Two years ago, I wrote the following as my Halloween entry. This story is true. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do:
Late last night I picked the girls up at the high school after the dance. When they got in the car, they were talking about ghosts. I couldn't make the correlation between homecoming, dancing, and ghosting, so I decided to sit back and listen. I never did make the connection, but sometimes, that is beside the point. As the girls were talking about hauntings and all things frightening, Alyssa started to tell them about our ghost. Then she said, "Mom, you tell the story, I was just a little girl and I really don't remember her."
After I told them the story, they were utterly and completely freaked out. I tried to explain to the girls that sometimes the unknown is not actually scary because it is dangerous, but rather because we are frightened of things we don't understand. I tried to impress upon them that sometimes, the unknown opens up new thoughts and ideas.
All day long, I've been thinking about my ghost. And so in honor of Halloween, I thought I'd share the story. This is something that I've been meaning to journal for a long time because, as last night reiterated, it is an integral part of my children's childhood memories. But before I get to the actual ghost, I have to give a little background:
When we were transferred from Tomah, Wisconsin to Neenah, Wisconsin, we spent several weekends looking for a house. At that time, there were not a lot of choices in Neenah, so the pickings were pretty slim. One weekend, Jeff decided that the only way we were going to find a house was to drive around the area until we found one we liked. As we were driving, we kept going past this house nestled way back in the trees. The For Sale By Owner sign was partially covered with overgrown brush. After driving by the house multiple times, Jeff turned to me and asked me to write down the number. He rattled it off and we kept on driving. That night as we sat down to dinner, he picked up the phone and called the number I had written down. Jeff then told the person on the other end of the phone that he was calling about the house for sale. The person responded with, "Our house isn't for sale." Jeff politely told the guy that he must have written the number down incorrectly. Well, the guy who answered Jeff's call was a chatty fellow, and he wanted to know what house it was we were interested in (Neenah is a small town where everyone knows everyone else). Jeff told him about the house in the trees and mentioned the name of the street. The guy said that the house we were inquiring about was located one street over. But he didn't end the conversation there; he proceeded to interview Jeff as to what exactly we were looking for in a house. He went so far as to ask our price range. Jeff and this guy were getting along splendidly and they exchanged telephone numbers before hanging up.
The next day, Jeff received a phone call from the wrong number guy, whose name was Mr. Shaning. Mr. Shaning told Jeff that he would sell his house to us. His house was not even for sale, but he was offering to sell it to us! So we made arrangements to look at the home that very day. It was almost perfect. It had nearly everything we were looking for, plus a whole lot that we had never dreamed of. Within a week, we had made arrangements to buy the house. The man's wife was a little taken back by all this and she was quite miffed that he was selling the house out from under her. Still, he pressed onward and the sale went through within a couple of months. During Jeff's trips back and forth from Tomah to Neenah, he got to know Mr. Shaning a little better as they processed the paperwork. Mr. Shaning told Jeff how the house had come to be built. This is what Jeff did NOT tell me before we moved into the home:
In 1983 there was a tornado in Neenah. As the tornado was approaching, Mrs. Shaning (the first Mrs. Shaning, not the current Mrs. Shaning) helped her elderly mother down to the basement. Then she ran back up the stairs to get the dog. The tornado hit just as she was entering the doorway to go back down to the basement. She was killed instantly as the tornado ripped through the house. The house was demolished in the tornado. All that remained was the foundation which housed the basement. For over a year, the foundation remained open and bare to the world. Mr. Shaning went about getting on with his life and couldn't deal with the thought of rebuilding the home where his wife had died. That same year, Mr. Shaning met a woman whom he later married (the second Mrs. Shaning). When they got married, the new Mrs. Shaning decided that she wanted to build a house, and what better location than to build right on top of the place where the first Mrs. Shaning died? So they built a new home on the original foundation. They lived there six years before we bought the house.
When we moved to Neenah, I was not aware of the history of the house. It came to me in bits and pieces as I got to know people in the community. Jeff never mentioned it that first year - not a word. One night, after we had lived there for about eight months, Jeff was away on business. I was home alone with my two small children. It was late and I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went into the family room to watch some television. I was in the dark and the house was quiet except for the low volume of the TV. All of a sudden, the upstairs hall light flickered on and off. I checked to see if it was storming outside. No... not storming, it was calm as could be. So I went upstairs to see if my little Miss Alyssa was toddling about. No... she was sound asleep. Then I decided that maybe I imagined it, so I went back downstairs to watch more television. No sooner had I settled in, than John's bedroom door opened up and softly closed. Back upstairs I went. Nothing. Finally, I decided that I must be exhausted, so I went to bed and told myself not to worry about it. That was the beginning of many such incidents.
We lived in the house for seven years. Over the course of that time, the upstairs hall light flicked on hundreds of occasions. Mostly, it flickered late at night when Jeff was out of town, but sometimes, it would do it when he was home. John's bedroom door opened and shut frequently too - always at night, and almost always when I was home alone. I never felt frightened though. Instead, I felt comforted, because in my mind, I had decided that it was the Ghost of Mrs. Shaning letting me know that she was there and that I was not alone with my babies.
So the question is, "Do I believe in ghosts?" I don't know if I do. I'm also not sure that I don't. The way we found that house, and the way the sale came about, makes me wonder if there is such a thing as divine intervention. During those years in Neenah, Jeff traveled a lot. I was frequently home alone on long winter nights with my babies. Most days, I was overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. Whenever the light would flicker and John's door would softly open and close, I would be engulfed with a feeling of well being. That's not to say that it didn't take me by surprise - it did. Every time it happened during those seven years, I experienced a little pang of surprise and wonder. Jeff tried to pass it off as the house settling, but I knew better. To me, it seemed to be the spirit of the home saying, "All is well, you are safe."
My children often talk about the Ghost of Mrs. Shaning. They vaguely remember the light flickering, but they can't remember the door opening and closing at all. I'm sure that the reason for this is that I always downplayed the incidents, for you see, I wanted to protect Mrs. Shaning. I liked the thought that she was there in the house with me. I liked believing that she was watching over us when Jeff was away. And, most of all, I thought that her spirit deserved to live in the house where she died. I never liked the fact that the second Mrs. Shaning built a home on top of the foundation where the first Mrs. Shaning died. I always thought that it was irreverent and rather cruel.
In the end, whether it was in my mind or an actual phenomena, I'll never know. What I do know is that I was never once frightened. All I felt was wonder and awe. I like to think that Mrs. Shaning and I were tending to each other, that we were a team looking after the home and watching over my children. Mrs. Shaning was my friendly ghost. She became a familiar part of my daily life and I loved her for that.
Because it is Halloween, that day that celebrates all things frightening, I offer this: take time to think about the possibilities of things beyond common understanding. Stand back and look beyond the facts. Because sometimes, the things you discover just might offer a bit of wonder and awe in return.
Recent Comments