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Quantum fluctuations in space, science, exploration and other cosmic fields... served up regularly by MSNBC.com science editor Alan Boyle since 2002.

Alan Boyle covers the physical sciences, anthropology, technological innovation and space science and exploration for MSNBC.com. He is a winner of the AAAS Science Journalism Award, the NASW Science-in-Society Award and other honors; a contributor to "A Field Guide for Science Writers"; and a member of the board of the Council for the Advancement of Science Writing.

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Bring me your ghost stories!

Posted: Tuesday, October 31, 2006 7:50 PM by Alan Boyle

Halloween is the traditional time for ghost stories, whether they're true or ... well, let's just say embellished. Here at the Log, our tradition is to share spooky tales of the unexplained as well as the explainable. In past years, we've had the saga of the haunted garbage disposal, the tale of the phantom horse, the out-of-body birthing experience, the hole in the attic and the case of the unseen door. Now it's your turn ...

OK, I admit that I'm a little late to the Halloween party. Blame it on Baltimore: I've been covering the New Horizons in Science symposium, sponsored by the Council for the Advancement of Science Writing - and I've been so busy that I almost had to put off my plan to visit the grave of Edgar Allen Poe, Baltimore's local boy made mournful (see below).

So I'm leaving it to you to set the proper mood for the spooky season. To get into the spirit, you can check out Archaeology magazine's exploration of Halloween's Celtic roots, a documentary on the "British UFO Files" and this saga of a serious ghost-hunter. If you're on the skeptical side, you'll enjoy these scientific disproofs of the supernatural, this survey of ghost-hunting history amd a professor's Halloween reality check.

Do you have a tale of the unexplained? Or a spooky experience that turned out to have a perfectly natural explanation? Feel free to share them in the comments section below.

Update for 10:50 p.m. ET (7:50 p.m. PT) Oct. 31: While I pondered, weak and weary, over the map to Poe's monument in the Westminster Graveyard ... I finally decided to take a walk and see what I could see of the landmark.

Fortunately, I didn't get to the cemetery upon a midnight dreary, but upon a 9 o'clock cheery. A Halloween graveyard party was winding up, and I was able to slip through the wrought-iron gate to take in the festivities.

In one corner, a masked, red-caped woman was reading from Poe's "Masque of the Red Death." More than a dozen listeners, some in costume, spread out in the grass, amid the gravestones. Some lounged cross-legged on the tops of the burial vaults, as if they were taking in a summer concert rather than a fall spookfest.

In another corner, an actor playing the part of a Revolutionary War officer perched gargoylishly on a monument in the darkness, explained the ins and outs of the Continental Army to bystanders.

In the middle, tourgoers trooped through the catacombs of Westminster Hall, stopping by real-life crypts and graves. One epitaph, written by a husband for his late wife in 1813, exclaimed: "Her death was as calm and resigned as her life was pure and virtuous!"

And in the northwest corner, the Poe family's marble monument was illuminated by spotlights. Someone placed a fresh bouquet of roses on the stone ledge as a tribute, but somehow the withered flowers left behind from past visits seemed more fitting for the occasion.

Strangely enough, the atmosphere at the Halloween tour wasn't gloomy or macabre at all, but surprisingly lighthearted. But then again, who can feel gloomy when you're in the presence of teenage trick-or-treaters dressed like winged sprites, Japanese schoolgirls and good-looking Goths? It was the most pleasant cemetery I've ever been in.

Halloween at the Poe gravesite comes just once a year, but you can visit the monument any day until dusk. Guided tours of Westminster Hall and Burying Ground are occasionally organized by the Mysterious Maryland Tour Co.

