By Ally Bolender
Web Content Assistant Manager and News Content Manager
As children, the idea of ghosts and spooky-beings probably sat on a lot of our minds. During those nights as a kid when I was tossing-and-turning, scared to open my eyes and thinking about ghosts standing over me—all I had to do was remind myself that they weren’t real.
I thought everyone got a weird feeling walking around at night after everyone else was asleep, or sprinted up the stairs when the lights turned off. I always knew something felt very strange in my house, but I was also a kid, and most kids are scared of things we don’t see.
My parents purchased this home in 1996, and I was born shortly after in 1998. We moved out around 2010 after our family outgrew the small, suburban Texan home.
It wasn’t until I was about 13 that I brought up how eerie that first house made me feel. And just like it was yesterday, I still remember the words my dad said, “Oh yeah—That house was definitely haunted.”
I turned to my mom, certain that she would shut it down. She is a very hard-working, straightforward woman. She’s never found interest in spirits or the unknown. Surely this is my dad messing with me.
“It definitely was haunted,” she said in agreement.
That evening at the dinner table they told me everything they had seen, heard and experienced in that house. The certainty they both had was frightening. But what was more frightening– I had experienced most of it too.
First, I want to share what happened to me in that first, spooky home.
I remember so clearly one morning when I walked to my parent’s room to chat. I went to open the door, but the doorknobs were taken off. They were removed from all of the doors in their room, even the bathroom.
I asked, “Why’d you take the doorknobs off?” My dad responded, “They broke.”
I was a kid, so I didn’t question why or how doorknobs broke. In my head, they just did. So, I dropped it at that.
Fast-forward to that night: I was trying to sleep in my room. My sister and I had rooms that connected to each other through a jack-and-jill style bathroom. My doors were all shut.
Suddenly, my doorknob started rattling like crazy. I immediately jumped up and yelled at my sister, “Come in, Gracie!”
She didn’t open the door. I thought that she couldn’t hear me, so I kept yelling louder.
“Gracie! Just come in, stop doing that!”
I figured she was doing something dumb, so I let it go. Eventually, after fifteen minutes or so, the rattling stopped and I fell asleep.
It wasn’t until that discussion in our new home about our old haunted house that my parents told me they had to take the doorknobs off because the ghosts would rattle them so much, preventing them from sleeping.
It hit me.
The night they took their doorknobs off—the ghost came to my room. I was yelling at a ghost to shut up. I still remember that whole day so clearly. I remember sitting up in my bed and seeing the doorknob shake violently. I remember screaming at the door, assuming it was my sister trying to get into my room.
After my parents told me that, I 100% believed that the house was haunted. But just in case that’s not enough for you, here are some stories from my Dad describing the encounters that he and my mom experienced in those years at my childhood home.
Featured Image by Ally Bolender