Post by "Mysti" on Jul 16, 2005 15:54:16 GMT -5
I'm not if this is what actually got me started in being involved with the paranormal, but I do know it's what has kept me involved. Mainly because at the age I was when it occured, most people aren't supposed to remember. But I think that the memory of the Coathanger house will stay with me forever.
My parents and I moved into a small 2 story farm house located in southern Iowa when I was around 18 (+ or -) months old. My mom was pregnant with my sister and we aren't quite 2 years apart in age. When we moved in my parents went through and did the usual clean up (probably not as common now as it was then) and when they went to clean the upstairs there were coathangers strewn all over the floors of the bedrooms upstairs.
The house we moved into sat directly infront of the owner's house (who also happened to be my babysitter) I don't really remember much about their house other than it was HUGE and I was terrified of it. So much so that the lady had to take me out during the days she sat for me because I screamed and panicked whenever they took me into the house, and she WOULDN'T go into our's, that was her husbands job.
My parents cleaned up all of the coathangers and placed them back into the closets and we went down stairs. Shortly after that there was a big commotion upstairs and I guess they assumed it was a falling box or something so my dad went upstairs, and then yelled for my mom to come up, of course me on her heels. Everything boxes, ect. were still like they'd been left stacked but all of the coathangers were thrown around all over the place again. Needless to say my parents weren't happy but this time I was innocent because I couldn't go upstairs alone.
So once again they cleaned up all the hangers then closed all the closet doors, then went through and made sure all the windows were closed. Again we went downstairs and again there was a commotion so this time we all went up. As I sat watching my parents "discuss" the happenings I saw an old man standing there watching them also. I talked some at that time but apparently my parents were to busy with their discussion to pay attention to what I was saying about the old man. This incident occurs several more times that day and evening, so my dad decided the upstairs was OFF LIMITS.
Infact the next day he went so far as to install a padlock on the door then moved our big old fold out hide a bed couch over infront of the door leading upstairs to make sure nobody went up there. My dad would go there during the day time only, and never alone to remove our stuff that was placed up there originally. I guess my dad thought that locking and blocking the door would stop whatever was happening, but it didn't.
It was an every day thing to hear things upstairs being thrown around (specifically the coathangers), but it didn't stop there either. The old man didn't just stay upstairs, I would see him walking through the down stairs part of the house but he never scared me. And I don't think he ever really bothered my mom, although in later years she did say that she never saw him but she did feel his presence and get spooked by him on occasion.
The old man was always downstairs roaming the house when it was just my mom and me there, and most times I would talk to him or sit at giggle about things he was doing. It was still an everyday thing for the coathanger issue upstairs but otherwise it was calm. At least until my dad changed shifts at work.
At first my dad had been working graveyard but because my mom was pregnant and couldn't drive he had to change to shifts, so he'd be home and awake for taking her to Dr. appt's. ect. (I know now that he wished he'd never changed shifts) so until then he hadn't been in the house at night. And it was then that things got a little bit stranger, because for some readon the old man didn't like my dad.
A couple nights after the shift change my dad and I were sitting on the couch watching tv when all of a sudden he jumped up off of it like his ass was on fire, and he was yelling, screaming and cussing at my mom for her pouring ice water or something down his back (it's a long story, but my parents weren't Ozzie & Harriet) so my mom was yelling back at him for being an idiot because she was busy in the kitchen which happened to be across and infront of where the couch was. Which happened to be on the wall infront of the door to the upstairs, my dad was freezing but he wasn't wet. (good thing for my mom)
Well my dad sat back down and I climbed back up beside him, then we all heard a BIG crash upstairs then heard something coming down the stairs fast, and from the sound of it you could tell it wasn't something small. My dad turned towards the door just in time to get hit with another cold blast so strong that he flew off the couch (this time I didn't see anything, & I don't think it was the old man) and that time he knew it wasn't my mom. Needless to say that was the straw that broke the camels back, and we left that night.
I dreamed about this house for years (infact I still do) and I was always asking my parents about it. The answer I still get to this day from my dad is I don't want to talk about it or I don't remember, PERIOD end of the subject. My mom did finally decide to talk to me about it and admit that yes we had lived in the house, she just can't understand how I can recall it because of how young I was when we lived there.
I told her the reason that I can remember was because of the old man there he was my friend and he never wanted to hurt us, he just didn't like dad. As I said my parents weren't Ozzie & Harriet infact far from it. And although the old man scared them both (my dad more than mom) I think he (the old man) was actually trying to protect us. And to this day, almost 40 years later I still never once remember being scared or afraid of him.
