True Ghost Stories: Jim Harold's Campfire 2 Read online

  -Katrina, France

  PART THREE: FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE

  41. Daddy's Watch

  In 2003, I was stationed in Virginia, and my father had quite a few heart problems in his later years. I received word that he was basically on his last few days. I flew to Texas to see him, and when I got there, they had already placed him in the emergency care unit. My mother, my sister and I, we would take turns staying at the hospital with him. I usually stayed with him from midnight till about 6 or 7 am, then I would be relieved by my sister and I would go to bed for a little while.

  On the day he died, I had gone home, just as I usually did, and was about to go to bed. I had been on the phone with my wife, and we’d had a disagreement about something. I got off the phone with her and was a little upset about the situation. I smoked at the time, so I went outside to have a cigarette. As I was sitting there, I suddenly felt my dad’s presence around me. It’s hard to explain, but sometimes you just feel a person around you and you know who that person is. I sensed him and I could even hear him speaking to me. He was saying, “This isn’t right,” and I thought, “Maybe my mind’s playing tricks on me. Maybe I’m just tired.”

  For some reason, I also decided, “Okay, I’ll just go with it.” So I responded, “Well, it’ll be all right.” Oddly enough, I just heard this voice come to me and say, “Well, I’m going to be going now.” I actually spoke out and said, “Wait, I’m going to miss you,” and I heard his voice come back and say, “You’ll be all right.” Then the voice and the presence that I had felt were both gone, and I thought, “That’s odd. I must be losing it from being tired and the stress of dealing with all this.”

  I went back in the house, laid down and took a nap. This was about 12 in the afternoon. At about 2 pm, my mother called me and told me I needed to get down to the hospital right away. Whenever I got there, my dad was gone. He had died two to three minutes before I arrived. We stayed with him long enough for the funeral home to come pick up his body, and then we left.

  Afterward, I drove over to my sister’s house. On the way, all of a sudden, I had this overwhelming feeling that he was right there sitting next to me in the passenger’s side. I fully expected to look over and see him sitting there. So I thought, “Okay, I don’t know, maybe he’s here,” so I spoke out and said, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, somewhere else?” Oddly enough, I got this response in my mind that said, “I know, I’m still here. I just have to make sure that everything else is all right.” I responded, “Okay, you should move on or something, or go visit my sister. She’s a few cars up.” Then, the presence disappeared again. I just thought that was very, very strange.

  Then, about two days later, the funeral home had my dad prepared and we went out and looked at him to make sure that we were satisfied with the work they had done. My sister mentioned that he didn’t have a watch and my father absolutely loved timepieces. So I told them, “All right, I’ll go to Wal-Mart and get some little watch we can put on him.”

  I went to Wal-Mart and I’m shopping around, and all of a sudden I felt that presence again. I said, “What are you doing?” Oddly enough, I heard his voice come to me and say, “What are you doing?” I said, “I’m shopping for a watch.” His voice came back and said, “I’m not going to need a watch where I’m going.” I thought, “Shut up, Daddy, you’re going to get a watch. Just don’t argue with me. You’re going to get a watch.” Then it went away.

  Then, the final time I experienced the presence was at his funeral, which was on a Friday. My father was never a particularly religious man. He had his own beliefs and kind of kept to himself about it. But my sister had asked her pastor to preside over the funeral, and this guy was rather long-winded. Towards the end, I felt and I could just almost see my Daddy. I literally could just almost see him standing behind the preacher, looking at him with this exasperated look like, “Will you shut up and hurry up so I can go?” He was just taking too long.

  All of a sudden, he starts kind of waving his hand at him as though, “Move, let’s go. I’m done here.” Finally, the preacher ended, and as he did, I sensed this feeling of peace coming from my dad, and at that same moment, I heard a bell ringing. The cemetery was directly across from some train tracks, so to hear a bell off of a train wasn’t unusual. What struck me about it was that my father absolutely loved trains. His biggest passion in the world were his trains. To hear that bell ringing right as the service ended to me just indicated, okay, he’s good to go. He’s on his train now off to wherever.

  So there was that sense about it, but also when the service was over, I asked everyone in the front row with me, “Did you hear that bell?” Every one of them responded, “What bell? I didn’t hear anything.” I thought, “Hmmm.”

  This was comforting to me, and let me know that Daddy was all right. It was like he stayed around long enough to make sure that everything was just so, and once he was satisfied that it was, he was on his way.

  -Fred, Japan

  42. So Far Away

  I used to work as a stonemason. I had this radio, which I listened to during the day when I was outside on the job. On this particular day, it had gotten wet and had stopped working. So I brought it inside when I came home. I didn’t know if it was on or off. It wasn’t working, anyway. I used to have to smack it to get it going.

  I was talking at the dinner table with my wife, and the topic of my late sister Lynn came up. She died in 1972. I think it was nearing her birthday or the anniversary of her death. Anyway, for some reason I can’t recall, it was a long time ago, I was talking about Lynn, about her death and things that happened around that time. We were both sitting there, and the radio I had brought inside just kind of came on. Of course, things like that happen, but the song that came on was a song that my sister Lynn used to sing. It was “So Far Away” by Carole King, and it’s the one she sang great. Lynn played the piano very well, and she could sing all of Carole King’s songs. She was very talented. What made this very strange was that it wasn’t like we had just talked about Lynn. We were talking about her at that very instant.

