Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Nana's Watching You

The story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. If this story weren't from one of my closest friends, I might not give it the time of day. But it is, so here it is... My friend and his wife went looking for a house in the historic district of Columbus, Georgia. After several months, they found an old Victorian fixer-upper just a couple of blocks off of the Chattahoochee River and began work on it. About a year after they moved in I was traveling in the area and stopped by for a visit. Now my buddy and have a long tradition of evening chats over bourbon and cigars and so it was on the second night of my visit. On his veranda watching the night fall and the street lights come on one by one up and down the tree-lined street. As always, the discussion centered around Formula 1 and his vintage Alfa Romeo. After a brief pause, he asked, "Did you sleep OK last night?" Now my buddy, apart from living in a house still under repair, is a "collector" and his homes eventually turn into in-city land fills with books and papers and magazines and brick-a-brak filling every room, (I seem to collect friends who are collectors.) the guest room being no exception, with just enough free space for a twin bed and dresser top. Thinking this the object of his concern for my comfort I, of course, replied, "Yeah. I slept fine." "You didn't hear any noise?" he inquired. Wondering if he and the Mrs. had gotten it on and was afraid I had heard them, I replied "No." (Although I do remember thinking that was strange coming from someone whom I once sat next to and carried on a conversation with while he was poking some fat girl from the rear on the beach.) He said, "You didn't hear anything on the stairs?" After thinking about it I said, "Yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I do remember someone going down to the bathroom. Why?" He said, "Because no one went down to the bathroom." After digesting that for a moment, I said, "Are you telling me there's a ghost in the house?" He nodded, "Yep, there sure is." "There used to be several of them," he continued. "They were making so much noise that (his wife) was scared half to death. I had to hire an exorcist to get rid of them. All except this one, but he seems harmless enough." I said, "Alright, you've got my attention. Let's hear the story." He said he did some research and found that following the Civil War the house became a home for wounded war veterans, several of whom died there. Later it became a boarding house but no one would stay for any length of time because of the noise. Several times it was bought and eventually sold because the owners couldn't handle it. It sat vacant for some years before they bought it... at a bargain price. He said when he thinks back on it, he remembers when he first stopped to look at it he was peering into one of the windows when he had the distinct feeling of someone standing next to him. Not just that, but he could smell him as well. He looked around and, of course, no one was there. I saw my friend just a few months ago and asked about the ghost. Was he still there? "Yep," he replied. "He likes to play little tricks. For awhile we would come out in the morning to take the dogs for a walk and find knots tied in their leashes. We kept them on the back porch so we thought some neighborhood kids were fooling around. Then we brought them inside and it still happened. But then it stopped. The dogs used to whine and act uneasy but they've gotten used to him. But you can tell when he's in the room because they can sense him and lift their heads and look around." I asked him, "Doesn't it bother you to know something's watching you?" He said, "It used to but now we never think about it. If he doesn't like it he can leave." It makes me wonder if Nana is watching me every time I slip into the bathroom to wang dang doodle.


  1. I've actually experienced some ghostly activity so am a believer. However, in this post, I just can't move beyond the visual of you talking to your buddy on the beach while he was boinking the voluptuous female.

  2. If she was she'd make hair grow all over your preferred palm. You shaving your right palm or your left these days Mr. C?

    And where was this beach, was your friend the life guard? Or just resuscitating the young woman?

  3. WM.. It was my right palm and a bitch to shave until I discovered Nair.

    Peach, you are a sexy little devil. We'll talk about the beach boink another time, I want to hear your ghost story.

  4. You can betcher sweet ass that Nana's takin' a gander are all the other poor lost souls wanderin' around the face of this wretched place we call earth. Oh yes hun, I hate to tell ya this but, we're totally surrounded! Kinda cool tho, ain't it?

    Hey, thanx for the email heads up. Glad ya pulled my coat to this place. I've gotta feelin' I'm gonna get mighty comfy here.

  5. Ha. I can remember a friend once saying how she found comfort in the thought that her dead relatives were still wandering around keeping an eye on her (not her exact words), and how I expressed incredulity – I may even said “You mean while you’re going to the toilet too?”

    As you say, the idea is rather disturbing. Are we to be allowed no privacy?

  6. what a great story, Mr. C! yeah, and stuff does happen like that...even if we try to believe it don't, huh?

    I'm not sure I want a ghost watching some things I do! hahaha! eeeeek!


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