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The Haunted Farmhouse

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The Haunted Farmhouse

 

by: Genna Rose iseektruth@hotmail.com

ghost_tales@egroups.com

 

My sister and her husband decided to chuck the big-city life for a small dairy farm in Wisconsin. (I'll call them "Mary" and "John"). The odd thing about their farm was the home was built in the 1960's but it was surrounded by outbuildings that were clearly much older, probably built around the turn of the century.

 

Several months after they moved in my other sister "Ellen" and I decided to visit them at their new home. We were given the standard tour, but when it came time to descend the wooden stairs into the basement I got a sudden chill up my spine and didn't even want to go down there. I literally felt a cold wind that swept past me. When I did finally get the nerve up to go down there at the bottom of the stairs etched in the concrete floor was the clear image of a "sad" face. Since Mary had 5 kids I asked if one of the kids had carved that face, and she said no, it was there when they bought the house. They just figured the person who poured the floor etched that face in there for fun.

 

Ellen and I were given one of the small kid's bedrooms to sleep in. About 2 or 3 AM I woke up to the sound of "Mary Had A Little Lamb" being played in slow cadence on a child's toy piano. At first I thought it was one of the kids having fun with me, but when I opened up the bedroom door to investigate, the sound stopped. I got back into bed and sure enough the noise started up again. It lasted until about 6 AM. I even woke up Ellen at one point to verify that I wasn't just hearing things, and sure enough she heard it too. When I went to the breakfast table that morning I told Mary and John about the incident, and they looked at each other rather strangely and started pumping me for more information. I found out later that they too had heard the same song, not on that particular night but on other occasions, and had no explanation for it.

 

I also found out that morning the other strange happenings at the house. Mary said that on the day they moved in she was lying down on the couch in the livingroom to rest awhile, and was awakened with a jolt when she heard loud thumping going down the basement stairs. Thinking it was one of the kids who had fallen she rushed to the basement door, flung it open - but there was no one there. Later on she found out that the former owner had been drinking heavily one night and had fallen down the basement stairs and died, right there at the bottom of the stairs. Could that have been the source of the sad face?

 

Mary also reported having heard the sound of a child's tricycle sqeaking around the front yard in the middle of the night. Their youngest child told me that she had a little imaginary playmate who came to visit her in her room at night. Needless to say, Ellen and I cut our vacation short and hightailed it home!

 

About a year later I decided to visit my sister again (I guess the goosebumps had worn off by then). Being out in the middle of nowhere there is no hotel in her area, so I had no choice but to stay again in one of the kid's rooms. About 6 months prior Mary and John had torn down the basement stairs and burned them, plus they covered the sad face with carpeting, so no more visits from Mr. Basement Ghost. I did not hear the piano, but I did hear children's voices coming from the front porch. I got up to see if the kids were playing tricks on me, but again, nothing - just an empty porch. I had vivid dreams about two little girls who had lived in an old Victorian house, and the message I got from these girls was that their house burned down in the 1960's so the new owner built the existing house over the same spot. The girls also told me their names - Adele and Adeline. Adele was about 12 and Adeline looked to be about 9 or 10. They were both dressed in identical black dresses and high-button black shoes. I told Mary and John about my dream and again I got that weird look. Turns out their youngest called her imaginary friend Adeline!

 

While I was out there they were tearing down one of the old outbuildings. My teenage nephew, who was assigned cleanup duty, emerged from the remains of this old building with an old box. All of the kids excitedly gathered around to investigate the contents, so one by one they pulled out an old whiskey bottle, some newspaper clippings from the 1930's, and two pairs of shoes - you guessed it, girl's high button shoes, black, and sized to fit girls about 10 or 12 years of age.

 

I keep begging my sister to look into the county records to see if an old Victorian house had once stood on the site of their farmhouse and if it had burned down in the 1960's, but she tells me that the less she knows the better. After all, I guess she does have to live there.

 



 

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