The Sallie House Haunting: A True Story Page 4

  Although we tried to engage in small talk to pass the time while we waited, the conversation returned to the strange things that had already happened. Several times during the conversation, we would all get up and go to the nursery to check for activity. Each time, we found things just the way we’d left them. We began to feel very foolish.

  Finding things unchanged on the third trip to the nursery, Larry suggested putting the items in the same positions as we had found them. “Maybe then something will happen,” he said loudly. I know he was trying hard to give us all the benefit of his doubt. We arranged all the teddy bears as we had originally found them and once again headed down the stairs. Larry continued asking us questions we had already asked ourselves several times. Could the cats have done it? Had anyone else been in the house? Could a breeze or a gust of wind through an open window topple the toys into their positions? And the biggest question of all: had any of us been out of each other’s sight?

  He was trying to make sense of it all and at the same time trying to catch us off guard, but he came up just as empty-handed as we had. Eventually, he ran out of reasonable explanations for what we had witnessed. Larry seemed to be quite puzzled about the whole situation, and was probably convinced that it was all a big joke at his expense. After twenty more minutes or so, we all went back upstairs to again find things just as we had left them.

  To give our ghost a little more time to “show off” I stood in the middle of the baby’s room and hesitantly spoke into the air. “It’s OK, you can play now.” It was a desperate attempt to get the action we were hoping for so we could confirm the fact that we weren’t all crazy. I felt ridiculous and I know I must have looked the part as well. We returned to the first floor and the couch. Suddenly Tony pointed to a stuffed beanbag teddy bear he had given to me as a Christmas gift the year before. It weighed about a pound and stood about twelve inches high. Normally it sat next to the television, facing the room. Now it was facing the wall.

  Tony asked, “Who turned it to the wall?”

  Of course, all conversation immediately stopped, and in thin, disbelieving voices we each took turns saying, “I didn’t.” My heart jumped into my throat, my body throbbed with a new surge of adrenaline, and all the nerves that had finally settled down since Larry’s arrival were once again standing at attention. Larry was the only one who remained calm and skeptical. He asked for our assurance that none of us had moved it and questioned whether it hadn’t been that way earlier.

  Karen was quick to tell him, “The last time we were all downstairs, I remember looking at it and it was facing forward.” As she continued to speak, the bear in question never left her sight because she glared at it from the corner of her eye, almost daring it to move again. “The bear was facing forward. I swear!” she said with the strength of her conviction.

  The three of us just sat there, unable to move or speak for several minutes. During this silence Larry went over and picked up the bear, and then broke the silence. Surprised, he said, “Boy, it’s heavy!” Then he put it back down, making sure it was facing forward. Although he didn’t want to admit to the possibility of a ghost, he did acknowledge that there was definitely something weird going on in the house. What it was he didn’t know, but he could tell from how shaken the three of us appeared, that we were genuinely upset and in need of some answers.

  Larry offered to talk to his boss’ sister, Barbara, who was coming to town. She was a well-known psychic who had grown up in town but currently lived in California. “I’ll get back to you tomorrow,” he said, as he closed the front door, leaving us in complete silence.

  Not knowing what to do next, we sat quietly. Our eyes roamed the room, watching for some sort of movement. Restless and wanting to talk to someone, Tony phoned his mother and told her what had happened. She suggested that we pack up a few things and spend the night with her. Tony told her that if anything more happened, it would be our first move.

  None of us felt right about imposing on her with four unexpected guests for the night, and I didn’t want the added hassle of packing all the things we would need to take with us. “There’s nothing wrong,” we thought. “We’re strong, nothing really bad has happened. We are perfectly fine because all of this might just be in our heads.”

  Although we were willing to stay in the house, we had to figure out new sleeping arrangements. Karen did not want to sleep alone on the couch as she had been doing. Without thinking, I blurted out, “Perhaps Tony or I could sleep downstairs with you.” Tony’s instant response was, “Don’t think you’re going to leave me upstairs alone!” We laughed. The laughter helped eased the tension, but none of us wanted to be alone. Eventually we decided that the safest, most comforting place to sleep would be behind locked doors in the master bedroom.

  To this day, each of us laughs at how stupid and childish our reasoning had become by that point of the evening. It’s funny that we thought a locked door would stop a ghost. There was really nothing that would stop it from coming into the room with us.

  It was now 1:35 a.m. When we had gathered up all that we needed for the night and headed upstairs, we were almost too apprehensive to look into the nursery. At first we thought everything was just as we had left it. However, hanging from a cloth handle on the nursery room doorknob, had been a tiny stuffed heart with the print of a small teddy bear. Tony didn’t have to utter a word as he pointed to it; we all knew there was something wrong as we looked at his face. The heart had been turned around so that the bear print faced the door. Although we were not quite sure at what point it had been turned around, Karen remembered admiring it just before we had left for our visit to Mom and Dad’s earlier that afternoon.

