Christmas Ghost story.

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John Landon
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Christmas Ghost story.

Post by John Landon »

Christmas without a Ghost Story ? Let me remedy that...

I am no stranger to ghosts, I have seen a few and conversed with them, just as I would any other living person, though as a rule,
it was only after the event I would realise that, and also WHO I had really been talking too. The dead are quick, quicker than you or I.

Yes, I am a bit slow and dim witted when these experiences take place, scrub that.... I would go as far to say slow and dim witted... full stop... :lol:
and often I used to see the ghosts of people and animals before they die.

We have to go back in time to start the story.

50 years ago when I was a kid, we lived up in the Dales, Swaledale to be exact. I loved living there, up until I was about 9 and then we moved to Sheffield.
( I DO find it odd, that here in north Wales, its very similar to the Dales, and that Swale is an anagram of Wales )

Anyway, I always enjoyed receiving visits from my maternal Grandma and Granddad, although I only ever recall my Granddad visiting once at Christmas after we had moved into the new house my parents had built there..

They probably stayed for a few days that Christmas, as we had a guest room in that house.

They Lived in Halifax, number 17 Emscot Grove and I always remember the big yellow front door.
They were my Favourite Grandparent's, as my Paternal ones were not exactly "child friendly" God bless them.

Anyhow, come Christmas day, my Granddad gave me a very small red penknife, and I remember carving a small chunk out of the Xmas turkey while it was waiting in the Kitchen to be taken into the dining room, and my mum was a bit annoyed about that, and my poor Granddad probably got an earful off my Mum as well for his troubles, bless him.

In later years I bought myself a black Swiss Army knife, as part of my "explorers kit" and always had it on me, and one day I though I had lost it,
so promptly purchased another one during my lunch break in Liverpool City Centre.
This one was Red, as Black was not available, but it mattered not, it had the same implements on it and was a few quid cheaper than the Black one, so got a better deal on it.
It accompanied me everywhere I went, along with my Zippo lighter, which is useful, as you can put it down and use it as a light source in dark places.
As soon as I bought this red penknife, the black one that I though I had lost suddenly turned up in my car as I got out of the car after arriving home after work, and so I kept the red knife and gave my eldest son the black knife.

My Grandma visited us quite regularly during my Childhood, and she often joked about bringing the rain with her......
I doubt it was her fault, and we had many moves around the country and we either lived in Yorkshire or Wales, neither place's were exactly known for its Mediterranean type climate.

Now, I have enjoyed many trips abroad with Alison, Spain, Cyprus, Luxor, Hurgharda, Sharm' and Turkey.

During all those times, we never saw any rain, not once, except in Sharm' where we witnessed a spectacular lighting show and a very ( and I mean VERY ) brief shower, I don't think we even got wet ! . This was in Sharks Bay IIRC ?

A few years later we found ourselves in a resort in the mountains in South Turkey, loads to see and do, abandoned Greek villages, the Lycian walk, forests, mountains and the beautiful Aegean sea, which is as good as anything the Red sea has to offer in oceanic terms.
Now normally I go off on my little adventures and Alison will relax in the Hotel, but on this day I was to be the official bag carrier while she went off on her shopping trip in the local town down by the coast.
As you can imagine, I was not exactly happy about this, but one must grin and bear it and not let the experience of utter boredom show. I know women love to shop, and as we were new to the place there was no way my own conscience could allow her to go on her own.

The routine went something like this as we made our way up the main street.

Look at outside of shop, examine the table outside that displayed some of the offerings available inside the shop, go in, browse inside shop, buy or not buy something and repeat for every other shop we saw. The main street was a good mile or so long, so this was not going to be over quickly.
Also the bags I carried started to get heavier and heavier with each purchase made and rapidly multiply in number.

generally I would say, " you go in the shop my dear, I will stay out here in the Sun and have a ciggie".
( I love the Sun, but Alison is Scottish, and as such is not into the warming rays of the Sun as I am )

Just as we got to an unexpected small ruin of some ancient monument in that street, the heavens suddenly opened up, and I felt my prayer had been answered, or God was looking down and could empathise with my pain and in an unfathomable act of kindness had sent the rains to me, and as a result our shopping trip would have to be cut short. Sadly Women are more resilient than that, and so we sought refuge in a small cafe, and the owner must have been delighted as the sudden rush of wet customers came though the door.
we had a nice cup of tea, and bugger me, it stopped raining almost as I took the first sip of tea.

