When I was in third grade...or second grade..

I don't know what it was about me that made me want to go to school early even though my classes don't start until noon. I would be in school by 9 or something. During those hours I would just happily play with my "jack stones" or my "pick-up-stix". I was in my own little world just playing it over and over, perfecting the games.

On one of these mornings as I was sitting at the corner playing the "jack stones" I observed two girls (students) that were probably also early birds. They were having a conversation and from my recollection, one of them suggested they go inside the building in one of the rooms. I just ignored them and continued to play.

My next recollection was myself looking up from the game to see these two girls crying hysterically and was just saying something to the school guard who left his post to console them but they could not be comforted and I remember they walked away with him.

"Cry babies.", I thought to myself. :D

So when it was time for my classes to start I started hearing this rumour/story - about these two students who went inside one of the class rooms that morning.

This classroom , as I recall was located at the right wing of the building and I remember it being fairly new, like a new addition. I've always thought this room was odd because it was a good 2-3 feet higher than the regular classrooms. It's adjacent to the main building. It's like its own room. It's not even part of a hallway. To walk past it, you have to be walking outside the building.

They say that these two girls went inside the empty classroom and just started writing on the board. All the chairs were up on the desks with the legs sticking up. As the two girls were just goofing around writing on the board, some chairs started to vibrate on the desks. They witnessed it and then some of the chairs vibrated so hard they fell off the desk which brought them running and screaming for the school guard.

And I did not connect it until some time later - those girls that I saw who were crying hysterically, those were the girls they were talking about. I wish I was a bit more nosy and not so preoccupied with my stupid jack stones game.

Because there is another version of the story of what happened in that classroom. Two girl went inside the classroom to "play" when they saw a lady in white and they screamed and ran outside and called for the school guard.

Either way, I remember after hearing about the story, curiously walking past this classroom and trying to have the guts to enter but never could (I've always had the Ghost Hunter in me hehehe). My memory is fading but I recall having to walk past it with other girls from my class and one of them saying "This is the classroom..." . It was already quite dark which added to the ambiance. I remember walking past it as quickly as I could , pulling my school-bag-on-a-stroller with my right hand. Still as I walked past it, I couldn't help but sneak a look inside almost expecting to see something but didn't. But I remember just feeling that whatever is in there, is in there I just could not see it.

I would've just dismissed the rumour as something made-up by fellow 8-year-olds had I not witnessed the two girls headed towards the direction of the classroom and subsequently crying their eyes out and trying to say something to the bewildered school guard.

Work Ghost?

A few years ago when I was an assistant manager for a specialty clothing store, something happened that has still left me wondering to this day...

It was a bright sunny California day and myself and 1 other employee was working at that time.Being that it was a weekday, we hardly had any shoppers that morning. We were expecting shipment that day so when the delivery buzzed, I went to open the heavy metal door that leads to our back stockroom , the door's heaviness makes it close with a heavy latch. Walking a few more feet to another door , I then punched a code to open another heavy metal door that lead to the loading area.

I greeted the delivery person and we were expecting at least 20 boxes that day that I am to check in. He made me sign something electronically with a black keypad and said he will head to the trailer to unload the boxes. The trailer had an elevator which allows him to unload and load box without having to use a ladder to climb and go down. I watched him as the elevator lifted him up to the trailer.

I went inside the bathroom to wash my hands and made sure the door stopper was holding the bathroom door open so that I can see the stockroom behind me. As I was washing my hands, in the mirror reflection I can see the open door that leads to the docking area at the right side of the mirror and the shelves to the left of the mirror. I glanced away to look at reflection when a movement caught my eye at the left side of the mirror - which meant there was movement behind me.

I glanced to the left in time to see a tall, slender, light-skinned African American man wearing a red and gray windbreaker-type jacket and light-colored denim jeans walk behind me from my left to right and disappear from my view as my reflection blocked him. He was probably less than 5 feet behind me.

More puzzled than surprised, I quickly turned around ready to ask the gentleman to go back to the sales floor because this area is for employees only. There was no one in the stockroom but me. A few moments later, I quickly headed outside the docking area expecting to see the gentleman there but the docking area was deserted and I can see the delivery man still up in the trailer loading the boxes. Still puzzled as to where the gentleman could be, I went back inside the stockroom and opened the door that lead to the sales floor, peeked my head out and hollered out to the lone employee busy straightening the merchandise.

" Are there any customers in the store at all?"

"No, it's been very slow."

"What about within the last 2 minutes or so? Did anyone go inside the stockroom?", I asked.

"No."

Who was the gentleman I saw? If he entered the stockroom from the sales floor, that heavy metal door would've made such a loud noise but I never heard the door open.

He was known as George since then.

I know I haven't posted any stories in a while

Life is just distracting, it takes away from blogging ;)

***

I sat on the stage of this former Speakeasy at the basement of the Ryde Hotel. There were no spectators and I wasn't doing a performance. I was in a ghost hunting investigation.

