Ghost Stories - Revision history

Jrudiak: /* By Rob Trappen */

2017-10-31T16:40:43Z

‎By Rob Trappen

Jrudiak: /* Rob Trappen */

2017-10-31T16:40:13Z

‎Rob Trappen

Jrudiak at 16:39, 31 October 2017

2017-10-31T16:39:09Z

Jrudiak at 16:38, 31 October 2017

2017-10-31T16:38:21Z

Jrudiak: /* Ron Trappen */

2016-11-02T01:59:05Z

‎Ron Trappen

Jrudiak at 01:57, 2 November 2016

2016-11-02T01:57:45Z

Show changes

Jrudiak at 16:48, 31 October 2016

2016-10-31T16:48:00Z

Jrudiak: /* Written by John Rudiak as told by Julia Tomasic */

2009-10-10T22:24:39Z

‎Written by John Rudiak as told by Julia Tomasic

Jrudiak: /* by Diana */

2009-07-29T14:08:43Z

‎by Diana

Jrudiak at 10:23, 26 July 2009

2009-07-26T10:23:45Z

@@ Line 221: / Line 221: @@
 == Halloween 1924 ==
-==By Rob Trappen ==
+==By Robb Trappen ==
 Fall had finally come to the area. After a long summer of hot days and little rain the cool weather was a welcome. The air had the smell of burning coal from the stoves, furnaces and fireplaces that were now being called on to take the chill off the homes and schools in the morning and late evening hours. School had started again and after a month of getting up early the kids were now entrenched in their routine and excited over the upcoming fall holidays of Halloween and Thanksgiving.

@@ Line 73: / Line 73: @@
 == Haints, Hauntings, and Hoodoos==
 by
-==Rob Trappen==
+==Robb Trappen ==
 == The Old House==

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:39, 31 October 2017
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−	~~[http://www.sopghreporter.com/link.asp?smenu=88&sdetail=7553&wpage=1 The South Pittsburgh Reporter Story]~~

	[[Image:Halloween photo.jpg]]		[[Image:Halloween photo.jpg]]

