A Poltergeist Experience

From: 
Story type: Ghost
Location: New York City
Source: Form Submission
Date submitted: Sun Nov 18 01:24:49 2007

I am full of experiences of the spiritual kind. I call them all spiritual, since to me even a six sense is a spiritual gift and a seventh and so on. Speaking about the dead, (who to me are not dead, rather, more alive than we are) some of them feel annoyed that we express ourselves that way about them. As for the word ghost is concerned, after I die I would dread been called a ghost. I will prefer been referred to as a discarnate spirit.

My present condominium has them, as everywhere abounds with them. But as some say, if they don’t mess with you, then they are friendly, and friendly spirits are welcomed in my house all they want! However, few experiences stand out like the one I’m about to express in the following paragraphs.

I am now a senior citizen, but back in 1961, I was about 16 in New York City when my folks moved into a trolley type apartment, if you ever heard that expression about an apartment. It's called that because of its long structure rather than being a square type like the modern structures.

I call my experience a ‘poltergeist experience’ because of the violence and energy of the spirit.

For three years, I endured this experience but kept it a secret so that my family wouldn’t find out. I didn’t want them panicked or afraid whenever I was in school or at church. Back then, I was a fervent churchgoer. I even translated for a preacher. So I went to church just about every night.

I say this because it will be relative during my account of this spirit I call “poltergeist.”

The main entrance to this apartment — in the 4th floor — was just about parallel or in front of the door to my bedroom. The rest of the house disappeared after the hallway bathroom door, which was right next to my tiny bedroom. It was a long hallway from there, which passed by the kitchen and ended in the spacious square living room. Past the living room came my Dad and Mom’s bedroom. Then off the sides of my parent’s bedroom were two more bedrooms which belonged to my two other brothers and a sister. I had a rather large family. But the rest were married and off on their own.

Well, right from day one that I slept there, some strong energy started lifting my bed at the foot about 2 feet up in the air. It lifted and continued swinging it up and down, up and down. At first, I shrugged it off as a thing of my mind or my nerves, or even, my been tired. Then it continued the next night, and the next, and the next. Then it began earlier as I rested at 4pm or 5 after I got off school before doing my chores. Well, I began to feel concerned, but told no one. I didn’t share this with my parents, my Pastor, or the Preacher. It was my secret and Jesus’.

So, whenever this happened, I took to reading the Bible. At that exact moment, the thing stopped. It left me alone for the duration of the night. But next day it would start again. And then it got more frequent. This went on, as I said before, for 3 years. It didn’t scare me because I knew what I was dealing with.

It is my understanding, that ignorance is the biggest catalyst of fear and panic.

Nevertheless, one part particularly shook me the most. Came winter the second year of residing in that apartment, and I sealed the windows of my bedroom very tight with newspaper material. That was the norm for old structures, where the wood was so old and stretched that it came undone from the concrete or the building blocks. Then you sealed the gaps nice and tight and save some energy besides staying a little warmer.

One freezing night I got under two blankets and a quilt after saying my prayers and reading the Bible. This stop it after it started swinging the bed. Then I fell nicely asleep. Only to wake up about 2 am, standing on the windowsill with the window opened, ready to jump 4 floors down to my death. Luckily, the chilled wind from the opened window woke me up. This spirit had enough energy to open the window, and place me up there somehow, I don’t know how, because I’m not a sleepwalker. But this thing wanted me out of there at no matter what cost.

I closed the window back up, did a quickie of sealing everything tight again, said my prayers, read the Bible, and fell peacefully asleep again. I never woke up standing in the window ever again, but the swinging was tormenting me. However, I kept up my fight, struggling and praying and reading the Bible for those three years.

One day a brother of mine came to ask me, after I graduated, if I wanted to go work with him in Pennsylvania. I was awaiting my card to enter the US Air Force, so I agreed, but only until my AF card arrived. Actually, I was glad that I was getting away from that hell in that apartment in the Bronx.

I moved in with my older brother and his wife and I started working right away. The spirit stayed behind. 3 months had passed when my AF card came in announcing my induction into the USAF.

I joined the AF and a year and a half later, I was headed to Vietnam. After I came back from Nam, my parents had left that apartment and moved to Pennsylvania, closer to my brother. Well, I had some furlough time and stood home for about a month until my orders came in to my next assignment with the Air Force.

While I waited at home, my father approached me one morning at breakfast and asked me:

“Lou — what do you think about that apartment in the Bronx? How did you like your bedroom back then?

Right there something clicked in me and told me that my dad might have known something about my bedroom back there in NYC and I replied, “Why you ask?”

Then he went on to tell me that he moved out of there when he found out that in my room, not long ago, a prostitute had been butchered. Afterwards he explained that now he understood why one night, while I came home from church, he waited for me before going to sleep.

As he read the newspaper in the living room while sitting in a position to where he could see down the hallway to the entrance door whenever I arrived, he began to listen as if the keys to the door were turning the latch. His assurance got the best of him while he read an interesting subject in the paper. He failed to look up and didn’t see me entering the door. But when he looked, he did see when the light, showing through the bottom of my bedroom door, came on. He then continued reading expecting me to go drink something before going to bed, which I always did. Then we would discuss the sermon and so on. And he waited and waited, and waited, but noone showed up. The he decided to take a look, to see why I had not come out of my bedroom.

When he looked, there was nobody. The light was on and the string was swinging back and forth. That was during winter and the windows were sealed tight. That’s when he panicked and ran out. He said he went straight to his bed and pulled the blanket up over his head.

Then, he said that he really heard the keys in the door and heard me come in. Subsequently he hollered my blessings and kept on sleeping. He never said anything until now that they were in Pennsylvania, mainly because he didn’t want to scare me. Ha!

He really got tight when I told him my agony.

After 46 years of this experience, my Spiritual Guides these last days informed me, that the poor spirit, victim of a murder, all it wanted was his bed back. It was in the hopes that the body that had left it, would come back so it could re-enter to continue its interrupted life. It refused to realize for obvious reasons that its body would never be back. And while I was in its bed, its body would not come in there. So it thought!