So this incident took place a long time ago, when I was a freshman in high school. It's late one Tuesday night, maybe two in the morning, and I'm in my room doing homework when I hear the phone ring in my paren't bedroom down the hall. I hear my mom say something along the lines of, "Calm down, what's going on, what's wrong?" So naturally, I walk down to their room and ask what's up.

The family across the street and down one house in the town I used to live in were friends of ours, I went to school with their boys and our parents would often get together for drinks and to play cards. This is the week after the deer opener, so the mother of the family was home by herself until Thursday, when her sons and husband were scheduled to return from up North. My mom said nothing was wrong, but was getting out of bed and making her way downstairs...

I followed her to the front door, where she met the woman, who was in tears and crying so hard she must have been having trouble breathing. When she calmed down she said she was startled awake by the sound of a baby crying in a bedroom down the hall from hers. She says she went to investigate, and when she reached the doorway to poke her head inside the noise started coming from the opposite end of the hall, where she had just come from. Returning there, she says it then seemed to be coming from downstairs, at which point she freaked out and called our house. A little while later she told us that she had a miscarriage a year previous, and I remember my mom driving her to the hospital one afternoon as I returned from baseball practice. She (mom) told me that the woman had cut twisted her ankle.

The woman refused to go home, and stayed at our house until her husband and sons returned. True story, I shit you not. Hearing a baby crying is probably the scariest sound I could imagine ever hearing, and the scene in Blair Witch, as I posted in another thread, where they hear it in the woods in the middle of the night was enough to make my blood run cold. I believe I was the one grabbing my date's hand harder at that one.


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Another story I'd like to share involves the house I live in, or rather, the fraternity house I live in which is supposebly haunted by a member who died here on October 17, 1971; a senior at UND named Tony. When myself and a few buddies pledged here, we heard stories of a tragic fire that happened in the seventies that not only destroyed most of the house, but claimed the lives of a member and his fiancee. The fire started around six AM in Tony's basement apartment, which is now our laundry room. It spread so quickly that he didn't even have enough time to warn all the sleeping members before the flames had spread to the foyer, blocking the front doors. People were climbing out windows and sliding down drain pipes to escape. After everyone was out, Tony looked around but did not see his fiancee, who, as it turned out, was on the back side of the house unbeknownst to him.

He ran back inside and down to the basement to his room, and apparently choked to death on the smoke because his body was found at the bottom of the basement stairs, where our letters are inscribed into the floor. Hearing that Tony had gone back inside, his fiancee ran in to find him, and must have passed by him as the stairs collapsed behind her, because she was found in a storage closet at the far end of the basement, and died in the hospital two days later. Thinking that since we were pledges (or donkeys, as the older guys had taken to calling us, and the name sticks to following classes to this day), the older guys were just trying to fuck with us. So we went to the campus library and found all of the Grand Forks Herald newspapers on microfilm, the October 18th issue showing the charred shell of the front of our house on the front page. The story behind the hauntings was true, so what now?

Every older member here has their story of when they had a run in with Tony, and I had my first the other Friday night. I was walking up the stairs from the basement, as I had been in the kitchen fixing a snack, and as I walked I heard what sounded at first like my footsteps echoing, but then the sounds became more staggered and it began to sound like someone was walking up the stairs behind me. The difference was enough to make me jump involuntarily as I reached the foyer, getting the attention of another guy who was in the adjacent room studying. He asked me what was up and shrugged when I told him what I thought had just happened, saying, "I wouldn't worry, Tony won't hurt you. He's our brother."

Maybe a half an hour after this, my hands were still shaking slightly as I stood on the porch with a few other guys talking. I told the guy next to me about my incident, and he freaked out, claiming that the same thing happened to him a week earlier as he was walking back up from the kitchen at three AM, alone. He literally ran from the foyer back to his room and slept with all the lights on. We both stayed up all night that night thinking of ways to make my video camera watch the basement all night, every night of the week to see of we could capture anything on film. If we get anything, I'll post it here.

Other things happen often too, especially around this time of year. Lights turn on and off, people hear footsteps in the hallway and look out to see nothing there, kitchen doors slam shut and open, and people claim to feel cold drafts in the basement, which is always hot due to the kitchen and boiler room and has no ventilation save for the vent above the stove in the far back area of the kitchen. During ceremonies, I've witnessed candles set up in this basement just flicker and die for no reason, as there's no airflow and no one was moving around them. Apparently, a few years ago some girl came upstairs from the basement (where the girls bathroom is) and told some older members about this guy she met and played a game of foosball with in the basement. She said he told her his name was Tony, and she then described him right down to his odd sideburns. When they went downstairs to investigate, the basement was empty and the kitchen door leading outside in the back was still locked up and deabolted. The girl never came back to the house, and apparently she graduated my freshman year so I probably won't get the chance to ask her about it.

