Spiritualism Memory
This was told to me by my grandfather. He had mentioned that his great aunt Edythe was a "spiritualist." I took this to mean that she was a psychic of sorts. My grandfather is from South Carolina and he grew up very poor. He, his parents, and his six brothers lived in a worn down old shack in the middle of the woods. The layout of the house consisted of a small kitchen area, a tiny den, and a small loft up above the children's sleeping area.
They didn't have rugs and my grandfather said that they could see straight down into the kitchen through the cracks of the floorboards.
One night, his parents and brothers were out and his great aunt Edyth and Uncle Doo came to stay at the house. He had fallen asleep in the loft but was awakened by the sound of a fiddle playing. He peered down through the floorboards and saw his great uncle playing his fiddle rigorously as if he were in a rage. That's when he saw his aunt put her hands on the table-top and began speaking in what he calls, "tongues."
As he watched, she suddenly stopped chanting and raised her head, with her eyes closed and says, "Yes, Thomas, what is it that you tell me to do tonight?" My grandfather didn't know anybody named Thomas, but he instinctively knew that whatever was going on below him wasn't good.
Soon, a vibration seemed to wrack the house -- my grandfather said it felt like an earthquake. There began a strange wailing. My granfather realized with horror that the wailing sound was coming from the kitchen, directly below him, NOT outside.
As he watched, the table beneath his great aunt's hands began to wobble back and forth and seemed to rock almost in tune with the fiddle and the ghastly wails. He said he thought, "This is it! I'm out of here!" He bolted out of bed, down the stairs, past his aunt and uncle, and out into the night.
He said he didn't stop running until he got to his neighbor's house where he stayed and refused to come home for three days. My grandpa is a very sensible man and certainly would never make up a story like this.
Also, he and grandma have other weird stories that have happened to them while growing up in the backwoods of this country, but I will save those for another time.
Previous story | Next story
Back to index
They didn't have rugs and my grandfather said that they could see straight down into the kitchen through the cracks of the floorboards.
One night, his parents and brothers were out and his great aunt Edyth and Uncle Doo came to stay at the house. He had fallen asleep in the loft but was awakened by the sound of a fiddle playing. He peered down through the floorboards and saw his great uncle playing his fiddle rigorously as if he were in a rage. That's when he saw his aunt put her hands on the table-top and began speaking in what he calls, "tongues."
As he watched, she suddenly stopped chanting and raised her head, with her eyes closed and says, "Yes, Thomas, what is it that you tell me to do tonight?" My grandfather didn't know anybody named Thomas, but he instinctively knew that whatever was going on below him wasn't good.
Soon, a vibration seemed to wrack the house -- my grandfather said it felt like an earthquake. There began a strange wailing. My granfather realized with horror that the wailing sound was coming from the kitchen, directly below him, NOT outside.
As he watched, the table beneath his great aunt's hands began to wobble back and forth and seemed to rock almost in tune with the fiddle and the ghastly wails. He said he thought, "This is it! I'm out of here!" He bolted out of bed, down the stairs, past his aunt and uncle, and out into the night.
He said he didn't stop running until he got to his neighbor's house where he stayed and refused to come home for three days. My grandpa is a very sensible man and certainly would never make up a story like this.
Also, he and grandma have other weird stories that have happened to them while growing up in the backwoods of this country, but I will save those for another time.
Previous story | Next story
Back to index