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:38, 31 October 2017
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	So now that I have unsuccessfully argued both sides of this mystery I’ll stop here to rethink both positions.		So now that I have unsuccessfully argued both sides of this mystery I’ll stop here to rethink both positions.
		+
		+	== Halloween 1924 ==
		+	==By Rob Trappen ==
		+
		+	Fall had finally come to the area. After a long summer of hot days and little rain the cool weather was a welcome. The air had the smell of burning coal from the stoves, furnaces and fireplaces that were now being called on to take the chill off the homes and schools in the morning and late evening hours. School had started again and after a month of getting up early the kids were now entrenched in their routine and excited over the upcoming fall holidays of Halloween and Thanksgiving.
		+
		+	The year was 1924 several years after the Great War and the flu epidemics, radio was in its infancy; a time where imagination was the only thing needed to have fun at the expense of the adult townsfolk.
		+
		+	Turn-of-the-century Halloween was a time of fortune-telling, harvest celebration, prank-playing (this was an imitation of mischievous ghosts); and the telling of scary stories. It wasn't until the 1930's that the tradition of trick-or-treat came fully into practice. Trick-or-treat is descended both from the Celtic tradition of honoring the wandering dead with offerings of food, and the practice of begging food in exchange for a costumed performance.
		+	The kids gathered together after school and on the weekends to plan their pranks. One generation would try to out do the previous one. There was always the standard mischief that could be played on the older members of the community; the upsetting of an outhouse that would trap the occupant inside, causing him or her to emerge through the seat hole. The outhouse could also be nailed shut and carried off to an embarrassing location such as the middle of town or an intersection. Some of the older boys undertook the formidable task of dismantling a wagon or carriage and reassembling it upon the roof of the owner’s barn. Gaining entrance to rural school buildings was not difficult and the furniture often got rearranged. Schoolteachers learned to expect about anything when they arrived after Halloween Eve. Opening the door to face a cow that had spent the night in the classroom could be a tad bit frightening and upsetting, especially the cleaning up that had to be done. Many of the tombstones were moved or overturned in the local cemetery. Pump handles were removed, windows soaped and hat-pins were broken off in door bell buttons causing them to ring repeatedly. Not everyone shared or enjoyed the spirit of this season, but it was still a time of bobbing for apples, tasting the fresh pressed cider, social gatherings and watching for the Witches that were rumored to fly on their brooms on Halloween Night.
		+	A group of children, ages 9-15, comprised the gang that was usually found near the Saw Mill Run Creek Bridge area most afternoons and this day was no exception. During the warm weather games of Tag and Hide and Seek would often erupt spontaneously, but this evening the planning for Halloween high jinks was first on the agenda. The plots were many and varied and this year there were new neighbors that would fall victim and new children to carry out the deeds. The town of Fairhaven was now an established suburb of Pittsburgh and growing rapidly. Old farms were being sold and their lots divided and new homes were being built. The fun that was had on previous Halloween was not possible now in this time of change; more eyes were on them; if the deeds were to be done they must be planned more carefully than in prior years.
		+	Several of the girls, unable to fathom putting wagons on roofs or cow in classrooms, broke away from the group and thought of things they might do on their own. The late afternoon sun was setting and the arrival of the man on his mule who lit the gas street lights was coming fast. Children must be at home and accounted for by the time the street lights were turned on. The planning of pranks suddenly changed to a game of dare-you. The oldest of the 3 girls dared the other two to soap windows at the church and parsonage. The youngest dared the oldest to run through the cemetery on her way home.
		+
		+	“I’ll take that dare” said Martha, aged 12
		+
		+	“OK, but how will we know that you really did?” asked Helen, with Sarah nodding in agreement.
		+
		+	“I’ll lay this stick in the cemetery so you can tell I was there” said Martha.
		+
		+	“There is no way I’m going in there even in the day time to find it” said Helen, “Stick it in the ground up by the top of the hill at Rogerson’s monument so we can see it from the road.” “…and tie this scarf around it too” added Sarah.
		+
		+	It was a perfect Halloween Eve. An early evening frost added to the eeriness of the night and a stiff breeze gusted in from the Northwest taking most of the leaves that were still clinging on the trees with it.
		+
		+	Around 8:00 there was a knock at the front door at Helen’s house. It was Martha’s parents. Martha was missing. Helen said nothing about the group’s planned activities and shortly her parents left with Martha’s folks and a full scale search was underway. Soon Helen’s fear of getting into trouble gave way to concerns for Martha and she put on her coat and took off down the road in search of the search party. She caught up with them as they passed the base of old Underwood Street.
		+	“I know where she might be or at least where she was supposed to go” said Helen.
		+
		+	The graveyard stunt was revealed, and after getting several kerosene lanterns from one of the homes part way up the hill the parents pressed on to the top of the hill and into the cemetery.
		+
		+	“Martha!” yelled her dad but the only sounds heard were those of the leaves rustling and the hooting of a startled Owl.
		+
		+	They walked further into the cemetery, the reflection of their lanterns casting a yellow glow a few feet ahead of them.
		+
		+	“M a r t h a!!!
		+
		+	“Help me, I can’t move”…this time a faint reply was heard.
		+
		+	“Where are you child?”
		+
		+	“Up here” whispered Martha.
		+
		+	They found here lying on the ground by the large monument stone at the Rogerson’s grave site. She was unable to move; frozen with fear.
		+	“What happened?” asked her parents; but Martha could not answer.
		+
		+	When they attempted to get her to her feet it became clear, even by the lantern’s faint glow what had happened to Martha. When she went to place the stick into the ground she discovered it too hard be easily pushed a proper distance so she picked up a small rock to use as a hammer. In her haste she drove the stick through her coat and into the ground. When Martha stood up to leave, her coat was staked to the ground. She thought a ghostly hand was grabbing her and holding her there. She screamed and fainted.
		+	Who knows how long Martha would have laid there convinced that some spirit had a hold on her? Possibly she would have been there until first light. It was, after all, Halloween and the souls of the departed were out to visit the places they knew in life and would not return until the dawn.
		+
		+	Afterward this was a story to be laughed over; told and retold again; a lesson to those who might cause mischief on Halloween.
		+
		+	A lesson...Maybe
		+	A good story...Possibly
		+	A true story…Absolutely!

@@ Line 74: / Line 74: @@
 == Haints, Hauntings, and Hoodoos==
 by
-==Ron Trappen==
+==Rob Trappen==
 == The Old House==

