DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOST'S?
“Do you believe in ghosts?” is a question we’ve all, either asked or have been asked at sometime in our lives.
I always answer YES to that question, and then go on to relate some of the things that have happened to make me convinced
that there are things out there which defy explanation. It’s my belief, also, that paranormal experiences don’t occur when you’re
looking for them, they only happen when you’re unprepared.
I have had many in explicable experiences, always unexpected, and here is what I consider to be the most important one, simply
because I had documented it and had a witness to part of it.
In 1956 when I was a child of 12 years, I visited a farm house in North Lincolnshire with my aunt and cousin Michael. I totally
fell in love with the place and its atmosphere of peace. The slowly ticking grandfather clock, sunlight through the windows
lighting up the motes of dust and the table in the centre of the room, filled with all kinds of pies and cakes, baked by my aunt’s
mother in law, an elderly lady in her eighties.
Outside was a magical garden, long and narrow with an orchard at the end, filled with apple and pear tress and chickens pecking on
the ground beneath them.
I revisited the house a couple more time, the last one, before my strange story, was in 1959, the year I left school.
I’m now moving on to 1983. I had just graduated from Hull Art College and was feeling a very strong urge to return to the
farmhouse.
Originally, the journey was made by crossing the Humber by ferry, but now, 24 years on, the bridge was built, so I took the bus to
Barton and the train.
My habit in those days, was to carry a small sketch book and draw anything that interested me. Therefore, when I arrived I did
several small sketches and, as usual, DATED THEM. This was my first proof that I was THERE at the time I had said I was.
Because such a long time had passed since I was there, I had difficulty remembering the way, but I thought I’d managed fairly well,
until I came to a road junction on the outskirts of the village. I had no idea which way to go. To the left the road seemed to go
to the back and beyond. While the road to the right went over an unmanned level crossing to a railway cottage. I decided to go
and ask directions from the people in the cottage.
I crossed over the line, heard the swing gate bang shut behind me and walked up to the front door, which was part of some sort of
lean-to veranda across the front of the cottage.
After knocking at the door I noticed how clean and new everything looked. The green painted woodwork was spotless while the
windows were so shiny I was very impressed.
The door was opened by a man in a wheelchair. He was about 68 years old. When I asked directions to the farmhouse I’d once visited,
and mentioned the name of the old couple who had lived there, he looked really surprised. “By your going back some time.
Are you sure you really want to go? You might be upset when you see how it’s changed.” I answered, saying that as it was 24
years since my last visit, I expected it to have changed and was prepared for it.
At that moment his wife came to the door and, after being told the story, repeated what her husband had just said regarding the
changes made to the farmhouse.
I thanked them both for their concern, but insisted that as I’d come so far I would continue with my plan. I said goodbye and with
their calls of “good luck” ringing after me, I set off in the direction they indicated.
During my walk to the farmhouse, I thought back over the conversation, remembering how the sun shone on the chrome wheels of the
chair, glinting and catching my eye.
Looking back after all these years I am convinced that the shine was not usual. I’m not sure how, but I think there was a hardness
or contravenes about it and this is why it seems to be an important part of what happened.
The couple were right in assuming that I would be upset by the changes. The house was altered and painted shiny white with ugly
fences at the side. But it was the garden which upset me more. Six mock Georgian houses and bungalows has been built there.
I sat on the grass verge and cried.
Sadly, I made my way home.
It was 11 months later in May, that I saw the advert in the Hull Daily Mail. The railway cottage was up for sale at a very low
price.
A friend took me to see the cottage with a view to putting in an offer for it, I had previously told him all about the place and
was looking forward to seeing the old couple, again.
When we arrived I couldn’t believe my eyes. The veranda had gone. We looked through the living room window and saw that the once
immaculate home had become almost derelict.
How could this have happened in less than a year?
Soot filled the hearth, dirty damp wallpaper hung from the walls, the floorboard were scorched and rubbish was scattered everywhere.
The windows, which only 11 months ago had shone so brightly, were now festooned in huge dusty cobwebs. We looked in the other
windows but it was the same in each room. The garden was full of huge clumps of dead grass. I said, “There is no way I could
ever live here, there’s such an awful feeling of death.” I shuddered and walked away.
Back in the village we decided to go to the pub for a drink and a sandwich. We sat in the bay window with the sun warming us.
Apart from the landlord and one customer, we were the only other people in the bar.
The landlord had obviously been listening to our conversation regarding the cottage, because he interrupted us asking if I intended
putting in an offer. He told me that it blacked onto his land and he really wanted it. I told him that I wasn’t interested but
then asked him how long had it been empty, seeing as it was in such a terrible state.
He and the customer at the bar deliberated for a while. Was it 7 or 8 ? They finally agreed that it had been empty for 8 YEARS.
THAT IT HAD BEEN EMPTY SINCE MR ….. HAD DIED. I said “NO, NO, WHAT ABOUT THE MAN IN THE WHEELCHAIR?” They
said “AYE, THAT WAS HIM. HE DIED 8 YEARS AGO AND HIS WIFE WENT TO LIVE WITH HER DAUGHTER NOT LONG AFTER.”
I was very shaken and so was my friend. I tried to find out who was selling the house but D.D.M. wouldn’t tell me.
Just think, if I hadn’t returned, I would never have know, about this. How many times might this have happened before?
IT MIGHT EVEN HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU.
Below are a list of Ghostly Tales which the Hull UFO Society have been sent.
They give insights to strange paranormal events happening in Hull and the surrounding areas.
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and if you want to use any of this material you should contact us at:
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Do You Believe In Ghost's?
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