Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Creepy Old Caravan

* Sent in by Selena Coles (Queensland, Australia)

I don’t know much about ghosts and all that stuff but I’m pretty sure my husband renovated a haunted caravan.  Sounds weird I know, but nothing else can explain it.

My hubby Tony started his own business after he retired, buying, renovating, refurbishing and selling caravans and camper trailers.  His specialty was old retro vans and people sought him out for his expertise and attention to detail.

A few years back a couple in their early 40’s came in with a tired, rundown old caravan dating back to the 70’s.  It was a big old beauty but it was in very bad condition.  Tony got to work on it nonetheless, optimistic about its eventual restoration.

Working in the yard one day I could hear Tony calling my name from his workshop.  I made my way into the shed wondering what all the fuss was about.  I couldn’t see Tony anywhere so I called his name loudly.  His head popped out the door of the old van with a perplexed look on his face.

“Did you just call me darl?” Tony asked me.

“Yes ... I called you because you called me ... didn’t you?” I replied.

Tony then emerged from the van looking all the more confused.  “No I didn’t ... you were calling me.”

I shook my head in disagreement.

“You called me first though didn’t you?” he asked me.

Then it was my turn to be confused.  Tony went on to explain that while he’d been working on the van he’d heard me calling him.  He said it sounded as though I was right behind him in the van, but when he turned around I wasn’t there, so he went back to his work.  A couple of moments later he said he’d heard me call his name again, then again.  That was when he’d called out to me.

Leaving us both a little baffled, we both went off to do our respective chores ... Tony back to his van and me back to the weeding in the garden.

Later that night Tony brought up the strange experience again, but the more we discussed it, the more confused we became.

The following morning I headed into town and didn’t return until early evening.  Tony had closed up his workshop (strange within itself) and was waiting for me in the kitchen upon my return.  He looked more than just a little rattled.

“You were calling me again today,” he stated before I’d even had a chance to put my handbag down.  He continued, “I kept feeling like someone was watching me all day.  Every time I went near the old van I kept getting the feeling that I wasn’t alone.  And I’d get myself a tool to do something, but the moment I put it down it was moved or disappeared completely.  I found my screwdriver up on one of the cabinets and I know I never put it there.  Took me half an hour to find it.”

I certainly couldn’t imagine what was going on, but Tony wasn’t one to make up stories.
A week or so later the owners of the van rang to see how the renovations were progressing.  Tony asked them what they knew of the history of the van, and they told him that they’d bought it through a friend, so would see what they could find out.

Tony worked on the van diligently and did a splendid job of restoring it as well as installing some modern conveniences as per the owner’s requirements.  Each night though, after spending time working on the van, Tony would tell me about the constant feeling of being watched, hearing his name amongst other words and voices, his tools continued to vanish and turn up in odd places and it was always cold inside the caravan.

The caravan was near completion and I was curious to take a look for myself.  Tony was busy fitting new lights to the outside of the van so I took myself inside and sat on the newly refurbished couch.  

I can’t really explain what I felt or why, but within a few moments I felt a cold chill run right through me and I shivered involuntarily.  I also got the feeling that someone was watching me from the moment I stepped inside.  As much as I was determined to stick it out, I just felt so uncomfortable that I was forced out of the van.  All I really know is that there was something strange about that old caravan and both Tony and I were glad to see it finally finished and out of the workshop.

When the owners arrived to pick it up they were over the Moon about the job Tony had done on their own van ... but hadn’t been able to find out the origins of the van or any information about its history.  I don’t think I really want to know anyway.  I’m just pleased nothing like that has happened to us since.


* Sent in by Selena Coles (Queensland, Australia)

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Saved From Being Hit by a Train

* Sent in by Ken Milne

I was our shopping with my girlfriends in town and had seriously overspent of some homewares and clothes and was lamenting my impulsive urges over lunch.  It was a common occurrence with me so my friends just laughed off my whinging and whining.

We went our separate ways after our catch-up and I made my way to the train station, stopping briefly at my favourite bakery before heading home.  I plugged in my earphones to call my boyfriend to tell him I’d be a little and late and not to worry.  I was busy chatting away when I approached the pedestrian boom-gate next to the tracks.  I’ll admit that I wasn’t really paying much attention, so I casually glanced to my right after the first train passed, oblivious to the other train coming the other way on the other track.  I just blindly went to step out.  But something held me back.  I couldn't move my arms or legs and I felt totally rooted to the spot.  I couldn’t move a muscle.  It was like something or someone had me in a full body hold.  In a flash the trained rushed passed me and I felt the wind gushing harshly against my face and body.  It scared the life out of me and my heart was beating in my throat when I realized how close I’d come to being hit, and possibly killed, by that speeding train.

My body then totally relaxed and felt back to normal and I tentatively made my way across the tracks to the platform.

I can’t really explain who or what stopped me from stepping in front of that train, but I’m certainly grateful that it did.


* Sent in by Ken Milne

My Guardian Angel Saved Me From Drowning

* Sent in by Rachel

When I was about 13 my family and some relatives visiting from Holland, travelled from Melbourne in Victoria to Hervey Bay in Queensland, on a two week road trip.

