Supernatural Experiences (Do you believe in ghosts? thread)

Discussion in 'Locker Room' started by Dolph'sZiggler, Apr 18, 2014.

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  1. @Wacokid27 has some badass stories to share.
  2. My story..

    I used to work at a store called Dollar Tree here in Norfolk, VA back around 2000. There was a rumor going on about a ghost that frequented the store... it would make itself visible every once in a while. The old timers at the store had gotten used to it and never really talked about it that much.

    I asked one of the old timers about it and she said that she had seen him... but she didn't want to tell me anything to influence me.... she'd let me see myself.. I walk away laughing... I didn't believe there was any such thing as ghosts really...they were just a thing in horror movies.

    I worked the morning shift.. off loading the truck whenever it came in and stocking shelves until we opened for business. I was stocking one morning and started smelling what seemed like coffee brewing. We didn't have a coffee machine in the store anywhere, nor did we sell coffee in the store.. and no one had brought coffee in that morning.

    I called to person working with me to see of he could smell it as well... he couldn't smell anything. The smell was still extremely strong to me. I went back to stocking the shelves and looked to my right... at the end of the isle was a gentleman dressed in 30s/40s era clothing.. a bowler hat.. a suit.. and shining shoes... he was holding a mug in his hand.. I could see steam flowing from it. I said "HEY!!" and he didn't move.. my co worker yelled from across the store "WHAT!?" I looked over at him and said "Nothing!"... when I looked back to the gentleman there was a solid white mist there and it was fading away slowly.

    I was definitely shook up... but I said nothing for the next couple days because the old timer I talk to earlier was off the next couple days. She came back and I asked her, "Do you smell coffee when he comes around?" She said "yes"... I described him to her and she put her hand out.. I shook it and she said " Welcome to the Club"

    From that day forward I know that ghosts/spirits live among us... on a different plane hidden from our sight... but still there.. some are trying to communicate to their loved ones... some are evil and want to spread harm and chaos. But they are real.
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  3. That's a whale of a tale Joel McHale, but I still can't buy it. I think that old lady spiked your drink and was fucking with you.
  4. Anyone always have that feeling that someone is behind you but no one isn't? I don't believe in the supernatural, but I remember weird stuff happening. Like, I went downstairs to go grab some water and one of my pictures were moving side to side. Me being fucking cautious, I was like, "Is anyone there? Come out, I know you're hiding." before walking around looking with a broom in hand.

    No one was there though and I got my water. True story
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  5. I think that is just called being a pussy lmao. No offense doe. What are there, like 25 B&Es a year in all of Canada? Your picture was just moving because your fat ass was boogying down to the kitchen for your dunkaroos
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  6. I would have said that if my picture was near me at all. Like trust me, it was exorcist stuff, hard frame cover, doesn't even move when people walk down the stairs. I was like, "What the fuck?"

    Aye, and it's called being cautious faggot.
  7. I used to work in a bar which was allegedly haunted- I didn't believe that for a second. One of the other barmaids wouldn't go into the basements alone, but I would. Yes it was creepy, but it was a basement and the machinery was noisy.
    Anyway, one evening I'm alone in my bar (there are three separate bars in the building) and I was just grabbing a few glasses to stock up for when I open the bar (Mine opened last every evening) I feel something pressing against my arm, it almost feels like hair being dragged across it- I look at my arm and there is nothing there at all, but I can still feel it.
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  8. Another thing that happened to me..

    I was watching an episode of Ghost Adventures late one night... they were investigating something in New Orleans and had hired a Voo Doo Priestess to come to the site they were investigating to try and provoke the spirits. The priestess started chanting and knowing nothing about Voo Doo and being bored I repeated her chants... the episode finished and I went to sleep... had a dream of being chased through a forest by 2 wolves... they caught me.. bit me on the leg and I woke up...

    A couple minutes after I woke up I noticed my leg had a burning feeling.. I looked down to see a full bite mark on my leg with blood trickling from it... it looked like a canine bite from the bite size. I haven't had a dog since I was 8 years old.. I didn't own a cat then.. there were zero animals in my apartment. I don't know of anything that could have bitten me on my leg and drawn blood.