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I was about 5 years old (circa 1976)when I saw what many would call a ghost. I had been exploring a barn behind a farm house my parents were renting in Dillsburg, PA when I saw an apparition of a woman in old fashioned clothes (late 1800's style)floating above a haystack. I didn't realize it at that moment but in retrospect she was hanging by her neck from the rafter above her. All I can remember thinking when I saw here was "this is something I shouldn't be seeing." I ran into the house and told my mother what I saw. I don't necessarily believe in "ghosts" but I know what I experienced!
I was in Iraq last year on FOB Honor, and while me and my friend were walking through one of the abandoned buildings, to make sure that we had all of the Army equipment cleared out, we decided to check a hallway in the basement. We each had an LED (Light Emitting Diode) flashlight, which is supposedly guranteed to never go out. We started down the hal and noticed a reflection about foot level at the end and figured it was a Cat or something, so we continued. About halfway down one of the halls, one LED flashlight burned out in my hand, we decided to continue anyway. Shortly after, my camera broke as well, also, his camera stopped working. We decided to turn around because we didn't want our last flashlight to go out, leaving us in a basement with no light. When we were turning around, we noticed that carved into the wall was a pentagram and under it was written "666 Sign of the Beast" We left quickly.
i have notes that my wife dead aunt has written us over the years.plus stories like taking the baby upstairs & putting him next to my wife while i fixed the furance in the basement.this proves to me that their is life after death and it is a careing love.not all of us have a spirit guiding use but all good people that love and help other people do.believe because it is the truth....
forgot to add to my note about my wife aunt help us she also has a funny side like throwing the wash cloth at me while my wife was fixing her hair in the bath room as well.so keep the faith helping love is the key to heaven..rich
WHEN I WAS 16, I WAS SLEEPING ( NEVER REMEMBER MY DREAMS) BUT THAT DAY I DO REMEMBER THAT IN A MOMENT IT WAS BLANK AND IN THE OTHER ONE I START DREAMS WITH MY GRANDMOTHER, WHO I NEVER KNEW BUT THE BEAUTIFUL THING IS THAT I WOKE UP BECUASE I FELT A SOFT HAND TOUCHING. LIKE MY MOTHER WANTS YOU TO GO TO SLEEP SO SHE TAKES HER HAND AND GENTLY PAST OVER MY FACE, SO I FELT THAT WHEN I OPEN MY EYES I SAW MY GRANDMOTHER FACE BESIDE MY BED, SHE WAS SMILING. THAT IS FOR TO NOW THEY WILL ALWAYS WILL BE WACTHING FOR US AND PROTECTING US        
It was a school disco in 2006. It was the christmas disco. I was messing around with my friends Rebecca and Danyell, we were having fun. I asked them if I could take a picture of them, they said yes so I did. It was I went home about an hour after I took a picture of them. I went home and when I went in to school the week after my friend, Danyell said have you still got the picture of me and Rebecca I said yes I went home with my nan. I looked at my phone going threw all my pictures and I looked at the one of my friends Danyell and Rebecca and there was something in the corner so I looked carefully. i was kind of freaked out because im only 10. I told my nan and she said it was a ghost. I also told my mum dad and everybody else. my dad was sitting with his mum sisters and friends and they said it was a ghost and when my mum used to go to my school she said everybody said the school was haunted and I will probably never know what happened there.
There is a legend about 2 ghosts at my school. One is an old janitor who died and haunts the vent in the boys bathroom. The other is a girl called Bloody Mary who died in the girls bathroom. No one knows how they died. Today at school I went in the boys room and I heard footsteps above me. Then I heard what sounded like a hammer knocking on the pipes. I looked up and saw a crescent shaped red scratch on the ceiling. I ran out as fast as possible! Later that day I saw a creepy hand with claws reach around the corner. I ran back to my classroom and told my friends. My friends said that they saw the (ghostly) janitor walking in the halls and then he just disappeared. We saw the crescent shaped scratch again on the wall at lunch but it was shiney and silver now. One of my friends closed his eyes and saw a vision of a girl sitting on a tree stump playing a flute. He said that he heard the flute again later that day. Everything has been back to normal since then.
about 8:45 i was with my friend. i saw this girl about near the end of the street. i got my bike then got to about near were she was at then she turned into mist. later when i went back to my house i saw her agian.
