When I began
writing these stories each week, I had no intent to tell this one. But now, I have come to feel
that after thirty two years, it is time to tell it. It is true, all of it, to
the best of my own recollection. This is exactly what I recall to the best of
my knowledge, and I want to put it all down, before I forget any of it. If you want to ask me any questions about it I will answer to the best of my ability and remembrance. I only put the first letters of places and names in this story, but I am sure if you tried you could pretty easily fill in the blanks. My hope is that along with providing a (hopefully enjoyable) story for readers, that I have preserved it in some form. Although, I have had other experiences that could be termed unexplained or paranormal, this was the first and some part of me feels all the experiences are connected. Some day, perhaps I will write down the others as well.
My Ghost Story
I grew up in a village in Nova Scotia called
B____ H___. In 1986 I was in boy scouts and my family attended church at Saint
G______ Anglican Church. That year, I was looking to get a community service
badge, and it just so happened that the church had gotten a new minister. I
asked him if I could do community service work to go towards my badge. He said
to show up at the church the next Saturday.
That Saturday morning, when I arrived something
odd occurred right away. Another guy, slightly older than myself and in high
school, had been hired on to work as the janitor. When I arrived he was just
finishing up. The minister had not yet come out of his house next door.
M___, the janitor and I talked for a second
and he warned me to be careful inside and when I asked why, he told me that he
never went upstairs alone. He claimed downstairs was safe, but upstairs was
haunted. I laughed, shrugged him off, and waved as he took off on his bike.
The minister came out and greeted me. Father
D___ was a pleasant man and easy to talk to. He told me he had plans for young
people in the church. He wanted to start both a youth group and a servers
guild. We entered the church and he took me upstairs to the vestry.
Saint G_____ appeared very mid-century, built
on a budget, but still nice. I liked the smell of the candles and on Saturday
morning it was bright and there was a sense of calm inside. Father D___
explained that I would be polishing the brass and silver and gave a quick
demonstration on what to do. He then said he had to work on the sermon for
Sunday. He told me I could open the side door if I had to get out, but he was
locking the doors so no one would come in and disturb me. I would be left alone
to do my work.
I had no issue with this, and in fact, after
he left, from the door window when I looked, I could actually see him in the
window of his home, sitting at his desk writing.
I sat down in the vestry and began on a brass
cross at the top of a pole which was carried in processionals.
Things were fine for about twenty minutes.
Then I heard footsteps. Someone had entered the church somehow and was walking
up the aisle. I never even thought at the time about how the aisle had thick
red carpet that would have dulled the sound of walking. These footsteps were
heavy, thumping. I wasn’t afraid. I just assumed maybe the door hadn’t locked
after all and someone had come in.
I popped my head out of the vestry.
Instantaneously, the footsteps stopped. There was absolute silence. I looked
down the rows of pews and all seemed okay. Something just felt different
though, heavier and I didn’t like it and I no longer felt alone. I stepped back
into the vestry and continued polishing. The footsteps started again.
“Hello!” I called out and stuck my head out
again. Again, everything stopped. What should I do, I wondered. I walked down
the aisle to the entrance where in the lobby were a set of large wooden double
doors. There was a chain latch lock across them and a deadbolt. So, no one was
coming in there. I went to the other door and looked out the window. Father
D___ was still working at his desk.
I knew something was in there with me, and I
had no idea what, but I was a pretty skeptical person. So I decided to try to
catch it in the act. I grabbed a chalice next for polishing and brought it out
into the main area. I sat down on the dais in front of the altar where I could
look straight down the aisle and observe the entire church.
I continued on polishing, waiting for
something to happen again, but it didn’t. Nothing at all and after being in the
church for two to three hours, Father D___ came back, unlocked the door, and
said I could leave. I just kind of brushed off what had happened as
noises in an old building. I had no idea though, that this was just the
beginning.
Back then I was hanging out with three good
friends, M___, G___ and Winky. Yes, Winky. His real name was S____, but he had Tourette’s
syndrome and everyone we knew called him Winky. I called him S____, as Winky
always felt rather mean. One day S____ told me that he had just joined the
servers’ guild at church. He had already asked M___ and G___ and now he wanted
me in as well. He said they planned on meeting on Saturday evenings, to play
sports in the church basement and do server things.
At first I was not too keen on the idea. I
wasn’t really into religion, but there wasn’t really much going on with my
Saturday evenings, especially if all my friends were going to be at church. So
I agreed to go with them to the first meeting.