    So, anyway yeah... that's it.
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  9. I had a dream once I was being bitten by a dog and woke up the next morning with the most hellacious looking spider bite I'd ever seen in my life. crazy how our brains work. I'm sure you got bit by a ghost dog though :happy:

    sorry If I'm a dick, can't help but to bust balls
  10. She was off work the day I saw him, myself and my stock partner were the only ones there as the store wasn't open for business yet.
  11. I'm used to you being a dick... and unless it was a desert spider from Iraq there is no way in hell it was a spider bite lol
  12. Spider bites can be nasty dude. It doesn't have to be a big spider to fuck your shit up. I also find it strange you only mention this story now after the fact, because it seems like a strong opener. Stronger than coffee smells.
  13. oh and where the hell is Waco? he must be bangin out a dandy story
  14. lol... I rarely think of either of my experiences.. when I saw your thread was really the first time I had thought about them for a long time now. The first one I posted so quickly because I copied and pasted it from when I wrote about it on Facebook nearly 4 years ago, the second one popped into my mind a few minutes after that.
  15. Okay, here goes. First off, a couple of ground rules:

    1) Be respectful. What I am about to share are a few experiences I have had. While I am aware that I cannot prove there was any sort of supernatural involvement with them, you cannot prove that there was no supernatural involvement with them. And I think it's a little more realistic that something odd was involved rather than that people (none of whom were familiar to me from my life) would go to such lengths to perpetrate such elaborate hoaxes on little old me.
    2) I don't ask you to believe what I say, but I do request that you not belittle those whose opinion is different from yours. Really, this goes back to the first ground rule, but I don't think it's an idea that can be too often stated, particularly in our current society.

    The first experience happened about a year ago and it's the one I find the most "questionable", because I was under the influence of pain meds (hydrocodone/acetaminopher 10mg/325mg, which is a pretty decent dose, but not the highest one I've ever taken) while I was in the hospital. In preparation for it, I should tell you that my Dad's parents died a week apart (six days actually) in February of 1987, when I was 10 years old. My mother's father died in 2007 of lung cancer; my mother's mother in October of 2011 after a long battle with dementia and worsening overall health; and my father in September of 2012, all five of them in the town of Tyler, Texas, where I grew up. In December of 2012, 5 days before Christmas, I suffered a severe break to my right ankle that has required four surgeries due to various issues. After the second surgery, the complication of a severe infection in my ankle occurred, said infection finally traveling to my lungs. I was hospitalized for two weeks, the first of which, there was a significant danger of my not surviving. During this time, in addition to my wife and mother being regularly at my bedside, I was also regularly visited by all four of my grandparents and my father, who sometimes spoke to me and other times just held my hand or "sat vigil" with me. As my situation improved, the incidences of their appearances lessened. As I alluded to before, this was not my first experience with surgery or painkillers, particularly Vicodin/Norco (two of the brand names under which hydrocodone are marketed), but I do partially discount this experience due to the pain medications. Still, it was quite comforting and my mother recently told me during a visit that she often felt the presence of others in the room with us during my hospital stay and that she'd seen men outside my room that reminded her of my father and both of my grandfathers as she had known them during their lives.

    Between Tyler and Jacksonville, Texas, on U.S. Hwy 69, there is a sign directing you toward a strange memorial called the Killough Monument. The story is that the Killoughs were a settler family in east Texas in the mid-to-late 19th century. Due to a dispute with a local American Indian band (I believe they were supposed to either be Cherokee or Apache, but I'm not sure on's been a while since I did any research on the event), the Indians (yes, I call my people "Indians") approached the settlers and a conflict erupted and ended with most of the Killough family dead and their homestead burned to the ground. A stone obelisk has been constructed there, and some graves have been consecrated, and the site has been dubbed the Killough Monument. I was always oddly drawn to the Monument, which is a usually very quiet and peaceful place which has few visitors. It's just generally a nice, quiet place to reflect (and, I'll even admit, to make out with girls). I went out there alone when I was in college on one occasion. As usual, there was the "somebody's watching" vibe going on that there usually was around the place, but there were no sounds and nobody visibly around. After a while, as I was feeling a little disturbed out there that particular day, I got in my car and started it up to drive away. After I started the car and put it in reverse, I checked my side mirror and there was a person standing there. It didn't look hazy or "ghostly"; just like a real solid person standing there behind my car, a teenage boy. Since I had been the only one out there for the entire 30 minutes I'd been there, it was a little shocking and I had the flash thought that, this time at least, there was someone else out there visiting the Monument. When I turned around to back out, the person was gone. I turned the car off and got out, looking for the kid, and there was nobody around. I was a little spooked when I got back into the car and the same exact kid was standing in front of my car now. I blinked and he was gone. So, I started my car and went to drive away. As I left the little parking area, I saw a group of about six or eight people standing in the parking lot where my car had been, the teenage boy in front of the rest of the group, but, when I stopped and turned to look back without the mirror, the group was gone. I've been back about a dozen times or more since then and, while I often have the "somebody's watching" vibe, I've never seen anything else along those lines.

