In honor of the upcoming Ghost Walk in Olde Towne Portsmouth, next week I thought I would share one of the stories from the walk.
Now, just because it happens to be about me is just one big coincidence really. ;) But this is a true ghost story, one of many on our ghost walk. Local folk should stop by and check us out, info is located at:
and as always feel free to stop by
http://www.osenentertainment.com as we added new things to the shop!
The following story, was written by me as it happened.
The town of Portsmouth, Virginia, and more importantly it’s historic district known affectionately and appropriately enough as Olde Towne hosts a number of ’ghost stories’ and ’haunted houses.’ A by product of a long history that encompasses the humble beginnings of our nation, through the dark times of the civil war and straight through to present day.
The town itself, exists in a small little time bubble. As the world around it grows and changes with the modern eras, the old Victorian houses remain strong, vibrant, as if they were just built yesterday. However the walls hold hundreds of years of history, stories, and lives. But people would be careful not to cast dispersions on some of these tales as the residents of the town can tell you, those that have passed onto the other side still walk the halls of many of residences here.
This is one of such stories.
This story begins as most do, simply enough. A single mother, with her only child. As a first time mother, she was ever so cautious taking care of the little child in the big Victorian apartment. Like most, sleeping when the child did, keeping to his schedule.
As she laid the child down for his nap, she carefully took all the toys from the crib, so no harm could befall him as he slept, and went off to try to get some rest before she was needed again. When she awoke she came into the bedroom to check on her tiny infant, but to her surprise she found the crib full of toys, the baby quietly smiling up at her, as if all was right and normal.
Thinking herself crazy, possibly over tired she goes to prepare the baby’s bottle as she cleans the house along the way. Could she have imagined taking the toys from the crib? Could she have been that exhausted?
As the days and months progress, the child grows but so do the strange occurrences in the household. A strange blue light often written off as a passing headlight, despite hearing no cars on the quiet street below, toys always placed back in the crib despite knowing she removed them before putting the baby down…
Knowing that the child, who barely had motor control could not climb down and retrieve them himself. As the child grew, and learned to speak, she finally asked him, who kept putting the toys back in the crib?
“The mask brought them to me.” The child replied very matter-of-factly.
She dismissed the response as the imaginings of a toddler and thought herself foolish for even asking, if she couldn’t understand what was going on how could a child? That night, as the child slept and the mother sat in the living room watching tv and relaxing, then as the clock struck 11pm, she saw the faint blue light from the corner of her eye, when she turned to watch it she saw something more…
More specifically, the figure of a woman, long flowing Victorian black dress, a hushed ruffling of the fabric heard as she walked across the hall, her cameo necklace, her hair rolled tight in a bun, and her face; a deathly pale, almost as if she were wearing a mask.
The mother watched this specter walk across the apartment almost like she was gliding, She gazed on as the phantom walked a very specific path before disappearing into the back wall, which later she found had been the path to the servants staircase when the apartment she lived in had been a single family dwelling at the turn of the 20th century.
After that point, like clock work, every evening at 7 o’clock and 11 o’clock in the evening the woman appeared, walking in the same path, never deviating always with a specific mission. While shocking, the ghost did not appear to hurt anyone, and if anything was a comfort to her child not a terror so the mother decided to live and let live, after all this was her home as well after all.
Living with a ghost was quite interesting, Her child seemed at times to communicate with seemingly nothing, was he communicating with the ghost or was it just an imaginary friend? As often will happen with children, toys will get misplaced. Action figure weapons, puzzle pieces, she’d watch the child hold an item up and say what was lost and then go back to playing as if nothing happened.
The next morning, as if by magic, the item would be resting on the side table next to the couch. It would seem that their ghostly roommate was as aware of their presence, as much they were of her. Often times others would see the woman, standing in the window looking out at the street.
Neighbors would wave, thinking it was the mother, yet receive nothing but a silent gaze. Over the years, the apartment would have visitors, the boy’s paternal grandparents visiting from Georgia on one instance had a unique encounter with the mysterious woman.
One day his grandfather saw what he thought to be his daughter-in-law standing with her back to him, her hair in a bun, so he thought he would give her a scare, sneaking up to goose her. As he approached he saw his hands go right through the figure of the woman, she turned, faced him and disappeared.
When the half-second shock wore off the old man took off like a jack rabbit, locked himself in the bedroom for the remainder of the visit, and every trip after that his grandparents elected to stay at a hotel upon future journeys.
Although, not all stories from this house are as light as this. On one occasion, the mother was awoken to the sound of a woman weeping, saying her child’s name over and over again. “Danny, oh no, Danny” the voice said.
Awoken in a start, her mind raced with all the possible problems. Was there an accident? Did her child fall out of bed? Possibly hurt himself playing in the middle of the night? As ran to his bedroom she saw him sleeping soundly unhurt, undisturbed…
She walked the apartment, looking for the sound of the weeping and finding no one. No one she could see at any rate. She looked at the clock, noticing it was well after 11pm she knew she would probably not see anyone, and tried her best to go back to bed.
The next morning her estranged husband, the boy’s father, came to visit for an outing. They piled into the car and went for a drive. In the height of the early 80’s car seats were not a mandatory thing, so her son sat in his mother’s lap happily watching the world pass by the passenger side window.
In moments, tragedy struck. Their car was hit by a drunken driver who ran a stop sign, the world went black, the mother awoke to the sound of paramedics cutting into metal, she looked to her lap and saw a pool of blood. In shock she tried to get up but found herself trapped, a metal rebar had been impaled through her leg.
As she was cut free she miraculously started walking past all the medical crew and emergency workers trying to find her son. The EMT’s tried unsuccessfully to get the woman to sit and receive treatment. “My son, where is my son?” she cried.
The doctors reassured her everything was fine, and then she heard her child cry. She ran to the ambulance, to find her child in one piece, with only a small scar on the left side of his head.
“Lady, you must have had a guardian angel looking after you.” The EMT worker said. “No one should have survived that crash.”
Did they? Did some how this mysterious ghostly woman foresee the accident, and protect the little boy she had grown to love? The family certainly thinks so, and to this day at 7 and 11pm when you look up into the second floor of the building you can see the figure of a woman, looking out over the street, protecting her house and anyone who shares it with her.