The Little White Man
Name: Email: Location: Kidderminster Type: Ghost
This occurence happened to my friend Collin P. and myself John G. in about 1959. At the time we were about 13 and still attending Hagley RC High School. The time was about 8.00 - 8.30 PM, the month I no longer remember but it was in the Northern Hemisphere Autumn - Winter because it was dark quite early.
The local town was Kidderminster in the County of Worcestershire, roughly in the middle of England. The area was Birchen Coppice, a housing estate owned by the local council, it was then, a respectable area as it was only probably 8 years old, I believe the area is now more of a slum but I haven't been there in 33 years as we moved in the middle '60's and then I re-located to Australia in '67.
A bit of geography is needed here so;
The street we lived in was Kinver Ave, the rear of our houses backed onto undeveloped bushland which went on into some pretty, unspoiled countryside in most directions. However the area just to the rear and to the south was called "The Burlish Camp". This Camp was built in WW2 as a repatriation hospital for US servicemen. After WW2 it was used to house Polish war refugees. As children we played, mixed and schooled with their children. In the middle '50s the people were re located and the whole area was knocked flat, except for one lonley structure called the "Water Tower".
As the name suggests it was exactly that, a very large brick tower, from childhood memory about 50ft by 50ft by 80 - 100ft high with a giant water tank in the top. It was used to supply the Burlish Camp with water.There were 8 windows, 4 at the rear and 4 at the front. The first pair about 30ft from the ground, the next pair another 30ft up. There was a steel door on the southern side but it was bricked up in the middle '50s. There was never any electricity to it and it was now inaccessible.
Back to the story; Colin and I were just hanging out, at the end of our street under a street light.This street light was at the junction where our tarred street met with a wide dirt track that lead over to the Burlish Camp, straight passed the Water Tower and onto a small town called Stourport-on-Severn about 4 miles further on. During our conversation Colin said " hey look at those lights in the Water Tower", (the tower was probably 1/4 mile away but could be made out in the moonlight).
I was quite supprised, because we could see some form of moving or blinking light in the window area of the Tower. The light colour did not appear as normal to what we call light ie candles and incandescent light seems to have a warm and yellow content, this light light was very sallow white to opaque.
A short time later, about 20 yds from us on the dirt track at angle of about 45 degrees we could see a light, the same colour light that was in the Tower.
From this point on, in the following events, I have no recollection of time;
I remember we thought it was someone on a bicycle because the light seemed to fall to the ground, we started giggling saying it must be someone drunk and fell off their bike.
In the next instance, I remember myself drawn and staring wide eyed at the figure of a man particularly at the face, it was side on, very distinguinshable features; vertical flat forehead, long pointed nose, sunken very staring eyes, because my concentration was so intense and to the head, I did not seem to observe any body detail, except the lack of normal motion movements, he appeared to float along. Opaque, we could see right through him.
Also the ground all around seemed to crackle, as if Rice Chrispies were being trodden on.
Next, I picked up a stone and threw it in his direction, Colin was pulling at my left arm screaming at me not to throw it. The stone, I estimate, fell short but in line, as it hit the soft grass with a "thud" the man brought up his arm as if to protect his face, my legs went to jelly, I fell to the ground and the vision disappeared, Colin ran off holding his ears and screaming as he stumbled off running through peoples front gardens.
BUT..... I vividly recall floating above the street light, I can remember detail such as the bird droppings on top of the post. I watched Colin pulling my left arm, me throwing the stone, collapsing on the ground and Colin running away screaming.
I recall a lady from a nearby house coming out and bending over me.
The next thing I remember was lying on the ground and a lady, Mrs Sayers, bending over me asking if I was ok, and "what was all that shouting"?
I ran home very scared. Collin lost his hearing for 2 days. We made a pact not to tell for fear of ridicule, anyhow as time went by we told, and we got laughed at. But I could never see anything funny about it, this occurrence left an indelible mark on me.
Some years later at age, maybe, 16, I had been out fox hunting with a companion Peter G. Peter wasn't a local and was unfamilliar with our area, we were heading back to my home,
on a "Dirt" motorcycle at about 2.30-3.00 am, Peter was pillion, I was riding. When we were directly in front of the Tower, a few hundred yards away, Peter shouted to me "who lives over there", I said,"overwhere"? as I concentrated on riding with no lights; "over there", to your left, as I looked to my left I was looking at the Tower. My eyes nearly popped, my jaw dropped, I was agast. Each of the windows in the tower had those same lights as years before, but even more startling, we could distinctly see people like figures, lined up as if waiting to go in where the door used to be, the figures were not distinguishable seperatley but were the same opaque colour as the "little white man". That motorbike became the fastest bike in the land.
Many years later, talking to my late dad, we were passing the time talking about our familly,being kids, where we lived, neighbours and the like,dad was telling me how in the post war years 1956 - 1960 times were hard and 5 or 6 of the local ladies would work continuous night shifts in an electrical insulator manufacturing plant, in the above mentioned town called Stourport-on-Severn. He said they would cycle 8 - 10 miles to work each way instead of 4 miles short cut through the Burlish Camp. I said "how come dad", oh he replied, "Mrs Hawker next door says that none of the woemen feel good going that way, it always seems very still and eerie when they goe past the Tower, and when they come home in the morning, the birds are singing but, not up there by the Tower, its always still and quiet". Dad chuckled. I didn't, I knew just what they meant.
Well, in the mid to late 60's the tower was to be removed to make way for a communications
repeater station, the local news was there to cover the big Bang, it took 3 days of drilling and
explosives to finally fell the Tower, the experts were scratching their heads, they couldn't understand how it stayed up through so many explosive attempts.