My first theory is that they are two of the young woman’s spirit guides or guardians, who appear to her in non-
threatening ways in an attempt to make her feel safe while her husband is gone. This theory makes sense for the old woman in the rocking chair, because this spirit does acknowledge my friend by smiling at her. I’m not real sure this theory fits for the young man, who doesn’t really make any attempt to communicate, but does make sure he’s seen.
The second theory would be that they are displaced, and perhaps appear to my friend when her husband is out of town to let her know they are there. The young man in the leather jacket could have died in an accident on the old highway that was used before the current freeway was built; perhaps he is tied to the dirt from the road which was removed and used to build our subdivision. The older woman could have lived and died in a house that was destroyed when the freeway was constructed.
The fact that these spirits only appear when my friend’s husband is out of town leads me to believe that the first theory is the correct line of thought in this mysterious, periodical haunting.
The House Two Doors Down
The house two doors down from this young couple is occupied by a totally different kind of ghost, who doesn’t appear to shy away from making her presence known. She is also an intelligent spirit, which means that she goes out of her way to communicate with, and/or acknowledge the people living in the house.
It’s believed that this phantom woman is the former owner of the house and just decided not to leave—and who can blame her? The house sits right on Lake St. Clair with a stupendous view and all the creature comforts—even if you’re a ghost. The original house was built in the 1930s and was occupied by a woman and her husband. The husband passed away and then a few years later the woman died. Our friends bought the house some time ago and completely remodeled the house, adding a second floor and expanding the original footprint of the house.
The first time the current owners saw their spectral houseguest was when she floated down the hallway, from the kitchen to the front door. The phantom had dark long hair and was dressed in a white nightgown; she paused long enough to acknowledge their presence before continuing upon her intended path. While this event did shake them up a bit, at that time they weren’t big believers in the paranormal, but they are now.
The second time they saw her was when they were entertaining friends, and while they and their guests were talking in the large kitchen, the ghostly woman made an appearance in the middle of it all, before fading away. Needless to say, the homeowners were as shocked as the guests; all of them made an excuse to leave the party and made a rather hasty retreat.
One of the most interesting encounters with this phantom occurred when the couple was in bed sleeping. The man woke up and saw someone sitting on the foot of the bed. Thinking it was his wife, he sat up in bed and asked if everything was okay. That’s when he realized his wife was still lying next to him, sound asleep!
He sat in shocked silence, watching the woman who sat quietly at the end of the bed until she turned around, smiled at him, and then got up and “walked” out of the bedroom and disappeared down the stairs. While he was tempted to follow their spectral guest, he thought it best to just stay put, although any further thoughts of sleep quickly vanished.
When this couple found out I was a paranormal investigator and a medium, they invited us over for dinner one night and brought up the topic of their ghost over appetizers.
Of course, no paranormal investigator worth their salt could pass up such an opportunity, so I began to roam around the house in search of their mystifying ghost. I found her in the den. I couldn’t see her, but I could definitely pick up her energy.
“Hello,” I greeted her.
It was then she allowed me to “see” her, yet she remained invisible to my friend.
“Who are you?” I asked telepathically.
“I used to live here. My husband and I built this home in 1936. I love it here so much,” she explained.
“I understand,” I told her.
“I try to stay out of the family’s way, but sometimes I just get lonely and want them to know I’m still here. I mean them no harm and like them very much. I wish they’d talk to me more,” she said wistfully.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised. “Have you crossed over, or do you need help?”
“No, I’ve crossed over. I just choose to come back from time to time. I enjoy the activity of the family and the children. Please don’t make me leave,” she pleaded.
“I won’t. You’re fine. I’ll explain things to the family,” I said.
“Thank you.” She smiled at me and I felt her energy leave the space.
I explained to the family what the woman had told me, and they seemed relieved to find out it was the previous owner. They also said they had no problem with the woman coming back to visit from time to time. In fact, they seemed to enjoy the thought.
This type of spirit is not uncommon. When they die, many people choose to return to a place they loved when they were alive, even though they’ve crossed over.
My Shadow Man
When we purchased this house seven years ago, everything seemed fine at first. We were busy unpacking and getting everything settled. Quite honestly, I never really noticed anything “off” about the house and was perfectly content.
Then one night after we’d lived there less than six months, as I was watching television, I noticed two of my cats staring intently at the staircase that sits back and to the right of the couch. I turned to look at what they saw and noticed the shadow of a man walking slowly down the stairs. It was just an outline, but I could distinctly make out the shape of a rather large man, and I could see his shadowy, beefy fingers wrapped around the stair rail as he descended the staircase.
“What the hell?” I twisted my body to get a better look at the being.