Father D___ was not a bad guy, and he made us
all feel like he was more than an average man, but a friend who talked with us
all at our level. There was more than just the four of us. There was also
W____, J___, G_____ and G___ W_____, and Chunk (He was a chunky kid named
J____). At the first meeting we talked for a bit and Father D___ took us
upstairs and showed us how he prepared for Sunday service. Our job was to
assist and make sure candles were set out, brass and silver polished, and
everything was in place Saturday night for that Sunday service.
Afterwards when we were walking home, I
remembered about the noises I had heard while working there and I mentioned it
to S____, M___ and G___. They kind of laughed at me of course and that was the
end of the first night.
The next week, everyone was in attendance and
Father D___ left us in the basement to play floor hockey while he was doing
some other business next door at his house. We were all tearing around,
shouting and having fun. Someone scored a goal and when the excitement of that
ended and the room got quieter, we all heard something. It was overhead, from
upstairs in the church which we were told was locked. It was the sound of
heavy, footsteps thumping hard, pounding across the floor upstairs. Something
huge was running up and down the nave.
We were boys. We were of course freaked out.
Then, I think it was J___ who clutching a red plastic floor hockey stick headed
to the stairs to check things out, ready to not be cowardly with a plastic
stick for a weapon. We all did the same and kind of huddled together as one, we
crept up the stairs to the door leading into the church. We could hear it
running. Just the sound of footsteps, like someone in big, heavy boots.
J___ grabbed the door knob and swung the door
open and we all spilled into the church. Silence. Absolute silence in the
darkness, but it felt electric. It felt creepy and different up here at night.
We looked all around and found nothing. S____ said to me that well maybe it was
just building sounds. At least, it wasn’t ghosts which he did not believe in he
said. His opinion soon changed.
From this time on, hearing the noises
escalated. I am not sure if it was because of collective hysteria, but we heard
the noises every time we were there. Sometimes as a group, or just one of us
would tell the others they had heard something. However, nothing was seen. Part
of our job for Sunday mornings was to put out the candles in holders throughout
the church. One day, it was noticed on a Sunday morning that the candles had
been previously burned and were shorter than when placed out on Saturday night.
We had also began hearing reports of people passing by in the night and seeing
lights on in the church. Father D___ mentioned that people had been knocking on
his door sometimes to say they had seen lights on or figures moving. He
admitted going over to the church and having to turn off lights or thinking
that maybe the candles had been burning recently.
We told Father D___ about the noises and at
first he did not believe us. He said he had heard the sounds, but he thought it
was the usual sounds of the building, especially in winter as the temperature
changed. We told him that we believed candles were being burned. He kind of
laughed it off. He thought we were being kids and that it would be fun to play
a joke. One evening while we were in the church basement with him, we heard
noises upstairs. We all ran upstairs to look and see what we could find. As we
made our way to the back of the church, I realized that both S____ and Father
D___ were not with us. As we came to the double doors at the back of the
church, they began to shake in front of us very hard. The other servers
screamed and began to run away, except for me and J___. As J___ was about to
run I had grabbed his arm and whispered, “It’s S____ and Father D___!”
Me and J___ stood there in the foyer,
laughing, relieved as the others tore back down the stairs. The doors stopped
banging and we smiled at one another knowing we knew what was going on. We then
could hear both S____ and Father D___ laughing at everyone downstairs again as
they had gone back around the outside and into the basement, Father D___
calling them foolish for believing in a ghost.
It was at this moment as we stood upstairs,
hearing the laughter below us, that the chain lock stretching across the two
doors lifted on its own accord and began to bang faster and faster up and down
against the doors. As we stared, the doors began to vibrate, rattling in a different
way than moments before. We tripped over each other running and rushing down
the stairs. No one believed us that it had happened. I think Father D___
believed I was lying to him and that made me feel very poorly.
At this time, S____ suggested that to solve
the issue of whether or not the candles were being burned, that on Saturdays,
we would make sure we stayed last and then, we would sneak upstairs and make a
mark in the top of each candle with our fingernails. If the mark was gone the
next morning we would know the candles had been lit at some point in the night.
We began to do this regularly. Sometimes we believed the candles had been lit,
other times not lit. We also noticed that some times other items were moved out
of place and we had to rush to put them in place before morning service.
It was during the course of this, that we
encountered what I will call a shadow man. At least, that is what paranormal
researchers today would call it. None of us had any knowledge of such things
back in 1986 as kids. We had been hearing stories of something in the church.
