I was forwarded a link to a Canadian website in which writer David Goss shares some personal ghost stories that he’s experienced and a story that was sent to him.
I always enjoy personal ghost stories, something about them make them more terrifying. Read some of the personal accounts that were submitted to GhostTheory through our “Submitted Stories” section.
Those reposing on the benches in Saint John’s King’s Square have not been, as far as I know, accosted by any ghosts. It’s a wonder for within on the east boundary of the park, there have been several reports of ghosts over the years.
One of two young ladies visiting from Boston fainted in the Old Burial Ground in the late 1800s when it looked more like a graveyard than parkland. The young girl who passed out was revived with smelling salts, and claimed she seen a ghostly figure hovering near the Putnam tomb. The other girl said she hadn’t seen a thing. Such is the way with ghosts.
Who can say for sure what the girl saw?
Not far from the Burial Ground there was a house on Leinster Street that I was once called to visit, as they claimed to have ghosts. They thought the ghost was a young girl who had been murdered in the house. They based this idea on the fact that what they thought was a girl’s face showed up on the firewall of the basement furnace. There was certainly some sort of unusual markings on the brick, but I wasn’t convinced it was a face. Others, however, were sure of the matter. They lived there. I didn’t. Why should I question what they believed they experienced?
On the corner of Duke and Sydney stands the palatial home of the White family, which became the Parker House Inn in the 80s. Guests at the inn were sometimes awakened by the turning of the spinning wheel on the second floor. Some blamed it on vibrations from the passing traffic … but at 3 a.m. in the morning? Though not everyone saw a ghost behind the spinning, the owners were sure that a ghostly lady was the reason for the middle of the night turning of the wheel. I didn’t sleep there, I wasn’t there at 3 a.m. Why should I doubt the opinion of those that were?
Recently, I learned of another ghost in the area when George Davidson shared a story with me. As he spun the tale, I was frantically writing it down. I kept asking him to slow down and he said, “Dave, why don’t I e-mail you the story.” And so he did, and here it is almost as he sent it to me. I have purposely left out the exact location, so it could be any one of the many apartments overlooking King’s Square.
“Date: June, 1970. Saturday night about 10:00 P.M.
Location: Sydney Street near to the old Moon Palace on King’s Square. The 1st floor was a hair salon, the 2nd floor was an apartment rented by friends, and the 3rd floor was my girlfriend’s apartment.
Four of us, me, my girlfriend, my room mate and his girlfriend were in the living room watching television when we heard loud thumping and scratching noises from the apartment below us.
At first we didn’t think too much of it because the people below had two dogs, but then we were told that they went away for the weekend and took the dogs with them.
The noises continued so we went down the stairs and knocked on the door to see if they had came home. There was no answer so we went back to the apartment.
By this time we were getting a little apprehensive and after talking a bit, we heard someone walking up the stairs.
From where we sat we could not see the front door or into the kitchen and we just sat there because we thought that one of our friends had come to visit.
What we heard was footsteps come up the stairs, the front door open and close and footsteps continue on into the kitchen, the back door open and close and then nothing.
We waited a moment to see if they were coming back and then went into the kitchen and found the back door locked and hooked from the inside!
Well, we started freaking out because no one could have done that.
We were really scared and turned on every light and sat on the couch together when one of the large prints on the wall just dropped to the floor.
The girls were screaming and we all went in one bedroom and got on the bed together and stayed there for awhile when the bedroom door just fell off and wedged over against the wall.
That was the last event of the evening. Needless to say we never slept the rest of the night and when my buddy and I went home the next day I was glad to get out of there.
The girls talked to someone the next day who told them two men had been hanged there years before.
The girls moved out soon after and that is my first and hopefully last encounter with what is no doubt in my mind a ghost!”
And in my mind too, George. You were there, I wasn’t. You had the experience, I didn’t.
It was real to you”¦so it is real to me!
If you have had an experience like any of those described today and want to share it, contact email@example.com.
Full source: Here NB