This is a 1st
person account of how a ghost when simply acknowledged became a real asset by
showing its’ appreciation later on.
In the early 70s I was
attending a local college as an undergraduate. I was involved in the campus
theatre and spent many hours acting and painting sets.
This is the story of how a
ghost saved me from getting my “ass kicked.”
Frequently when I worked in
the theatre I was alone--at least I thought I was. I often heard my name called
when no one else was in the building.
Wondering if the theatre was
haunted I asked around. I was told the story of a student who died in the
crawlspace while working under the stage. He broke a steam pipe by accident and
then was killed by the spraying steam.
I felt bad this had happened,
it was a horrible way to die.
One stairwell that led up to
a costume shop was always colder than the rest of the building. Plants that
lined the windows near this staircase always died. There was a lot of sunlight so
this mystified everyone.
I began to sit on these
stairs to eat my lunch “so I could reach out to the ghost and befriend him.”
After a few weeks the plants in the windows started to perk up--they had new
shoots and leaves.
It was at this time that the
campus concert choir was preparing for their big spring show. Several others
and I set up the collapsible risers on the stage for this group.
After one rehearsal a member
of this choir approached me. Earlier he had seen me talking to his girlfriend. It
was obvious he was out to intimidate me. He demanded I stick around after
everyone left. He announced menacingly “we need to talk.”
This guy was twice my size
and he was furious. I waited to everyone left the building. As he approached I
tried to explain that I was not interested in his girl--we had just engaged in small
talk. I told him I was interested in and dating another girl.
But he didn’t believe me and approached
where I stood on a top riser. It was clear to me he was itching for a fight.
As I watched him step onto
the bottom riser a calm settled over me. I sensed that I would be all right and that
I was not alone.
He stopped on the top riser
next to mine, as he drew back his arm to take a swing at me-- I told him, “I
wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
He laughed, “What’s that
supposed to mean?”
Now hesitant I stated, “I
have friends.”
He looked around and then
sneered, “Well, they are not here now. No one can save you. You’re dead.”
Just as he said this the
riser he was standing on collapsed from under him. He fell back into the
concrete wall behind the stage.
I watched as he stood up
dazed holding the back of this head. He now looked up at me with mounting fear.
“I tried to warn you--now
leave me alone!”
He never bothered me again.
I believe the ghost appreciated
the fact I had taken the time to acknowledge him--so he assisted me. I just treated him the way I
would have wanted to be treated if I were in his place.
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