My house is definitely haunted. Actually, I don’t know if it’s a haunting, or if my son managed to bring in a poltergeist. They say emotionally disturbed children attract them, so that could be it too.
Anyway, my house was built in 1889. It’s inevitable that someone would have died here. There are two that we know of for sure. One was a child, and he died of an illness, it was listed as natural causes in 1944. The other was an older gentleman, he died of undetermined causes in 1979. Both in the house. The boy died in my bedroom, the older man died in the area that was once the enclosed front porch and is now my daughter’s room.
The little boy is mean, not evil, but mean. I have pictures of him, in silhouette, standing in my bedroom. I will dig them out and scan them if I can find them. The only thing he’s ever done that was potentially harmful was push a dresser down the stairs. The dresser was sitting at least a foot back from the top of the stairs, on solid ground, was not leaning at all. All of a sudden, when my roommate was about 3/4 of the way down the stairway, it comes flying down the stairs. He threw himself out of the way, and the dresser hit the bottom of the stairs so hard that it literally exploded. Creepy shit.
The old man doesn’t do much, just hangs around in our entryway. He covers my daughter up when she’s cold and she claims to have talked to him, but I have never actually seen him myself. When we moved in, there was a satchel full of dried red peppers hanging in the entryway. I took it down and threw it away, it was put back up. This went on for literally months before I asked him to please stop putting them back up, because they had a potpourri smell to them and it was making my roommate really sick. He let me throw them away for good after that. Not that creepy.
There’s a female here too, but I know nothing about her, and no death of a female was disclosed to us when we bought the house. The guys hear her more than I do. My husband has heard her come on to him when he was the only one in our bedroom, multiple times. I’ve only heard her once. Clear as day, in a room that should have only had my husband and I in it, a female said, “Who is this bitch? I thought you wanted to be my daddy.” That freaked me right the fuck out. I blessed the house, with holy water, even though I am not religious. (In fact, I’m leaning towards a belief in no god, but I was fucking scared.) No one slept that night. We heard a woman crying, pounding on the side door, which we use as the front door, begging us to let her in. That door has a peephole, and it was winter, so we could have either seen anyone that was really out there, or seen tracks leading to the porch by looking out our window. There was neither. By dawn the screaming had faded out to crying and by 8 a.m. it was completely gone. My husband and roommate think that whatever it was is gone. I think it was a ruse and she is still here. Just a gut feeling.
I used to work night shifts as a CNA at an assisted living center. There were 2 other CNAs that would work with me. One to help in the main area, and one for the Alzheimer area.
So one night we kept hearing noises like someone was walking on the roof, and one of the CNAs thought she had seen someone outside, so we were on edge already. Then the weird crap started to happen. We start hearing someone running in the 2nd floor hallway, by now we’ve triple checked all the doors to make sure they were locked, and we had done rounds a few times to make sure no one had come in.
Anyway, we were doing rounds again and we had split up to make it go faster. I was on the 2nd floor and I saw the other CNAs at the other end getting into the elevator so I thought I’d catch up to them. On my way over to the elevator I noticed that on the pool table, all the balls as well as the sticks had been arranged in an arrow shape which I thought was odd.
So I got back downstairs and head to the kitchen to grab a little snack. I went to the front desk and ask the others what they were doing upstairs, they said that they had been downstairs the whole time. At this point I’ve had about enough so I go to the kitchen to grab a knife just in case I needed a weapon. Now in about the half minute since I had left the kitchen, someone, or something had spread all the cloth napkins all over the floor.
The other CNAs were scared to the point of tears, and I wasn’t doing so well myself, so we called the cops. Anyway, the cops get there and are on edge themselves, but we do a few more rounds and they’re more than happy to take off. After that everything was pretty quiet.
I’m sure it’s just coincidence, but I found out the next day that a guy that worked in the kitchen had committed suicide. He also had an arrow tattoo.
I had an Aunt that passed away after being diagnosed with cancer (can’t remember which kind). She fought it for several years, but once she knew she was terminal, one thing she told my mom was that she would contact her from the other side, and let her know she was ok.
My mom joked and said something about not wanting freaking ghosts to be haunting her and to go bug one of her other brothers instead.
After she passed, my mom would have sporadic dreams about my Aunt, and the next day she would always call my cousin (aunt’s daughter) who lives several states away and they would talk about the dream.
A couple years went by and my mom had another dream, but when she woke up something was different. She had to call my cousin right away. It was early, but my cousin was awake and my mom told her about seeing my aunt, and she was very happy. In all the other dreams she had been happy, but this time even more so. She kept pointing at her wrist, and smiling, and touching her wrist some more. My mom didn’t know what the deal was, but she knew it had to be something good, as happy as my aunt was.