Infact even now I find myself wondering what it was that happened to him, and who he was. I think he was a guardian angel although his ways were not the typical type. He may have been someone to fear in my parents opinions, but I'll always think of him in all my positive way as the funny old man that made me laugh, and who was also as my friend.
My parents and I moved into a small 2 story farm house located in southern Iowa when I was around 18 (+ or -) months old. My mom was pregnant with my sister and we aren't quite 2 years apart in age. When we moved in my parents went through and did the usual clean up (probably not as common now as it was then) and when they went to clean the upstairs there were coathangers strewn all over the floors of the bedrooms upstairs.
The house we moved into sat directly infront of the owner's house (who also happened to be my babysitter) I don't really remember much about their house other than it was HUGE and I was terrified of it. So much so that the lady had to take me out during the days she sat for me because I screamed and panicked whenever they took me into the house, and she WOULDN'T go into our's, that was her husbands job.
My parents cleaned up all of the coathangers and placed them back into the closets and we went down stairs. Shortly after that there was a big commotion upstairs and I guess they assumed it was a falling box or something so my dad went upstairs, and then yelled for my mom to come up, of course me on her heels. Everything boxes, ect. were still like they'd been left stacked but all of the coathangers were thrown around all over the place again. Needless to say my parents weren't happy but this time I was innocent because I couldn't go upstairs alone.
So once again they cleaned up all the hangers then closed all the closet doors, then went through and made sure all the windows were closed. Again we went downstairs and again there was a commotion so this time we all went up. As I sat watching my parents "discuss" the happenings I saw an old man standing there watching them also. I talked some at that time but apparently my parents were to busy with their discussion to pay attention to what I was saying about the old man. This incident occurs several more times that day and evening, so my dad decided the upstairs was OFF LIMITS.
Infact the next day he went so far as to install a padlock on the door then moved our big old fold out hide a bed couch over infront of the door leading upstairs to make sure nobody went up there. My dad would go there during the day time only, and never alone to remove our stuff that was placed up there originally. I guess my dad thought that locking and blocking the door would stop whatever was happening, but it didn't.
It was an every day thing to hear things upstairs being thrown around (specifically the coathangers), but it didn't stop there either. The old man didn't just stay upstairs, I would see him walking through the down stairs part of the house but he never scared me. And I don't think he ever really bothered my mom, although in later years she did say that she never saw him but she did feel his presence and get spooked by him on occasion.
The old man was always downstairs roaming the house when it was just my mom and me there, and most times I would talk to him or sit at giggle about things he was doing. It was still an everyday thing for the coathanger issue upstairs but otherwise it was calm. At least until my dad changed shifts at work.
At first my dad had been working graveyard but because my mom was pregnant and couldn't drive he had to change to shifts, so he'd be home and awake for taking her to Dr. appt's. ect. (I know now that he wished he'd never changed shifts) so until then he hadn't been in the house at night. And it was then that things got a little bit stranger, because for some readon the old man didn't like my dad.
A couple nights after the shift change my dad and I were sitting on the couch watching tv when all of a sudden he jumped up off of it like his ass was on fire, and he was yelling, screaming and cussing at my mom for her pouring ice water or something down his back (it's a long story, but my parents weren't Ozzie & Harriet) so my mom was yelling back at him for being an idiot because she was busy in the kitchen which happened to be across and infront of where the couch was. Which happened to be on the wall infront of the door to the upstairs, my dad was freezing but he wasn't wet. (good thing for my mom)
Well my dad sat back down and I climbed back up beside him, then we all heard a BIG crash upstairs then heard something coming down the stairs fast, and from the sound of it you could tell it wasn't something small. My dad turned towards the door just in time to get hit with another cold blast so strong that he flew off the couch (this time I didn't see anything, & I don't think it was the old man) and that time he knew it wasn't my mom. Needless to say that was the straw that broke the camels back, and we left that night.
I dreamed about this house for years (infact I still do) and I was always asking my parents about it. The answer I still get to this day from my dad is I don't want to talk about it or I don't remember, PERIOD end of the subject. My mom did finally decide to talk to me about it and admit that yes we had lived in the house, she just can't understand how I can recall it because of how young I was when we lived there.
I told her the reason that I can remember was because of the old man there he was my friend and he never wanted to hurt us, he just didn't like dad. As I said my parents weren't Ozzie & Harriet infact far from it. And although the old man scared them both (my dad more than mom) I think he (the old man) was actually trying to protect us. And to this day, almost 40 years later I still never once remember being scared or afraid of him.
Infact even now I find myself wondering what it was that happened to him, and who he was. I think he was a guardian angel although his ways were not the typical type. He may have been someone to fear in my parents opinions, but I'll always think of him in all my positive way as the funny old man that made me laugh, and who was also as my friend.