Somewhere halfway through New South Wales we’d stopped for a break and some lunch.  We’d pulled off the highway near an irrigation channel and a few of us decided to take a dip.  The fast-flowing current was pretty strong so the others quickly got out.  I was an over-confident swimmer and was sure I could easily swim against the current.

I ducked under the water and felt my body being swept quickly along with the current.  As I tried to surface I hit the top of my head against something hard and everything was dark above me.  I realized that I’d been swept under the concrete bridge that ran over the channel and there was no gap between the rushing water and the bottom of the bridge.

I bobbed back down and swam frantically against the current, trying to swim beyond the bridge.  I tried to surface again only to hit the top of my head on the bridge.  I was quickly running out of air and energy and I began to panic.  I kicked out frantically and in a last-ditch effort tried to swim free of the bridge again. 

Then I felt someone grab my hand firmly and focused my eyes on a figure in the water in front of me.  I was totally bewildering because I could clearly see the figure of a woman in a floating gown and she was lit up somehow, but she didn’t seem to actually be in the water ... she just seemed to be floating with the strong current not affecting her in anyway.  She just looked vibrant, calm and serene under the rushing water ... but I could feel myself starting to fade to darkness the longer I was stuck under the water.

I woke up on the bank of the channel downstream with no recollection of exactly how I got out from under the bridge and/or out of the water and up onto the bank.

Sitting up and looking upstream I could see my family frantically scrambling around the bridge and my mother being consoled by her sister, my aunt.  I yelled out and my Dad spun around then ran towards me.  I was still disoriented and couldn’t cohesively explain what had happened, but everyone agreed that I was safe, and that was the main thing. 

I still don’t know how I ended up on the bank some way downstream, but I do believe that what I saw under the water that day was my guardian angel and I can’t thank her enough for saving me from drowning that day.

* Sent in by Rachel 

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Forced Out Of Our Own Home

 * Sent in by Samantha Bouncer

In hindsight, I should have been a little suspicious when our neighbour Jacob told me that all the previous tenants of the house we’d just rented never stayed for very long.  But at the time I was so happy that we’d managed to find a decent place to rent that I didn’t give it a second thought.

I was pregnant with my first child and my priority was a safe and secure home for our little family.  The first four months were quite uneventful for me and my partner Mark, but after our son Jayden was born strange things started happening.

Our near-new television set started flickering when we watched it at night, then it stopped working altogether.  I sent it off to be repaired only to have the repairman ring me a few days later to tell me that my TV was in perfect working order and not a problem could be found.  So I got it back and it worked again for a couple of nights until it went blank and shut down.  I took it to a different repair shop, and exactly the same thing happened.  Nothing wrong with it.  Within a fortnight our washing machine, dryer and stereo all broke down unexpectedly.  

My cat Chloe also started behaving strangely.  She had always been a very loving and relaxed cat, but I noticed that she seemed spooked most of the time and didn’t like to spend time inside the house.  Chloe would sit staring at nothing and would occasionally hiss and spit and lash out at something (or someone) that we just couldn’t see.  She seemed tormented and unsettled all the time so I ended up giving my beloved Chloe to my sister Sarah, where she settled in straight away and quickly went back to her old happy, loving ways.

Not long after Chloe’s departure we started hearing all sorts of noises, banging, footsteps and metallic-sounding scratching and tinging.  At times I would notice random unexplainable cold spots around the house. We also developed problems with the door and window locks.  I’d o out during the day only to come home to find the front door with open, knowing I’d securely locked it.  At other times I would go to get the mail or hang out the washing only to find I’d been locked out of the house.  Even when I’d chocked the door open, somehow it would close and lock.  I started having to carry a set of keys around with me when I was home.

The windows seemed to have a mind of their own and I’d find them open or closed at any time, knowing that I hadn’t touched them. We’d often hear banging on our bedroom walls and ceiling and doors opening and closing throughout the house.  Night times were eerie and creepy and I dreaded Jayden’s night time feeds.

I often felt very uncomfortable during the day when I was home alone with little Jayden.  I’d get the sensation that someone was watching me, and I’d feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise every time.  I particularly felt self-conscious when I was showering and changing my clothes. It really gave me the creeps.

I got up early one morning and checked on Jayden before making my way into the kitchen.  Once there I was confronted with my pots and pans on the floor and all the draws left open. I set about picking up the pots and putting them back in the cupboard, but as I’d put one in, another would fall off the shelf as though an unseen hand was pushing them off.  This was happening right in front of me and as much as I tried to hold onto my resolve I ended up fleeing the kitchen and hiding in my bedroom.  I rang Mark at his work and told him I’d had enough and wanted out of the house. Now.  I’d begun to feel more and more uncomfortable and safe and feared for all of us.

I also rang my friend Gina later that day and gave her an update on our creepy happenings.  She told me to leave it with her and she would get back to me later.  The following day she called me back with the name and number of a local medium and ghostbuster.  I rang and arranged for her to visit as soon as possible.

Within a couple of minutes of the medium entering my home, she commented that a young man in his late teens or early twenties was loitering but did not wish to communicate with her.  The medium persisted and walked from room to room.  She stopped in Jayden’s room and from the kitchen I could hear her quietly speaking out loud.