  That just gave me chills. I told my parents and family about it. Believe it or not, that’s what happened as my wife can tell you. She was there too, and she can’t believe it either.

  I believe in a lot of things, but I don’t believe everything. I think that I kind of needed to be in touch with my sister because when a person dies, you feel like you want to know that they are still, maybe not living, but maybe in another dimension or somewhere.

  It was her favorite song. To me, it was transcendental or whatever, some kind of dimensional communication. My wife picked up on it, and like I said, we don’t believe every story that comes down the road, but how could you deny this?

  She was telling me she was so far away. It just gives you the chills. I believe she’s still out there somewhere, wherever. To me, it’s a message, a pure message.

  -David, Michigan

  43. Man with the Top Hat

  I had a little brother, and he was born with a hole in his heart. By the age of five, they felt he was healthy enough to have surgery. Afterwards, he made it through the first night, but then passed. I was eight years old at the time. While this was going on, I had been staying at a friend’s house while my parents were at the hospital.

  Afterward, we went home, and I think this happened on the next night or two. After I had gone to bed, I remember sitting up and in the doorway there was a tall, older gentleman, with kind of a top hat on, holding a little boy’s hand. They looked in the room at me, and I just kind of waved and looked at them for a minute. I didn’t know what else to do so I laid back down. It was almost like the boy was saying goodbye and the gentleman was showing him that everybody was still there and that it was okay.

  I felt the boy was my brother. He was little with blond hair like my brother. I wasn’t close enough to see any of the blueness of his fingernails from when he had the heart issues. I knew it was my little brother
. It just had to be.

  I don’t know who the man with the top hat was. I feel like it was somebody from my father’s side of the family. He reminded me of my grandfather on my dad’s side, who was still alive at that time. I’ve never seen enough of any of the photo albums to try and find him. I’ve always wanted to do that, and I still might.

  It felt good, just to know that he was still there, kind of. It was a hard time for everybody, my parents especially. Kids bounce back faster, although it never really did leave me.

  I’ve never forgotten it, ever. I think about it often.

  -Michele, Washington

  44. Message Across the Miles

  I was a combat engineer and I was deployed to Desert Storm. My father-in-law died when I was over in the Gulf. He had terminal cancer. He was career military and encouraged me to go but, at the time I went, I didn’t know he had terminal cancer.

  While I was over there, we were running missions and at night you would always try to find somewhere where you could get a shower and a warm meal. We always used to try to sleep at hospital units, because they always had that stuff.

  One night, we went to a hospital unit because it’s a safe place and well protected. Anyway, I go to sleep, and I wake up really scared. I don’t know what’s up. I have my weapon, and I’m just shaking my head, clearing my head, and I tell myself, “Everything’s okay.” When we come back to our unit afterward, I found out my father-in-law had passed. They sent me back home for the funeral.

  So I get home and I’m talking to my wife, and she tells me about when he passed away. She told me the time he died. It was the exact time I woke up frightened, because I remember looking at my watch.

  Like I tell my kid, that was your grandfather telling me, “So long, take care everybody.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

  -Pete, California

  45. Grandpa's Pipe Smoke

  I believe that my four-year-old son actually has interaction with my grandfather who passed long before my son was born. The reason I say this is because my son will be sitting in our easy chair in the living room, and he’ll just start giggling and kicking his feet and say, “He’s tickling my feet, he’s tickling my feet.” I’ll ask, “Who?” He’ll say, “The man.”

  This kind of struck me as odd, and I immediately thought of my grandfather. Now, my grandfather, when we were kids, had an affinity for tickling the heck out of our feet. He just loved to tease us that way. What’s even more odd is the fact that when this is happening, every now and then, we’ll get a whiff of black cherry pipe tobacco, which is the exact tobacco my grandfather used to smoke. None of us smoke.

  I’ve always believed that children are more open to these things, before they’re taught that, “Hey, you’re not supposed to be seeing that stuff.” As a matter of fact, it’s not just my grandfather that my son is seeing. Sometimes there’ll be times like when he has to go to the bathroom, he’ll just run upstairs, and go with no problem at all. Then there are other times he’ll just freeze midway, stop and stare up there, and I’ll say, “Come on, let’s go.” He’ll say, “I don’t want to go in there because the man’s in there.” He’ll be kind of scared about it. That kind of gets me because I don’t think it’s my grandfather scaring him. At least, I hope it’s not.

  I sense that when he says “the man,” that it is a different man. I’ve never smelled the pipe tobacco when he does that. My son also sees things at my mother’s house as well.

  My grandfather’s pipe tobacco is very distinct. I grew up practically raised by my grandparents and I would never mistake that tobacco for anything else than what it is. I know that smell and when it comes I know he’s here.