Once again, ( and less then half way up this street ) we resumed the routine, the Sun had all but dried up the rain, so it was back to business.

Alison disappeared into yet another shop.
I lit up what felt like my 100th Ciggie, my lungs were heavy, and my heart even heavier, but I persevered to keep my spirits up.
My Red penknife fell out of my pocket, and for some strange reason, I made the connection with the Red Penknife my granddad had given me all those years ago, something I had not even considered at all until that precise moment.

I glanced up the hill to see how much further we had to go, and the sight of an old lady with her back to me cught my eye,
The Sun was on her back, she was indeed very old and wearing a dress very low cut at the back, almost down to her bum, and it would not have looked out of place on an 18 year old Essex girl out on the pull on a Saturday night.
the dress was bright yellow, and the old lady was looking at a stall outside a shop, perusing the items on display.
by now, she was sideways on to me, about 20 feet away. Suddenly I realised that she looked familiar, same heigh, stature and hair, as my deceased Grandma !
but how could this be ? she had been 10 years in the grave and had died in 2004, 23rd October IIRc.
I must be mistaken I though to myself, "Nahhh, loads of old ladies probably look like tha"....
During that brief thought, She had turned slightly, and now I could see her facial profile and she even had the special custom Sunglasses my Grandma had to wear in later years when she ventured outside.
Then to top it all, she took out a handkerchief from a handbag I had not noticed and wiped the corner of her mouth,
which was something else my Grandma had to do since she had multiple strokes in her last few years.

There was no mistaking it, this was beyond any shadow of a doubt my Grandma Rowley. !

I thought to myself, "shall I go and say Hello", but this voice in my head said, "Dont do it,,,, she wont know who you are".
In that instant, and presumably to make sure I didn't go against my inner voice, Alison turned up, and demanded my attention with her latest purchase.

I wanted to point the old lady out to Alison, as Alison knew her well. Maybe I was even looking for further verification, though in all truth, it really was not required.

Alison said that she had been told of a shop she must visit a few yards up the road and wanted to go there now.

We walked past the lady in the Yellow dress, maybe less than 10 feet away from her,
I wondered IF Alison would notice her, but she had her back to us as we walked past as she was still perusing the goods on the stall.

A few moments later, I looked back, and the lady had gone. The only place she could have gone ( assuming that she did not simply vanish into this air ) was up a street to the left.


2 years later, we were walking up the same street.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I wandered up the street to the left to see if there was anything of interest or even some clue as to where the lady in yellow had gone, was she trying to lead me to something perhaps ?

The Vista I was presented with was a large green Pyramid shaped mountain, a really good pyramidal shaped mountain. the very small side street had a bar on the corner named the Shadows bar, and not much else.

I turned around to get back to the main street, and now having turned 180 degrees, the scenery I was presented with was exactly the same as the scenery to the East of us in the Dales,
Its most dominant feature, that of Fremmington edge, the only difference in the long high mountain known locally in the Dales as High Scar was covered in trees and not barren grazing land for the sheep.....

Strange but true.....

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Re: Christmas Ghost story.

Post by Dusak »

:tk This is not your new persona is it former BM? If not, them my apologia's to Mr. Landon.
Life is your's to do with as you wish- do not let other's try to control it for you. Count Dusak- 1345.

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Re: Christmas Ghost story.

Post by John Landon »

Its an old one I meant to air a while ago and completely forgot about it until last night... :ct

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Re: Christmas Ghost story.

Post by Who2 »

An interesting & illumined statement! "The dead are quick, quicker than you or I...... 8)
"The Salvation of Mankind lies in making everything the responsibility of All"

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Re: Christmas Ghost story.

Post by John Landon »

Clever stuff Who2. In and out like a flash of lightning...
Took me years to realise what I was really dealing with down here. One does eventually learn by ones mistakes, and one does not feel so bad about ones mistakes, because they were not mistakes, they were learning tools. My "religion" is more forgiving and loving than most other peoples religion..... :wi

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