My cousin started crying, almost uncontrollably.
The day before, my cousin had been going through some boxes of her mom’s old stuff. Even though it had been a couple years, it was still too much to deal with all at once. One thing she did find, though, was a watch that used to belong to my aunt. The battery was dead, and my cousin thought it would be nice to replace the battery and then wear the watch.
My mom hasn’t had a dream about my aunt since.
When I was really young, around 1.5-3 years old, I was always sick, and quiet. (Some things don’t change lol). My parents moved us from Alaska to Oregon so they could be closer to family to help raise me. We moved around a few times, renting crappy old houses. There was one house we lived in in particular that was old, creaky, the works. Even had an insane land lord. Literally insane, she went to the hospital for psychotic /schizophrenic episodes, and her husband was trying to keep himself together while taking care of her, and trying to manage renting out houses. What I’m saying is that it was not a happy place. My parents could feel it, my grandparents could feel it, and I could too. I told my parents there were skeletons in my closet watching me. When my grandma was alone with me, I told her “man with gun”. And that’s all I said. We were close to the city, so it would not have been anything normal to see a man with a gun around the house…. Me saying small things like that persisted the entire time in that house. I never said anything about monsters, or skeletons, or ghosts, before and after that house. The weirdest part was about a month before we moved out. Someone(s) broke into our house, but didn’t steal or touch anything. There was human feces and urine smeared in weird patterns around the house and walls. We gtfo’d to a different house. I have a couple stories about the next house, one was the most terrifying thing that has happened to me, and the other was a mix of scary/happy.
Most terrifying moment: I was 6 or 7 when it happened, and it scared the piss out of me, so I can remember it very well. I was just starting to wake up out of a night’s rest, gaining my senses slowly. I was laying on my bed facing towards the door. I saw the door open, and a large man walk in, who I assumed to be my dad. I remember a pressure on my legs that felt like hands, and they were shaking me lightly, as if trying to wake me up, but I decided to be a shit-head that morning and pretended like I was still completely asleep. After a moment the shaking stopped. Then I felt a small breeze under my blanket, as if someone was lifting up the blankets by my feet. Right as I felt the chill, two large hands grabbed both of my legs HARD. They started pulling me off the end of the bed, as if trying to drag me underneath. This whole time I thought it was my Dad messing with me, or just trying to wake me up, but the moment I felt those hands on me, trying to pull me off the bed, I was terrified. I had never been scared of my Dad, what was going on? Why did these hands feel so angry? I was clawing at my bed to get a grip on something to pull myself away from the hands. At some point they just let go after resisting for 30-60 seconds. I ran out the door of my room as soon as I was free. I ran to the kitchen and saw both of my parents standing there making breakfast. I was crying, and confused, end even though my dad was standing in the kitchen, I asked him in between sobs something along the lines of “Dad, why did you do that? You scared me. And that hurt.” He just looked at me flabbergasted and said, “I haven’t been in your room to wake you up yet. Are you ok?” I think that was the most confused and scared I’ve ever been in my life.
Many years ago, as a 14 year old, staying overnight at a friends house, with 3 other friends, similar ages. We’d all grown up together, except one, who was a cousin of the kid who lived there, and we’d never met him before. His older sister, 16 at the time, was the babysitter while the parents were out for the evening.
She decides to unearth a ouija board from a cupboard somewhere, and thinks it’ll be a laugh to scare us shitless. This was back in the days, when you could buy ouija boards as a ‘board game’ from your local toy store.
So we all gather round, and she starts off with a kind of yes/no lie detector, directing questions to the each of us in turn. Cue nervous giggles, but also a feeling of unease, as we all began to feel like this was awesomely amazing, like some kind of secret that we’d all been unaware of before.
Shit gets strange, when the sister asks out loud, that ‘if anybody is here, please show yourself’. A pause of a few seconds, and then a framed picture falls off the wall, and onto the floor. Naturally, we all freak the fuck out. She calms us all down, and insists we go back to the board, because we have to help whoever knocked the picture down.
Ashen faced, and hearts pounding, we start asking questions (And I should also add, the pointer is moving smoothly and rapidly, in a completely different manner than before.)
