10-28-2006, 08:19 AM
Wow, Malolo, I really enjoyed the poetry. I will try to get my lengthy Southern Gothic family ghost story on here before Halloween.
Aloha,
Jerry
Aloha,
Jerry
Ghost Stories
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10-28-2006, 08:19 AM
Wow, Malolo, I really enjoyed the poetry. I will try to get my lengthy Southern Gothic family ghost story on here before Halloween.
Aloha, Jerry
10-28-2006, 09:26 AM
Here's a couple of stories my aunt told me. She was born and raised at the Kohala sugar plantation around 1916.
When my aunt was around 4-6 years old, she had a girlfriend at the plantation whose mother had a long-term illness that rendered her bed-ridden. One day, while playing at home, my aunt heard someone calling to her. She stepped outside and was surprised to see her girlfriend's mother standing in the field next to the house. They had a pleasant conversation then the woman left and my aunt went back inside feeling happy that her friend's mother appeared to be recovering from her illness. Later that evening, my aunt learned that her friend's mother had passed away that day. She was confused and asked when this happened because she remembered her conversation with the woman, who seemed well. It turned out that my aunt saw her friend's mother at the moment of her death. On another occasion, my aunt was coming home from a gathering in the evening, riding together on horseback with my dad and my grandfather. She noticed a white dog following them closely. After a few minutes, the dog started to jump up and nip at her feet. She cried out and complained to her father and brother. They were a bit perplexed because they saw no dog! For the rest of the ride home, she pulled her legs up to keep them from dangling within reach of the dog. My grandfather and father never saw this dog. My aunt was positive, until her death, that there was a dog biting at her feet that night. White dogs were considered to be a spirit form. Les
10-28-2006, 12:44 PM
Plenty of ghost stories surronding the area that the Mauna Kea BH is on... benevolent ones though... the Waikoloa Hotels dont have the same benevolence to their ghosts... one killed 3 of the construction workers as the hotel was being built (or so it is said...)
and one burned down one of the resturants at the Hyatt (now Hilton I guess) it is also said. The MKBH ghosts roam the hallways and have been seen by many but havent hurt any one... From a different land, has any one heard the houdini ghosts legends? we used to go up to Houdini's old mansion at night in Hollywood just to scare ourselves silly! Edited by - kapohocat on 10/28/2006 16:48:54
10-28-2006, 03:55 PM
When I was six years old, my father moved the family from our home place in Texas to the old Wade Plantation in Georgia. He did this for a rich friend from Fort Worth who had bought the place and wanted to raise cattle there. Daddy agreed (for a decent sum of money) to go for two years to get things going, and then we moved back to Texas.
We lived in the antebellum plantation house, which was huge with a ballroom and abandoned slave quarters out back. The place was surrounded by big trees draped with Spanish moss. It looked spooky, but we loved the place. It was also something of a nerve center for the plantation with people coming and going all the time. One day when I thought I was in the house alone, I saw a very old lady in a shawl leave the sewing room on the second floor and go up the stairway leading to the attic. I ran out back where my mother was planting flowers and told her someone was in the house, probably looking for her. She told me she wasn't expecting anyone, went in and looked around, and found nobody. A few weeks later I saw the same lady in the same place. This time the only person around was an old black gentleman named George whose parents had been slaves and who milked our cow for us in the barn. I ran over to the barn and told him about the lady in the shawl, and he said, "Oh my, that's old lady Wade! Don't be scared. She won't hurt you." I was only seven, but I knew that the last Wade had died around 1910. I just walked back to the house and waited on the front steps for my mother to get home from picking my 16 year old sister up at basketball practice. When I told her, she said, "George believes a lot of odd things. There's no such thing as ghosts." And that was that as far a she was concerned. My sister, however, had a taste for the occult and did some research into local legends. It seems that Mrs. Wade's son Peyton had been killed at Cold Harbor, Virginia during the Civil War. As was common with Confederate dead, he was buried in a poorly marked (or more likely unmarked) grave. Mrs. Wade had paid someone to retrieve the body, and they brought one back allright. Later in town, however, the man was overheard remarking to his assistant that they had no real way of knowing if it was Peyton, or not. Meanwhile Mrs. Wade had prepared an elaborate tomb in the plantation cemetery. Legend has it that after this got back to her, she spent the rest of her days walking the halls and stairs of her big old house in a shawl, wondering if she really had Peyton's bones in the tomb or not. After she died in 1910, according to George, she only appeared in the house when only one living person was there. He knew of at least a dozen people who had seen her. My sister would sometimes make a point to be alone in the house, hoping to see the old lady, but it never happened for her, at least not yet. 27 years after we returned to Texas, my mother got a call from my sister's high school boyfriend, who had taken over management of the plantation and now lived in the old house. He and sister had both recently been divorced. They started dating, and a year later she married him and moved back into the house. By this time, I was living in Atlanta, just a few hours drive away. The first time I visited the happy couple, my sister saw me standing at the base of the attic stairs outside the sewing room. All she said was, "Yes, she's still here." Edited by - JerryCarr on 10/28/2006 19:57:46
10-28-2006, 04:02 PM
OKAY, OKAY...Tony told me I shouldn't read this 'cause I get the chicken skin and wake him up at night and then I went and did it...I got as far as Nancy Fryhover's very creepy story and now I got da chicken skin. I will not read further I think. Tony will be very warm tonight. I will wake him up 'cause now I got da chicken skin.
Carrie "To be one, to be united is a great thing. But to respect the right to be different is maybe even greater." Bono http://www.hellophoenix.com/art/dreamhawaii.Cfm
Carrie
http://www.carrierojo.etsy.com http://www.vintageandvelvet.blogspot.com "Freedom has a scent like the top of a newborn baby's head..." U2 |
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