The Ghost of "Great Grammy"

I am a 16-year-old boy from a small city called Malden in Massachusetts. My parents moved into my house when I was only a few months old. Now the story behind my house, is that it is quite old, and belonged to my great grandparents, my mother's grandparents. They lived here for MANY years, my great grandparents moved in when they were young newlyweds; they had a number of children, and were quite happy living in this house.

My great grandmother or "Great Grammy" as we called her, died at a fairly young age due to heavy smoking; I sadly never had the pleasure of meeting her myself, as she had died many years before I was in the picture. With his wife gone, my great grandfather lived in this home all by himself, until he grew to old and could no longer care for himself, so he entered a nursing home. When he left the house, and we moved in, we kept things how they were for a number of years, but eventually my mother began to do some renovations to the house, little things here and there.

Then when I was around 9 or years old and some discussion of remodeling the kitchen (which had been unchanged since the house was built) some strange things started happening. It began small, my mother, my father, my older sister and I would be sitting at the kitchen table having dinner, and a plate that was sitting in a rack drying off (we had no dishwasher at this point) would randomly fall over. No one really thought anything of it because it only happened roughly once a week. But after about 3 weeks it began to happen more frequently, no one really had any idea what was going on when one night after it happened my father said to us, “ Hey, Maybe it’s Great Grammy paying us a visit.” We all laughed it off, but then the next day after the plate tipped over, the door to the basement (located in the kitchen) popped open then suddenly slammed shut. From this point we all began to reconsider the statement about the possible visits from great grammy. Soon the tipping of the plate, and the movements of the basement door were happening every night, and it occurred only during our dinner.

We all believed it was great grammy, so every night after the “show” my mother would say, “Oh, Hey Gram”

very kindly. One night, after the visit, my sister asked my mother, “Hey mom, why is she visiting us?”

and my father replied, “I don’t know, maybe she is just looking for Great Grampy”. We grew very used to these visits as they happened every night, and one night before dinner, I was in the basement searching for a bottle of soda, our basement is not finished, the floor is half concrete and half dirt, but there is a refrigerator down there for extra storage in case the one in the kitchen fills up. Anyhow, I was down in my basement and as I rummaged through the fridge I felt a little strange. I backed away from the fridge and looked down to the other end of the basement, I thought I saw something colored gray and white, but it had disappeared within about 2 seconds of my seeing it, I figured I was seeing things. I called up to my mother whom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner “Mom! I think I someone is down here!” “WHAT?” she cried nervously, “Yeah, I saw something but it disappeared.”

I yelled up. She then replied with a giggle, “ Oh, It’s Just Grammy”. Now I was quite scared, even If I was just seeing things. I quickly went back to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of Pepsi and closed the door.

I was heading for the stairs, and I stopped and took another look, I saw nothing to my disappointment, but I turned back toward to the stairs when I heard a deep sigh coming from directly behind me. I quickly spun around, but saw no one. I thought to myself, it’s just grammy, it’s just grammy, say hello to her. I was very scared and I said out loud, “ H…Hel….Hello Grammy.” I heard nothing, but there was a thud from a little ways into the basement and an old scratched up baseball rolled into my path. I began to shiver in fear; I quickly walked over to the ball and picked it up. It felt peculiarly warm for something sitting on a cold dirt floor for god knows how many years. I took my soda and the ball and I ran back upstairs. We had dinner and the usual plate tip and door actions took place. I showed the ball to my father and he was inspecting it and he said, “ WOW! Take a look at this!” he held the ball to my face and in blue ink scratched in the bottom and slightly worn away was the name “Wesley” which was the name of my great grandfather. Then the night soon came to an end.

The next day was my grandfathers 93rd birthday, and the entire family was going to visit him in the nursing home. They had put pictures taken all during his life up on the walls of the room that we were having the party in. My father was with me as I looked at the pictures, there was one of him and my great grandmother and she was wearing a large white sweater, and next to it was another picture of my great grandfather standing in my backyard, with a baseball bat in his right hand and a baseball in his left. I felt very strange seeing as how I think I had that very same ball, so I decided to stop looking at pictures and get back to the party. 2 days later my great Grandfather died peacefully in his sleep. He was buried with his wife, and the very day he was buried the actions with the plate tipping and the basement door opening and slamming stopped completely. We never heard from her again. I believe she was simply lonely and searching for her husband, when they were reunited, she could finally rest in peace. I am now 16 years old, and I have never had another ghost experience, but I still get a shiver when I enter my basement, and I have kept the ball in my room since the very day I found it. Until the day I die I will remember my experience with The Ghost of “Great

By: jamirault_mvus@yahoo.com