Seated a few feet from me is another investigator and a Sensitive by the name of Donna.


I then heard what sounded like singing from the upstairs. Since my back was on the stage and I was facing out, I heard it from my left hand side. It wasn't directly above me. The voice sounded female. Her voice was muffled but I can hear a melody and words that I could not make out and then, it was gone. I wish I had my recorder running. Everyone was accounted for. The females were all downstairs and so were the men. The one hotel employee was at that time on the third floor.

The Ryde Hotel is also in a very isolated area on the 160 River Road. It sits on the levee road right across the Sacramento River. The closest neighbor is a house next door which I think where the hotel keeper lives. It will be probably another 3 quarters of a mile until it comes across a "neighbor" on both sides.

I tried to debunk it. I tried to locate where exactly this singing-female above us was. I went upstairs and stomped on the dining room above and the lobby with a walkie at hand, talking to the other investigator, Deb, downstairs. When she heard me stomp on the area above the stage, I found myself in the private party room up in the dining hall then I sang.

" I can hear you. " , Deb said through the walkie.

Whoever was singing was standing in the private party room of the dining room.

In the darkness.

The Ryde Hotel is simply a gift for us ghost hunters. I don't even feel scared when I go there. I feel at ease and I feel a party atmosphere.

I'm not creeped out but it is just an observation..

...because there has been an increase of it lately.


I don't feel threatened. I don't feel scared. I don't think it's evil

I think it's a human spirit.

Here at my house I have lately seen a showdowy thing walking low on the floor. Now, I've always thought it was my little brown dog but whe whenever I check under my desk or on the floor, he's not there because my dog's been upstairs sleeping. The most recent one was this morning. I was sitting here, on the computer when out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw part of my dog walking under the computer desk. I even looked at directly it so I wasn't seeing it out of the corner of my eye anymore and I watched it move from right to left (partially hidden by the desk) to go under my desk. I knew it wasn't my dog because I looked under and surprise surprise - nothing. I decided to "kick" my legs and say "...get out of there, I'm on the computer!".

One night, just as I was in that cusp of consciousness and sleep, I heard a man's voice say to my ear " Hello." Which made me open my eyes and I was so irritated by it that I said to whomever it was " I'm trying to sleep here please. Don't be rude."

...after which, I felt (and this with the heater on and the window shut) - a cold breeze over my right hand side. I closed my eyes and continuted to sleep until the morning, I was too sleepy to be bothered.

It happened again last night. I get in this mood of organizing something and last night was one of them, I was busy hanging my earrings onto this earring holder when I felt the very cold breeze again. All the windows are shut, the heater is on. I stopped and tried to recreate it by waving my arms and recereating my movements - with no results. Finally I said out loud , " ..look, if you've followed me or just passing through, you can't communicate with me unless you're Margo, Jessica , Lolo Dave or Lolo Doc..if it's you guys, I'm so happy your dropped by. " (namely my beloved cousins and grandfathers).


Again, I don't feel threatened by it. If it were my love ones that is awesome. If it were a curious once-human spirit then I hope they find peace. If it were one of those spirit who followed me home from an investigation - I hope they find peace too.


Our most recent investigation took us to a town in the East Bay - the client Mr. P is a young man who can see dead people. He told me out of the blue that when I walked in his house, I was being followed by an older little lady who could be an aunt, grandma (or great grandma) who is there to protect me. I knew it's not my grandmas for I am still blessed to have them here with us. It would be great if it were one of my great aunts namely Tita Saling and Tita Edith. Or my great grandmothers on my dad side :) .


And twice now, I have been told by people with gifts by Mr. P and another great person Ms. Donna that I am sensitive. In a way, I'm in denial. I'm sure there are ways to develop it but I don't want to - my mind is cluttered enough as it is.

Because again, these experiences are subjective. I'd rather support this experiences with objective and measurable findings.

Before I forget about it..

Over Time (cool I'm giving them titles now hehehe)


This story was shared to me by my dad. He said he works with this woman who was fairly new with the company. Sometimes, she would work a little over time to finish up some paperwork.One night,she thought everyone had left until she saw this middle-aged,Caucasian gentleman walk past her in one of the aisles and so she greeted him, " How are you doing?". He did not acknowledge her and he just continued to walk past her. She just shrugged it off and she continued to work on her paperwork. She saw him again on one of her shifts and she greeted him again, and once again, he ignored her. This time however, she turned her head expecting to his retreating form only to find that he was no longer there. Assuming he was just a fast walker, she resumed with her paperwork.

This woman was working with my dad one time and she told him about the rude middled-aged white guy who doesn't even respond to her when she greets him. My father did not think much of it until they both came across a poster spread of photos of Employee of The Month. She then recognized The Guy and pointed at this particular EOM saying " That's him. That's the guy. What is his name?"

