Saturday, September 06, 2008

Boo To You Too ...

In 1952 when I was 15 years old my family moved from Pipkin Street in South Park to an older house located on Concord Road in north Beaumont. Our “new” house was built back in the mid-1920s. It was a large spacious edifice with room to spare for our family of four. A few months after we moved in, my sister, Ann, married and moved out. This left just me and my two parents with all of that living space.

I’ll not reveal the exact address because of the nature of this article. I do not want the present owner of that property to be unduly concerned. After we were moved in and settled, things began to happen. I mean strange little things that we could not explain.

The house was built on blocks and some of the flooring creaked when you walked through some of the rooms. The living room had an identifiable creak as did the dining room and kitchen. In other words, you could know which room someone was in by the sound of the creaks.

One night I woke up and heard someone moving around in the kitchen. I assumed my dad had gotten up to get himself a glass of water as he had the habit of doing. I kept listening for him to return to his bedroom but everything was silent. Out of curiosity I got up and went to the kitchen. No one was in there. I went into the hall that led to my parents’ bedroom. I could hear both of them breathing as they slept. Then I became frightened. Who had I heard walking around in the kitchen? I never learned the answer to that question.

One night my mother got up because she heard someone in the kitchen. When she looked, there was a young lady standing at the sink. Mom asked, “Who are you and what do you want?” The lady did not reply but instead turned and walked out of the kitchen area into our den. My mother followed her asking her what she wanted. The young lady seemed to “just go away” as my mother described it to Dad and me.

Another night all three of us were awakened by a clatter in the kitchen. My dad jumped up to investigate. I was too scared to move so I stayed in bed and just listened. Several pots and pans had fallen to the floor. We never knew how that managed to occur.

On several occasions, all at night, there were loud knocks in our attic like someone pounding on wood with their fist. This was another unsolved mystery.

One night the doorknob on my bedroom door rattled like someone was opening the door to enter. I anticipated seeing my mom or dad. Soon I realized that no one was there. Why did the doorknob rattle? To this day I do not know.

There were several nights I heard someone walking through the house but was too scared to investigate. I decided that whatever it was would bring no harm our way.
I do not claim that our old house was haunted. I really do not believe in that sort of thing. But the questions remain unanswered. What explanations were there for such episodes as I’ve described.

I called my sister who still lives in Beaumont to see if she objected to my writing about our haunted house. I did not want to embarrass the family name. She told me to go ahead. In fact she reminded me of some of the strange goings on that have been shared in this account.

Do you think our old house in north Beaumont could be haunted? I seriously doubt it.

But on the other hand …

Winston Hamby


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