Are you in the room? pointer says yes. Are you a man? pointer says no. Do you need help? pointer says no Whats’ your name? pointer spells out S-A-R-A-H Tell us a secret, we ask… pointer spells out FLIPACOIN
So we did. Someone leaves the table and gets a 10p piece from out of the loose change jar in the kitchen. This was in the days when 10p coins were big and chunky. The coin goes spinning high up into the air…
…as we watch it coming down, it stops spinning and serenely falls edge down to land on the table. When I say land, it didn’t bounce, it didn’t rock, it just came down and met the table, perfectly balanced on it’s edge, as if someone had reached out, and gently placed it there
Breaking the silence, the pointer starts moving again. Seemingly random letters, we soon realise they’re initials, including middle names. Family tradition for my friend and his sister was to have 3 middle names, something not all of us knew. Aside from the brother and the cousin, no-one else would have known the older sister’s full name, and we’d met the cousin for the first time that night. Somehow, every person present, had their initials correctly spelled out to them.
Pointer pauses, and then spells out 3 last words. CHILDREN. STOP. NOW.
Took me many many weeks to be able to sleep properly. No-one told their parents, and over the years it became our collective shared secret. Couldnt rationalise it then, still cant rationalise it today.
this beautiful lady is named elisa lam and today i am going to share with you the sad and confusing tale of elisa lam
firstly my full respects to her family and i would hope that all remember her as the beautiful young woman she was.
the only background i could find about elisa is that she was a Canadian student and was on a trip on her own to california.
seen in this picture she is in the middle smiling happy and celebrating a proud achievement, how awful it is then that such a vibrant and valuable young woman should suffer such an awful death and then to have that death surrounded in mystery.
According to Lam’s blog, her suffering due to bipolar disorder was severe, but she was coping well on her medication, which included Wellbutrin and Lamictil. She mentioned a relapse, but not in detail. She spoke bravely of the trauma about having been raped at one time, and surviving it. She accepted and spoke about her condition matter-of-factly and often with a firm dose of gallows humour. She did not attempt to make the reality of it more palatable for anyone; the tone of the blog, by and large, is searingly honest.(1)
During her travels before her death, she said she was happy. She told someone in San Diego that she loved him. She told family and friends she was going to visit an organic farm; she met up with Internet friends; she kept in touch with her parents until the day she disappeared. She loved art. Her blog slogan was the Chuck Palahniuk quote, “You’re always haunted by the idea you’re wasting your life.”
From what she wrote, she appeared intelligent, analytical, imaginative, with a sense of humour that was by turns acerbic, warm and self-deprecating, depending on the day. The Internet seemed, genuinely, to be a way for her to reach out and connect with people. Her desire to make friends online appeared genuine. From her posts appreciating poetry, grammar, writing and wordplay, she seemed to love language. A little while before she disappeared, she lost her cellphone. Whether this had anything to do with her death is uncertain.(2) but any detail no matter how small should not be overlooked, all in all she was happy living a life she clearly liked and there seemed no reason for it to end.
then one day her body is found on the roof of the Cecil Hotel in one of the water tanks.
this alone is enough of a mystery but more came to light; there is a video of her in the hotel taken by the security camera in the lift and i will leave you to draw your own conclusions from her behaviour.
some have said she is behaving erratically, some have said paranormal activity appears to be taking place, for myself i just find it confusing and disturbing,and difficult to watch, to me she seems clearly distressed by someone or something, to me it appears that the lift is behaving oddly rather than elisa, but what causes this i have no idea. i see her behaviour as responding to the situation which is happening to her, the problem is that the situation/whats is happening we cannot see and what we do see makes little sense.
Police say the death of a 21-year-old Canadian woman whose body was found in a water tank on top of a downtown Los Angeles hotel on Tuesday may have been accidental.
Police have identified the victim as Elisa Lam, a student at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver who was visiting California on her own before last seen at the Cecil Hotel, just outside Skid Row, on January 31.
Los Angeles Police detectives have characterized her disappearance as suspicious, notably how she got on the rooftop, but have refrained from calling it a homicide.(3)
On 31 January 2013, Canadian student Elisa Lam was last seen alive by an employee of the Hotel Cecil in Los Angeles. Lam disappeared on that day, and she remained missing for several weeks after she failed to check out of the property as scheduled in February 2013.
On 6 February 2013, the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) released information about the disappearance of Elisa Lam in the hopes of finding her alive, and on the following day held a press conference on the case that was covered in local and national news.