My dad told her the man's name and told her that she could not have possibly seen him. She was adamant that it was him. My dad then explained to her that this man died of lung cancer 6 months before she started working there. My dad's co worker became upset upon hearing this and she started to cry because of. She told him she'll never work over time again.


Old Typewriter

Again , told by my dad.

This happened when he used to work at this particular company. My dad worked graveyard. The graveyard shift had a skeleton crew of less than a dozen employees. At the far end of their floor is a hallway with empty offices. During one of his shifts, my dad could hear the unmistakable tap-tap-tap of the type writer keys being punched and the ringing it makes. He stopped and reached out to his co-worker working next to him and asked, " Are you hearing that?", and his co-worker heard it too. It was past midnight and no one is in those offices. They decided to investigate and approached the hallway. But as they were approaching the hallway they heard a door shut and so they stopped, expecting to hear footsteps in the hallway and a co-worker to step out - no one emerged.

Curious, they continued to walk towards the hallway to check out who was using the typewriter but they were met with silence and a darkened hallway. They no longer hear the typewriter either.

Everyone was a little spooked especially the females. My dad said they would come in pairs to use the bathrooms by the dark hallway.

When their shift was over, my dad asked the guard if someone was working overtime in one of the offices. The guard said that it was just them working on the floor and no one was in the office during that time.


A classmate's farewell

So my dad was only 9 years old or so, he said, when this happened. He began his story by saying that he was a very cantankerous child who would always get into fights. He's the boy who would always cause a ruckus in class. He's the boy the teacher picks on because of his misbehaviour. He was being his usual mischievous self one day and so his teacher decided to call him to the front of class to recite the Panatang Makabayan (Pledge of Allegiance).

He described their classroom as a space that could seat up to 50 boys. At the far back corner of the room, to the right, are their musical instruments and other tools.

So my dad defiantly went to the front of the class and the teacher went to the back of the class so that he can have a full view of my dad. My dad started to recite the PM when he noticed that there was a commotion at the far corner of the classroom and so he stopped. He noticed too that his teacher was looking at the corner where they all have their instruments. Then my father heard it too - the unmistakable sound of their stand up bass guitar playing a non-melodic tune.

"Stop it! " , his teacher said at loud to no one in particular at the corner.

The stand up bass played again. I asked dad if it was playing something in particular? My dad said that it was just random strings with no particular musical pattern. The teacher took off running and was out of the room by the time his poor students were screaming and scrambling out of their chairs and out of the room - including my dad.

This ruckus got the attention of the school principal who also happens to be a priest. He went back to the deserted classroom and blessed the room. This was witnessed by my father, his teacher and his classmates who were all standing outside the room as this ritual was being performed.

My father said on the day this happened, it was the day of the funeral for one of his classmates. This boy died the week before because he was struck by a car. My father thinks that it was his classmate, making his farewell to everyone.

First Entry

Why did I decide to create this blog? I love hearing about ghost stories. As a child I would listen to my parents , aunts and uncles and all their grown up friends share their experiences.

I want to give these stories a home here, before they fade into my memory. Most of these stories are subjective. Some are from my own experience some are told from the mouths of others. Some has left me wondering, some has given me goosebumps.

My earliest memory of a ghost story was when I lived in , I guess you can call an ancestral home from my father's side of the family. As a child, I often find myself in the living room playing facing the stairway that leads to the second floor bedrooms.

I can recall at least half a dozen instances as child, while playing downstairs when I would hear the unmistakable creak of the floorboards at the top of the stairs. I would look up to see a pair of bare feet descend the first step with it's right foot and then it would vanish. It happened so often , I don't even think much of it.

One time I was playing with my little brother at this nook under the stairs. It's a storage area really of stuff. We were playing there when I don't know what made me look up towards the far corners of the nook - in the darkness. It was daytime but the nook was dark with a red heavy curtain cover it. Some daylight was shining through and at the far corner I could see movement. When I looked longer, I realized it was an unopened umbrella and what I was seeing was it's crooked handle and it moved from left to right then back to the left. I don't remember much of that anymore except that I think I just continued to play. I did not remember feeling frightened.

Another experience I've had but has left me wondering and looking back, I'm feeling a bit unnerved. You see in this house, they still had rotary phones. I was being a silly stubborn kid one day and was I think just bored and was dialing some random numbers. Our hired help was behind me telling me to stop but I kept on dialing. I then saw this hand that has a yellow-orange color , it looked like it came from my right side and it landed on top of my hand for a second then I felt it flick the top of my hand. I startled me and I turned to our hired help and asked her " Did you just flicked my hand?" and she shook her head no. Maybe it was her hand or maybe it was my grandfather or my great grandfather's spirit telling me to stop. I don't know what it was to this day. Maybe it's not even a ghost story.