    I was staying in the Crockett Hotel in San Antonio, Texas, across the street from the back part of the Alamo. My girlfriend and I had taken a room on the seventh floor and had, after putting our bags in the room, gone out for dinner. When we returned to the room after dinner to put on our bathing suits and go to the hot tub, there was the smell of vanilla-scented pipe tobacco. Our room was a non-smoking room and, on our way to the hot tub, we went down to the front desk and mentioned it, where we were assured that our room had been nonsmoking for years and that the custodial staff would make a written report when they went into a nonsmoking room and somebody had been smoking and that no such report had been filed in that room in months. After the hot tub, where we had a bit of fun, we returned and the tobacco smell was gone, not that either of us would have noticed for the next bit of time, until we were done with our couple's shower. After we showered, we went to bed, exhausted and smiling, and went to sleep. I woke up about 3 a.m. and saw something across the room near the door (there was a little light as I often leave the bathroom light on in a hotel room with the door cracked, in case I need to visit the bathroom in the middle of the night, but I couldn't make out what I was seeing. I picked up and put on my glasses and looked to the area in question, where a man stood...or at least his top half floated. I couldn't see anything below about the rib cage, but the top part of him, up to and including the hat he was wearing, was clear to me. He was looking directly at me and appeared to be solid. He had a small, pencil-thin mustache and was wearing a gray hat, and he was smoking a pipe. The smell of vanilla-scented pipe tobacco reached my nose as he grinned at me, tipped his hat, then turned and "walked" (he didn't have legs I could see, remember) through the door to the hallway. I jumped out of the bed and rand to the door, where I (in all my naked glory) threw open the door. Luckily (considering how naked I and my girlfriend were), nobody was in the hallway going either direction. Of course, my springing from the bed had woken my girlfriend, who was quite interested in my tale and "rewarded my exploits" with another round of coitus (there were some nice things about being 23). The next morning, I spoke to the girl at the front desk while my girlfriend was finishing her breakfast (I happened to know the girl from our affiliations with a couple of Masonic youth organizations years before) and she shared with me that there had been several guest reports of ghostly experiences from the seventh floor and they all seemed to center around Room 711, the room we had stayed in the night before.