On 14 February 2013, surveillance video from the Hotel Cecil in Los Angeles was released by police; in those lengthy clips, Lam is seen lingering in an elevator and behaving in an unusual fashion. Many viewers of the unsettling clips inferred Lam was interacting with an unknown person or persons off camera, while others suspected the young woman was experiencing an episode of acute mental illness or was under the influence of drugs. (it was later reported the autopsy showed no sign of drugs)
Five days after the release of the videos, the hotel began to investigate guest complaints of low water pressure and an odd taste in the water supply, and maintenance workers located a body, later identified as that of Elisa Lam, in one of four large water tanks on the roof of the Hotel Cecil. The next day, public health officials issued a “do not drink” advisory to hotel guests pending testing of the water to determine whether it was safe to use.In June 2013, Lt. Fred Corral of the Los Angeles County coroner’s office investigations division confirmed Elisa Lam’s cause of death was accidental, with bipolar disorder as a significant condition. The location of Lam’s body (inside a hard-to-access water tank) and her odd behavior were among mysteries not resolved when the forensic investigation was completed:
Those test results were initially expected to take six to eight weeks to complete, but coroner’s spokesman Ed Winter said in response to queries that the office was still awaiting complete testing results.
Corral said no other information on the cause of death or condition of the woman’s body was being released.
Authorities including police and the coroner have not stated how they believe Lam got into the tank. Law enforcement officials had been careful to say that the death could be accidental, despite widespread public suspicions of foul play.
In the time since Elisa Lam’s mysterious death, the enduring questions she left behind have been the source of speculation. Adding to the uneasiness many have about Lam’s demise is the checkered history of the Hotel Cecil, where a woman leaped to her death from the roof in the 1960s and serial killer Richard Ramirez (the “Night Stalker”) lived for a time in the mid-1980s.
One of the aspects of the Elisa Lam’s disappearance and death that has fed continuing interest in the case is its trajectory and unresolved aspects. Given that Lam was initially one of a number of missing students at the time, her disappearance didn’t draw much attention until the release of surveillance video by the LAPD in February 2013. Even then, it wasn’t until the unusual circumstances of her death by drowning were revealed that media interest in Lam’s case surged. Contrary to later re-tellings, Lam’s death made headlines both locally and internationally.Another matter of interest to the public is even police were stumped as to how Lam came to be in a water tank that is difficult to access. Initially, the possibility of foul play was investigated but was ruled out:
LAPD spokesperson Officer Sara Faden said the circumstances of Lam’s death are highly unusual and investigators are now trying to determine whether Lam was murdered or if “a very, very strange accident” occurred.(4)
so all we are left with is questions what happened in the lift?
how did she gain access t the roof which was locked and only staff had the key?
how did she gain access to the water tank which was locked and also needed a ladder to even get to the top of the tank and end up in there naked and manage to lock the tank lid behind her ?
unfortunately this is all we have there is no more evidence, no more clues, and while it makes for a great film, and a great mystery, and possibly even a great paranormal case? in the end though a beautiful young woman who had a life she was enjoying has met with tragedy and her family are left grieving with no answers, so i just hope that her family finds some solace and some resolution, and for elisa herself i just hope she is now at peace.
the toynbee tiles
I first learned about the Toynbee tiles about a year ago and i have been fascinated ever since. There is a film apparently about them but i have tried to find it and it has been as mysterious as the tiles i can find reviews i can find people who say they have watched it but i cannot find the film itself. (update; have seen the film and can honestly say i am none the wsier really it certainly didnt give me any answers or any answers i could believe)
let’s start at the beginning which seems to be around 1980’s or at least that’s when people first claimed to have seen them the first mention i found of them was here so i shall let them tell you the story;
In 1992, a chap in Philadelphia by the name of Bill O’Neill starting noticing strange tiles randomly embedded in local roads. They were generally about the size of a license plate, and each had some variation of the same strange message: “TOYNBEE IDEA IN KUbricK’s 2001 RESURRECT DEAD ON PLANET JUPiTER.” They varied a bit in color and arrangement, but they were all made of an unidentifiable hard substance, and many had footnotes as strange as the message itself, such as “Murder every journalist, I beg you,” and “Submit. Obey.” Some were accompanied by lengthy, paranoid diatribes about the newsmedia, jews, and the mafia.
So Bill started asking around about these tiles, but nobody knew anything about their origin or meaning. So, he created a website devoted to the mysterious tiles, and in doing so learned that it is not just a local phenomenon. Similar tiles have appeared in many US cities, including Washington DC, Pittsburgh, New York City, Baltimore, Boston, and many more. Some have even shown up in South America; in Brazil, Argentina, and Chile. To date, about 130 tiles have been discovered. Somehow, someone is managing to embed these tiles into public roads– some of which are busy 24/7– without being spotted.