Some time later the medium came back into the kitchen and told me that she had tried to reason with our not-so-friendly ghost and convince him to go towards the light, but he had adamantly refused and had told her that he had no intention of leaving.  This was ‘his’ house and he’d be staying whether we liked it or not.  So, if he refused to leave, then we certainly would.  I made arrangements to move into my parent’s spare room right then and there.

Over the following two days we packed up our belongings and left, never looking back.

* Sent in by Samantha Bouncer

The Campfire Ghost

* Sent in by Ricky Compton

I still don’t know if it was a real ghost or not but it scared the crap out of me anyway.

Me and two of my mates went on a camping trip to Woods Point in Victoria about two years ago and it was a trip I’ll never forget.

I finally got my drivers’ license so decided to take a bit of a road trip one weekend.  I had never been there before, but my mate Geoff reckoned it was a great place to camp.

The first day we had a look at the old gold mines and shafts and did a bit of a tour of the area.  I didn’t like going into the old mines because they were unsafe and creepy.  I was happy to wait out the front while Geoff and Dave went in for a look.  Dave was sure he was going to find a rogue gold nugget and Geoff was always the first one to give anything a go.

Later that afternoon we pitched our tents, set up the swags and lit a campfire.  It was going to be a really cold night so we wanted to cook our food before dark and rug up in front of the fire.

It was about 11pm and I was ready to head into my swag for the night.  Geoff and Dave were doing the same.  Once settled we called out to one another, laughing and joking around.  I could see the silhouette of someone standing by the campfire.  I thought it must have been Dave, but then I heard his voice coming from the tent beside me.  So it must have been Geoff, so I yelled out and asked him what he was doing.  “Lying in bed” he told me, his voice coming from the tent to the right to me.  So with all three of us in our tents who was out there standing by the fire??

I didn’t want to get out of my swag, but my curiosity got the better of me.  I was scared but just couldn’t help myself.  

Peeking out through the zip on my tent, I saw an old bloke with a long, stringy grey beard, wearing a tattered flannel shirt.  But I couldn’t see below his knees or his feet.  All I could see was his head, torso and thighs.  I screamed in shock and fright.  The figure turned and looked at me then faded away to nothing.  I couldn’t believe my own eyes.  One moment the old man was there and the next he was gone.

By then Geoff and Dave were out of their tents demanding to know what the hell I was squealing about.

I stuttered and stammered and tried to describe what I’d seen.  The guys just looked at me like I was an idiot.  ‘Bullshit’ was the general consensus.

But I knew what I’d seen and no one could convince me otherwise.

We went back into our tents, but I didn’t sleep too well that night.

The entire following day the guys ribbed me about my ‘old man ghost’.  At every possible opportunity they stuck the boots in.  

I was so buggered that night that I went to bed not long after dinner, leaving Geoff and Dave by the fire.  I bombed out pretty quickly, but was woken up some time later by the sound of Dave yelling.  I sat up in my swag a bit disorientated.  Then I heard Geoff shuffling around in his tent.  Next thing I knew my tent zip opened and both Dave and Geoff bundled in.

“I saw him,” Dave blurted out.  “So did I” replied Geoff.  It took me a moment to register who they were talking about.  Then they described exactly what I’d seen the night before  -  an old bloke with a stringy grey beard and a flannelette shirt.  And just like the night before, the man’s feet and lower legs couldn’t be seen.

Both Dave and Geoff kept apologizing for taking the piss out of me.  We stayed awake for most of that night, way too spooked to sleep peacefully, and we were glad to see the Sun come up.

We left the campsite after breakfast and headed for home, glad to be leaving the ghost of the old man behind us.

* Sent in by Ricky Compton

Monday, June 24, 2013

Andrew’s Ghostly Playmate

* Sent in by Jen H.

I was home alone with my young son Andrew, doing chores and catching up on some cleaning around the house while Andrew went down for a nap.

Sometime later I could hear Andrew chattering from his bedroom so I knew that nap-time was over it was time for my two year old tornado to be let loose.

Walking up the hallway to Andrew’s room I stopped just outside his door.  Andrew continued talking to who I considered to be his imaginary friend.  What I found odd though, listening to his conversation, was that he was speaking and asking questions, then leaving a gap before speaking again as though it was a two-way conversation.  Then he laughed and said ‘you’re so funny Adam ...”     Adam??   I walked in at that point and Andrew abruptly stopped talking then looked over and smiled at me.  “This is my mummy,” he said to thin air.

A day or so later I was in the kitchen doing dishes while Andrew played on the floor in front of the bench where I could see him.  He was chatting away again and I watched as he sorted out his toys.  “One for you, one for me ... one for you, one for me,” he said as he put one toy in front of himself and another on a pile on the other side of the mat he sat on.  And so it went on until every toy was out of Andrew’s toy box.  Two distinct piles sat on the carpet in front of Andrew.  One for him and one for ... Adam?

I turned away to dry a cup and out the corner of my eye I thought I saw a flash of blue.  I looked quickly but only saw Andrew and his toys.  Nothing unusual there ...

Andrew chatted away and giggled to himself as he played, and I quickly made a phone call to my best girlfriend Donna.  She was due to come over for a play-date with her son Jordan and I wanted to ask her to stop by the shops to pick me up some milk.

