HAUNTED OREGON

(Discussion Board Files courtesy of Matt Muller)

 

 

Netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!qualcomm.com!kthompson.qualcomm.com!user Wed Nov  9 18:37:21 1994Xref: netcom.com alt.folklore.ghost-stories:8424Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!qualcomm.com!kthompson.qualcomm.com!userFrom: kristyt@qualcomm.com (Kristy Marie Thompson)Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-storiesSubject: Strange things in OregonFollowup-To: alt.folklore.ghost-storiesDate: 9 Nov 1994 00:33:15 GMTOrganization: Qualcomm Inc.Lines: 80Distribution: worldMessage-ID: <kristyt-081194151404@kthompson.qualcomm.com>NNTP-Posting-Host: kthompson.qualcomm.com(some names have been changed)

 

O.k. here goes.  Six years ago I was in Oregon, visiting my mother, when my cousin Vance died.  He was only 27 years old, and left behind a wife and two extremely devastated (sp?) parents.  Now before I go into telling how he died and what happened afterwards I should tell you that before Lance died he had a lot of contact with ghosts.  He had at least 4 that I know of in his and his wife Linda's house.  They (the ghosts) were constantly "at play" as he liked to put it.  I can remember one time when we were all sitting around in the front room and everything flew off of the fireplace mantel.  Like someone had just swiped there arm across it.  Now this scared the HELL out of me, but Vance just said "real funny, put it all back".  Well we left to go to dinner and when we returned everything was back up on the mantel.  That summer a lot of strange things happened in that house.  So many in fact I stopped being scared and started accepting it as the norm.  Near the end of the summer, we all (me, my cousin Laura, my mom, step dad, my uncle, Vance, and his wife Linda) went up to the Illinois river to go camping.  While we were there Vance and my uncle got into a fight over the 30 foot waterfall on whether or not there was a ledge that went underneath of it.  After 10 minutes of arguing, my uncle said "fine, if there is a ledge, you take me down there and show me the ledge!"  So down to the water they went, Vance and my uncle, leaving me and my cousin Laura on the cliff above to watch.  Vance made it to the ledge but my uncle was no where to be seen (we later found out that he couldn't make it around the side of the waterfall so he went back).  Well Laura and myself could see Vance down below under the waterfall.  As a matter of fact we could see him perfectly (sp?) since there was a split in the waterfall about half way.  He looked up at us and gave a kind of nod and stepped off of the ledge.  He disappeared in the water and never came up.  They called in divers and found him 2 days later wedged up under the same ledge he had been standing and stepped off of.  The pressure from the waterfall had basically sucked him up under the ledge and held him there until the divers found him and pried him loose.  I say he committed suicide. The day of the funeral was when things started happening.  Linda was getting dressed and she was having trouble with a couple of things.  First off (don't laugh), she couldn't decide what bra to ware. The white one or the blue one.  She chose the white.  Then she couldn't find the ring that Vance had bought her when they were first engaged.  She had always kept it in the top drawer of her jewelry box, but it wasn't there.  Frustrated, she went to Vances parents house.  When she got there she told Vances mom about the ring.  "Well honey, why don't you where his class ring, it's in my jewelry box." Well when Linda opened the jewelry box, there was the ring that she had been looking for.  How it got into Vances mothers box no one knows.  Ghost? Maybe.  Well we all went to the funeral and the whole time I felt like I (we) were being watched from the tree branch directly above.  You know that feeling when all the hair on your neck stands up and you get the creeps.  But nothing was up there.  I know because I kept looking.  On the way home my mom asked me why I kept looking up and I told here that I felt someone watching me (us).  She just said "I know."  After dinner and a bit of comforting, Linda decided to go home.  When she got there the blue bra, which she was thinking of wearing earlier, was laid out on the front door step, as if to say "you should have worn this one".  She just smiled and decided that it was Vance.  As the weeks went on, little things would happen.  Like love notes that he would leave her (when he was alive) all of a sudden started popping up all over the place (after the funeral she had thrown them all away).  Or doors would be locked in the morning if she had forgotten to lock them the night before. Little protective things.  Like he was watching out for her.    But then things started to take a turn.  The nice little things that he would do for here turned into malicious things.  Things that she needed would be missing, or doors would start slamming in the middle of the night and wake her up.  Glass was breaking in the kitchen.  She stopped sleep well at night because (apart from the doors slamming) she heard footsteps walking around here bed constantly all night, every night.  One time she was getting ready to go to dinner with a friend, she was sitting at her vanity and (like with the fireplace mantel) everything flew across the room.  Very upset she screamed "Put it all back NOW!!!" and stormed out of the room. When she came back everything was back on the vanity. But soon anger and frustration gave way to fear as she started to think that maybe this ghost wasn't Vance.  And it turns out that she was right, and the worst was yet to come............ But that I will write about another time. I've written enough today already. Thanks for reading, Kristy Thompsonkristyt@qualcomm.comQualcomm Inc.

 

 

Subject: Haunted in Ashland

From: mecca@crl.com (Caroline Hostetler)

Date: 15 May 1995 17:43:20 -0700

Message-ID: <3p8sf8$jog@crl10.crl.com>

 

Recently I went to Ashland, Oregon (right on the south east border, twenty miles from California) to see the Shakespearean Festival with my Advanced Drama class. We stayed in an old hotel, the Marc Antony, a quaint little old style 8 story building with an elevator that takes a

half an hour. Well, sure enough there was a ghost story circulating around. I forget the room number (bit could find it out if anyone is interested) but apparently some guy killed himself there. threw himself out the window or something. So anyways, last year my friend Damian (who told us all this story, of course) and this guy Gavin stayed in the room (unknowingly, I believe). Well, apparently in one of the corners of the room that makes this cross between a whistle and a "tthhhh" sound (what the hell would you call that?) and Damian can reproduce it almost perfectly (according to him that is). Sound could possibly come form the heater, but it's one of those old heaters and it only is on half of the time, but the sound was all night long (or at least I think it was only night time). there was also a cold spot there.