During the 80's when my grandparents finally retired, they took their retirement out in a lump-sum and bought an RV and a Boat. About 1989 my Grandfathers years of drinking and smoking caught up with him, and he passed away. My Grandmother then sold the boat and RV to get as much money as possible and settled down in a 55+ trailer court. Sadly, when you think of places that are 55+, you automatically think "Elephant Graveyard". Which, was infact, what it was. The Trailer she had bought was built during the 60's or 70's (Probably the latter judging by the decor), and the oldlady who had it previously, had died there, as did the one before her...Only complaints anyone had about it, was that it was indeed a little icky, and smelt of cat pee(Im assuming the previous owner was the park "cat lady"), the floor was sunk-in in various locations, and that the back portion was frankly, really damn creepy, as was the yard...least to me and my brother. The Trailer was a perfect rectangle, excluding the deck and awning, and when you divided the rectangle in half, down the middle, width wise, the 'square' closest to the road was fine...it included the livingroom and kitchen, which was where i spent most of my time anyway. The other'square' was just creepy as hell. It included a dark hallway which had the sewing room, bathroom, and back bedroom branch off it. The sewing room, distinctly gave off a "Who are you, why are you here?!" sort of vibe. Strangely enough, my brother and I recently agreed over the phone, that the bathroom was perfectly fine. But, as you moved farther back, into the final room, the vibe turned into "get out!", which I had no problem obeying. I usually didn't stay there for more than a few miniutes when I had to grab my grandma her pills. One of my early memories, was going over with my dad, and sitting in the tool shed while he mowed the lawn with a pushmower. I heard a rather loud knock on the left side of the shed, which then moved to the back, and then up the right side back towards the entrence. Like someone was walking all the way around it knocking on the sides as they went. I got up and looked. No dice. My grandmother was asleep on the deck, and my dad was mowing on the other side of the house. That stayed with me. Around 1997 or 98, her health declined slightly, and she began using a walker. Around 2000 she had a fall and ended up in the hospital for a while. When she finally returned home, she began having a caretaker come over once a day. They were really nice...One of them had a female German shepard that bred Police K-9 Units. Ended up having a 'bad' batch when the neighbors Black lab jumped over the fence and shagged her. She gave us one of the puppies which i still have to this day. Anyway, another one of her caretakers was a Catholic. And to me and my brothers amazment, she said she felt "something" in the trailer, "bad ju-ju" she called it. Ended up putting a saucer of Holy water in the Sewing room, and gave my grandmother a few rosary beads to lay around. Only other person besides me and my brother who felt it. Another day when me and my brother went over to see her, she told us the night before, she'd felt something touching her lips while she layed in bed. When she went to brush whatever it was away, "it" knocked her hand back. She was convinced it was my Grandpa. Im convinced that I'll know one day. My grandmother ended up in the hospital one last time around 2002, where she stayed until July of 2004 when she died. Strange enough, I think she knew her time was up. She called my cousin a day or two before she died and apologized for a few things that happened between them, and told him how proud she was of all of us. Makes you wonder...Her status was pretty stable for the last year or so...I don't know how she could have telled. After her death, we sold her trailer to a Vietnamese couple for dirt cheap. They were very gratefull. The husband was actually a member of the Southvietnamese Army who was captured and imprisoned for many years following the war. Until the US Government payed to have them released and brought to the States. He was a proud American, and a really nice guy. After they'd been living there for a week or so, he called my father and said that the first night he spent there, he'd heard a knock on the door in the middle of the night. He went to answer it, and no one was there. But he'd smelt something really sweet as soon as he opened the door. He thought it was my Grandmother coming home one last timeSounded rather superstitious to me, but given everything that I've felt from that house, it clicks.
Thats probably my final story, I don't have all that much else to share...Like I said, I never actually saw ghosts or anything in that trailer, but I've had my share of "strange feelings" and things I just can't explain.
Hope someone enjoyed that, at least partially...or else I just wasted a good chunk of time
Edited by Shadow Syndicate, 21 August 2008 - 11:11 PM.