Thursday, December 15, 2005

Christmas Ghost

In the "Spirit" of Christmas here is an interesting story I found on


True holiday tales of ghosts, phantoms and time slips

THE FESTIVE, cheerful Christmas season, so infused with goodwill, is not immune to the paranormal and ghosts. Just ask Ebenezer Scrooge. Weird, unexplained, and downright eerie events take place just as often this time of year. In fact, the people who experience them might be more apt to remember them because of the association with the holiday.

Santa White Noise

Children aren’t immune either. While they might have visions of sugar plums, Santa Claus and piles of presents dancing in their heads, they are sometimes witness to apparitions that are not visiting from the North Pole. Richard was just six on Christmas Eve in 1976, eagerly awaiting the special morning and having a hard time falling asleep.

“Perhaps helping contribute to my sleeplessness,” Richard recalls, “I had a full-on view from my bed of the [Christmas] tree all lit up in glowing splendor.

distinctly remember trying to go to sleep. I may have even fallen asleep, but then for whatever reason I awoke. As I opened my eyes I was riveted to the scene.

“I saw something bending over the presents. It was a short figure about one or two feet tall and composed entirely of what I can only describe as white noise (the kind of static you get on a TV channel that has no signal). It just stood there, motionless. It was quite clearly there. However, when I rubbed my eyes to address an itch, the figure had disappeared. Whatever it was, perhaps I'm one of the few people who actually can claim to have seen a real Santa Claus.”

Christmas Eve Spirit

DeeDee saw a ghost on Christmas Eve, too, when she was 15 years old. She was staying at her grandparents’ house with her family, siblings and cousins. “The little ones and the adults all went to bed fairly early,” DeeDee says, “but my cousins, siblings and I stayed up a little later than we were supposed to.

“Everybody decided that it was time to turn in, so we made our way downstairs and hopped into bed. We were all just lying there chatting with the light off and the door closed when I looked over and saw a figure in the shape of a boy of about 11 standing in front of the doorway. I immediately assumed it was my brother (who was 11 at the time) and told him to get to bed. My 11-year-old brother replied, ‘Ahhh, I AM in bed.’ I looked down and could see his face. Everybody else in the room then confirmed that they were also in their beds as well. I looked up again and saw that the figure was still there.

“‘Well then, who is that?’ I said and pointed toward the door. And no sooner had I said it than the figure vanished into the darkness. Needless to say, we ALL slept on the mattress on the floor that night.” Christmas music and carols seem to be in the air everywhere in the weeks preceding the holiday, but they usually have a logical source. Usually... but perhaps not always.

In 1986, ten-year-old Polin was hanging out in his room one night with his cousin, who always came to visit around Christmas time. “On this evening, we started to hear what we thought were the neighbors out singing Christmas carols,” Polin vividly remembers. “The sound of the singing was getting louder and louder as, I assumed, the carolers approached our house. In fact, they were singing my favorite Christmas song, ‘Do You Hear What I Hear.’ Interested to see, my cousin and I dashed to the window and started to look out into the dark night. What we saw, or should I say, didn't see was beyond words.

Although the singing continued to get louder, there was no one outside! We went to other windows in the house to see better, but still there was no one in sight. We just stared at each other in disbelief. The eerie singing slowly began to fade, as if the invisible carolers were walking past our house.

“I kept telling [my cousin] there had to be a logical explanation for what we heard, but there was not. No radio, TV or other devices were on in our house. Later, we asked some of the neighbors if they were playing Christmas carols that evening. They quickly confirmed our fear when they said no. Needless to say, the song is no longer a favorite of mine.”
Time-Traveling Car

Memories of our childhood Christmases and the notaligic “tales of Christmases long, long ago” can transport us back in time to relive those happy moments. Occasionally, perhaps, some of us can find ourselves caught literally in a time warp. Jane had such an unnerving experience when she was hurriedly doing last-minute Christmas shopping... and the stores were soon closing.

“I saw an antique store I wanted to go to, but couldn't find the parking space I wanted on the back side of the street,” Jane says. “Giving up, I parked on the main side and got out looking at a ‘sale’ sign on the sidewalk. Crunching through the snow, I walked to the end of the building and found the perfect gift.

“I came out of the end of the building, turned the corner and headed down the street toward my car – which wasn't there! At all! My mouth dropped open and I just stared. My footprints were still in the snow where I'd gotten out, paused and looked at the ‘sale’ sign, but no car. It was now 5:30, and as I looked up and down the street, every store window was dark. No place was open for me to call the police and report my car had been stolen.

“I began to get frantic, pacing up and down, wondering where I could find a phone. Maybe there was one around the corner! Around I walked, and no phone. But there was a gray Monte Carlo that looked just like mine. I walked slowly up to it and it looked the same. I tried the key and the door unlocked. By now I was almost hysterical and started crying. I almost couldn't remember how to even drive back to my house.

“Did my ‘wishing’ make it so – wanting to park back there in the first place? Guess I'll never know.”

