The Haunted House Where I Grew Up.


Complete with ghosts and spooks and entities...



The old house certainly has changed over the last fifty years. I wouldn't have recognized it if I hadn't google it.

The house looks a lot smaller than it did when I lived there.



The Haunted House



When I was a kid, it was so big I could get lost and hide in it, where no one could find me.  An old attic, a dark damp basement, my sisters wouldn't follow me there.

It looks unkempt now, not that it didn't back then.  It seems the new owners have replaced the staircase, installed new windows and a new aluminum screen door. There is siding on the front of the attic that wasn't there before, I can still see where I brushed the brick on the first level with a wire brush as a teenager. Trying to give it that sandblasted look.

My dog, my sisters and I would sit for hours outside on those steps.
Wiling away the time.

You wouldn't think it haunted, it looks normal, like every other house on the street in shape and size.


But it was...

Us kids would swear by it!


This is the house where the old wringer washing machine down in the basement would be running, 
full of water when we came home from school. The kettle might be on when someone came home, boiling away. 
The television might be on. A ghosts of a little old ladies. Strange sounds.  Footsteps down the hall, at night. Taps turning on and off by themselves.


Fodder for a thirteen year olds imagination.


Dog Brindle







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