I received an e-mail from someone after reading my "Not About Terri Schiavo" post. The person said there is no Heaven or Hell. When you die, you're gone. Journey over. It made me think a little and I decided to respond with this post.
When I was living on Bonnell Street, in Flemington, NJ, back in the late 70s, I had several experiences that you could call strange. One night, lying in bed, I was dozing off, but awakened by the front door opening. At that time, I lived alone and my bedroom was the first one up the stairs. I heard footsteps, like female footsteps, not heavy, walk across the room and start up the stairs. I was sure I had locked the door. I waited until the steps came almost to the top. There was no way I was going to let an intruder near me. I jumped out of bed and at the same time I turned on the light switch, I kicked into the air at my target. There was no one there. OK. The possibility of it being a dream was true, but, I've never dreamed like that. I wasn't on drugs. When I was awake, I still heard the footsteps coming up. I heard the door open. I was scared and quite alert. What was it? I don't know. When I first moved in, I heard voices coming from the kitchen a couple of times. It stopped whenever I entered the room. No one was outside talking. Those, I just ignored. Thought nothing of it. Until...
When I started seeing Maryen, but before she moved in, we were going out for the night to hear a friend, Ken Yard play in a band in Easton, PA. Ken and his girlfriend, Nancy were living with me at that time. They had left hours earlier. We stopped at Maryen's and then mine to get changed. While I was in the bedroom looking through my dresser, Maryen went down the hall to the bathroom. She left the door open. The downstairs door opened and up the stairs walked a female. I assumed Nancy had come back for something because she walked right into their bedroom. They should have been hours away. When Maryen came to my room, she said that Nancy was home. I said, yes, I know, I heard her. When I had glanced out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow walk by. Maryen saw the same thing. I yelled, Hi, Nancy! There was no answer. We walked into their room. No one was there. I looked under the bed and in the closet. Nothing. I would have shrugged it off again, but, Maryen heard and saw the same thing as I did. I had never brought up the notion of spirits in the house to her before. I mean, we hadn't been together that long. I didn't want her to think I was crazy. Was that strange? Or were we? We never experienced anything again.
About a year or so later, I ran into an author and locally renowned historion on Flemington and Hunterdon County. When I told her of my incidents, I piqued her interest. She researched the address. Later, she told me a seven year old girl had drowned in a well out back hundreds of years ago. The well was long gone. At one time, the house was part of the Fleming Castle estate, most likely a barn, erected after the castle was built in 1756.
I had always been skeptical about ghosts until those experiences. I can't say for sure that I believe in them, but, I won't say that I don't, either. I think what I'm trying to say, is that, if there is even a remote possibility of the existence of apparitions, then there is also that chance of an afterlife.
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