As soon as I spoke, the shadow man darted down the stairs at lightning speed and disappeared. I leaped off the couch and moved quickly across the room to find out where the shadow man went, but there wasn’t a trace of him to be found. I couldn’t even feel any residual energy from my unexpected houseguest.
My thirty years as a paranormal investigator taught me that shadow people are benign creatures who make no attempt to communicate with the living. Many people feel that shadow people are a form of “watchers,” who merely observe the living carry out their day-to-day activities.
However, there are also those who believe that shadow people are a form of demon, because there have been reports of shadow people with red eyes. I haven’t personally encountered such a creature, but I have no doubt they exist due to the number of reports I’ve read.
I can only speak from my own personal experience with these entities, and have always found them to be shy creatures who will disappear as quickly as possible when they are spotted by the living.
My shadow person only appears from time to time and always in the same place, coming up or going down the stairs to the second floor of my home. Sometimes, he is quickly followed by a woman wearing a floor-length, white dress with a train. While I’ve only caught glimpses of the woman, I’ve seen the edge of her train cascade through the spindles of the staircase on several occasions.
Who she is and why she’s here remains a mystery. I can’t even say for sure whether or not she’s attached in some way to the shadow man, but I highly doubt it. Shadow people don’t make attachments, as far as I know, to other ghosts or spirits.
This woman isn’t around long enough for me to even begin to make contact with her, nor does she make any attempt to interact with me, and I’m not even sure she’s aware of my presence.
It could be that this mysterious woman is simply residual energy and not really a ghost at all.
Morrow Road
No book of ghost stories by a Michigan author is complete with
out the inclusion of the alleged Morrow Road haunting. The legend of Morrow Road is one of the most infamous tales in the world of ghost hunting, and takes place about an hour from where I live.
The story goes that a mother ran outside in the middle of the night to find her young son, who’d somehow gotten out of the house. How she and her son died is up for speculation, but the most popular theory is that because it was winter, the mother and son froze to death. The time period when this occurred is not recorded in history, and research has not divulged whether or not this event actually happened, or whether it’s simply local legend.
The type of paranormal activity that allegedly occurs on Morrow Road varies. Many people claim that when you are on a certain bridge on the road, you will see a woman in a blood soaked nightgown carrying her dead child.
Others have claimed that an unexplainable green light charges them while on the road; still others claim to hear a baby crying at night, or have the feeling that someone is watching them from the woods. Still others have reported seeing ghostly, dark apparitions walking down the street, but they disappear once discovered.
When people found out I’m a paranormal investigator, they immediately asked me if I’ve been to Morrow Road, which is how I found out about this place to begin with. So, I began digging a little deeper and decided to talk to some of the older residents who’d been in this area their entire lives.
When you talk to some of the locals, they will tell you that the story was made up in the 1950s to keep teenagers from going to the desolate road. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I were a teenager and I heard that story, it would be the first place I’d head.
I’ve investigated Morrow Road several times at different hours and during different seasons of the year, but not once have I had anything even remotely paranormal happen. This doesn’t mean the legend isn’t true, it just means nothing happened when I was there.
Investigation of county records during the time this incident allegedly took place did turn up several incidences of mothers and children dying in the area, however the locations of their deaths were unclear in the documents I’ve found. It’s important to point out that typhoid fever, scarlet fever, and other diseases were running rampant through the area at the time, as well.
So the question really is: is Morrow Road haunted? That’s an impossible question to answer. But, I believe the urban legend of Morrow Road will live on for many years to come.
First House on the Right
Out in the middle of nowhere, in southeastern Michigan, stands a deserted house that used to belong to a woman of considerable age. She didn’t have much family, and the family she did have lived out of state.
I accidentally stumbled upon the property while driving down an unfamiliar road one fall afternoon, while out exploring the new area we’d just moved into. I still can’t say for sure what made me look to my right as I passed the house, but when I saw it, I knew I had to turn around and explore this piece of property—there was just something about the energy emitting from the place that caught my attention.
I turned around on the dirt road, and pulled into the beaten-down tire path that served as a driveway. As I walked around the house, I felt that something didn’t want me around there or inside the home, which, of course, made me even more curious. Not having enough time to explore further, I marked the house on my GPS and continued my trek into town to meet a friend for breakfast.
After ordering, I asked my friend about the house I’d spotted on the way. She said that Maggie Johnson, the woman who owned the home, died about a year ago. The family just abandoned the house and all of Maggie’s personal belongings. Since her death, some of the townsfolk have reported some strange things going on at the property.
Some people have reported walking around the house, and when they looked into one of the living room windows, they noticed a white mist in the shape of a partial body. They could make out the arms and the outline of the head. They also reported that the white mist appeared to float across the living room before disappearing entirely.
I couldn’t get the house out of my head all day, and I knew that any attempts at sleep would be futile until I satisfied my curiosity. That night, I slipped out of my mom’s house and drove to Maggie Johnson’s house.
