by Jim Harold
He went on to say, "Literally, nothing has happened. It's been free and clear the last three years." I said, "Oh, my gosh." I didn't even know what to think about it, and I made the joke, "Well, hopefully, if your parents' ghost did hang on and cling to me, I hope it piggybacks onto you and you take it on back to Virginia with you." Anyway, we said our goodbyes. I came back to Albuquerque and he went back to Richmond.
No sooner than I was back home in New Mexico, he called and told me that after he got back home to Richmond, he had gone over to his parents' house to have Sunday lunch as he does every week. When he got back to his apartment, he heard his phone ringing as he was unlocking the door. He burst in and answered the phone. It was his mom, and she said, "Carl, you are not going to believe this: the ghost is back." Cabinet doors were flying open, doors slamming. He said that it put on a huge show of activity for a good solid month, almost on a daily basis.
It is still there to this day. He said it's not as active as it was prior to it leaving for three years. I don't know what that means.
One thing I can say about whatever it is, I sure hope it does not come back.
-Jennifer, New Mexico
INTRODUCTION
Welcome to my third book of TRUE GHOST STORIES -- 70 more stories from my popular program, Jim Harold's Campfire, as told to me by people from all over the world. My previous book, True Ghost Stories: Campfire 2, was so well received, reaching #1 Best Seller status on Kindle in both the Supernatural and Unexplained Mysteries categories, that adding Campfire 3 to the series was a must. If you've read either of the previous Campfire books, thank you!
In these pages, you'll find tales of hauntings, bizarre Ouija experiences, apparitions, angels, and entities that some might consider demons. We even add in a few UFO and cryptid creature stories for good measure. Some tales are simple, others quite elaborate, but my belief is that they all come from a very genuine, heartfelt place.
The real world telling of these tales is what makes them very chilling, in most cases, and heartwarming in others.
The stories are edited with a gentle hand for pacing, but remain, for the most part, in the words of the original experiencer. Keeping each story in the storyteller's voice as much as possible was the first priority, so each has its own unique style and pacing. Please be aware they may not read as I would have personally written them from scratch, nor should they in my view. Hearing the real emotions and reactions of these experiencers is the fun of the book.
I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I have enjoyed curating them for you.
AUDIO BONUS/FREE STUFF: For those of you reading this and who have purchased my Campfire 3 book, thank you! You can go to the "Audio Bonus/Free Stuff" page at the book's end to find an exclusive link to a bonus audio show plus other free goodies.
On this special audio Campfire program, exclusively created for readers of Campfire 3, I share and replay my 5 favorite stories from this compilation. You'll get to hear the original retelling by my callers. It is a paranormal countdown in the spirit of the old Top 40 radio shows. You will be able to download or stream it to the device of your choice. It is my thank you for reading the book. Enjoy True Ghost Stories: Jim Harold's Campfire 3!
Best regards,
Jim Harold
September 2014
TRUE GHOST STORIES: Jim Harold's Campfire 3
by Jim Harold
Copyright, Jim Harold Media LLC. 2014
All Rights Reserved
eBook Edition
ISBN-10: 0-9898536-2-4
ISBN-13: 978-0-9898536-2-0
PART ONE:
HAUNTINGS & GHOST STORIES
1. She's Mine
I believe I've been witness to multiple possessions involving my mother. The first time was when I was five and the only thing I remember is that my parents were fighting. The next day, I remember my dad being scratched on the face, the arms and the chest. They divorced after that.
Then when I was about 13-years-old, my mother started living with another guy. I remember getting up in the night because I heard they were fighting. I went to the room and I saw the guy holding both of her arms. I thought that he was hurting her. When I went to help my mother, I heard a voice coming out of her mouth but it did not sound like her. It was like that of a heavy metal singer, a raspy voice. It was saying to the man, "I don't want you with her. I'm going to kill you. Stay away from her." I froze because that was not my mom's voice. This guy looked at me and told me, "Help me." I was about to help him but she said, "Stop. This is not with you. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to leave."
I couldn't move. She was trying to bite him, kick him, and curse at him. I tried to help him again but once more she looked at me and said, "My problem is not with you. Just stay away from him." Then, all of a sudden, my mom fell asleep. Just as fast, she woke up, looked at me and said, "What are you doing here?" I told her what happened but she didn't remember anything.
She said, "Just go to sleep. What are you doing here?" The next day we talked a little bit and she said she didn't remember anything. My mom and the man broke up after that.
When I was 17-years-old, my mother got married again and the same thing happened. I remember the guy calling my name; I went to their room and she was hitting him, kicking him, and everything. I went there and grabbed her arms. She looked at me and told me the same thing in that weird voice. She said, "I told you the last time, this is not with you. I don't have any problem with you. I'm not going to hurt you.
It seemed like the thing possessing her remembered me, because she told me in the raspy voice, "I know that she loves you, so I'm not going to hurt you. I just want him to go away. He's not good for her." Then she turned her attention to the guy and started cursing at him. She tried to bite him and said, "Get away, you're not good for her. She's mine."