Some of the lay readers for example, mentioned that when they were meeting
upstairs they had seen a strange black shadow, like a dog. Some choir members
mentioned shadows as well. One night, after a server meeting, G_____ &
G___, the two brothers had to wait for their father to pick them up. They did
not want to wait alone, nor did they feel comfortable waiting inside the
church. So, I hung out with them in the parking lot. When their father showed
up he asked why they were outside in the cold. They said because it was
haunted, making him laugh. Afterwards I went to walk home. For some reason
though, I looked back behind me at the church from maybe about a hundred feet
away, across the road. It had one large set of stained glass windows on the end
facing me. The night was bright and I was standing all alone. Inside the church
seemed illuminated with flickering light, as if by candles. Next, as I watched
a large shadow spread across the window as if from a tall figure walking past
inside.
I ran to get Father D___ and we went over to
the church together but could find nothing. He did say something was happening
at night, but that he wasn’t sure what. I asked if he thought it was a ghost.
He said he did not think so and kind of laughed, but looked troubled. He said
not to worry about it.
Shortly afterwards, I arrived one Saturday.
Things needed polished and the other guys wanted to make a run to the
convenience store less than a block away for some junk food. I said I would
stay and work if they would bring me back some red licorice. That way someone
would be there and the door would not need to be locked.
Off they went. It was like a repeat of my very
first incident. I was in the vestry polishing not five minutes after they left
and I heard the footsteps again. I looked out and they stopped. It felt
different though. Like there was a dark energy that hadn’t been there moments
before. I walked down the nave looking at all the pews and went to the foyer,
again where the double doors were. I turned to walk back, and when I did I saw
the shadow. It was approximately seven to eight feet tall. It had a shape much like
a man in a hooded robe. What would be the sleeves, hung down long past the
hands. It was as if it was sucking the light from around it into the center of
itself to create darkness. I do not remember seeing feet or how it moved. I
just don’t know, although I was staring right at it. It was on the right side
of the church and maybe about three quarters of the way up the side in front of
me.
As I stared, somehow it moved, flowingly
towards me. I don’t know if it went through the pews or between the pews, but
somehow, it glided out into the center aisle and was coming slowly and steadily
towards me. It felt as if it was growing, enveloping the room if that makes
sense. I froze, like a deer caught in headlights. I couldn’t look away and I
lost all sense of time. I knew it was coming for me and there was nothing I
could do. It came to maybe within four feet and all I could feel was enveloping
darkness. I could not think, I could not breathe. Everything slipped away and I
faded into unconsciousness while still standing.
I came to, laying on the floor and my friend
M___ was there. He said they had returned from the store and him and one of the
others had come upstairs to get me. He said I was laying at the back of the
church, face down. He ran to me while the other guy had gone for help. M___
said he had rolled me over and I began to wake up. Then, the other servers and
Father D___ arrived. He was very concerned but I assured him I felt fine. To be
honest, I did feel fine at the time, but as the years have gone by, this one
point in my life has haunted me many times in different places, making me feel
creeped out, or if I am nervous of a spot I expect to see that thing again.
Time and again it has entered my mind as I wonder what exactly it was. It felt,
more than anything else in my life, evil. Sometimes I have left a place because
it has had the same familiar feeling and I have come to wonder if I am being
watched then. It feels like it is checking in on me as if to say it is still
there, waiting. When we were alone, I described my experience and he said to
not talk about it, especially in front of the others. He gave me the impression
that it wasn’t that he did not believe me, but that if we all ignored it, it
would go away.
We were all concerned, but at the same time we
were kids. There was along with the fear of the noises, a sense of adventure.
Plus we were all coming together, hanging out, playing floor hockey and just
having fun. My friend M___ lived more out of town with no other friends close
by. His parents had divorced and he lived with an aunt while his father worked
as a trucker who was gone for extended periods.
On one particular night, just around Christmas
we were having a meeting and again the footsteps, now commonplace, began again.
M___ was the only one who wanted to check it out. By this time we had grown
accustomed to nothing being there when we looked. It had been maybe a month since
my own personal encounter. We were in the church basement again and he headed
up the stairs. We heard nothing. The footsteps stopped and he was gone for
maybe three minutes. When he came back he walked right by me, heading for the
door, looking rattled. All he said was, “I need to go home now.” It would be
another eleven years before I saw him again when he surprised me by flying in
and attending my wedding. I will return to that later.
Since M___ left, I spent more time hanging out
with S____. G___ had been anchored to us via M___ and soon he kind of drifted
away as well and found other things and friends besides going to a church group
to do. Me and S____ became the oldest and were given more responsibilities over
the younger servers especially to watch over them on meeting nights. S____
wanted to investigate what was going on more and we would look around and he
would speak with the older lay readers to discover if they had seen anything
odd. It was still, somehow an exciting adventure to us. The lay readers only
reiterated to S____ what we had heard before from them. The stories of odd
shadows, however, they admitted they also had heard the footsteps.