This year on the night of the 17th, my roommate and I are going to camp out in the basement with my video camera and see if anything out of the ordinary happens.


Anyone else have any true, wierd stories they'd like to share? I apologize if this thread already exists, I haven't had a chance to go through them all yet.


edit: I'm thinking of doing a mini-documentary on this house and its supposed haunting as my first editing assignment for a digital video class I'm taking. Does that sound like something anyone here would be interested in? If all else fails and we capture nothing real on film, I could easily turn it into a based - on - a -true - story Blair Witch type of deal...

I like it, I like it alot. That camp out idea sounds great, I would recomend using a IR camcorder and a regular one to see what you can find.

Near where I grew up in New Hope, PA there's a covered bridge that everyone swears is haunted. A few different myths go along with it, but it's most commonly referred to as "Crybaby's Bridge". The story behind it is that an unwanted child was drowned by her mother. It's said that if you go to the bridge you have to walk across it in both directions or meet a horrible fate. The typical covered bridge schpiel. The interesting part of the whole legend is that if you put a piece of candy in the middle of the span, walk back the same way you came. Then walk back out to the middle the candy will be gone and you will hear a childs laughter.

In all the years of living near that bridge I never did try the candy schtick. Mainly cause the candy never actually made the journey to the bridge without being eaten. Maybe some day I'll get around to tryin' it.

Mmm, geeze I've got a lot of intersting stories but most of them after so much time I can chalk up to an overactive imagination. There are several good legends around the Orlando area and a dozen more from the small town in PA I grew up in, but perhaps the most real story I have is what has become known as "Oh screw you I am NOT going down that road again" story. Which is also known as "Rimms Road" which is located on the backside of the Disney World Property.

I'd heard the stories about Rimms Road all the time when I was working for Disney but never put much stock into them. I told a few friends about the 'legeneds' and so one night we all deside to go down that way, I was driving a friends car since I was the only one who knew where it was. We found a good spot and pulled over and just...waited. That night was totally uneventful, not a damn thing happened.
A few nights later I recounted the very dull story for my friend Jen, well later that night we felt that the two of us could go out there and get much better results. Out we head, this time in my car (Now keep in mind this is no small car, it was a 95 Z28 Camaro.. not small and not overly light either) down to Rimms Road once again. I find the exact same spot that I pulled over in the time before, and it went downhill in a hand basket from that point on.
Nothing felt right that night, we where both very antsy about being there. Now this road is a small two-lane back road, that borders a national forest so the brush on the side of the road is very over grown and wild. So as I said something was seriously wrong at this point, we didn't know what but it was totally silent. About ten or so seconds later we heard a growling sound off the the passengers side of the car, so what do we do? We look!
Nothing, the palm brush is shaking something horrible though like a bear was there and ready to charge us (we don't have wild bear down that way either). Moments later the "thing" as we called it leaped out of the brush and slammed into the side of my car, problem was the palm brush opened like something was leaping but nothing was there we where staring right at it.
Now this ROCKED my car something bad, I mean it rocked the shit out of that poor car almost like someone had hit it with a car. We both got jolted to the left side.

Needless to say we didn't waste two seconds getting out of there, it was a Z28 camaro and I used it well that night. The car hit drive and I was out of there as quickly as I could push that car, I think by the time I hit the interstate again I was doing about 110. After that we pulled into a gas station to inspect the damage (no way in hell I was going to check it there!) and there was NOT ONE SCRATCH on that car. Not a damn thing, it was perfect. The same way it was when I drove it out of the driveway that night, not a damn thing. Which we couldn't believe considering how hard "it" hit us. Completely frazzled and scared half to death we drove back to the apartment and turned on every light and broke open a bottle of Vodka.

Later I asked a few friends about it, the legend around the area and the "thing" is that when Disney built on the land that way they disturbed an indian burrial ground and paid no respect to the fact and just kept up with construction. The "thing" is said to be the avenger of the indian tribe who is out to avenge the cruel way they're remains where treated and protect what is left. In Florida there is one rule, you never ever screw with indian burrial grounds- bad shit happens when you do.

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I've been back to Rimms Road several times (and years) later and while now I cannot drive threw the area without feeling that same eerie "something is not kosher here" feeling nothing has ever happened like this again. Though I do swear you can feel something watching you when you slow down or pull your car over.


What about them apples eh?