Then I started praying and she again fell asleep. Then, she woke up just like the other time and she didn't know why I was there. I told her the story the next day and I said, "Mom, you have to go to a priest or something." She never wanted to go.
She never had another episode after this, at least while I was present. It happened three times with me, but I know it happened to her on another occasion when I wasn't around.
It is possible this could have been a mental issue. She went to a psychologist about 20 years ago, who told her that maybe she had a problem with men or something like that. I remember calling my dad and asking him about the time they fought. He told me about it and it was the same experience as with the other guys.
I don't live with her anymore. I'm married now. Thanks to that experience, I am a Catholic now which is a good thing. Maybe it was a possession or maybe it wasn't, but I wouldn't want to be a part of something like that again.
-Roberto, Puerto Rico
2. The Phantom Passenger
About seven years ago, some friends of mine had some free tickets to a local comedy club to see a comedian, James Gregory.
They only had one extra ticket, so my wife graciously allowed me to go with my friends without her. Anyway, I decided to drive over to their house. We'd all meet up and go to the club from there. As I pulled in the driveway, the husband was looking out the living room window. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room of their split level home. He turned around and looked backwards into his driveway to see who was arriving. I saw him do that. At the same time, I looked to the far right of the house, and his wife was in the back bedroom doing something, and she also looked out of her window to see who was arriving.
I came into the main front door, and the husband walked up to me from the left and the woman came down a long hallway and met me from the right. Simultaneously, both of them asked, "Are they coming in?" I said, "Who?" They said, "The people in your car." I said, "No, I drove here alone." They said, "No." The husband said, "There's a woman sitting in the passenger seat of your car. She's got blonde hair and she's wearing a white blouse." The wife said, "That's right, and there's a tall man s
itting in the backseat wearing a blue polo shirt and navy pants." The husband was shaking his head going, "Yeah, yeah, this is what we saw."
Anyway, we all ran outside. Of course, we didn't see anything at all. I've seen strange things pretty much my whole life, since I was about six. The weirdest part of this story to me, the reason why I like to share it, is because I didn't see anything. Two different people from two different locations saw the exact same thing and I saw nothing at all.
I have an idea who it might be. I won't mention the young lady because of the history that I had with her, but the man may have been one of my great uncles. I am surmising that just by the descriptions that I've seen of him.
My daughter sees these types of things as well. One time we were driving home from a soccer game during a bad lightning storm and we were coming into our neighborhood. As I turned into the driveway, lightning struck near our home and everything illuminated. I saw the man in the blue shirt, the same one from the car. I saw him standing at the edge of my driveway. I didn't say anything at all; I looked in the rearview mirror at my daughter, and she said, "I saw him." That's all she said. "I saw him." I said, "What was he wearing?" She said, "A blue shirt."
-David, Alabama
3. Alone in a Haunted Dorm
This happened a few years ago when I was attending university. I needed to take two chemistry courses during spring intersession, and they were only offered at another college. So I moved to a new town for the six weeks that I was going to be at summer school. I had some friends in that area who knew the school pretty well. There were only about 12 other students in my dorm, four of them were girls, and there were also some international students. This is important for the story.
My friends took me on a tour when I moved in because they kind of knew the lay of the land. In the old part of the L-shape of the dorm, there was a balcony in the middle of the hall. Students would tell the story that there was a girl or a nun a long, long time ago who got pregnant and was so ashamed that she hung herself over the balcony. So, I found myself living in an old, creepy dorm full of ghost stories.
Six weeks rolled by and nothing happened. My last night on campus came and everything was going great. I had finished my final exam for Biochemistry plus it was the day before my birthday, so of course, we went out to celebrate. We just went out and played some pool. I didn't drink because I didn't want to be hung over. I was totally sober when everything happened, since I had to get up the next day and drive seven hours by myself back to my home province of New Brunswick. I knew I had a long day ahead, so before I went out for the evening, I packed everything into my car except for one bag. I had no phone, no radio, nothing in the dorm, just one bag and a blanket.
I got home late and walked into the dorm. I suddenly realized that I was the only one in the whole building because everyone else just drove home after the final exam. Some students lived much closer to home than me so they just left, and the international students had found an apartment off-campus, so they had moved too. I was full of fear. I convinced myself to calm down, I thought, "Well, it's been six weeks; nothing's happened, no problem." I'm easily spooked out, but I've never actually had anything happen. So I went to bed and kind of laughed it off and thought, "Oh, I'm fine."
At 2 a.m., I'm awoken and I hear girls running around the hall. There is the sound of laughing, doors slamming, and the hall lights are on. Usually at night, they were just automatically dimmed. Then, on the first floor lounge of the dorm, there was a piano. I could hear someone banging on it, not playing a song, but just kind of like girls just sitting at the piano, clanging at the keys, and they're laughing.