Just as I was hanging up the phone I looked over to see Andrew holding up a toy as though presenting it to someone.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  I watched as the toy seemed to drift in the air of its own accord.  It only lasted a second, but in that brief moment I was sure I saw it hang in mid-air, then be placed amongst the other toys on the pile.  I knew what I saw  -  but I couldn’t believe it.

Donna arrived, milk in hand.  She saw the look on my face and asked me what on Earth was wrong with me.  I said I was just feeling a little flustered as I didn’t want to tell her what I’d just witnessed.  She’d think I was nuts!

We settled in for a coffee at the kitchen bench and I tried my hardest to forget what I was sure I’d seen.  I kept thinking about it and looking at Andrew and Jordan playing on the floor.  Jordan was a little younger than Andrew but they played together nicely and got along well.  Soon enough there was three piles of toys on the mat  -  one for Andrew, one for Jordan and one for .... Adam?

Donna noticed that I was distracted and asked me what was on my mind.  I didn’t know what to say, so just made the excuse that I’d been feeling a little rundown and tired.  She nodded in empathy.  

I took myself off to the loo and left Donna to mind the boys.  Upon my return Donna asked me who ‘Adam’ was.  I asked her where she’d heard the name Adam, and she replied that both Andrew and Jordan had both referred to Adam, as though they were talking to someone that she couldn’t see.

At first I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I had to say something so I told her what had happened the other day as well as the toy episode from earlier that day.  I was expecting her to look at me as though I’d gone totally bonkers, but instead she listened intently, nodding here and there as I spoke.  She didn’t seem at all surprised ... in fact, she then went on to tell me of a similar experience that one of her workmates had had.  She told me that it was more common than what I would ever have thought.

I started to pay more attention after that and noticed that Adam seemed to be around most of the time.  It was like having an invisible tenant around the house.  

I never actually saw Adam myself although Andrew continued chatting to him for well over three years or so.  I got used to having Adam around even though he was never really all that present for me.  He made Andrew happy and content and that was the main thing from my perspective.

Over time though, Adam seemed to be around less and less as the years passed.
Today, Andrew has grown up to be a healthy and happy young man of 33 and nowadays has no memory of his childhood friend Adam.  But I remember him.

* Sent in by Jen H.

My Guardian Angel Alf

* Sent in by Andrew Jillson

Alf, my Guardian Angel, has always had my back and has always been a source of support, protection and encouragement for me.

I don’t really know the name of my Guardian Angel, but I fondly call him ‘Alf’.  I’ve called him that for as long as I can remember.

I don’t tell anyone of course because they’d think I was totally insane, but to me it is a comfort and I am happy with ‘Alf’.

I first became aware of having Alf around me when I was a teenager.  My mother says that I was an incessant chatterer since birth, and I was always talking to something or someone as a toddler.

I remember walking home from school one afternoon with my friend Denise and feeling a hand on my shoulder pushing me up all of a sudden.  I stopped instantly and grabbed Denise by the arm just as she was about to step onto the pedestrian crossing.  We’d been so preoccupied that we hadn’t seen the icon change and would have stepped out into oncoming traffic.

Another time I was at a party with a group of my girlfriends when I was about 17, and I could feel someone tapping on my shoulder to get my attention.  I turned to see who it was but then quickly realized that my back was to the wall with on one behind me, so I knew that it had been Alf.  I tuned in to his energy and felt compelled to leave the party right then and there.
I suddenly felt quite a foreboding feeling and felt compelled to get home as soon as possible.  I left the party much to the chagrin of my friends and caught a taxi home.  Once there I took a few deep breaths and asked for Alf’s help with whatever was to confront me on the other side of the door.  I felt a wave of energy wash over me from head to foot and just knew that all would be okay.  

Opening the door with confidence I was relieved to find all was in order.  Mum and Dad were sitting comfortably on the couch watching TV and my younger brother Cameron was asleep in bed.  I took a short shower and took myself off to bed, wondering about Alf’s warning at the party.

I was to find out the next day that just after I’d left, a group of gatecrashers had arrived causing trouble for some of the party-goers.  Fights broke out, the hall was trashed and eventually the police were called.  I was glad I hadn’t been there for that.

As an adult, Alf has guided and assisted me more times than I can count.  Sometimes it would be subtle, like when choosing one thing over another, which direction to go in when travelling in unfamiliar territory and alerting me to any impending dangers or obstacles.  Alf lets me know when something is a good thing or a bad thing, and whenever I feel confused or upset Alf cloaks me in his love.  I would not feel complete without Alf in my life and I feel blessed and loved every day.

* Sent in by Andrew Jillson

Angels Angels Everywhere

* Sent in by Angela Wilkinson

My mum had always talked about angels for as long as I could remember.  Everyone thought it was cute, but to my mum, angels were serious business.

Mum wasn’t religious at all but she certainly believed in angels and always encouraged my brother, sister and I to talk to the angels and trust them.  She always said that if you listened hard enough you would hear them.  I always went along with her even though I really wasn’t as into them as she was.  

