The value between the spirit world and the real world is the thinest.
Keeping this in mind... An open mind.
This is... a true story. An October story that was a real as it gets. Late in the last century, just a few days before Halloween. Visiting a house in Havre de Grace Maryland that was built in the mid 1800s. Located on high ground overlooking the Susquehanna River. The house sits on a large plot of land that is mostly wooded going all the way down to the river, secluded and beautiful. The house itself was somewhat modernized to the 1950s... so it was a beautiful mixture of all the heavy dark wood construction with old classic 1950s upgrades. The living room is huge about 25 x 40 foot, so large that the heavy wood ceiling beams needed to be supported by three thick posts across the middle of the room. Add to this, all the furniture was old heavy wood, old upholstering, but in like new condition. All the furnishings... lamps, photos, and decorations were are old, and again very pristine as if it was all brand new. It was like stepping back in time. So... That sets the stage for the house and the atmosphere.
The basement was stone walls an gravel floor.
These photos are not the actual house, but kinda representative of of the house in this story.
The basement was stone walls an gravel floor.
Like I said... Old house.
The story.
Some things just can not be explained from a logical or scientific perspective. This is one of those stories. My wife did private duty nursing, and her current patient lived in his house. We went there together one night for her over night shift. Her patient was bed ridden in an upstairs back master bedroom. I spent the night downstairs in the living room and eventually fell asleep on the sofa.
We all have dreams from time to time, most are only vaguely remembered after we wake up. I had a dream that night on the sofa... Which I fully remembered the next morning. Never had a dream that felt so real. It seemed to last all night long. There was a young girl, perhaps 10 years old, in a white summer dress, that in her own sweet way, like a grand daughter, wanted me to go with her down to the river. Her name was Becky. Sweet smile and big eyes... how could you say no? So all night long, she would take my hand in a hurry to get to the river. I was in no hurry, enjoying nature along the way. Stopping to see the flowers, the trees, the butterflies, and the chipmunks along the way. Clearly I wasn't moving fast enough, as the girl kept taking my hand to hurry me along. Come on... Let's go! This same scenario repeated itself all night long in the dream. It was an enjoyable walk down the trail leading to the river. But, In my dream, we never made it to the river. Funny how I woke up the next morning to full remember every aspect of the dream in detail.
The next morning... we went upstairs via the spiral staircase in the turret to see one of the bedrooms. The bedroom was directly over the living room where I was sleeping. It was just as large as the living room... It was huge. It had a big canopy bed between the two huge bay windows. All the furnishings were old but in pristine condition. It was clearly a childs room filled with all manners of toys. Wooden toys, cast iron toys, and lots of dolls. The bay windows were oversized with a shelf lined with dolls and a seating cushion large enough to fall asleep on... at least for a child anyway. All the porcelain face dolls in the windows had been there for a very long time. The side of the dolls face that was facing the sun were extremely faded, while the shady side looked brand new, full of color. There were two huge old time wardrobes, a decorative chest at the foot of the bed, and a baby crib that was probably still there from her infantacy. A very interesting room. I've always been intrigued by old stuff.
The rest of the story. The next day we learned that this room was the daughters bedroom. She was ten years old when she died. Her name was Rebecca. She had left the house without her parents knowing, went down to the river, and fell into the river and drown. Her parents never got over her death, and her bedroom has remained just as it was on the day that she died. There was a photograph of the young girl... it was taken earlier on the very day that she died. In the photo, she was wearing a white summer dress. Now the scary part... she was the young girl that was in my dreams the night before. A bit unnerving... You might even say supernatural. No matter what you may believe is possible, this certainly altered my perceptions of what might be possible. Unexplained, yet real. Stranger things have happened to me, but this was the most realistic occurance.
It was so stranger to have a dream so vividly real, then to learn everything the next morning. Where I slept on the sofa was directly under the bed upstairs. I've always been a person to rationalize and question everything, but there was no rational explanation for all of this. I never returned to that house but later learned that others had unnatural feelings in and about that house, and the Becky's bedroom.
Some things simply can not be explained. They are what they are. The perspective of what we know and can rationalize, verses undeniable occurances for which there is no rational explanation. Some things are real beyond our understanding.
We all have dreams from time to time, most are only vaguely remembered after we wake up. I had a dream that night on the sofa... Which I fully remembered the next morning. Never had a dream that felt so real. It seemed to last all night long. There was a young girl, perhaps 10 years old, in a white summer dress, that in her own sweet way, like a grand daughter, wanted me to go with her down to the river. Her name was Becky. Sweet smile and big eyes... how could you say no? So all night long, she would take my hand in a hurry to get to the river. I was in no hurry, enjoying nature along the way. Stopping to see the flowers, the trees, the butterflies, and the chipmunks along the way. Clearly I wasn't moving fast enough, as the girl kept taking my hand to hurry me along. Come on... Let's go! This same scenario repeated itself all night long in the dream. It was an enjoyable walk down the trail leading to the river. But, In my dream, we never made it to the river. Funny how I woke up the next morning to full remember every aspect of the dream in detail.
The next morning... we went upstairs via the spiral staircase in the turret to see one of the bedrooms. The bedroom was directly over the living room where I was sleeping. It was just as large as the living room... It was huge. It had a big canopy bed between the two huge bay windows. All the furnishings were old but in pristine condition. It was clearly a childs room filled with all manners of toys. Wooden toys, cast iron toys, and lots of dolls. The bay windows were oversized with a shelf lined with dolls and a seating cushion large enough to fall asleep on... at least for a child anyway. All the porcelain face dolls in the windows had been there for a very long time. The side of the dolls face that was facing the sun were extremely faded, while the shady side looked brand new, full of color. There were two huge old time wardrobes, a decorative chest at the foot of the bed, and a baby crib that was probably still there from her infantacy. A very interesting room. I've always been intrigued by old stuff.
The rest of the story. The next day we learned that this room was the daughters bedroom. She was ten years old when she died. Her name was Rebecca. She had left the house without her parents knowing, went down to the river, and fell into the river and drown. Her parents never got over her death, and her bedroom has remained just as it was on the day that she died. There was a photograph of the young girl... it was taken earlier on the very day that she died. In the photo, she was wearing a white summer dress. Now the scary part... she was the young girl that was in my dreams the night before. A bit unnerving... You might even say supernatural. No matter what you may believe is possible, this certainly altered my perceptions of what might be possible. Unexplained, yet real. Stranger things have happened to me, but this was the most realistic occurance.
It was so stranger to have a dream so vividly real, then to learn everything the next morning. Where I slept on the sofa was directly under the bed upstairs. I've always been a person to rationalize and question everything, but there was no rational explanation for all of this. I never returned to that house but later learned that others had unnatural feelings in and about that house, and the Becky's bedroom.
Some things simply can not be explained. They are what they are. The perspective of what we know and can rationalize, verses undeniable occurances for which there is no rational explanation. Some things are real beyond our understanding.