When I first awoke I thought, "Oh, what are those international students doing?" Then, I realized that they had moved out and I was there alone. I didn't have a phone to call my mom or a radio to drown the sound out. So, I lie there for a while; I was definitely awake. I went up to the door and I listened, I moved around. Then, I ended up pulling the blanket over my eyes and forced myself to go back to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. I was petrified, tired, and because I packed light, I wondered, "Okay, what am I going to do?" The only way to get out of the building was to run past the lounge with the piano. After I got my courage up, I grabbed everything, ran to the car, and threw everything in it. I even had to go stop at a gas station to use the washroom, because I did not want to be in that dorm anymore. It was freaky.
Of course, I had my seven hour drive home, and by the time I got there I rationalized the story in my head. I figured that the international students came back, played a joke for some reason at 2 a.m., even though they'd never been up that late or done anything like that. So that was the end of it. I told my parents that something weird happened, but that I'd figured it out...or so I thought.
That night, it was my birthday, and I was together with a group of my friends from my hometown. We were sitting on a porch and we were just hanging out. I was yawning and was tired, and I said, "Sorry guys, I'm so tired. Someone kept me up last night playing the piano in my dorm room." That sounds like a funny story. Who would be playing the piano? One of my friends who was there goes to the university in question during the normal school year. She knew my dorm. She said, "Yeah, Allison, it was two little girls, and they were laughing and playing the piano. I've heard this one before."
That's when I said, "Oh my God!" I freaked. I said, "What? What do you mean you've heard it before?" All I had said was "someone" kept me up playing the piano, but she knew it was two little girls and she knew they were laughing. I guess it is a known ghost story on campus, that there are these two little girls that haunt this dorm.
My whole theory about students returning didn't hold water, because the dorm had these programmable keycards, so as soon as you moved out, they didn't work anymore. So, logically it couldn't have been one of the students coming back.
I guess I learned more that spring than just chemistry. I learned that ghosts are real!
-Allison, Canada
4. Great-Grandma Didn't Believe in Ghosts
I used to live with my great-grandmother when she was in her late 80's. I was about 10-years-old and I'd been hounding her for quite some time to tell me a ghost story. This was around Halloween and I just wouldn't let it go. I pestered her and pestered her.
She would tell me, "I don't believe in ghosts. I'm a good Christian woman. I don't believe in ghosts. Now you go on with that." Finally, one day when she was crocheting, I wore her down. I was sitting at her footstool and I was helping her with the string while she crocheted. I begged, "Tell me a ghost story, tell me a ghost story." She said, "All right, now you sit still and I'll tell you the strangest thing." Naturally, I froze on the spot as I was very excited.
It was 1918 when this incident occurred. My great-grandma was 12-years-old and her grandmother had just passed away. This would've been my great-great-great grandmother and her name was Polly. They had the wake outside of one of the family homes. That evening there was a full moon, and you could see perfectly outside. My great-grandma was outside playing hide-and-go-seek with the other children of the family.
There was a big gardenia bush growing by the fence and my great-grandma went to go hide behind it. She got quite a shock because when she came around the corner she saw her dead grandmother Polly standing behind the bush!
This was before embalming, and they used to tie a rag around the head of the dead to keep the mouth closed. Polly was still wearing this rag and was in her burial dress! Of course, my great-grandmother fainted on the spot. When she came to she wouldn't tell anybody what happened.
She told me, "I don't know why I'm telling you this now, and you'd better not say another word about it again, and don't you dare ask me for another ghost story." I said, "So you do believe in ghosts," and she said, "No, I do not believe in ghosts, and that's all I will say. Not another word about it." She wouldn't repeat that story again to save her life. Nobody else in the family ever heard that story.
My great-great-grandmother also saw Polly, who was her mother, about three weeks after she died. At the time, there was a long dirt road lined by big oak trees that went to their house. Great-great-grandma had been to a neighbor's house who had been quarantined with Yellow Fever. At the time, when you were quarantined, folks would bring you a pot of food, and put it on your porch. The quarantined would take the food, consume it, wash the pot, put it back on the porch, and a couple days later the folks helping them would come back and get it. No one would open the door because you didn't want to contaminate anybody.
Well, my great-great-grandma was coming back from getting her pot, and she was looking down this long, canopy road. She saw this one beam of sunlight shining and thought how pretty it was. About that time, her mother, Polly, just slowly showed up in that beam of sunlight, and before she could really gather it, Polly just kind of slowly disappeared again.
When Polly died, it was a strange, strange thing. It was just a little after the Victorian Age, and people still crowded into the bedroom of the dying. Polly was lying on her deathbed, and her breathing was labored. All of a sudden she sat up and she asked everybody in the room to please join hands and to sing with her the old hymn, "Angel Band." So they sang. It goes, "Angel band, come and around me stand and gather me close with your soft white wings." Polly's voice was strong and pure throughout the whole song. When the song stopped, she sat back, took one breath, and immediately passed. One man thought it was so uncanny that he was said to have gone mad over it and he was subsequently placed in a mental institution.
