**Ivylass, ** I was prepared to rationalize your son’s comment about Grandma…kids are quite astute and I thought perhaps that was his interpretation of something he overheard/noticed/whatever.
But the quote above literally gave me chills. :eek: How old is your son now?
My brother freaked out/entertained my parents the first time he sat down in a plane, when he was three, by looking out the window and saying calmly, “Fly to the sun without burning a wing.”
It was a quote from a Moody Blues song my dad played a lot…but it still bewildered them that he had paid so much attention to the song that he could pull it from memory, and relate it so rationally to the huge commercial airline he’d just entered.
Just wondering, did anyone else have experiences with clearly hearing a word spoken even though you were the only one in the house.
This happened to me a few times as a child (still remember it clearly enough though it happened decades ago). Usually it was my name, or ‘Hello’ or Hey or something along that lines.
'Course, I would then try to investigate (well, not that thoroughly, since I probably was somewhat worried), but would find nothing.
Maybe it was psychological, but I don’t know…
I was thinking more something like a couple of powerline transformers popping. racinchikki said it was during a heavy snow storm, right?
Heavy, wet snow sometimes seeps through the insulation of these things (especially when it’s cold and the rubber contracts) and they short out. They are quite spectacular to see, if you are fortunate to be looking right at one when it happens.
They can light up the night sky quite well, especially if there are a lot of snow flakes falling to diffuse the light flash.
The massive electrical discharge into the atmosphere would also explain the radio interference (especially if it was an AM radio station they were listening to at the time).
When I was four I was playing with this a knights and castles playset when I said ‘I lived in a castle once, but we had to move when the north tower was struck by lightning’. This stuck in my Mom’s head because she said my voice sounded strange. About eight years later my aunt returned from a trip to Germany with some pamphlets she got when visiting Castle MyLastName. It mentioned how it was almost continuously occupied for hundreds of years, except for a brief period after a fire caused by a lightning strike.
My Mom had a star sapphire ring that I was fascinated with when I was a child. One time, while looking at it, I told her I could remember when Dad gave it to her. She said I couldn’t, it was before I was born, and then I proceeded to describe in detail the Holiday Inn lobby my Mom was working at when my Dad surprised her with the ring.
I had a car stereo with a detachable face that got messed up when a soda can exploded in my car, getting syrup on the contacts. After a while I could not get it to come on at all, but almost every time I crossed a certain bridge the radio would come on and turn itself all the way up, which would scare the crap out of me until I got used to it and started expecting it.
Once, when I was a kid, I caught a ladybug and put it in a paper sack. I was disappointed to find out it had escaped. About an hour later I was at McDonalds, when the inside of my ear started itching, and then a ladybug crawled out of it.
I have been told by three separate sources that I scare away spirits.
My husband and I live in my late grandmothers house. My grandfather built this house for her in 1958 and after he died in 1984, she lived alone in the house until her death in April of 2000. Mr. Sylver and I moved in January of 2001. The house is one story, built on a full basement, which is unfinished, but is used for storage. Directly under our bedroom is the basement room that has an upright piano against the outside wall. As I lay in bed at night, I occasionally hear a sound like a piano key being hit. Ping!.. 10 seconds later… Ping! Always the same pitch, always one note at a time. Then it’ quiet again.
The first couple of times brought me straight out of bed, scared me senseless… First I thought it was the cat. No such luck, he sleeps on our bed and was present and accounted for. Then I thought we might have mice. No, thankfully, that wasn’t the problem either. I chalked it up as unexplainable, and didn’t let it bother me.
Finally, about a month ago I discovered what the sound was. And it wasn’t the piano.
We have hot water heat, and somehow, I don’t know the technical aspects of it, when the water would move through the pipes or changed temperature or something, the pipes would expand and the result was the Ping! I’d been hearing for the better part of last year. Strange, though combined with the typical house settling creaks and groans, we’ve had our share of freaked out houseguests.
I was at my morning class in college, and during a break I went to get some money from an ATM so I could buy some coffee.
I got a $5.00 bill out of the ATM.
In the center of the bill was a dime-sized, almost-brimming over spot of fresh blood. I touched it with my finger to make sure that’s what it was.
Fresh blood.
Sadly, I panicked, ran to the bathroom and scrubbed both my hand and the five-dollar bill until the blood was gone, worrying about diseases the whole time. Otherwise, I would’ve kept the bill.
It wouldn’t have been so strange if the blood were dry, or even if it were smeared. But how does that much fresh, unsmeared blood appear in an ATM?
