Volume 11, Issue 1, page 5

HE HOUSE is haunted. That is an established fact, altho there is no
known reason for it being so. I
spent a full week in the house. I
was scared, and don't mind admitting it. I'd be a liar if I tried
to say I wasn't.

About six miles north of Niceville,
Fla., is a tiny settlement called Villa
Tasso. It is located less than a mile
'962/c5ea'?,ei
When They Shook My Bed"
south of Highway 20, and less than a
stone's throw from Choctawhatchee Bay. To
the north of Highway 20 is the large and
noisy Eglin Air Base, with all the hustle
and bustle of modern air craft. Not the
popular concept of a ghost's hangout, altho both sides of Highway 20 are wooded.

Choctawhatchee Bay was quiet and calm
the night I arrived to visit Mr. and Mrs.
Harry Wagner, who have a home in Villa
Tasso. An occasional white-cap died in
sputtering foam along the shore. A whimsical moon lighted the path of barges
traveling from one shore to the other as
I sat on the porch in peaceful solitude.

Suddenly there was a rattling upstairs.
I don't know how long I sat there listening, thinking squirrels were dropping
nuts on the housetop. Finally it penetrated my lulled senses that squirrels are
not a night-foraging animal.

Still,"spooks " were furthest from my
mind, and I gave the trees the credit for
making the noises.

The house belongs to an acquaintance
of the friends I was visiting. It is
sturdy and well-built. Formerly a large
one-room-and-bath affair, to it had been
added a kitchenette on the ground floor,
a bedroom over the kitchenette, and a
small cellar beneath it.

Everything was quiet when I first went
to bed, but toward morning, I awoke in a
listening attitude. Someone was walking
about upstairs. Drawers in the chest
opened and closed. The bedsprings squeaked in protest and someone started coming
down the steps.

Certain that Harry was getting equipment for early fishing, I rolled over on
the daybed and lit a cigaret. The footsteps stopped. So did my heart, because
in that instant I realized I was sharing
quarters with a 100 percent bona fide
ghost.

The experience of a haunted house was
something I'd always wanted, but now that
I unexpectedly found myself in that position, I was unprepared.

The following night, which was Friday,
gave the same manifestation. So did Saturday and Sunday night. By that time I
had accepted the conditions and was excited with the prospects of furthering my
education in this particular phase of
phenomena. Footsteps would walk back and
forth across the bedroom floor; drawers
would open and close; bedsprings would
creak, followed by someone going down the
steps.

Entities don't seem to mind if lights
are on or off. Not wanting to miss the
slightest move, in case something did
move Monday night, I turned on every light
in the house. Taking a notebook and pencil, I sat on the top step where I could
see the whole interior of the bedroom.

Nothing moved. Yet I could hear the
drawers open and close as well as all the
other sounds. The footsteps passed me and
stopped just short of the bottom of the
stairs as they previously had.

Tuesday I talked with Harry, explaining what I had heard and done. He admitted that the noises had been heard by two
of his closest relatives, yet had not
been heard by others.

We decided since no one had died or
been murdered in the house, that in all
likelihood it was the astral of the owner.