    Last one (for now). When I was a kid (from about 7 - 11), my Dad was active with the drill team of the Masonic Knight Templar Commandery (long story), and they practiced on Saturdays at St. Johns Lodge on Front Street in Tyler. The day usually went: men practiced from 10:30 to 12:00 in the parking lot; women took that time for fellowship among themselves and preparing lunch for everybody; kids would play together in the "seating area" on the first floor; nobody went upstairs to the Lodge Room. Random Saturday comes along, I was 8, and I was the only kid who went that day. Men are in the parking lot; women are in the kitchen/dining hall; nobody's around little Wacokid27, who is exploring the building. I went up the stairs to the Lodge Room area on the second floor (one of those spooky, forbidden places that children don't go to on their own, you know) and saw that there was a light on in the Lodge Room. I went in (I mean, the door was open, so....) and saw an old man sitting in a chair near the dais in the east of the room. It was like he was talking to somebody, but there was nobody else in the room. As I walked in, he stopped talking and looked over at me. He was an old man, bald on top, but with long hair around the crown of his head and a beard that reached to his chest. He was heavy and his voice had a Southern accent and sounded, for lack of a better term, "cultured". He waved me over and I talked with the old man for a few minutes when he looked up and told me he thought my Dad was calling me. I told him "Bye!" and walked (you never run in the Lodge Room) out, then ran down the stairs, where I told my Dad about the old man in the Lodge Room. The other men, his fellow Knights Templar, looked at each other and went upstairs (it's a big deal when your eight-year-old son tells you there's an unknown old man sitting up in a room where nobody's known to be at....could be a bad guy) to find him. They looked all around that Lodge Room and the area upstairs only to come up empty. I overheard one of the men tell another that I wasn't the first person to see people up there that weren't there (after I joined that Lodge 13 years later, I would hear about the ghosts of old members that were often seen....and one old Past Master of that Lodge has since told me that he's seen my Dad in the Lodge Room since his death). Anywho, they didn't find anybody and everybody went down and had a quiet lunch. It was about 7 years later that I identified the man I saw that day as Albert Pike, when I saw a bust of General Pike in the San Antonio Scottish Rite Building. Pike, for historical fun, is buried in the House of the Temple in Washington, D.C., and his spirit apparently likes to visit old Masonic Lodge buildings, as there are myriad stories about his ghost being seen even in old buildings that he is not known to have visited (whether or not he was ever in St. Johns Lodge building in Tyler is a matter of some debate).

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  16. I don't believe in anything supernatural (gods/spirits/angels/demons/exorcisms/ghosts/psychics/orbs/etc.) And being quite the perceptive/intuitive mind, it's pretty clear when I think about supernatural beliefs, I'm simply looking at beliefs that'll be looked back on centuries from now as merely the archaic superstitious beliefs of the time... much like we already look at witchcraft and the like today.

    But putting that aside, my mother does believe, and she certainly believes in ghosts, and she's still sure that one day I'll have an experience with seeing one that will convince me that they're real. But it's been a decade and a half since she first said that, and still nothing on that end. I also find it awfully convenient that probably 80% of the time, people who say they've seen ghosts or spirits or whatnot are usually the kind of people whom are already interested in that sort of thing and already want to believe that they're real and exist anyway.

    I know some people have stories and experiences that have convinced them that they're real (and often these stories sound... I don't want to say "convincing", but they do sound unexplainable on the surface), but when you balance those out with all the different stories of the paranormal that have been logically explained, and when you consider that some people with stories or claims about the supernatural have proven to be frauds (and the fact that all we know of in the universe thus far is purely material/naturalistic, which coincides with the non-existence of ghosts and other paranormal entities quite well), I see little reason to think there isn't some type of logical explanation to any and all other stories that someone has about the supernatural, be it ghosts or otherwise.

    Call it presumptuous if you'd like, but that's how I see it.
  17. It's presumptuous. :dawg:j/k.

    I hate it when people say this. Basically, my feeling is that it's, for lack of a better term, a matter of faith. If you believe in ghosts/supernatural forces/etc., then you will look at something unexplained and immediately assign a supernatural cause to it. But, if you don't, then it's likely you never will, for the simple factor that, when you see something unexplained, you will find a "logical" explanation for it, whether that explanation is really logical or not. We believe what we prepare our minds to believe.

    In that, it's not unlike an atheist and a theist. When a theist looks at a beautiful sunset, or a field of flowers, or a gorgeous star-filled night sky, they see the revelation of God's mysterious goodness. When an atheist looks at the exact same phenomena, he sees the wonders of science. We see what we prepare our minds to see.

    Does that make the revelation of God's existence lesser? To a theist, no. To an atheist, yes. It becomes a circular argument and there becomes little room for real debate.

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  18. The weirdest thing that happened to me was this:

    Back when I was 18 my uncle died of lung cancer. The night after we buried him I had a dream where he told me that my other uncle (who he lived with for a long period of time) always took his paycheques. I just chalked it up to being at the funeral and my brain trying to process what happened and had no idea what the paycheque thing was about. My bedroom was in the attic. I woke up after having that dream, walk down to the basement and who do I see talking to my mom? The other uncle that my dead uncle was talking to me about. Coincidence? A message from the other side? I still haven't figured it out. It's the only experience I've had that made me almost believe in an afterlife.
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  19. who wuz phone?
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