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Ghosts?
Ridiculous. Everybody knows you have to be a back-woods, ignorant,
superstitious boob to believe in ghosts. Right? That is, until you come
face-to-face with one. (Or should I say, face-to-whatever it
is?)
A few years ago, my family
and I traveled to Bedford, Pennsylvania, so that my son could visit a
young lady he liked very much.
She and her sister (whom I had worked with in Texas) lived in a
large farmhouse with her parents. I will call them Bill and
Betty. The girl was Brenda and her sister was Barbara. We planned a big open house so
that all the friends and kinfolks around there could come and meet my
son.
The first two days were absolutely wonderful; lots of food, fun,
games and sightseeing in the beautiful mountains of South Central
Pennsylvania. The third day, Bill and I were sitting in the kitchen
drinking coffee while the rest were playing outside in a creek that ran
near their back yard. I heard
a strange noise, and I looked up and saw that the vent over the stove had
come on. No wind, no movement
of any kind. Bill reached up and turned the fan off. A few minutes later, it came on
again and Bill reached up to turn it off and
said:
"That’s
enough, Henrietta. Stop it."
He got up and left
the kitchen for a few minutes, and I got up and looked to see what made
the fan come on. I pulled the chain, but it was very hard to pull,
and nothing happened. I found
out later that Bill thought I knew about Henrietta. I still thought
he was being funny, and I tried to wipe it out of my mind. I did,
until the next night, when I met Henrietta again.
The
fact that there were 11 people present at the "house party" required the
use of sofas, sleeping bags, etc. I was on the floor with my
youngest about 6 feet from the piano. In the wee hours I woke up to the
sound of piano with the notes C, D, E and G. I chalked it up to my
imagination.... cellar noises or noise from people
upstairs.
The
next night the same C, D, E and G sounded, but much
louder.
The
next day I asked Betty if she thought maybe one of my kids did that, and
she said
"No. That was just Henrietta trying to get attention. Pay her
no mind… she's harmless." Maybe so, but she was about to make me
harm myself. The next morning I told my kids to pack up.
We were going to a motel. Fortunately, the bloom had gone off the
romance and my son was ready to go home.
When I
questioned Betty about Henrietta, she said she had been told about her,
but did not believe it. They
did wonder why they were able to buy the house and land so cheap. As we were leaving she said they
thought Henrietta was trying to play the "Tennessee Waltz. Try it:
C, D, E and G. Twice. Been there, done that. I am a
believer. Leigh Eaton
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