My nephew had a huge plastic police car, about foot and a half long, tricked out with real headlights and red/blue flashers. It had buttons on it that you could press to make noise. One of the buttons would make the car say, very loudly, Slow down! Pull over! rrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, complete with flashing lights. It would somehow hide itself in dark corners where you would imperceptably brush against it in the dead of night. The loud voice followed by siren was sufficient to make one’s heart skip a few beats.
I actually liked that toy, so it didn’t “disappear” until it plumb wore out.
One fine day aboard the U.S.S. Nimitz, I was quite bored and I decided to do some exploring in a ventilation room that our department used for storage. The room was probably fifty feet on a side, but it was completely packed with enormous ducts and pipes – we only had a little sliver of the room available to put a desk and a tool box. There were vast portions of the room that could only be accessed by squeezing onesself over one pipe and under another and around something hot and so on. I made it the far back corner. I found a wide space beyond a tiny opening between two huge ducts. I could see that the lagging on the pipes had been compressed, where someone had slid through the gap once.
With much effort, I wriggled through the opening and found nothing exciting, until I looked at those odd blotches on the floor. Very dark blotches. Lots and lots of dark blobs. I chipped some of the stuff up and looked at it with my light: almost black, but it appeared brownish-orange when a light was shown through it: Blood!
What to do, what to do… There was a huge amount of it, covering the entire visible floor. Someone had surely come to grief in that back corner, or at least had a memorable moment. I retraced my path and found the nearest container for a sample, an empty cassette case, and then retrieved a few chips of the substance. I went to the Masters At Arms (a.k.a. police) and showed them my find. The guy gave it a careless glance and said “Nope, that’s not blood.” and sent me on my way.
I wasn’t satisfied. I figured that the stuff had been there for years, and I’m not a squeemish fellow, so I licked a chip. It tasted like dried blood.
One of my co-workers told me that it couldn’t be from some long-forgotten crime because that ventilation room had flooded several times in the recent past, and he could not remember any such events there since the flooding.
That’s the end of it. To this day I wonder what really happened there. Why didn’t the MAA care? How come the “evidence” wasn’t swept away when the room flooded? Was it really blood? Who was the unfortunate soul who provided it?
This happens to me, too! I’ll go upstairs to use the computer and it’s already dialed up (no DSL) and says it’s been dialled for many hours. My sister also says she sees my IM name online during the day when she knows I’m at work. It’s only ever happened at the house where we live now. Other things happen, too.
One December, in about 2nd grade, my parents give me a Chicago Bears winter hat. A month or two later, I lost it. I had no idea where it went or where I’d lost it. It had my name sewn onto the inside of it, but it didn’t turn up in the school lost & found. I don’t remember what I did for the rest of the winter - I probably used some inferior winter hat.
The next December, my parents gave me a new Chicago Bears winter hat. The first time that I wore it to school, I’d gone inside of the school with my class and put it into my coat pocket. We were walking through the hallways, when a classmate of mine who was a little weird came up to me with a Chicago Bears hat saying “you must’ve dropped this.” I took it from him and saw that it had my name in it. When no one else was paying attention to me, I checked my pocket and my new hat was still in there, with my name on it. So now I had two hats. I wish I’d asked the kid about it, but I didn’t say anything to anybody, and I think that I threw out the old hat and tried to forget about it.
So, either this kid was really weird, and he had 1) taken my hat, 2) kept it, 3) brought it to school with him that day (when he didn’t know I’d be wearing my new hat), and 4) given it back to me when he saw me wearing a similar hat, or else something even weirder happened.
Actually, it could be a glitch in your modem. I had one, years ago that would dial the phone, even when not hooked to the 'puter. The manufacturer said it was a sloppy solder. :dubious:
How’s this for a bizarre occurence that seems to have no rational explanation - there was this thread two years ago, and it just died a natural death (we thought) and here it is again, lumbering around like some kind of…ZOMBIE!
I am quite scared of the possibility of removing it.
Some buffets in Vegas give you a playing card to mark your table, and I got the Queen of Hearts once, back when I was 15, and I decided to keep it for luck. Fast-forward a year and change, and my friends take a betting pool on when I’ll get into my first car accident, because I get pretty spacey when left to my own devices. The longest bet puts me at six months.
I make it almost a year. I was cleaning out my wallet, so I decided to take out the old QH, so I can take the last cards out of that silly plastic window-fold thing and have an easier-to-handle wallet.
Someone rear-ends me and totals my car (not hard to do, actually) the next day. Nobody’s hurt, and it isn’t my fault (rule out the placebo effect), but I put the card back in as soon as I get home. I’m still the same spacey guy… but I haven’t had so much as a scratch since.