Time Glitch
Erin also had an unexplainable time slip. Back in 1996, the 16-year-old was on Christmas vacation in Ocean City, New Jersey. It was a freezing cold, dark December day.

“My dad and I decided to take a ride over to the boardwalk and explore the barren shops and carnival rides,” Erin recalls. “There was not one other soul on that boardwalk. We had walked about a half mile up the boardwalk, when we noticed someone coming toward us. The closer he came, we realized it was just someone jogging. We watched him come toward us. As we were getting ready to say hello, he passed and we smiled, and he just kind of stared at us.

“Then something totally bizarre happened. About four seconds later, I looked up and that same jogger was about 20 feet ahead of us again, coming toward us, like he had never passed. I was very confused at first, so I looked behind me to see if the first jogger was still running, but there was nothing behind us. I could tell my dad was going through the same questioning because he was looking behind us, too. So the jogger coming toward us was passing us again, the exact same guy, with the same clothes, the same strange empty stare! The same guy!

“There was no way he could have run back, pass us, turn around and come back toward us in such a short time, without us seeing. If it was a second jogger who looked exactly the same, then we would have seen him coming along with the other jogger; he was only about 20 feet behind the first jogger. We also would have seen the first jogger behind us when we turned around.

“To this day we both think something supernatural occurred, we just don’t know what it was.”

Everybody loves Santa – that jolly old elf. To most of us he represents much of what’s joyful, thrilling and hopeful about the season. Rafael, however, had a terrifying experience with an entity that can only be termed the anti-Santa.

“I was 10 years old, and it was a stormy night on Christmas Eve,” Rafael says. “I was lying in bed, unafraid of the storm raging. Suddenly, as lighting flashed, a dark figure was lit up in the sky, and it looked a lot like a chariot driven by many ‘horned horses.’ This stirred up my old belief in Santa Claus, but I dismissed it because I'd found my parents writing on the presents from ‘Santa’ two years earlier. Another bolt of lighting ripped across the sky and the figure was gone.

“Suddenly, another bolt of lighting flashed accompanied by booming thunder. sat upright, and looked around the room. There, in the corner on my chair, was a fat figure. He looked up with bloodshot eyes and growled, ‘Hello, sonny. You've been a naughty boy.’ I remember he said the word ‘naughty’ in a ferocious tone, and it scared the hell out of me.

“He stood up and he was suddenly illuminated by my desk light. He was fat, with a bushy white beard, red rosy cheeks, plus the jolly red suit, but his eyes were bloodshot and he had clawed hands and clawed feet sticking out of torn boots.

“I was about to scream, but he jumped on me and pushed me against the wall. He was too strong, and I couldn't struggle free, but somehow, I managed to pry my face from his gruesome hands, and I managed a loud scream for a couple of seconds. The ‘Santa’ grabbed my throat and squeezed, and just as I was blacking out, my parents came running in. I just saw them burst through the door as I went out cold.

“The next morning, my parents told me I had been screaming and I was pressed against the wall for absolutely no reason, but my neck was bruised and I had scratch marks on my chest. I went to have it checked out, but we never found the cause. I never saw the Evil Santa again, but that sure as hell made me question whether or not he really exists, and whether he is good or evil.”

Ghost Wanted to Play

Christmas memories can live with us forever. For a child, almost nothing can compare to the powerful feelings of anticipation, joy and togetherness. Do these strong emotions live on even after death? Kirstien’s experience suggests that they might. When she was seven, her family had just moved into a new house. Every morning she would sit on the bottom step of the home’s staircase with her cornflakes, waiting for the postman to arrive.

“Whilst I was waiting, I sometimes held my cornflakes box as a steering wheel and pretended the stairs were a bus,” Kirstien remembers. “My brother was downstairs, my mum was in the kitchen, and my dad was away at sea. So no one was upstairs. I sensed someone staring at me, and as I turned around, there was a little girl ‘riding in the back of my bus,’ standing at the top of the stairs. I stared at her for a few seconds then stood up. As I wandered down my hall, she wandered off around the corner.

“I didn't see her again for a few months. It was getting close to Christmas and we had just brought giant stockings. I laid mine on the floor ready for Christmas Eve. On Christmas morning, I awoke and the little girl was bent down at my stocking, peering inside. She stood up and walked toward my bed. She got on her knees and crawled underneath.

“I started screaming and my mum ran in. She checked under my bed and there was nothing there. Who was this little girl? My mum decided to check it out and we got a priest into our house. He blessed the upstairs and everywhere else. From this point I thought all was ok.

“A couple of weeks passed. My mum was at the top of my garden and she called for me to bring up the pegs. I went into the back toilet and the little girl was standing about a foot away staring at me. She looked upset and angry. I walked back slowly and so did she (perhaps copying me). She wore a frilly nightgown with a red ribbon to the side of her head. My mum went online and checked the history of the house. This girl was called Jayla Anne Misgorth. When she was six, she watched as her younger brother fell down the stairs and died. She was only looking for someone else to play with.”

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