Friday, October 29, 2004

Who Goes There? ....

 

 

Being in the very heart of Alabama, you can bet there are plenty of Civil War battlegrounds and cemeteries. Many soldiers are in unmarked graves, scattered about. On the very land in which I live, legend is, was a battlefield. And across the street from my neighborhood, there is a small cemetery and historical landmark where Civil War soldiers were laid to rest.

But…are they really, resting?

The house that you see in the photo up there is a house that just this time last year, I begged my husband to buy. It’s less than 2 miles from here. To say it was a handyman’s special would be an understatement. The previous owners had already started remodeling projects and just left it, along with all of their material to complete what they’d started. It is not a very old house. It was built in 1946. The kind of old house I’ve always dreamed of, is turn of the century-old. That dream is far from practical and will be one of those dreams to never come true. Still, I almost had the hubs convinced on this one because along with the house, was 6 beautiful acres. The price was a steal. I went to the house to take pictures, and that was the day I changed my mind. Have you ever felt like you were not alone? That is how I felt. I know it sounds silly, I’ll admit that I scare easily, but my imagination did not bring this fear on. I was so happy that day, no fear or suspicions in my mind at all. There were cold spots in the house, which I found weird, considering the sun was shining bright through out the house. My skin crawled with goose bumps in one room. The one thing I’ve learned, as I get older, is to follow my gut feeling. There was a bad energy in this house. I felt it.  I don’t know the history of it, but I didn’t like it. So - that was the end of that. Someone did buy that house; I would drive by on occasion to see the progress they were making in their remodeling. The people abruptly moved, I guess. I haven’t seen any activity there in a while now. So - I don’t know. Maybe the renovation was going to be too expensive. Yet, when I was considering buying the house, my cousin inspected it and he said it had a solid foundation, and overall was in good shape. The only repairs needed were cosmetic. So, who knows? Most likely, the “house” wasn’t even haunted. Could have been the property. Which, by the way, is adjacent to the property we live on now. And, might I add, we’ve had our share of weird happenings while living here.

To be continued…

Note: I stand corrected. Mama informed me the house was built in 1940. Not 1946.  :)

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

A photo and short story entry

The following articles and stories featured this week [modem permitting] are based on my personal beliefs. The stories I will write are from my own personal experiences, or those of family members and friends.

Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? I very much believe in ‘spirits.‘ Someone once told me the difference between ghosts and spirits, but to be honest, I can’t remember the details. I believe there are human spirits and nonhuman spirits. I believe human spirits are the spirits of people who have passed on, or are on the brink of passing over to the other side. I believe that nonhuman spirits are the spirits of good and evil. I believe the good spirits that walk this earth are heavenly spirits. Angels.

I believe that evil spirits also walk among us. Demonic spirits. I believe there is a heaven and a hell.

That is as deep as I am going to get into my personal beliefs at this time

The story I am about to tell is not a ghost story. It is simply, a true story. Told by two of my aunts, who I believe with all of my heart.

This is a story about my aunt, Willow Dean. Dean was quite a surprise to the family, as my grandparents thought their childrearing days were all behind them. Their four daughters were practically grown when Dean came along. She was such a pleasant surprise. Loved by all and spoiled by her older sisters who showered her with things they were not able to have when they were little girls. Barbie dolls were introduced when Dean was a very little girl. Every week, her sisters would cash their hard-earned paychecks from the cotton mill and buy her a new doll or dress. She had beautiful, lacy dresses hanging in her closet. Tap shoes! Oh, how she loved her tap shoes. You could hear her coming a mile away, tapping those black patent leather shoes and singing a favorite tune. You would think that a child that spoiled would be rotten-mean, but everyone says she was an absolute angel and brought joy to everyone’s life. Dean’s life ended too soon when she came down with encephalitis at the age of ten. Papaw said that she woke from her coma and looked at him and smiled. Saying, “Oh, daddy … you should see it. It’s so beautiful there!” Dean peacefully closed her eyes and went to sleep. Never again to awaken. Not only was her family devastated, the entire cotton mill village in which they lived felt the pain of her loss.