I say ‘was’ because my mother passed away about four years ago now.  Since then i know when mum is around because she shows me signs by moving my little angel figurines around in the crystal cabinet.  Mum had bought me that set of angels about six months before she died, and they always remind me of her.  Some mornings I would find all of my angels grouped to one side or the other, or would be lined u along the front of the shelf.  No one ever touched them during the night and I never knew when she would strike, but I always know that its Mum paying me a visit.

As I’ve gotten older and have had children of my own (and a new grandchild on the way), I too have had more and more contact with angels.  I can feel their presence and I aks for their help and guidance whenever I feel the need and they are always there for me.  Open yourself up to the angels, and you may pleasantly surprised.

* Sent in by Angela Wilkinson

The Night Angel

* Sent in by Nancy Wainwright

I’d had a really difficult pregnancy and had felt sick and weak from the very start.  It was my second child and this pregnancy was very different from the first.  It had me worried.  My obstetrician assured me that the baby was fine and all was going according to plan.  Still I felt concerned.

My husband and I prepared the nursery as I edged closer towards the due date.  We’d decided not to find out the gender of the baby so the room was decorated in a mixture of different colours.

I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and in my half-asleep/half-awake state I noticed a dim light under the nursery door.  Perplexed, I opened the door and before me stood a tall being with light omitting from it.  The light switch hadn’t been turned on and there was no light shining in through the windows.  It was this ‘thing’ that was glowing.  Time seemed to stand still as I stared in shock, awe and confusion. A blink later and it was gone and I was left standing in the dark.  I tried to convince myself that obviously I was dreaming, so made my way back to bed.  

The next morning I woke up still confused about what I’d seen.  I knew I saw something, but I had no idea what it was at that point.

The following night I again visited the bathroom round about the same time, and again I was confronted by the glowing being in my yet-to-be-born baby’s bedroom.  The crib was fully set up as the due date was nearing and I’d always been one to over-organize.  The ‘light being’, which I then chose to view as an angel, stood by the crib and I stood stock-still by the doorway. I felt a wave of energy go right through me, from head to toe.  I just knew intuitively at that moment that my baby would be born healthy and all would be fine.

The angel visited each night for the following nine nights, until the day my little baby boy Adrian was born.  The birth was hassle-free and relatively fast, and by the next day I was set to be released from hospital.

My first night home I lay in bed waking slowly in order to check, change and feed my new little one.  Upon nearing the nursery I saw that familiar glow from under the door.   I quietly opened the door and peeked in to see my friend the angel bending over a soundly-sleeping Adrian.  The angel seemed to turn to look at me, then vanished in a blink.  The room instantly darkened, and Adrian stirred.

Over time the angel’s visits became less frequent as Adrian grew, and by the time he was 12 months old the night angel stopped visiting us.

I’ve never experienced anything like it since, but I have felt very blessed and protected ever since.  I know that angels are real.

* Sent in by Nancy Wainwright

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Angels By My Side

* Sent in by Angela Hogan

Angels have always been very real to me, and I’ve been able to sense and see them for as long as I can remember.  In fact I see all kinds of entities and energies of the spiritual realm every day of my life, and to me it is just part of the package.

When I listen to my angels, guides and intuition all seems to fall into place for me.  I turn to them in times of both trouble and happiness and they are always with me.

My angels give me signs and signals when I need to pay attention to something or if I’m heading in the wrong direction, they guide me to make the best decisions and choices, and also alert me to danger or wrongs.  When out driving I always ask for protection for myself and all other road users, and ask them to deliver me to my destination safely and in good time.  When I go shopping I always ask for help to find what I need for the best prices.

I ask my angels to help me rest and sleep at night, and I ask them to help me with my work during the day.  When I’m looking for something or am having trouble finding what I’m looking for, I ask my angels to give me signs or clues as to its whereabouts.  Sometimes I am led intuitively and other times I can hear the answer audibly.

Sometimes the angels give me little fits to let me know that they are around me, such as heart-shaped stones and pebbles and white feathers.  I often find them in the most unusual of places, but I always know where and why they came from, and I always thank them and feel blessed upon receiving them.
With the wide-spread spiritual awakening taking place on the Earthplane at this time, hopefully more and more people will open themselves up to the reality of angels, Archangels and Ascended Masters and will allow them into their hearts and lives.

God Bless :)

* Sent in by Angela Hogan

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

The Old Miner’s Cottage

* Sent in by Steven Corsa

We were finally building our dream home, but weren’t allowed to park our caravan on our land during construction, so we had to rent an old, small miner’s cottage off site.

It was a creepy place from the start and my wife and kids weren’t too keen on staying there.  The cottage had a strange musty smell to it, and the rooms were dark and dingey.  The garden was well over-grown and encroached on the windows and doors of the house.  Due to costs we didn’t have much choice but to stay and make the best of it, knowing that we would have our own beautiful new home to look forward to.  And the sooner the better.

Strange events started shortly after our family moved in.  Like I kept finding the back door open in the mornings, even though I’d made sure to lock them securely each night.  We’d also hear footsteps in the kitchen in the middle of the night and quite often the toilet light would turn itself on and off and the toilet would flush once or twice during the night. 

It made us all a bit jittery and my two kids, Chris (13) and Shannon (11) wouldn’t get out of their beds at night.  In fact, none of us were all that game to wander around at night.  We left that to our ‘friend’ who appeared to share the cottage with us. We heard knocking on the windows, kitchen cupboards and drawers opening and closing, and at times we could sense when our resident ghost was around.