Armed only with a flashlight, since I hadn’t planned on ghost hunting while up north, I cautiously made my way through the tall grass and weeds that surrounded the house.
I paused by the large living room window, and as I went to peek inside, something pushed me hard away from the house, causing me to fall to the ground. I leaped to my feet and shined my flashlight in all directions, but no one or nothing was in sight. In addition, if someone had been there, I would have heard them walking through the tall grass and dead, crunchy leaves that littered the area from the tall trees surrounding the property.
As much as I wanted to investigate this event further, I didn’t want to trespass into the house, and I was completely alone in the middle of the night on an all-but-deserted street, where the houses are miles apart. Furthermore, whatever pushed me obviously didn’t want me there, and I interpreted the mild attack as a warning that I should leave.
I made my way to my car and looked back at the house. In the upstairs window, I saw an eerie light that appeared to move around the room. I knew there was no one in the house and had no explanation for the light. The area around the house is quite deserted for miles and there are no streetlights. The night I was there was a cloudy night, with no moon.
On several occasions while at the property, I’ve felt ice-cold breezes push against me when I was right next to the house. It appears that Maggie Johnson is still living in the house, long after her death, and doesn’t want anyone to disturb her or her property.
Several times since that night I’ve visited the home, but, not wanting to upset whatever spirit is there, I haven’t made any attempt to enter the space.
The house has fallen into a horrible state of disrepair and someone has boarded up the windows on the first floor, which has done little to deter intruders who have decimated the place.
The Jenkins House
On the outskirts of a small harbor town, nestled on the shores of Lake St. Clair in southeastern Michigan, sits a pre–Civil War, two-story farmhouse. There’s nothing really unusual about the appearance of the white clapboard house from the outside … unless you count the old woman sitting in the front window. Funny thing about that woman—she died more than fifty years ago.
The many owners of the property, most of whom are descendants of Matthew Jenkins, the original owner of the home, have observed many paranormal events.
One woman remembers living in the house as a child, when one night she and her sister went downstairs to get a drink of water. As they passed by one of the parlors, they saw a soft light emanating from the room.
When they peered into the parlor, they were shocked to see a large table sitting in the middle of the room, which shouldn’t have been there, as they didn’t even own a table like that. What was even more astonishing is that a dead body was lying on the table. The room was filled with a lot of people dressed in black clothing, in a fashion that was common during the Victorian era.
Rooted to the floor by fear, they stood transfixed by the scene before them. Then they noticed that all the activity in the room had ceased, and the phantom apparitions were staring at them! Not wanting to see what was going to happen next, they raced up to their bedrooms. The next morning, everything was back to normal in the “funeral” parlor.
The same girls also reported seeing a gorgeous young blond woman standing in their bedroom one night. The ghost was holding a candle and motioned for the girls to follow her, but they were too scared to do so. They turned on a light and the vision disappeared.
Unable to resist such tempting tales of paranormal activity, a friend of mine we’ll call Monica and I decided to conduct our ow
n investigation into the paranormal activity at this house.
After getting permission from the current owner, a man from out of town, to enter the property, we spent considerable time exploring the house’s many rooms. At this time the house was vacant, because the current owner was in the process of renovating it. Over time, the house had fallen into a state of great disrepair.
As we walked through the house, we couldn’t help but feel we were being watched by someone or something unseen. When we were on the second-floor hallway, I heard Monica scream! When I turned around, Monica was gone and there was a gaping hole in the floor!
“Monica, where are you? Are you okay?” I yelled frantically.
“I’m down here. I’m fine!” she said.
“Where’s here?” I asked.
“I don’t know!” Monica replied.
“Hang tight. I’ll find you.” I scrambled down the stairs and looked around the house, but I couldn’t find Monica.
“Bang on a wall,” I yelled.
Monica start banging and I traced the noise to the large closet under the stairs that led to the second floor. I flung open the door; the closet was empty, but I could hear Monica close by.
I started banging on the walls of the closet, and the side wall, which I quickly discovered was a hidden panel door. Finally it yielded and swung open—it was on hinges! Monica came scrambling up two stairs to freedom.
We then returned to the small room she’d fallen into, a room of approximately ten feet by fifteen feet. The walls were constructed of fieldstone, and were held in place by mortar or some other type of material. On the sand floor sat benches that went around almost the entire room. We’d heard that the Jenkins house might have been on the Underground Railroad, and now we were pretty sure we had proof. We asked the remaining family members about the hidden room, but they denied any knowledge of it.
We spent a couple of days doing research on the house and came to the conclusion that the woman many people reported seeing in the front window was the mother of one of the former owners. Apparently, she died in the exact room the apparition appears and was known, when alive, to sit in front of the window for hours.
Stalking Shadows Page 7