  It’s remarkably hard to put into words all the feelings I had at that moment. Although the stuffed heart being turned around may seem insignificant, it was just enough to set off what little nerves I had left. One minute I was cool, calm, and seemingly in control; the next my heart was again in my throat. As suddenly as the realization hit us we all tried to scream, but all that would come out were faint screeches. Terror-stricken, we ran into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut behind us.

  I had collected many plush bears over the years, and it was common to see them in every room of the house. The master bedroom was no different. Once inside the room, I caught sight of them and stood motionless as a dreadful thought came to mind: would the stuffed animals indulge in more playful activity? I barely extended my finger to point to the very large teddy bear on the top of the highboy. I quietly whispered, “The bears; there’re lots of them in here.” I looked at the bears and determined that none of them had been moved. We each made a mental note for later comparison.

  Huddling in the bedroom and feeling ridiculous, we soon realized we had not brought up the television, VCR, or movies. This meant another trip downstairs. We figured two people could bring up what was needed in one trip, and Tony and Karen headed down to the first floor.

  While collecting the equipment we needed, Tony and Karen surveyed their surroundings for anything peculiar. Paranoid by this time, they took particular notice of the bean bag teddy bear sitting next to the television. Karen remembered the video camera she had brought with her from New York and set it up to film what she could of the living room. She hoped she might capture something on film during the night.

  Ready to return to the second floor, Karen carried the VCR and the movies. Tony, about two feet behind her, carried the television and cords. Karen had taken approximately four steps past the corner of the doorway and was still able to see Tony. He was on the other side of the living room doorway, battling with the cumbersome load in his arms, when he spotted a quick movement out of the corner of his right eye.

  Something had moved right where the television had been. Tony saw that the bean bag bear, which had been facing forward the whole time they were downstairs, was now facing the wall. In the blink of an eye, the bear had spun
around. When it did, Tony just happened to catch a glimpse of the movement.

  Realizing what happened, he let out a horrified, “Oh shit!” Karen asked, “What?” Tony was unable to move or speak, and when Karen looked, she noticed the position of the bear herself and screamed, “Oh my God!” They bolted up the stairs and burst into the bedroom, both very much out of breath. After regaining what little composure they had left, they told me what had happened. Then Karen suddenly blurted out in exasperation, “I forgot to turn the video camera on!” We were a little disheartened but knew none of us were going to brave another trip outside that room.

  After recapping the terrifying events of the evening, we simply sat there: three adults scared half out of our wits, one sleeping infant, a large dog, and three cats, all in a small upstairs bedroom. I put the baby down in his cradle and the rest of us sat close on the bed, waiting for our nerves to calm and our heartbeats to return to normal. Karen and I arranged the cushions on the floor with a sheet and blanket while Tony set up the TV and VCR. Ironically, we had rented two horror movies. Lucky for us, the third rental was a comedy, which we unanimously voted to watch! Eventually, we fell asleep.

  five

  The next morning, Tony left for work about 6:45. Around 8:00 a.m., Taylor, Karen, and I woke up. We puttered around upstairs, getting ready for the day, and didn’t see anything amiss. We talked about how foolish we had been the night before and laughed about how ridiculous we’d acted. It was embarrassing to think about how we had run around in such a panic.

  Karen got dressed and went downstairs to pack the rest of her things for the flight home. After the activities of the previous night, I was rather shocked when she went downstairs alone, but since she had an early flight back to Buffalo, it left us very little time to get out the door and be on our way. Our experiences from the night before seemed like a distant dream. Daylight is an amazing boost for bravery.

  Since she had forgotten to turn on the video camera, Karen felt confident nothing had been recorded. She began to pack up the recorder without reviewing the tape. Just as she was about to dismantle it, she noticed that the viewfinder had been pulled into an upright position. Although this was not the position she had left it in, she thought maybe Tony had played with it before leaving for work and didn’t give it much thought.

  Curious to see if he had recorded anything, she put her eye to the viewfinder. She was puzzled by her immediate ability to see a portion of the room she was in. She knew that when you could see through the viewfinder, it meant that the camera was in an energy saving stand-by mode that lasted only a few minutes before the camera shut itself off. In other words, someone or something had interacted with the camera only a few minutes before she’d peered into the viewfinder. Thinking the camera had possibly malfunctioned, and not wanting to draw unwarranted conclusions, she packed it up without saying a word.

  En route to the airport, Karen pulled out the camera to film some interesting sights. Kansas and Missouri had had so much rain prior to her arrival that it flooded our whole area, including much of the road to the airport. While filming, she told me what she had noted before leaving the house. During the drive, we tested the automatic shutoff. It seemed to work perfectly, taking the normal three minutes to shut down. We did the math—Tony had left for work more than an hour before Karen or I got up, which meant he couldn’t have caused the camera’s “ready” mode. When I asked Tony about it later, he said he hadn’t touched the camera.

  Although we talked as we drove the rest of the way to the airport, we avoided any talk of ghosts. As Karen started to board her plane, I said with pleading eyes and voice, “Hope you had a good time.” We both laughed as she responded, “It sure turned out to be an interesting visit!” The sound of her laughter and the happy look on her face assured me that she had enjoyed herself despite the last twenty-four hours of hair-raising experiences.