As a family we tried to ignore the occurrences as much as we could and just set about getting our house to lock-up stage so that we could move in.  All we could do was grin and bare it.
The disturbances around the house went on for the entire five months that we lived there, and although nothing ever truly frightening happened, it was still very disconcerting to know that the ghost of a dead person was hanging around, day and night.  

As a family we were more than relieved when our house was finally ready to move in and we said goodbye to the old miner’s cottage once and for all and there was no looking back.


* Sent in by Steven Corsa

Friday, June 14, 2013

Footsteps From Above

Sent in by Wendy Wright

About 15 years ago when I was doing my hairdressing apprenticeship, I’d left my country home and had come to the city to gain my qualifications and secure employment.  I rented a small one bedroom granny-flat and worked at the local eatery three nights a week.  

Everything was fine for the first six months or so and I was happy and content in my little home.  Then one night I heard footsteps running above me which had me a little perplexed as my granny-flat was single story.  The footsteps sounded light as though they belonged to children, and it sounded like there was more than just one or two of them.  I checked for possums and/or rats, but found nothing to give me any clues.

I could hear the footsteps regularly from that night onwards.  They would start up at about 8pm and continue until after 10pm.  On the nights I worked I would come home to the tail-end of the pitter-patter of running feet.  After a while the sound of running feet above just blended in with my daily life and I hardly gave it a second thought.

About two months after the running noises started, I was in my bedroom getting ready to turn in the for the night when suddenly I caught a glimpse of a small child, a young girl of about 6, standing in the corner.   But as soon as I turned my head to get a better look she was gone.
It certainly shook me up but I was determined not to let it stop me from having a good night’s sleep.  But I turned out to be wrong.  Very wrong.

Not long after dropping off to sleep I was woken by loud stomping coming from above.  “OY!” I yelled and the stomping stopped immediately.  I nodded off to sleep not long after, only to be woken again.  This time I was scared.  I tried to snap on the bedside lamp only to find that I couldn’t.  It was as if there was a weight on my chest, holding me down and I was frozen in place.  The next thing I knew my alarm was going off and it was morning.
I was pretty shaken up at the thought (or memory) of it and couldn’t shake a foreboding feeling for the rest of the day.

That night during my shift at the restaurant, a familiar face came in  -  Mrs Arnot and her family.  Mrs Arnot was seen as a local matriarch and the place always lit up when Mrs Arnot and her brood came in.  She was friends with the owner and always tipped the staff liberally.  Not only that but she was my landlady as she owned the property that my little granny-flat sat on.
Clearing the plates from the table, I shyly asked Mrs Arnot if I could speak with her privately at her convenience.  She happily followed me to the foyer and waited expectantly while I fumbled and mumbled.  I just didn’t know how to start or what to say.

Mrs Arnot smiled and nodded slowly at me.  “You’ve heard the footsteps haven’t you dear?”  All I could do was nod yes.

She then went on to tell me that a double-storey house once stood on the site where my granny-flat now was.  There had been a fire and the three children and their mother had perished.  Since the granny-flat was built there the footsteps and sometimes even voices had been heard by all the tenants throughout the years.

I went home that night with a different perspective and felt quite sorry for the family who played above me.  I did a little research and was given the name and number of a medium who specialized in helping spirits pass-over, so I arranged for her to visit the following week.

I can’t describe or tell you what happened because I left her to do her thing.  All I know is that I never heard the footsteps again and I hoped that the family were finally at peace.


* Sent in by Wendy Wright

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Strange Happenings at the Hospice

* Sent in by Elise Perch

Working as a nurse for the last 22 years I’ve seen my fair share of spooky experiences that’s for sure.  It used to freak me out when I first started, but nowadays on the wards but nowadays it has become so commonplace that I hardly even think about it.

My first experience was pretty freaky though, and I’ll admit that it frightened the heck out of me at the time.

Working night-shift I was on duty with one of the senior nurses, Marion, and we were in the nurses station.  A crashing sound came from down the hall, like the clattering of metal on metal.  I looked at Marion in shock, but she didn’t bat an eyelid.  I took off up the hallway looking for the cause of the noise.  I found utensils and three stainless steel bowls scattered on the floor, but no one in sight.  I placed the items on the bench, a little perplexed, and made my way to the nurse’s station.  Marion didn’t bother to ask, but I told her what I’d found.  She just smiled at me in a strange way.

Not twenty minutes later, the clattering sound rang out again, and again Marion didn’t flinch but continued on with her knitting.  I followed the noise and found the same utensils on the floor again.  But no one was around.  This time I placed the utensils in the sink so that there would be no way they could ‘slip’ off the bench again.

Imagine my shock when five or so minutes later I heard the clattering and clanging sound yet again.  I just couldn’t believe it.  Marion glanced at me and smiled.  “You may as well get used to it’, she said wryly.

And she was right.  I worked at that hospice for nearly six years and with just about every shift there was some kind of unusual/unnatural occurrence.  I just came to expect it every day.

When I have some more time up my sleeve I’ll send along some more of my experiences over the years.

