A Haunting In Montana:
Montana prides itself on its culture. There are ghost stories told around the dinner table. Rich with Native American traditions and culture. Montana is one of those states the have the most diverse Native American population. This being said Montana is full of a long Native American history and haunting stories. Many homes are built on ancient Native American burial grounds.
As a child I never shied away from a ghost movie. Today I can still cuddle up under a blanket with popcorn and watch scary movies alone. Maybe because it is not real and the real monsters are the actual human kind. Or so I think!!!!!
All stories are true and I am not getting paid for this!
Growing up I was always with my grandparents. I love my grandparents house, but there was something eerie there that I could never put my finger on. LITERALLY!!! As a child there were always ghost stories told about my grandparents house by my aunts, uncles, and even my mom. I loved hearing them. I had my share of hair-raising events that occurred there myself. It was a natural thing that just happened. Until I got a little older.
I was about 11 years old maybe a little older when my grandparents and I were watching the evening news. During that time a news cast came on about a young man who was hit by a semi truck while riding his bike. My heart sank as I heard the news, and something else. A spine-tingling feeling, a feeling I knew who it was. I can’t explain how I just knew.
I told my grandmother I knew who had just got killed by the semi truck. She insisted that I was lying. As I tried to explain to her that I was not lying and that she just needs to believe me. She made me go to my room. About 10 minutes went by, and the phone rang. I could hear my grandmother on the phone, and she sounded devastated. I crept out the room so I could hear. My grandmother turned to me with tears in her eyes and said Matt is dead.
Now….look I know what you are thinking. I was shocked. But I was RIGHT!!! but how? I wasn’t a psychic. Far from one. I didn’t see dead people. I just had a gut feeling and I just said the words out loud.
The Meet and Greet:
After the passing of my aunt’s dear friend Matt. We came home from the funeral and reception. I was pooped. I took my bath and climbed into bed that night. Later around 2 am I woke up. I’m not one to have fear during the night. But this time was different.
So I peeked outside my bedroom door and there it was a shadow. I dark figure of a man who was walking closer to me as I just sat there frozen in time. He came close to me and sat on the edge of my bed. I could make him out now. How can this be…MATT!!! At this point, I didn’t talk. My mouth was agape with pure fear. He looked at me and said these words, “Don’t be afraid, everything will be okay.” Then like that poof, he was gone.
I let out a scream. My grandparents ran to my room. I was wet with sweat and tears. My grandfather wasn’t so charmed by me interrupting his sleep, but nonetheless, he was worried. I told them what happened. That night I slept with them. I was so scared.
A year went by and I forgot my little encounter. Or could I say psychosis? White padded room was in my near future if I didn’t get it together. This time I wasn’t alone. My great-grandfather died when I was 12. That evening after his passing, my cousin and I went out to pull a wagon carrying my other little cousin. We made it to the corner STOP sign when I decided to turn around and look.
There he was. In his long blue suspenders and white shirt. My great-grandfather by the basement door. He was staring at us. I turned to tell my cousin and she also could see him. With fear, we both ran leaving my younger cousin behind. We ran till we made it to the door. There he was crystal clear as if he was there the whole time. Flesh and blood. I grabbed my grandfather and told him, “look, its grandpa.” My grandfather gave me a look as though I was lucky there were so many people around.
My poor cousin out of breath told him I wasn’t lying that she could see him too. That he is standing right here with us. My grandmother told me to grab some water, sit and relax. I am sure at this point I had a one-way ticket to see the mental doctor.
All Grown Up:
As an adult and I take that visit to Montana every other year. I love to see my family, but dread staying in the basement. Look it could all be in my head. Maybe the dampness of the air or the magnetic field around the house. Look I have seen Ghost Hunters. I know it could be nothing and can be explained by science. But….how is it that my husband gets the heeby-jeebies. He is not one to fear anything. He damn sure hates that basement. I’m sure my sanity is still intact.
I am not suggesting that my grandparent’s house is haunted. I’m suggesting I am completely normal and the strange bump in the night is all in my head. But how can you explain things flying off shelves? The strange walking sounds when no one is home. How can you explain that as a child my grandparents had a priest come in to bless the house? Not once, but three times. How is it that with different stories that were told to me they are so similar. Explain how toys with no batteries go off. The red eyes that seem to always be in the basement hallway. All these occurrences can not caulk up to normal.
I am about to venture to Montana once again. This time ready. We won’t be sleeping in the basement even if that means getting a hotel room. However, I will not subject myself to pure fear of what I might see or hear. I will not subject any more of what is left of my sanity and a good night sleep in that basement. Especially knowing that renovations just ended at the house and like many ghost hunters will tell you. Any change in a home can bring out the undead. I for one will not witness such things this trip.
Like my adventures read some of the non-ghostly fun.
Do you have any ghost stories please share below.