  -Thomas, United States

  46. Honey, I Love You

  When I graduated from high school my mom was diagnosed with melanoma cancer. I was slated to go to Russia that August for a school year, and we didn’t really realize how serious her condition was. She urged me to go. So I went.

  Probably a week into the trip, I had this vivid dream where I was with all the other exchange students and it was springtime. We were just cavorting around this park, and we heard a telephone ring, and some lady said, “Annie, it’s your mom. You need to take the phone call.” I said, “No, I don’t want to. I’m having fun.” I knew she was sick, and I didn’t want to spoil my fun. She said, “No, you have to talk to your mom.” So I talked to my mom, and she was crying, and she said, “Annie, I’m really sorry, but you have to come home now.” I said, “No, I’m not going to come home. I don’t want to. I’m having too much fun.”

  She told me, “They found more cancer, you have to come home.” So that was the dream, and that was in the back of my head for seven months kind of nagging at me.

  Seven months later in March, I get home from a weekend with my friends and other exchange students. The telephone rings, and my host mother hands me the phone. It’s my mom. She was crying and she said, “They found more cancer; you have to come home.”

  I just kind of knew that it was going to happen. I didn’t want to believe it, but I think that dream really prepared me for that call.

  Of course, I went home. At the end, my mom had been in a coma for about a day and a half, and she was in a bed in our living room. I was in self-denial, but we all kind of knew this was the end. Some close family friends came over and sat up with my stepdad. Their daughter was one of my best friends, and she went to bed with me. We were in bed together, just to comfort each other. I couldn’t really sleep, it was very fitful. My mom’s breathing was getting to the point of a death rattle.

  A death rattle is just a really inhuman and scary sound. I heard it out in the living room and it woke me up. It got louder and louder, and then it stopped. She was gone. She had been on an oxygen machine, and my stepdad had walked into the room and turned it off. At that time, I heard her as plain as anybody talking to me, I heard my mom say, “Honey, I love you.”

  It was so reassuring. The ensuing hours after that were awful, but just having those words was really comforting.

  My friend Anna recently passed away, and after her death I went over to visit with her parents. We were talking about my mom’s death, and Anna’s mom said, “You know, Anna heard your mom, too, when your mom died.” She said Anna heard, “Everything’s gonna be okay.” This would have been at the same time I heard my Mom speak to me. In addition, my grandma who didn’t even know my mom had passed, saw her at the same time Anna and I heard her voice. She touched all of these people as she was leaving, just to let them know it was going to be OK.

  -Annie, Oregon

  47. She Left a Message at the Beep

  I’ve been a very lucky individual. I had four grandparents until I was well into my early 20’s. I was very close to one particular grandmother, and she had a nickname for me, which was Jay Boy. Only she and my dad had ever called me Jay Boy.

  One morning while I was at work, I got a call from my dad. He told me that my grandmother had a heart attack but they had revived her and she was fine. He said that she was conscious, not to worry and that everything was going to be okay. He told me she was being taken to the hospital in the next town over, where there was a better cardiac unit. I said, “Okay, great. Call me when she gets there. Are you sure she’s okay?” My dad reassured me, “Yeah, she’s fine. She gave me a thumbs up as she was sitting in the back of the ambulance.” I said okay and we hung up.

  So, I was sitting there at work and all of a sudden I just broke down. Just absolutely broke down. I told my boss, “I’ve got to go. I’ve got to go.” He said, “What’s wrong?” I said, “Something’s wrong with my grandmother. She had this episode earlier, but I don’t know, something’s wrong.” I came home and I was very torn up. I probably had been home about 30 minutes, this is before cell phones, and my dad drove up and said, “Jay Boy, Ma died.” She passed away as they were pulling into the hospital. It was very, very traumatic and I was distraught.

  A few days went by and I had one of those old
-fashioned answering machines at the time, that had blinking lights. If you had one message, the light on the machine blinked once. Two messages, twice.

  I got home from work one day, and there were three messages on the machine. As I said, it had been several days since my grandmother died. There had been multiple messages left on the machine and they were fairly lengthy. I pushed play, and the first message was a hang up. The second message was a salesman or something along those lines. The third message was my grandmother’s voice. She said, “I love you, Jay Boy.”

  It stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned around and pushed play again. The first message was a hang up, the second message was the salesperson, and there was no third message.

  Her message was very comforting to me. It also told me I needed to watch my P’s and Q’s, because my grandmother could still see what I was doing.

  -Jay, Texas

  48. A Call from Dad

  This story is actually my mom’s experience and I’ve always found it really creepy. My mom and dad used to own a dog grooming school.

  One night they were both at work and my dad had told my mom that he had a pain in his neck. She told him to go in their office and just relax for about an hour in their recliner to see if it would just go away. He did but when she went back in the office about an hour later she found him dead.

  Of course, everybody was completely devastated and it was a really hard thing to go through. It was particularly difficult for my mom. I was nine years old, and I had two younger siblings. Aside from the loss of a spouse, my family really didn’t have that much money and she had to work really, really hard, even more than usual, after my dad passed. She was really upset.