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I was 6 years old when I saw my first ghost or spirit. I was riding my bike around in the basement of the house that we lived in which my father had built in 1961. I am an only child so I was very comfortable roaming around alone and finding things to do. My point here is even at 6 years old I did not frighten easily. I was riding around the length of the basement several times, on my last pass around I looked up and saw a man sitting on this stone and brick seating area my father built square in the middle of the basement. I was not frightened just shocked, he was sitting with his arms and elbows resting on his knees hunched over. He was wearing old bib overalls and a red and black checked flannel shirt and old worn work boots. His head and face seemed to be badly scarred as if he had been burned. I sat there for a minute looking at him and he finally looked up at me, it was almost like he did not know I was there, he stared straight at me and this look of anger came over his face and he said "Come here little girl".

Well that's when I became hysterical, covering my eyes and screaming for my dad. I finally got the courage to look and he was gone. I ran to my dad in the other end of the house screaming "Daddy there is a man in the house". Well he looked and looked; all windows and doors were as they should be. Dad chalked it up to imagination as did my mother. But my beloved grandmother (my mom’s mother) listened intently when I told her about the man. She told me very sternly "If you ever see him again run, he is a bad man". I never questioned it further I just obeyed because grandma's word was law.

Years later when I was about 17 my mother and I were going through my grandmothers house to clean things after her death. I found a photo of a man and woman in farm clothing from what looked like the 1800's. I instantly recognized the man in the photo as the man in the basement when I was 6. I ran to my mom and said “this is him, the man I seen when I was 6 and nobody except grandma believed me.”

My mother said he was her grandfather, her mother’s father, and that he was not a nice man. He was very abusive and my grandmother never liked to speak of him. My mother continued to tell me that both he and my great grandmother (the lady in the picture) died when their house caught fire while the children were at school one day. My grandma and her bother were sent to live with their aunt. Needless to say I was pretty creeped out that the man I saw was scarred from what looked like burns and was very angry that I was in his space.

I have never seen him again to this day. Since then I have seen a lot of paranormal activity that I cannot explain. I sometimes enjoy the experiences and sometimes not so much. God has seen fit to give me a great gift for a reason even if I do not always understand it. I feel very blessed. Thanks for listening. It’s nice to have a forum where people actually are interested in your experiences versus freaked out by them.