I am sorely tempted to offer this third-hand, "true" ghost story in the form of fiction. I am not feeling well or sharp enough to tackle this. This is a compelling story I think, nonetheless. I am going to "disguise" some facts anyway, so as not to give away locations, etc.
First, I was just watching one of those early Tarzan movies on television. Tarzan rides up astride an elephant to the elephant graveyard. (I think of old ivory, something one friend of mine likes.) Anyway, Tarzan rides up all manly, and Jane rides up, slung in perfect model pose, draped across the head and the trunk of the beast. Marvelous, and Maureen O'Sullivan pulled it off.
The ghost story takes place in a firehouse. Supposedly, somewhere near was a cemetery. I have tried to check this and I can't find any trace of the cemetery in old records. Firemen work shifts of four or five days on site, and several days off. They sleep at the firehouse.
In a certain bedroom of the firehouse, a ghost is present. This ghost is in the form of a girl or young woman in a white hood. One of the firemen, who sleeps in the bed, in the haunted room, sees her at night, even now. When she sits, he feels the bed move. He sees her often. She comes, and sits at the end of his bed. She does not speak from what I understand, nor does she particularly "vex" him with stunts or moans or crying. No rattling of chains is heard--no pleas are made. This white hooded figure simply comes and sits on his bed.
This is not a recurring dream. The fireman is not confused or insane. This ghost comes--whether he is awake or asleep, sits on the bed. The bed moves with her weight. The fireman did not reveal his story to others.
The fireman decided to call a psychic--ghost buster if you will, to rid himself of his guest. The psychic came, assessed the situation as they will, and made these recommendations. I am sorry for giving away such secrets, but I will. The suggestion from the psychic was to put a palm frond from palm Sunday under the haunted bed. This was done.
Next, the fireman was told to put a coin from a certain year in the window--no I don't know the year, to shove a toothpick in the door lock. Ay, so there is the rub... The lock already had a toothpick in it, and the window already had a coin oif a certain year.
The fireman began to ask around. Yes, the other men that sleep in the room have seen this white hooded figure. Now, she still comes, and politely leaves apparently when she is told that there is no time for her. I love this story.
I am no fan of any television show that purports to prove ghosts with cold feelings, the pulling of hair, or infra-red lights. I do believe that people believe they see ghosts. Ghosts are a staple of mysticism throughout the world. Flood stories too, and there are other common themes in religion and mysticism throughout the world. I will not try to convince you. There is no proof of ghosts, or God if you will, or that romantic love is any more than a slightly sick feeling in one's gut. Yet we see ghosts and trust God and love. Who am I to disbelieve such phenomena any more than I can disbelieve the existence of the universe because I don't understand it?
Hope you like this story. Peace.
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