Finally, what brought everything to a head was
that myself and S____ went upstairs one Saturday afternoon. For some reason I
can’t recall. I think it was that the meeting was cancelled but the setup for
Sunday needed done so we went by the church in the afternoon. I went into the
vestry and S____ went to straighten up some items that were kept on a table at
the rear. A moment later, he called out for me to come and look at something. I
looked out and he was standing near the back of the church, looking down at the
floor.
I walked over to where he was and he pointed
down at the red carpet. There was a distinct shape on the red carpet. It was a
black footprint of a dog. Really weird. Winky pointed out others to me and said
how to him it looked as if whatever it was had been walking on two legs. I knew
nothing back then about tracking or anything, but knew he went hunting with his
dad, so at that age he was the expert. Needless to say, we were shocked and
nervous. We immediately went to get Father D___. He came with us back to the
church and after he examined the carpet, we had a good talk about everything
going on. He decided on the spot that he was going to bless the church.
We helped him get ready, watched as he
prepared holy water, and then he informed us that in case anything happened, or
appeared he would prefer if we waited outside the door. We went outside but
hung around trying to listen. We were both nervous, looking at one another,
wondering what was going on. Just after about ten to fifteen minutes, there was
something. I don’t quite know how to explain it. It was almost like a crack or
a groan, as the entire church seemed to shift and settle. The door opened and
there was Father D___ looking kind of disheveled. We went inside and there was
an electric feeling like ozone in the air or something, but the building felt
better somehow. It was as if a storm had passed and the air had cleared.
Father D___ told us that he thought there had
been something in the church, a dark entity. He said he had driven it away, but
we were to not speak of it again. Speaking about it and telling others about it
he said may bring it back, worse than before even. We agreed to what he asked
and shortly after we went home until Sunday morning, when we had a shock. At
the end of his service on Sunday, Father D___ made a surprise announcement. As
he made his declaration that he was leaving immediately, he stared directly at
me and S____. He said that it was his last service. The entire congregation was
quite upset, and by the next Sunday he was moved and gone. Shortly afterwards,
I stopped attending church.
Time has passed and I am still in touch with
S____, who does not speak about that time. I have run into some of the other
servers over the years and they were too afraid to want to speak about what
happened. I came across a book written by a woman who had lived up the road. I
guess you could call it self published and it was about local places to the
village. It was called H___ A__ T____ I_ B____ H___, by M____ B____. We used to
visit her as kids and I had forgotten she had written that book.
In the book was a section on the church. I do
not know if the information is actually factual, but it says the beams in the
walls came from a ship that had sunk and the bell was from an old steam engine
which had crashed killing the engineer. Finally, it says that the bishop chair
along with a lectern and some other items came out of a church in the nearby
community of L__________ which had burned to the ground.
In 1997, I was married and my friend M___ came
to the wedding, much to my delight. We were able to reconnect and shortly
thereafter when I travelled to Ontario for work, I visited him at his apartment
in Scarborough. We talked about the incident at the church and I asked what had
happened the night he disappeared. As a kid, all I had heard was that his
father had passed away and he had moved to Toronto to live with his mother.
M___ told me that night long ago, he had heard
the noises and went up the stairs but on his way up the stairs he looked up and
at the top of the stairs, stood his father looking back down at him, sadly. He
said it looked like his father, but he did not feel that it was his father, and
that something was horribly wrong. He ran away and biked home that night, only
to be greeted by his aunt who informed him that his father had been killed in a
truck accident in Newfoundland. The church and the image of his father has
haunted him ever since and we spoke of it last in 2016 when we met in Halifax
on his honeymoon.
In 2008, my family purchased a tent. We had
some great camping trips across New Brunswick where we lived at the time. The
summer of 2011, we took a trip to G____ M_____, and by chance in a small
tourist shop on the island I came across a rack of cards. The front of the
cards had a series of sketches by a local artist whose name was very familiar.
It was Father D___. I spoke to the clerk who knew him. It turns out that he had
been living on this island all of that time, not leaving, and I wish I had gone
and paid him a visit, but I found the cards on the day that we left and had to
catch the ferry back to the mainland.
So, that is my ghost story which is all true.
The church is still there, but I believe it sat empty for some time as
congregations shrank and became amalgamated into new ones. You can see it if
you visit my home town. It is a simple building, painted or stained red on
P_____ Road and few people would guess the events that took place there over thirty
years ago in the nineteen eighties.
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