thewitt
iPF Novice
Here's another story from my youth.
We remodeled the kitchen in the early 1970s, which was still original from the 1900s. During this remodel the contractors had to reset the cabinets several times as they seemed to end up out of level. These were high end construction workers, real craftsmen, and should never have had these issues.
After the remodel was finished and everything was perfect, we had an incident...
In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a loud crashing sound from upstairs in the kitchen. My bedroom was in the basement, and my parents slept on the second floor. As I ran upstairs to see what had happened, I heard my father on the stairs coming down from his room.
We converged on the kitchen to find every cupboard standing open, and every drawer had been pulled out and upended, their contents scattered wall to wall across the floor.
We looked at each other and my father simply said, "Clarrisa," the name that a house guest had given the ghost several years earlier. She said the name had just come to her at night, not exactly in a dream but like someone had whispered it to her. The name stuck - right or wrong.
We quietly returned the drawers and refilled them, and closed all the cabinet doors.
We figured Clarrisa was not happy that we had changed the kitchen.... Nothing like that ever happened again, but it was very creepy at the time.
We remodeled the kitchen in the early 1970s, which was still original from the 1900s. During this remodel the contractors had to reset the cabinets several times as they seemed to end up out of level. These were high end construction workers, real craftsmen, and should never have had these issues.
After the remodel was finished and everything was perfect, we had an incident...
In the middle of the night, I was awakened by a loud crashing sound from upstairs in the kitchen. My bedroom was in the basement, and my parents slept on the second floor. As I ran upstairs to see what had happened, I heard my father on the stairs coming down from his room.
We converged on the kitchen to find every cupboard standing open, and every drawer had been pulled out and upended, their contents scattered wall to wall across the floor.
We looked at each other and my father simply said, "Clarrisa," the name that a house guest had given the ghost several years earlier. She said the name had just come to her at night, not exactly in a dream but like someone had whispered it to her. The name stuck - right or wrong.
We quietly returned the drawers and refilled them, and closed all the cabinet doors.
We figured Clarrisa was not happy that we had changed the kitchen.... Nothing like that ever happened again, but it was very creepy at the time.