Haunted Jerome by Patricia Jacobson

Author:Patricia Jacobson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arcadia Publishing Inc.
Published: 2019-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

What Jerome looked like in the 1970s. The doors, windows and plumbing were taken for salvage. “Got to Rot Realty.” Copyright Michael Thompson.

SALLY’S HOME

A very curious experience happened to Sally, another longtime resident and well-loved bassist and vocalist (and what a joy to hear her sing!):

One night when I was falling asleep, I heard a noise on the stairs. The stairs were just outside the bedroom. I closed my eyes when all of a sudden I felt something next to me. I opened my eyes, and there was a figure standing right there, really tall, maybe six-foot-two or so, looking down at me with his head tilted, right next to my bed. He had clothing on that was so bizarre. It appeared to be silk and shredded in little squares. It was so strange that I almost cannot explain it—almost like prayer flags but shredded on the ends. The material was grayish silver, and it covered his body. I couldn’t quite see his face except for the eyes. However, the whole thing was made of shredded little tiny squares from head to toe, and it was blowing as though there was wind in the room. I thought I was dreaming so I shut my eyes, and I opened them again, and he was still there, and I did it again, and he was still there. The spirit entity wasn’t doing anything except standing there, his head tilted, looking down at me.

I finally asked, “What do you want? What do you want?” I kept saying that, and he did nothing. Just these things blowing and fluttering and stuff on his shirt. Around the fourth or fifth time that I closed my eyes and opened them, he was gone. It was so crazy because, in the end, it was not negative. I wasn’t scared to death. I was scared, but in retrospect, as I remember it now, I feel like I saw a kind soul, like someone looking down on me, kindly, benevolent. Because my dad had run away from home and I hadn’t seen him in thirty-six years, I thought maybe he had died and came to visit me. Then I found my dad about a year later, so that wasn’t it.

I have thought of it since then, and I believe the spirit is in the house. I don’t seek it out or any of that. I feel almost like he is my protector in a way. I feel that way because it was so sweet in the end. There was no negative. It’s a short little story, but honestly, I love it, I feel like it was a small gift to me. When this thing happened to me, I got less scared. When he didn’t go away, I became less frightened. He was looking down with sweetness, and adoring, like “I am here to protect you.”

FIFTH STREET

Melissa has lived and worked in several areas of town. She told of another spirit experience she had when she and her roommate moved

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