You either believe in ghosts or you don't. If you don't, they still make a nice story around Halloween. Being a Christian, I do believe in spirits, angels, etc. I do believe spirits come back at times. I do believe spirits sometimes have unfinished business.

One time in the Philippines, I told F.B. I would tell him ONE ghost story. I ended up keeping him awake until 6am talking, haha!

I've lived in 2 "haunted" houses in Philadelphia that stick out in my mind. The one home we lived in for 11 years. It was a 3 story row home with 5 bedrooms. All the other row homes were 2 stories on our block. This house was built in the early 1900's. It still had the original gas lights on walls in the house though they no longer worked.

The very first night we moved in (I was only 10-11 years old.) I heard someone walking down the long dark hallway. I got up and went to my doorway to say goodnight to what I thought was one of my parents. No one was there... I think I ended up reading the rest of the night with my night light on!

That would happen a lot after that. You would hear someone coming down the hallway but no one ever appeared.

We would always hear someone running up and down the 3rd story stairs at night time- continually on occasions. The 3rd story had it's own separate corridor from the rest of the house. There were two bedrooms up there that were supposed to eventually become mine and my brothers but no one really wanted to sleep up there. You would just get this strange "feeling" when you went up there.

Sometimes you would hear organ music coming from the 3rd floor. All of the other houses were 2 stories so it wasn't coming from our neighbor- who you could hear talking sometimes down on the lower floors.

There had been a fire in the kitchen years before we moved into the house. The one day my mom was down in the basement doing laundry and there was smoke coming from the kitchen. This awful burning sulfur rubber smell. I ran into the kitchen to see if the oven was on and it wasn't. Called my mom upstairs. By that time the smoke had disappeared.

We had wall to wall carpeting in the house. The one day we were all down the basement, my mom and brothers. We heard loud heavy boots clomping on a wooden floor upstairs. My mom ran upstairs because the neighborhood we were in wasn't the best and she thought someone had entered the house. She checked everywhere but couldn't find anyone. It was after wards we thought- how could boots make a clomping sound on carpeting?

This happened to my mom one time she was alone in the house with my baby brother. The same thing- she heard footsteps and thought someone had broken into the house. But she couldn't find anyone. She ended up calling my dad.

My mom has said there would be times she would feel some one tap her and think it was one of us kids. She would turn around, but no one would be there. 

Doors would occasionally blow open in that house. It was really annoying. Even if you locked them. 

Sometimes at night I would feel someone sit down on the end of my bed. It would freak me out.

When our younger brothers were born (a year apart.) My younger brother and I shared a room for awhile. We had bunk beds and would sleep with our bedroom door open. The one night my little brother came into the room- (I saw his shadow in the door way.) He sat down onto the bed on the bottom bunk. I started to talk to him and he didn't answer me. I said his name louder. Then he started calling from the bathroom next to our room- he had been in there the whole time.

There would be times when I would be sleeping in and feel someone sitting or laying down onto the bottom bunk when my brother wasn't there. Eventually I just got used to feeling the bed move or squeak.

About 6 years ago we moved to Northeast Philadelphia. To a two story twin home. You would occasionally hear someone walking in the hallway at night there too. We had wooden floors there. I hated going into the basement because I felt like someone was watching me down there. (Part of the basement had been finished with a kitchen, etc.) You got this weird "feeling" down in the basement. I kept mentioning it to my mom, who eventually said, "We didn't want to tell you after the last house- the old lady who lived here before, died down there."

There were strange things in the garage there. Strange fluids in jars that the old owners had to remove before we moved in. There were tons of anatomy books and embalming books in the attic. Most were moldy and destroyed. They were from the 1900's. The one I kept (and still have) that wasn't too damaged was from 1905. After we found the books we wondered if the fluids in the jars had been formaldehyde or something. We think one of the past owners worked for a funeral home... perhaps...

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