The tiles all mention “Toynbee,” most likely Arnold J. Toynbee, a religious historian born in England in 1889. Some of the tiles mention Kubrick, the filmmaker responsible for 2001: A Space Odyssey, which was a movie that made implications that a man was reborn on a mission to Jupiter, not exactly resurrected. There is only one known intersection between the works of Toynbee and Kubrick, and it’s pretty circumstantial: Toynbee’s writings spoke of a man named Zoroaster who conceived the idea of monotheism, and this name also occurs in the title of the famous 2001: A Space Odyssey theme song; it’s entitled “Thus Spoke Zoroaster.”
Due to strong similarity in craftsmanship and writing style, these tiles are most likely the work of a single individual (in the interest of conserving slashes and pronouns, we’ll assume this individual is a male). Either this man is disturbed, or he has a bizarre sense of humor. He is certainly creative, as the messages’ delivery system indicates, and he must be a patient and methodical man to have invested the time in making these 130 or so tiles by hand. And given the diverse locales where the tiles can be found, he has the means and money to travel. Some people also suppose that he is European, given that Kubrick and Toynbee are both English, and because one of the paranoid-ranting plaques indicates that he is/was hiding in Dover, England.
One Toynbee Tile enthusiast has claimed that a freshly laid tile was once found and examined:
The highlight of my search for answers to this mystery occurred one Sunday night of this previous winter. I had gone to my local convenience store for a snack around 4:00 A.M., noticing nothing unusual. On my way home I noticed something unusual in the street. Upon closer inspection, I discovered it to be a “Toynbee Idea” tile – freshly placed and only minutes old. Of course I was beside myself with excitement and I could now see exactly how, and of what materials these tiles are made. (This tile, by the way, is located on 13th. & Arch St. in Philadelphia.) The tiles are just that – tiles….although not the standard vinyl floor tile, as I had suspected. The letters are cut out of a material with, I assume, a higher rubber content than a standard floor tile. The inlay letters seemed to made from a less malleable substance, and in this case were red and yellow. The tile is secured to the street by intricately folded and layered tar paper, glued together. A layer of raw tar seemed to lie beneath the whole tile, anchoring it. The weight of cars, as they run over the tile, forces the layers of tar paper to impregnate the spaces in the cracks of the letters.
The most tantalizing clue as to the source of these tiles was a 1983 newspaper interview with a social worker from Philadelphia, a man named James Morasco, who claimed that Jupiter could be colonized by bringing Earth’s dead people there to have them resurrected. When writing an article on the tiles in 2001, one reporter stumbled upon the original 1983 article, found the link intriguing, and tried to call the only James Morasco listed in Philly. A woman who answered said Mr. Morasco couldn’t come to the phone because a mysterious ailment had required that he have his voicebox removed. Another reporter writing another story in 2003 tried to call the same man, only to be told that he had died the previous March at age 88, but that he had known nothing about the tiles:
“My husband doesn’t know anything about that,” she said. “Besides he died in March. But he didn’t know anything about it.”
Thou dost protest too much? Given the strong ties and strange circumstances, some believe that Mr. Morasco was the responsible party… but there are some problems with the Morasco theory: A) He would have been in his 70s when most of the tiles were placed, and B) some new ones have been installed since his death in 2003.
Another ambiguous Toynbee-2001 link appears in a 1985 play by Pulitzer-prize winning playwright David Mamet. In his “Goldberg Street” collection, he wrote an exchange between a radio talk show host and a caller obsessing over Arnold Toynbee, the movie 2001 and dead people. This play was written seven years before the first Toynbee tile was discovered, but two years after the Morasco article.
Despite finding a few links and some background information, the purpose and message of these tiles remains inexplicable. Did 70-year-old James Morasco install the tiles, then pass the legacy on to another to continue after his death? Was it some disturbed individual who latched onto the theory described in the 1983 article, and acted on his/her own? Or could it be someone who made the bizarre Kubrick-Toynbee link independently? Particularly fitting is the last line of the original 1983 article on James Morasco:
“You may be hearing more from Morasco. And then again, you may not.”
so there you have it one of my fave mysteries and its the sort of mystery that i actually think i don’t want it solving it is much more fun being a mystery, however if it is only one man doing all this then the sad thing it may well have reached it’s end as the man must surely be of an age now where he is either not able or not interested in risking life and limb to place these odd tiles in roads and surely all the travelling involved must take its toll both physically and or course financially.
if any of you happen to live near such a tile especially one of the older ones i would dearly love it if you could take a picture and share it with us,
i didn’t add my usual extra picture yesterday out of respect for the lady it centered on, today though this is a more lighter mystery and so i will finish now with a picture and love to all
be kind to each other and anyone you meet
and be kind to yourself
ref; http://www.damninteresting.com/the-mysterious-toynbee-tiles/credit allan bellows