* Sent in by Elise Perch

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The Bedside Angel

* Sent in by Chloe

I never really thought much about angels and stuff like that, but I was in for a pleasant surprise.

In my early twenties I married and quickly had two little boys, Gavin and Steven.  When Gavin was only a month or so old, I work for his night time feed.  His crib was in the corner of our bedroom and as I looked across I could see a light or rather a glow hovering near his cot. I blinked my eyes in the dark, thinking I was dreaming, but I could still clearly see the outline of whitish-bluish figure bending over a sleeping Gavin.

I felt a sense of shock, but not fear.  I sat perplexed, unsure of what to do.  Then Gavin stirred and woke, the light figure fading away in the darkness.  I then switched on my beside lamp and went about feeding and changing Gavin as normal.

Laying back down in bed once done, I wandered about what I’d seen and worried that it was a bad omen.

I witnessed this phenomenon most nights after that, and in time, rather than being concerned, I felt supported and grateful for the presence each night and I believed that Gavin was being protected by what I assumed to be an angel.

Two years later little Steven was born and the same angel came nightly just as with Gavin.
My boys are now grown with children of their own, but I’ll never forget the peaceful presence of the angel who visited each night.


* Sent in by Chloe

Jake’s Guardian Angel

* Sent in by Donna S

My husband Greg and I had lived in our neighbourhood for over twenty years and had seen many families come and go over the years.

One Spring a couple with a toddler moved in next door.  Over  time, Greg and I became very fond of the little family next door and would joyfully look after young Jake whenever needed.  He was such a cheerful little mite and we loved his cheeky grin and natural curiousity.  At 3 years old he we a clever and social little chap.

One afternoon as Greg was about to leave for the shops, I had a sudden urge to stop him.  I didn’t know why, but I just felt I needed to.  I stepped outside just as he was about to reverse down the driveway, but thankfully he caught my wave and stopped on the spot.

I scurried to the driver’s side window and Greg looked at me expectantly.  I didn’t know what to say exactly because at that point I had no idea why I’d stopped him in the first place.

All of a sudden we both heard a big loud bang from out of nowhere.  I quickly looked around for the source of the noise and making my way to the back of the car my heart skipped a beat.  Little Jake was sitting on the driveway playing with a bug, only a metre or so from the back of the car.  There was no way that Greg would have seen him had he backed down the driveway.

I don’t know what prompted me to stop Greg or what or who made that loud noise that day .... but I am sure that Jake’s guardian angel was watching over him that day.

* Sent in by Donna S

Monday, June 10, 2013

The Ghost-Girl in the Grey Cape

* Sent in by Lucy Coles

My parents separated when I was very young, and I’d often fall asleep in my mother’s bed with the lights on because I hated the dark.  Once I was sound asleep, Mum would carry me to my own bed where I’d generally sleep peacefully till morning.

One night though, I woke up to find myself in my own room, in my own bed, in the dark.  The lights were turned off, but somehow I could see a blonde girl, a little older than myself, standing at the foot of my bed.  It was like she was standing under a spotlight or something because I could see her clearly.  But the rest of the room was dark.  She was wearing a cape or something with a grey hood.  As I sat up on bed, rooted to the spot, I watched as the girl simply vanished.  She just faded away to nothing and the light dimmed as she left.  For some reason, although I was shocked, I wasn’t really all that scared.

I thought straight away that she was a ghost, and at 8 years old, I was young enough to assume that seeing ghosts was normal because it wasn’t the first time for me.  I thought that my bedroom was probably once hers.

I came to accept her visits to my room just about every night, and she became a part of my life.  I felt comforted by her nightly visits and found that I slept more soundly on the nights that she came.

We moved out of that house three years later and I was never visited by the girl in the grey cape again.  I’d never told anyone about her, until last year when my family gathered for my mother’s 50th birthday.  Talk drifted to our history and the places we’d lived in.  I piped up and told my story of my visiting ghost-girl.  My Mum just about choked on her tea, and my older sister Kylie turned white, frozen in shock with her mouth open. Once she regained her voice, Kylie went on to tell us that she would encounter the caped girl-ghost in the bathroom every night while brushing her teeth prior to bedtime.

Then Mum chipped in with her own stories of seeing the ghostly-girl in the kitchen every time she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and grab a drink.

We never discovered who the ghost-girl in the grey cape actually was, and the house has since been demolished and units built in its place.  I sometimes wonder if the girl in the grey cape visits the people who live there now, all these years later.

Sent in by Lucy Coles

Grandma Eileen

* Sent in by Amii

I always loved it when my Grandma Eileen and Grandpa Doug would visit from the UK each year.  They would always come in the Spring time.  My own parents had honeymooned here in Queensland and never left, so half the family lived here and the other half back in Liverpool.  Every year Grandma Eileen would say how much she wished that she lived closer as the plane trip seemed longer and longer to her aging body.

Spring time always reminds me of the smell of baking cakes, slices, biscuits and scones.  Grandma Eileen was an avid cook and especially enjoyed baking for everyone.

When I was 13 my family moved back to Liverpool to be closer to Grandma and Grandpa as they both needed care.  I dropped in on them everyday after school on my way home and would stay to help eat any freshly-baked biscuits or slices that Grandma had made during the day.  In quick time the smell of baked goods became synonymous with my daily life.

