident later.

We only lived in this house for a year before moving to Atlanta.Once we left, the visits stopped. If the story ended here, Iwould recount it as a cute childhood fantasy with more basis inthe dream world than the real one. The rest of the story, I don'tremember, but my mother remembers it very well.....

She tells me of a trip to the Library in Atlanta a while after wemoved. My sister and I would get books, and my mother would readthem with us. Evidently, I picked a book that dealt with Americanwar history. Mom tells me that she tried to explain the differentwars, what they were about, etc. When we came upon a picture ofCivil War soldiers, she said that I pointed to a picture of aConfederate soldier in uniform and, matter of factly, told herthat was what my blue friend was wearing. Dumbfounded, she had merecount my experience to her and was amazed when I compared theuniform items in the picture with the items I remember the manwearing. She says that, as far as she knows, I had never seenthis uniform before. In addition, I had not mentioned the bluefriend since before we moved to Atlanta. Why now if not for thepurpose of telling her about the uniform?

Was this a ghost? Well....there is no telling. There are manyplausible explanations to this occurrence. It could very wellhave been fantasy. I like to think, however, that it was asupernatural experience.

I live in Alabama now, but a year ago, I was driving down I-75from Atlanta, and realized that I was passing the exit whichwould lead me to this town. I considered strongly about takingthat turn and trying to find the house. But, being consumed withthe present, I didn't choose to take that trip. I hope I willnext time.

Thanks for letting me share with you. I hope it was entertaining.I have a few more if you would like to hear them. There was atime in my life when I thought I had some type of ghost magnet onme!

Happy hauntings
John Dantzler