Ghost Of Uncle George Manifests
Posted by LOTGK on October 18, 2008
Everyone gather around the camp fire in the cold night air and listen to my ghost story about my Uncle George and the time he paid a visit to me. At first glance, you the reader would dismiss this story as yet another family relative get together. But did I happen to mention that my Uncle George was dead at the time he visited me? Didn’t think so.
I remember my Uncle George. He was my fathers older brother. They looked a lot like each other. (They were brothers) Every time I would see Uncle George he was always in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and tie. And he always had his hat with him. Uncle George was about six foot five inches tall and weighed in around 225 pounds. He completed his look with white hair in a sergeant Carter style buzz cut. Uncle George passed away when I was a young lad. He was buried in that blue suit.
Uncle George was always around when our family needed assistance. Always! Back then, my parents had 7 children, and sometimes, (A lot of times) money was short and mom and dad would go without to provide for us. Uncle George always seemed to show up at these times and help out. Bringing food over to fill the shelves, helping to fix the car, plumbing, windows, whatever.
Ten or eleven years later, it was 1977. Summer time. Youngstown, Ohio. I was 17 years old. The youngest of 7 children. Being that it was Summer, no one was at the house when I came home. My parents were in Warren, Ohio at Kenley Players, a sort of off Broadway stage production company. My brother Jack was married and out of the house, as well as my sister Carol. My brother George worked the late shift and my other three sisters were still out for the evening.
It was a typical evening. I parked my 68 Camaro on the front devil strip and came in the house through the back door. Flipped on the kitchen lights and went to the fridge for a cold Coke and perhaps a snack. Our dog Kelly was acting a little weird but I didn’t notice that much.
With my Coke in hand I headed into the living room where the Hi-Fi stereo system was. (In the 1970’s, a Hi-Fi system was usually encased in a wooden piece of furniture with a lid at the center to access the components.) I flipped the lid open, selected the record I wanted to listen to, and sat down on my chair and settled in.(I had the option of listening to records, 33 and 45 size, or the AM or FM radio, or an 8-Track player, or the new fancy smancy cassette player)
Since I loved listening to my records at high volume, I plugged in the headphones so the neighbors wouldn’t get upset and turned the volume up loud. After a few minutes, the pop worked its magic and I needed to go to the bathroom. I got up, put the headphones on the chair, and left the room and went to the bathroom.
When I returned from the bathroom, I noticed that the headphones were not on my chair, and the lid was closed on the Hi-Fi. Upon inspection, the headphones were inside the lid, unplugged fro the jack, and the stereo was turned off. I thought I must have put them away and turned off the system and closed the lid and just forgot that I did. No big deal. I put the headphones back on and switched the stereo system back on. There was no power. I fiddled about for a minute trying to get the power to come on.
Exhausting all possibilities, I got out my chair and went to the side of the stereo system. I noticed that the power cord was unplugged from the wall. How odd! How the hell did I do that? Not giving much more thought to it, I plugged the stereo back in and turned to sit down. Just then, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was moving!
I slowly turned completely around to face should to shoulder with the living room. I was frozen with fear. Sitting on the yellow couch was my uncle George. In his blue suit holding his hat. Uncle George turned slowly, looked at me, then got up from th couch and took several steps toward me and stopped. He was about 10 feet away from me. I just stared at him not knowing what to do. But Uncle George knew what to do.
Perhaps 10 seconds passed by, maybe less, maybe a little more. Then Uncle George looked directly at me, making eye contact, and then he spoke. He simply told me to leave the house. His exact words were, “Pat, leave the house. Get out of the house right now!” He wasn’t yelling, but his voice was stern and his expression concerned. I did what he asked me to do.
I went to the kitchen, grabbed my car keys and headed for the back door. Uncle George was blocking my path. He pointed toward the front door. What the hell was I going to do? Argue with a ghost on what door to exit the house from. I opened the front door, slammed it shut and jumped in my Camaro and drove off.
I drove to Mill Creek Park and circled the park a few times thinking about what the hell had just happened. Did I really just see my dead Uncle George? Did he really speak to me? Did he unplug the stereo? We he the reason Kelly was acting weird? Why did he want me to leave? Am I insane?
After about an hour of driving, I was calmed down and decided to head home. Coming down my street, I saw cop lights flashing. The cops were at my house! I pulled in and my mother and father were outside talking to the policemen. My mother grabbed me and hugged me when she saw me.
Apparently, someone had broken into the house through the basement windows and forced the back door open that led to the kitchen.
That night, my Uncle George appeared to me, manifested himself, or whatever, and warned me to get out of the house. He knew there was a burglar in the house and if I was to stay, who knows what would have happened.
It dawned on me later that evening why he was blocking the back door forcing me to leave through the front door. I would have come face to face with the burglar at the back door.
That was the first time I saw my Uncle George after his funeral. But it wouldn’t be the last. He appeared several more times in my life all during critical times. For lack of a better term, he was my Guardian Angel.
Happy Halloween – Samhain
LURKING IN THE SHADOWS ON THE GRASSY KNOLL