The year was 1962 when my family moved from the country to the big city of Garland, TX. A small house on a short street smack dab in the middle. I was only 11 years old and in the sixth grade. Six of us moved in, but within a year only four were living there. One brother went off to the army and the other married. My closest sibling, a sister, was four years older, in high school, and the prettiest girl on the block. The house became more than a house; it became home. It felt like we had finally arrived home.
One year passes with little things happening, but nothing to say the house was haunted until one night, my sister is out on a date, I am in the bed I share with my sister, in the North bedroom. The head of the bed butts up against the wall by the bathroom – a west wall – a single window on the North wall and on the East wall. Nothing stands in the Northeast corner of the room. The bedroom door is closed and I begin to hear music. Suddenly, the room is no longer a small bedroom, but becomes a huge ballroom filled with ladies dressed in the Southern Belle hoop skirts and the men in their grey uniforms dancing. Just outside the ballroom is a huge staircase that curves up to an open balcony. A couple breaks off from the crowd, walks to the bottom of the staircase, he pulls her close to him and kisses her on the lips. A dark-haired woman stands at the top of the stairs holding a small baby. The couple move to the huge double front door and outside onto a porch. She stands at the top of the steps while the man moves to the bottom where another man in a grey uniform holds a beautiful white horse. The woman waves, the man mounts the horse and rides down the tree lined road away from the house. The image fades, the music stops, and my sister opens the bedroom door just home from her date.
Following the image, things begin happening on a regular basis. Taking a shower, you hear the bathroom door open, see the shadow of a person walk across the room to the commode, hear the lid raise and someone peeing, the commode flushes, the faucet turns on, and then the person walks out of the room. Open the shower curtain, no one is there. Close the shower curtain and the chain of events continue. My mother complains that I’m putting the knives into the knife drawer blade up. I swear I am not, but every morning, the knives are all turned blade up. Cigarettes are found burning on the counter, but all doors are locked and no one in the house smokes. Children are heard playing with another child in the North bedroom, but no adult can see the child. Lights go on and off on their own. My parents come home to a glue-like substance all over the walls and the stove, but all doors are locked. Plants move on their own with no wind blowing. Little things that say something is here, but not what that something is. The East wall of the North bedroom always had music playing in it, old music like the old southern days.
After I married and had two children, my family was temporarily living with my parents in the same house. My husband was asleep in the South bedroom. My mother and I were sitting up in the living room talking. My husband gets up, comes into the living room as white as a sheet, and ask if either of us were in the bedroom. We told him no. He then tells us that he heard something rustling through the papers on the desk then would walk over to the window, rustle the venetian blinds and repeat. Once after the rustle at the desk, my husband jumped up out of bed, turned on the light, and no one was there. He turned the light back off and the rustle at the blinds happened again followed by the rustle at the desk. That night, after my husband left for work, I went to bed and once again saw a vision. A different dark-haired woman running down the same tree lined road toward the man getting on the horse. She was carrying a huge knife which she used to stab the man and the woman.
Not long after this, the neighbor on the East side backed his pickup truck into my parents’ fence. In the process of digging up the fence post, we uncovered a Texas Rangers badge, women’s button up shoes, and a pair of men’s old boots. On the North side of the house under the window was found a pair of baby’s socks with a noose tied around them. The music in the wall intensified. My mother tried to get rid of the socks, shoes, and boots but they would mysteriously reappear out of the trash. Something wanted those items to stay at the house.
A few years later, mom is taking care of me after major surgery. I am sleeping in that same North bedroom with the bed in the same place and the door closed. The door opens and someone looks in staring at me then the door closes. I ask, “Who is there?” No one answers. I get up and go to the room where the family is watching television and asked them if anyone had come to the bedroom. No one had been in the bedroom. The next day, my husband decides to clean up my parents’ yard and shed. He takes the baby socks, ladies shoes, and men’s boots and tosses them on top of the debris in the back of his pickup. I go out the front door to tell him that lunch is ready. As I step out the door, the storm door slams closed on my robe almost pitching me off the porch. My husband is not out front. I go to the back door, step out onto the porch and start to step onto the top step when something grabs my ankle and twist. I fell with a very nasty twisted foot down two steps to the patio. My husband picks me up and carries me into the house. We wrap my foot and he helps me into the dining room to eat. He sits at the head of the table and behind him is a hutch with a large heavy flower vase sitting behind a two-inch ledge on top of the hutch. We see the arrangement raise straight up, move out over the ledge, and come, vase first down toward my husband’s head. We yell, and he moves just in time for the vase to hit him in the back instead of the head.
After we finished our meal, he takes all the debris including the socks, shoes, and boots to the city dump. To our astonishment, the paranormal activity slowed. No more music in the wall, but things would disappear, all one had to do was speak to the air and say, “Bring it back,” and suddenly the item would reappear. Yes, knives still turned blade up overnight, lights still turned on and off on their own, flowers moved without wind, someone used the restroom, and images of people could be seen walking in the house, but no more harmful activity, just pranks. The last time I was there, the ghost took my comb and brush, but brought it back. It especially loved playing tricks on my current husband. I haven’t been back in the house since 2008. I am told the house is still haunted. The house behind our house had several suicides, two while I lived there. So, do I believe in ghost? That answer is a definite YES! Do I believe that ghost can be hostile? Absolutely I believe they can be hostile. If you see things, hear things, smell things, feel things, or lose things maybe, just maybe it is a ghost.