My Grandmother's House

Visitor Article

Submitted By: Anonymous

I have a couple of experiences that I myself have witnessed and some experiences that my family have told me about, all stemming from what used to be my grandmother's house.

We had to live with her to help care for her when I was in the eighth grade. I am 26 years old now, but I remember everything like it was yesterday. The house is located in an area called East Lake and those familiar with Chattanooga will know where I am talking about. Anyway, the house is now occupied by some other family. The house is well over a hundred years old and it used to be an apartment complex until it was turned into a regular house, which is pretty big.

Anyway, from the get go, I never really felt alone in that house. It didn't matter what room I was in, it was like someone else was there too. I never actually did see anything but one night it was my turn to do the dishes and I had piled all the dirty dishes in the middle of the kitchen table. I know for a fact that there were no dishes that were close to the edge of the kitchen table as I didn't have that much to wash. Anyway, I had just put a glass in the middle of the table and I turned around to the sink to start washing some other dishes when I heard a cup fall off the table. Sure enough I turned around and there it was on the floor. I looked around to see if anybody had passed by but I didn't hear anybody come in the kitchen and my parents were in the living room at the time and said they hadn't gotten up in awhile. Needless to say, I didn't finish the dishes that night. Another event that happened to me was really strange and to this day I don't know what it was. I was sitting in the back parlor on a piano bench talking to one of my brothers when I all of a sudden had a really strong emotion of anger come over me. My teeth were gritting together and I tensed up like I was about to attack somebody or something, which was really odd because I was and still am really laid back. But, it passed as quickly as it came. It was like whatever presence was there was using me to show how angry it was at something or somebody, which I seem to believe because that area I was in, I always felt anger in there, and I never liked being in there alone, even in the daytime.

That's about the only experiences I had in the house except for the time me and my whole family witnessed a really old radio turning itself on, which was weird because it never worked before. Now, the experiences of the other family members are a lot more exciting than mine.

My brother claims the back of his t-shirt was pulled in the parlor where the piano is, and he was alone. My mother heard a group of people talking one night, she thought it was us kids or the t.v. but the t.v was turned off and us kids were in bed sound asleep. She heard those voices more than once, and every time, no explanation could be found.

These next events are from my father that he had as a boy growing up in the house. I always thought these stories were told just to scare us kids, but now we are grown, he still swears that they are true.

When he was a boy, he slept in a room that would be considered in the attic. He was trying to go to sleep when he heard something walk toward him and grab his leg. He said whatever grabbed him was really cold and the fingers were really skinny, like kinda bony. He saw whatever was there, but I can't remember the description of it. Also, when he was a teenager, he was in the dining room bathroom fixing his hair or whatever, when he saw someone peer around the door. He thought it was his brother, but his findings were fruitless, no one was in the house at the time. Also, when he was a teenager, he was sleeping in a room downstairs and he was fully awake just lying there when all of a sudden the bed starting shaking violently, so much that the bed posts were coming up off the floor. Needless to say, he said he quickly got the hell out of there!! That's about all the things I remember from that house, although I'm sure there are more that I have just forgotten.