  On the long drive home my mind wandered over the many odd things that had happened during Karen’s last night. Before I knew it I was parking the car in front of our house. I really didn’t feel nervous or scared as I opened up the front door. I was, however, anxious to see if anything would happen while I was there alone. I decided to make every effort to go about my normal activities as naturally as possible.

  As I walked through the house, I could feel my muscles tighten with each step. I scrutinized each room, trying to note where and how various items were placed. I felt like a soldier walking around in an unfamiliar jungle: eyes focused forward, neck stiff, and mind acutely tuned to my surroundings. I paid especially close attention to what I could see in my peripheral vision.

  Although I was quite eager for something to happen, I was also very apprehensive. I had always hoped for the experience of turning around to suddenly see a ghostly figure standing or floating behind me, unable to make itself disappear before I caught sight of it. But now that it was actually a possibility, I wasn’t sure how I would react. Would I be able to handle it calmly or would I jump out of my skin?

  As the hours went by with nothing ghost-like happening, I began to suspect that ghosts were active only during darkness. The uneasy feelings and elevated stress diminished, and before long my sense of curiosity began to surface. The events of the previous night seemed like a movie, something that hadn’t really happened. To validate that we really did have paranormal activity, I needed to experience it again. Feeling much calmer, more collected and clear-headed than the night before, I began to think about how much I had wanted such an experience. The opportunity to experiment with spirit communication was at my finger tips, and I was actually getting excited about it.

  Tony was often late getting home from work because he’d stop at his parents’ house for a visit. On this day, however, he was unusually late and I began to worry. Had the events of the previous night gotten to him? Had he decided not to come home at all? When he finally he showed up, he was barely into the living room before he began telling me what his mother had just told him.

  After Tony’s phone call to her the previous night, her curiosity had gotten the best of her. While I was taking Karen to the airport, Tony’s mother, whom I’ve always called “Mom,” contacted a long-time acquaintance who happened to be the mother of the house’s previous tenant. Mom had asked if the woman had ever experienced anything odd while living in the house. This woman volunteered to call her daughter who was currently living in another state. Later in the day, the woman returned Mom’s call with some interesting information.

  Her daughter reported that she would often smell something odd or foul in the house. She also said that her young son had slept in the corner bedroom, now the nursery. She went on to say that she was always picking up his toys and reprimanding him for not putting them away. The boy would often retort, “But, Mama, I didn’t play with those toys.” The mother had always chalked it up to the typical fibs of a child not wanting to be responsible for picking up his toys.

  She added that her daughter had had the bedroom with the walk-in closet. She hadn’t remembered anything strange about the room, with one exception. She remembered her little girl had not only grown attached to an imaginary playmate named Sallie, but would entertain herself for hours playing with her in the closet. Remarkably, the little girl had not spoken of Sallie since moving away.

  We found the information quite interesting. “Perhaps we have a little girl ghost by the name of Sallie?” I wondered out loud. We both just looked at each other, silently wondering if this was a possibility.

  Tony’s brother Larry called. His boss, Annie, had called her sister Barbara and briefly relayed our experiences. Barbara, without having met or talked to us, said she felt we had the spirit of an young girl between five and thirteen years old. She also felt the little spirit not only liked the house and felt comfortable there, but was protecting a baby.

  Barbara also explained that the movement of the stuffed animals was probably this lit
tle spirit playing with them as if they were her own toys. Barbara had asked Annie whether or not our baby could see this spirit. Even through Annie did not know much about the situation and couldn’t answer the question, Barbara had felt confident that Taylor probably could. She had explained to Annie that controlled testing using infrared cameras has shown that young children can see spirits whereas adults—even those sitting right next to the children—cannot. Annie couldn’t answer the next question Barbara had asked either: “Has the baby been waking up a lot during the night?”

  The idea that Barbara had known to ask this question indicated she had been able to focus on what had been taking place in our home and she was trying to verify what her psychic abilities had been picking up. As a new mom uncertain of my motherly instincts, I had often blamed myself concerning Taylor’s night time sleeping habits; I just knew I must be doing something wrong. Not wanting others to think of me as a failure or a bad mother incapable of taking care of Taylor, I had told no one of the baby’s sleeping trouble except my sister. For Barbara to have hit on such a major issue from as far away as California, not to mention by way of a fourth party, was truly astonishing—and it eased the thoughts that it had somehow been my fault.

  I held the phone tightly to my ear, listening to the information Barbara had provided. While doing so, I began to draw even more parallels. For instance, I found it uncanny that Barbara had described our spirit as a young girl, the same conclusion I had come to. The idea that she believed the spirit was “playing” with the stuffed animals again paralleled my thoughts. “It’s okay, you can play now,” I’d said in the nursery.

  Barbara suggested we tell the ghost that although she was welcome to stay with us, she would have to behave; she could play with the toys, but she had to put them back when she was done. We were also instructed to make it clear that this was our house and if she wanted to stay with us, she would have to follow our rules.