One day, it was a foggy day up in ol' mcgowen creek. It was an old logging road, with a lot of ghost stories from the early 1930's. But there was one in particular that had me shaking in my boots. It was a story of a logger named Rustin Parr, with two r's. This man was one of the best loggers in Oregon history. But one day he met an awful fate. He and his partner were falling a giant tree, when his parters axe slipped from his sweaty plams and completely decapitated good old Rustin Parr. Now legend has it that the ghost of Rustin lives up near Mcgowen Creek, and my friends and I decided to check it out. So we packed our things and headed out. When we arrived it was cloudy and foggy. We began searching for a tree of our own to fall. We found a tree not too big, but just the right size. We were falling this tree because the legend says that anyone that attempts to cut down a tree in his forest will meet the same fate he did. At the first swing of the axe, we heard a sound. On the second swing, we saw him, coming towards us. He sprinted towards us, axe raised above his shoulders where his head should be, ready to take our heads as payment for taking a tree in his woods. At the sight of him we began to run. We ran and ran and ran until we were lost. We stayed the night in the woods, ever watchful for the terrible spirit that is Rustin Parr. Around midnight he came and took one of our firends. We could here his screams throuout the night as Rustin tortured him. Needless to say we left as fast as possible after that.
In the past several years I have had two surgeries.  While recooperating both times, I have witnessed a young girl standing in a corner and once peeking from behind a curtain.  I know she was there to comfort me....so quiet, so peaceful...In my heart I know this was the spirit of my mother as a little girl.  My mom passed away in 1992, but I have felt and seen her.  What a wonderful, warm feeling, she IS my angel.
I was in grade school with a fellow,(James) who used to draw very well, even at a young age (7yrs). He frequently drew pictures in pencil of an elderly gentleman in a white suit and Panama hat. I saw several of the pictures because I sat next to him in class. At about age 14, James became unstable and had a nervous breakdown. He attemped suicide, stabbing himself and nearly jumped off the roof of his house. He claimed he was being tormented by a ghost, which was dismissed as hysteria. He was institutionalized and had drug problems for years afterward. Five years later, I met a woman whose older sister (Terry) told me she used to see a ghost when she was a little girl. She said she used to see an old man in a white suit and a hat walking in the hallway and down the stairs of her house. Her mother corroberated the claim and even agreed that she and others in the house would often hear unidentified noises but no one else ever saw anything except Terry. Through the course of the conversation, I discovered that Terry's and James' families had lived in the house on Anchor St. in NE Philadelphia! Terry lived there several years before James and the families had never known one another... Yet members of both claimed to see the same character... When I described the old gentleman from James drawings to Terry she was visibly upset... He sounded just like the figure she saw as a little girl.  
My daughter, Emma, stayed with a neighbor’s family in the Czech Republic this summer.  I joined her there for 2 weeks in August.  While there, she slept in a back bedroom and I asked her how she was sleeping.  “Well, the first week I was here, I kept waking up and feeling as if someone was in the room with me, watching me, but I attributed it to jet lag,” she told me.  She said the person in the room was an older man with glasses and a grey beard, wearing striped pajamas.  I asked her if she was frightened by this and she said that she felt like this guy was at first checking out who she was and on later nights, just watching over her.  She said she found his presence “comforting.”  When we later told this to our hosts, they gasped and said that Emma’s description of the man in the room exactly matched what the grandmother’s dead husband had looked like.  Then they told us that this guy had either fallen or jumped to his death from the window in Emma’s bedroom 20 years earlier.  He was wearing striped pajamas when he died.  The grandmother told us that, since his death, she didn’t like going in the room after dark.  The family dug up some photos of the old man and when Emma saw them, she said, “That’s him!  That’s the guy who was watching over me.”