Eventually, life must go on and everyone tried tocarry on as best as theycould. My aunts Marie and Christine were on lunch break at the mill one day and went to the bathroom before getting back to work. They were the only ones in the bathroom at the time. Their stalls, side by side. Christine said that she kept hearing a tapping sound that came from the hallway. Then, the tapping got closer to the bathroom. As the sound got closer, she heard humming and singing. It was clearly, Dean’s voice. For the first time since before Dean’s illness, she could hear her voice sing a familiar song they‘d heard her sing a thousand times. Aunt Christine said she held her breath and remained silent as she listened to her tapping and singing fade into the distance until it was quiet again. It was as if she came from the hall, and walked right through the bathroom and exited through the other end. My aunt Christine said that they washed up and walked out of the bathroom and went back to work. She said nothing to Marie because she was still in shock from what had just happened. That night, while walking home, Christine said to Marie, “Today, while we were in the bathroom, I could swear that I heard…” Marie interrupted her, “You heard her too? You heard Dean come into the bathroom, singing?” They were each amazed that the other heard the same thing. One reason being, it proved they were not losing their minds. And another reason being, it confirmed that there really is another side after this life is over. We will see our loved ones again. If we choose to follow the same path they did. Aunt Willow Dean was only ten years old when she passed. Innocence was all she knew. She must be in a better place. My aunts shared this with the rest of the family and everyone was able to let go a little easier and felt a greater peace for Dean.

The above story is not intended to be a ghost story to instill fear. Rather, it is a story of hope and peace. I have a bittersweet smile on my face and a tear in my eye as I type this. Because I believe that my grandmother, who would have been ninety-one years old last Thursday, was with her daughter, Dean, and her other loved ones on that day. Although I miss Mamaw terribly, I know that her spirit is still with us and watches over us from where she is.

The cotton mill has been closed down since about 1979. I took a lot of pictures there over the summer because I know they are tearing it down to build a mall. If any of my relatives or friends from this area reading thiswould like photos, email me and let me know.

Friday, October 22, 2004

Long Time, No Update

Splitting headache as I type this update. Please pardon any typos. It’s been way too long since I’ve updated. I’m terribly sorry about that, but as everyone who knows me, knows by now … My modem is on the blink. I hauled the whole darned thing to my parents and I got disconnected there too. So it’s gotta be the modem. Right?

Oh, well … enough of that.

What else is new? Been dealing with a lot of fatigue this week. Not sure what is going on there.

Field Trip Hell!

Tuesday was Soccer Blast at “Sports Blast“. An indoor soccer field. You might remember our pictures from last year? Our county has Special Olympics soccer games there every fall. Let me tell you, it was anything but a blast! Stephen decided he was going to be the biggest brat in the world on Tuesday. In a way, I can’t say I blame him. This is how it went: The children all had to stand in line forever, just to kick the ball one time. Who’s big idea was this? Are they kidding? Special needs or not, I don’t know a kid in the world who would be happy about that. In all fairness, his dad and I got there late. I was not feeling well and had to make myself go. Maybe they had a blast before we got there. I couldn’t tell you. I felt sorry for Stephen’s aide as she tried to keep him entertained in line. He would try to break free from her and break in line. At 11:00 they had lunch break so the bigger kids could play, and he pitched a good old-fashioned fit and refused to eat. Not only did he refuse to eat a bite of lunch, he screamed at the top of his lungs till his face was as red as a beet. A fireman friend from our town came up and said, “Is Stephen okay? He’s not injured is he?” “Not yet!” his father replied. Eventually, we had to gather his lunch, escort his little butt out to the car and he finally got his mind off of soccer long enough to catch his breath and eat a little. Finally, it was time for the fun and games to begin again. We went into the building, found his teacher and handed him over to her and said, “Here he is. We’re leaving. See ya later. Bye.”

Ahhhhh, silence was bliss! Stephen’s daddy suggested we eat lunch at Chili’s. I didn’t argue. I ordered a man-sized order of baby back ribs and ate like there was no tomorrow. In fact, I believe I even had barbecue sauce in my eyebrows when I was finished pigging out. [I’m a stress eater. … You can imagine]

How’s that for an update? I just want to set the record straight and possibly disappoint all of you who thought I was a perfect mother who never loses her patience with her child. Let me make it clear; I am not a saint. Actually, I’m just like everyone else. I’ll go so far as to say, most are probably way better than I! I get stressed just like everyone else. I yell at my child. I know a good opportunity to use the school system for a babysitter when I see one! And I did so, this past Tuesday. :P

Fall carnival this weekend at the school. Do we dare go?

Saturday, October 9, 2004

Testing...

Testing...

 

Still have connection problems. I installed version 6.0, which came with  my computer, and the AOL tech was wrong. It isn't a RAM issue...

I'll check in as often as I can.