A look at the paranormal from a professional amateur.

Vicksburg

Letitia’s House

When I was a child I lived in Vicksburg, Mississippi. My grandmother lived in a large, old house on the corner of Clay St. On the opposite corner there was another old house. This one was older, one story with a basement, and surrounded by an iron fence. This house had belonged to my Great Aunt Letitia. She’d died sometime in the late 1960’s and my step-grandfather being who he was refused to rent it or sell it. It sat there locked with everything left exactly as it had been the day Letitia died. Occasionally he and my mother would go in to make sure everything was in order and that no one had broken in. It never had been. It was a different time. The electricity, gas, and water had been turned off for decades. Growing up in the 80’s I knew all this.

An Old House

Grandmother’s House

On rare occasions when my mother and grandmother were getting along I’d spend the night in her house. I’d stay in the big bedroom at the front of the house, just off the main hallway, on the side away from Clay Street. It had high ceilings and a feel of age I can only describe as oppressive. I’d lay there staring up at a hundred year old chandelier and try to sleep as the the traffic light outside shone red and green through the window all night. It wasn’t conducive to rest. At some point in the night I’d wake up and wander the house while everyone slept. The furniture was all vintage. I don’t think there was anything newer than the 1960’s in that house. The TV had a remote that made a massive “CLONK!” when you pressed a button so TV was out of the question. I’d just look at things. After a while I’d look out the window facing Clay St. and stare at the massive house across from me.

Visions of the Past

I brought up the situation in the house earlier because it comes up now. As I said, I knew the history of the house. I knew who’d lived there. I knew there were no utilities and the doors were locked and that no one ever went in there. I’d look out that window and see a lamp turn on in the bedroom window and watch as the silhouette of Great Aunt Letitia would go about her nightly routine before bed, then she’d turn out the light. I’d go back and lay down and pray to God I could fall asleep for the remainder of the night. It still stands there today and houses a law firm. I sometimes wonder what goes on there in the wee hours of the morning and if the lawyers ever find things out of place. . . 

About the Author

Professional amateur questing into the unknown and the unknowable.

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