While a Mormon missionary in Long Island, I stopped by a family's home one evening to introduce them to the new missionary who had just arrived to work with me.  The mother and daughter we were visiting were always very warm and welcoming-hospitality is a very important part of their culture.  That night the daughter answered the door, but the mother was nowhere in sight, which was odd.  Once we came in and sat down, the mother wandered out from the back of the house and acknowledged us coldly.  We stayed for only a few minutes, as both of us were very uncomfortable.  Once we left, I turned to my friend and apologized.  "I don't understand what could have happened," I told her.  "They used to be so glad to see us."  We walked down the street toward our car, and I noticed that the night was peculiarly silent--almost oppressively so.  Everything seemed to glow with a weird light, and the clouds were so low and dark in the sky that it felt almost like we were suffocating.  We got in the car to visit another family, and suddenly my friend began to cry.  She was terrified, but couldn't say why.  I tried to comfort her, acknowledging that Long Island was a lot lonelier and darker than the city she was used to, but that we were all right and there was nothing to worry about.  She continued to look around her with fear and begged me to turn the car around and go home.  Seeing how frightened she was, I agreed and we went home early.  While I wasn't sure what had scared her, a strange feeling stayed with me for the next few days.  I finally  asked her if something seemed amiss and tried to explain how I felt.  "It's like...I don't know...like someone is right behind us all the time, but when I look, no one is there."  I thought I sounded silly-until she told me she had had that same feeling ever since that night.  I'll never know what happened that night, or what it was we felt.  We never saw the mother or daughter again.
My stepdad had a grandmother, Beth, whom he loved very much and who passed away when he was in his twenties.  His mom, Mickey, kept Grandma Beth's favorite chair in her home as a momento, and cousins, nieces, and nephews loved to sit on the chair when they came to visit.  My stepdad eventually inherited the chair, and he told me a story about it: during a family visit, a cousin came up to his mom and asked, "Who is Beth?"  She had no idea who he was talking about and asked him what he meant.  "I want to know who Beth is," he told her.  "She came up to me when I was sitting in that chair and said to tell you that everything was all right."  The story touched my heart, as I knew how much Grandma Beth must love those she left behind, but I never sat in that chair for very long.  I wasn't sure I wanted to be visited.
On Nov. 4, 2007, I was awakened by my husband who asked that I look at the wall and tell him what I saw. My husband was shining his flashlight at the wall. Immediately without hesitation I could see the image of a man there. It would not photograph with the digital camera but I was able to capture it using the night vision on my camcorder. I took it to work and my coworkers pointed out several other faces. It is still there. The image is in that flashlight. I have no fear of it but wish I knew who it was and why it came.
I HAVE BEEN READING THE GHOST STORIES . I LIVED IN HAUNTED HOUSES ALL MY LIFE . I WONDER IF I'AM NOT THE ONE WHO IS HAUNTED INSTEAD OF THE HOUSE . I HAVE READ OF PEOPLE HEARING THEIR NAMES CALLED . I HAVE HAD THAT HAPPEN TO ME MORE TIMES THAN I CAN COUNT . WHAT DOED THAT MEAN ? DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY INPUT
   GAIL
Hi, my name is Anna and I've experienced a scary thing which I think may have something to do with ghosts. In my school, there's a rumour that a lady used to live there who died there and is now a ghost which roams about our school. They call her the 'Grey lady.' Now, at first I didn't know what to believe. Some people said it was true but others said 'of course not.' So, my friends and I decided to venture out into the fields one lunchtime and try to see the place 'where she lived' and perhaps 'still does.' I saw nothing but an old-fashioned temple at first. But, a few seconds later, I saw a grey figure standing by one of the poles of the temple. All at once, I started to feel cold when it was a really warm summer's day. I don't know what all that was about but I tried to ignore it.
Then a few days later, on a Friday afternoon, we were having our last lesson when suddenly the door opened. There was nothing there but we thought nothing of it. We carried on with our lesson but a few seconds later the door closed by itself. It happened a few times and my friend, Sarah, shouted out 'There's a ghost in the room.' Up to today, I still think about it. I don't think it could have been a draft because all the windows and other doors were shut. What do you think it was?
On January 12th, I went to bed and around 11:30, I woke up and felt as if someone was watching me through my window. I have never been scared or paranoid, so it was a very strange feeling to me. The feeling was not as though they were on the ground, but higher up...it nagged me all night long. At 10:00 Sunday morning, we found my Dad in his floor, dead. They said that he had died the night before. He lived next to me....could this have been him checking on me before he left???? Something I have thought about constantly for the last week and a half.....
when me and my sister were 8 (me) and 6 (sis) years old we in the middle of the night heard a baby cry . i told my sister to stop playing with baby dolls she said she wasnt we ran in our parents room . 6 years later at the ages 12 and 10 we heard the same voice cry mama but it was now older.


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