Ghosts of Gettysburg III by Mark Nesbitt

Author:Mark Nesbitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal, civil war, supernatural, ghost stories, gettysburg, hauntings, haunted houses, haunted battlefields, ghost adventures, supernatural events
Publisher: Second Chance Publications

Phi Gamma Delta fraternity house, Gettysburg College

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Chapter 8: Sleep Eternal?

Dead, but sceptered sovereigns who still rule us from the dust.

— Monument to Confederate dead

Johnson’s Island Prison, Sandusky, Ohio

We revisit the Civil War-era house on Baltimore Street, with the modern section added to it, where a young soldier seems trapped, fated to remain stuck in the older section of the house while young men of his age—but not his time—enjoy the youthful life that he was so cruelly denied. As they party, he can only watch and mourn a childhood that was snatched away from him far too soon by war.1

He is often seen observing the revelers from the old section of the house as the party goes on. And they sometimes see him. Those who have seen him, wave and encourage him to join them, thinking he is merely a younger brother of one of the residents. But it is never to be. He is no more a younger brother than he is alive….

It was a Sunday night. No party was raging in the house. Instead, there was sleep. The doors were locked. It was in the middle of the night, moving on to morning.

But one student was still awake, engaged in what is known to college students as “pulling an all-nighter”—staying up all night studying for an exam the next day. He was in the basement, which had been fixed up as a study area for the students. Every light was extinguished, except for the small lamp by which he was studying.

All was quiet except for that marvelous cacophony of learning going on in the student’s head—though, he admitted, by this time in the morning, the roar of discovery had subsided a bit. While deep in thought, his attention was directed to a small noise above his head. Tilting an ear toward the ceiling, he heard what he thought was the upstairs door to the outside opening. He was immediately confused, because he knew everyone had gone to bed a few hours before, and he had heard no one get up and go out. As he listened to the sound, he realized that there indeed were footsteps, moving slowly, lightly from the kitchen to the front door. What impressed him the most about them is that the steps were not of anyone of adult size—no one of his housemates’ sizes—but instead were of a small person, or perhaps a youngster.

For a good eight to ten minutes he listened as the steps slowly made their way from the kitchen out to the front room and back. As he stood, he heard the steps pass across the floor, just inches above his head. He could practically feel them brush his head, and the hair on the back of his neck stood.

Slowly, he made his way to the stairs, hoping that the intruder would not be dangerous. Gaining courage, he was convinced by the lightness of the footfalls that the stranger was much smaller than he. By coincidence, as the student walked

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