The years passed and everyone got older with time.  I moved out of home and back-packed through Europe and Asia, ending up back in Australia to marry an Aussie guy I’d met on my travels.  I missed my family back in Liverpool, but loved the Aussie sun, beaches and lifestyle.

I came home from work early one afternoon and could smell apple-cinnamon tea cake before I’d even unlocked the front door.  The very smell threw my mind back in time to when I’d be greeted by drifting wafts of all kinds of delectable goods, all care of my Grandma Eileen.
I rushed down the hall to the kitchen, somehow expecting to find Grandma at the bench, baking tray in hand.

Instead, the kitchen was cold and dark, and the delicious smell was instantly gone.  I felt a little bereft and disappointed, although how I could have expected a visit was beyond me, as both she and Grandpa were now in a nursing home and well beyond flight travel age.

I went about my nightly routine, and noticed the light blinking on the answering machine attached to the landline phone on the hallstand.  I pressed the play button to hear my clearly distraught mother tell me that my dear Grandma Eileen had passed over in the last hour.  I quickly rang her back, then made arrangements for flights to the UK to make it in time for Grandma’s funeral.

Stepping back into the kitchen to make myself a quick cup of tea, I was hit with the distinctive smell of muffins with berry sauce.  I stopped and smiled to myself.

“Hello and Goodbye Grandma ....”


* Sent in by Amii

Our Unseen Visitor

* Sent in by Kylie S.

One evening while my husband Bradley was out at his weekly bowling game, and my two daughters were asleep in their beds, I was sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine when someone cuffed me on the back of the head.  I just about jumped out of my skin in shock as I looked around to find who it could have been.  But I was totally alone in the room.

Several days later, my eldest daughter Caroline said that someone or something had been in her bedroom, and that she could hear footsteps walking around, but there was no one there.

I knew that Caroline wasn’t one to make up stories, so after this happening three nights in a row, I decided to move her into the spare room, hoping that things would stop.

We’d decided not to tell my youngest daughter Gabby for fear of scaring her, but that didn’t last too long as she was the next to encounter our unseen visitor.

I’d just finished up washing the dinner dishes when Gabby came screaming out of her room, wailing like a siren.  She flew into the kitchen and straight into my arms and blubbered about hearing someone knocking on her desk as she was doing her homework.  She didn’t see anyone, but the knocking was right next to her and she said she could feel the banging on the desk as she sat there.  I reassured her that all was okay, although I wasn’t too sure myself.

I was next in line again, and lying in my bed a few nights later the windchimes hanging above my dressing table started playing all by themselves.  The window was closed and there was no valid reason for their ongoing clanging.  I tried to ignore it, and after 10 minutes or so the chimes stopped just as quickly as they started.

These spooky events went on for another two months or so, until one day we came home to a disgusting stench coming from the kitchen.  I thought something somewhere had gone off, so we searched right through the pantry, cupboards and fridge, but nothing could be found.

A few hours later the smell disappeared and all of the strange happenings seemed to stop along with it.

We never figured out what went on there, but are pleased its never happened again.


* Sent in by Kylie S.

Lady Adelaide’s Bedroom

* Sent in by Carly Simpson

When I was in my early twenties I went on a trip with my parents and younger sister Yvonne, to visit family (Aunt Jilly) in countryside England.  Sight-seeing was a main part of our agenda.

Following along with the tourist crowds, we visited a huge old country manor, scantily refurbished and in the process of repair and restoration.

My father decided to take a break, so planted himself on a garden bench while the rest of us proceeded with the tour.

Yvonne, my mother Joan and myself wandered along with the tour group, going from room to room, listening the guide talking about the manor’s ancient history.  But I noticed as we approached different rooms, I was sure I heard voices that instantly stopped the moment the door was opened.  Yvonne said she’d heard them too.  Mum seemed oblivious to what we were hearing it seemed.  I was sure there was some kind of presence around us.

The tour guide threw open the next door down the long hallway, announcing that it had once belonged to Lady Adelaide, and that everything was just as she’d left it all those many years ago.

Yvonne, my mum Joan and I shuffled to take a peek into the room while the rest of the group wandered forward onto the next item of interest.

As I looked into the room I was sure that I saw a flicker of movement in front of the heavily guilded mirror sitting atop the old dresser.  I looked away then looked back quickly and was sure I caught another glimpse.  I could hear a rustling sound, then all of a sudden the wardrobe door flew open.  I wasn’t sure what happened after that because my feet were taking me back down the hallway out the way we came in, then out into the garden in a flash  -  Mum and Yvonne hot on my heels.

Dad sat pop-eyed as we three fled across the lawn towards him.  We didn’t stop to explain, but grabbed his hand on the way past and made our way quickly to the carpark, then back to Aunt Jilly’s, to safety.

I know it sounds silly now, but at the time, we were scared stupid!

Sent in by Carly Simpson

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Clouds - Faces and Images

What do YOU see?


For more photos see:
Faces in the Clouds and Cloud Images

and:  Spirits in the Sky - faces in clouds


All photographs were taken and are copyrighted/owned by Arthur Bussure and 
Joanne Walmsley 
(Joanne - Sacred Scribes)