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:48, 31 October 2016
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	I turned out to be a good girl.		I turned out to be a good girl.
		+
		+
		+	== October 31, 2016==
		+
		+	== Title: The Thing That Growls==
		+
		+	== Time: 1989 ==
		+
		+	== By Jill Flosnik==
		+
		+	The smell of popcorn and funnel cake loomed thick like fog. Carnival music was everywhere and way too loud. It was crowded. Everybody in the world came out that night. I lost at Bingo again, and I was disappointed. Why did I not win like I fully expected? Finally, a friend’s face emerged from the sea of blue snow cone stained faces and I was never so glad. He was every bit as sick of the carnival as me. Some people say that you should never stay too long at the fair and they are right. They are so very right.
		+	“Let’s go sit down.”
		+	“OK.”
		+	We separated from the crowd and sat down on the church graveyard wall, our hands holding onto the wrought iron bars of the fence and feet dangling below. All sound from the carnival drowned out. For a while, it was peaceful. Still. Quiet. The sun was setting and making the Carrick graveyard into a shady and colorful design that would inspire an artist to paint. Nowadays, people would snap this picture with their cell phones, post it on the internet and save it in the cloud forever. Back then, we just had our memories. We talked and talked. It got dark.
		+	Then we heard it. It was a sickening, ungodly growl. It was our imaginations, for sure. He heard it, too. I could tell. I watched him, just like me, decide to dismiss the sound. We paused for a second, then kept talking. We weren’t ready to stop talking. We did not want our peaceful time on the St. Wendelin’s church graveyard wall to end.
		+	“There is no way that you can stay in Pittsburgh anymore.”
		+	“Yes.” I agreed. “There are no jobs.”
		+	And then we heard it again, this time louder to the point of shaking the earth. The sound was more animal than human, but unlike anything we ever heard before or since. We looked right at each other, and again. Another growl. We jumped up fast as our blood froze cold in terror. It felt like we were being hunted. We ran. And we ran. We ran faster than we ever did in the history of our lives. We ran out of the church parking lot, down Custer Avenue, down Edward drive to the Clover Streets in Baldwin where we grew up. And keep in mind, we were not the running sort. We weren’t athletic. We were the weird, creative kids. Never, have I ever, run just to run, nor has he.
		+	We never spoke of this again. This was not usual, and dare I say, completely out of character for the talking sort. Instead, we kept quiet. We were endlessly relieved to have escaped that growl, whatever it was, whoever it was. It felt like we escaped certain death.
		+	Over the years, I have tried to convince myself that this never happened, that it was imagination. If I looked up my childhood friend, he would say he does not remember. He would say that it was just a dream, but I doubt it.
		+	Another childhood friend, a dependable smart girl who grew up by the cemetery, used to see bony fingers outside her window until she asked her mother for black out curtains. Was this the thing that growls? Still another classmate, a sweet, athletic guy who makes you feel safe, used to be afraid to walk across the graveyard at night. Why? Had he seen or heard the thing that growls? In any case, I have never forgotten that night or that unearthly growl, and I never, ever will.

@@ Line 21: / Line 21: @@
 == Written by John Rudiak as told by Julia Tomasic ==
-Rosalind was one of my best customers of my home beauty salon in Carrick.  Her little girl Lilly, as she called her, was her constant companion, but she couldn’t be seen by us grownups.  We were too old to believe in earthbound spirits and that made us blind to little Lilly.
+Rosalind was one of my best friends who visited my home in Carrick.  Her little girl Lilly, as she called her, was her constant companion, but she couldn’t be seen by us grownups.  We were too old to believe in earthbound spirits and that made us blind to little Lilly.
-Rosalind’s presence in the salon would always bring unexplained events.  On one occasion, when my son was young, he walked into the salon room wearing nothing but his little shirt, and no diaper.  I suspected the diaper simply fell off – or as young children are apt to do, he removed it. Strangely, the wet soiled diaper was found on the third floor, folded and taped ready for the trash bin. Rosalind had already gone for the day and we were alone.
+Rosalind’s presence in the salon would always bring unexplained events.  On one occasion, when my son was young, he walked into the basement room wearing nothing but his little shirt, and no diaper.  I suspected the diaper simply fell off – or as young children are apt to do, he removed it. Strangely, the wet soiled diaper was found on the third floor, folded and taped ready for the trash bin. Rosalind had already gone for the day and we were alone.
 Finally, one day Rosalind told me her secret.  She said she had once visited a psychic who told her she had a little spirit friend, Lilly, who was a lost little girl and she was her constant companion.  Lilly was a playful spirit always looking for a new friend and was always happy to go outside with her everywhere. This begged the question: did Lilly change my son’s diaper?  Did he see her to allow her to do so?  My young son never understood that adults were unable to see spirits – in fact as a youngster he often had “conversations” with my uncle who died in 1994, 8 years before he was born and who he never knew.
@@ Line 36: / Line 36: @@
 Rosalind moved away a few years ago and I never found out if Lilly, her lost little girl, moved along with her.  I wonder if the new owners of her house are Lilly’s new parents or if she will always be her adopted mother, going everywhere with her, maybe meeting each other, finally, in heaven.
 == "Rags a Diana, Rags a Diana" ==

← Older revision		Revision as of 14:08, 29 July 2009
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−	== by Diana ==	+	== by Diana Cipollone ==

	When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived with us. My granddaddy, whom I loved dearly wanted to make sure I would stay a good girl. He would say to me that the ragman was coming down the street (with his horse and buggy) and he was yelling out, “Rags a Diana” “Rags a Diana”.		When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived with us. My granddaddy, whom I loved dearly wanted to make sure I would stay a good girl. He would say to me that the ragman was coming down the street (with his horse and buggy) and he was yelling out, “Rags a Diana” “Rags a Diana”.

@@ Line 15: / Line 15: @@
 John Rudiak
 == Lilly, the Little Lost Girl of Carrick ==
@@ Line 38: / Line 36: @@
 Rosalind moved away a few years ago and I never found out if Lilly, her lost little girl, moved along with her.  I wonder if the new owners of her house are Lilly’s new parents or if she will always be her adopted mother, going everywhere with her, maybe meeting each other, finally, in heaven.