[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Thursday, May 31st, 2007|
important update (re: haints)
My stepdad grew up in Bedford, Indiana, which is known as the limestone capital of the world
. We recently paid a visit to the town to attend a funeral, and my stepdad told me a very interesting story.
Evidently, he had taken his (now ex) wife and their little sons to the local cemetery for a picnic one sunny day. As the others busied themselves setting up the food, stepdad took a short walk up to the top of a hill overlooking the cemetery grounds. There, he found an old man who was also taking in the view.
The old man greeted him and struck up a conversation, then began explaining that most of the old graves with the worn, unreadable headstones belonged to the stonecutters who played such a integral part in the founding and early economy of the town. He also pointed out that many of these blue-collar workers were immigrants, and that they would send most of their pay back overseas to support their families. If one of the workers got sick or had an accident in the quarries and died, the rest would pool their money and continue sending it to their friend's loved ones, and would spend their precious off-the-clock time carving crude grave markers out of scrap limestone for their fallen colleagues.
"The stonecutters gave so much to make this town what it is now," the old man said. "The stonecutters must not be forgotten."
Stepdad agreed, thanked him for the interesting information and reached to shake the old man's hand, but paused to look over his shoulder when he heard his sons yelling and playing in the distance. When he turned back, the old man was gone
. From his position on the hill he could see the entire cemetery, but the old man was nowhere to be found.
Shaking, he returned to his family. They ate their lunch, left the cemetery, and returned with bunches of carnations - one for each illegible gravestone in the old, overgrown section of the graveyard.
NOW UPDATE WITH SOME HAINT STORIES, PEOPLE Current Mood: awed
|Monday, May 29th, 2006|
|Tuesday, March 1st, 2005|
Here is a HAINT story my brother told me once
This is it, as best as I can remember (I was four at the time, so bear with me.)
So back before my mom and my brother moved up to Alaska, they lived in Virginia. Supposedly, one Halloween night when my brother was a kid, mom took him to this Halloween party. There were lots of kids and adults there, including his best friend at the time. He and his friend had just gotten some baby 7UPs (you know, those little 8oz. 7UPs that were around during the late 70s/early 80s) from the snack table, and were discussing scary Halloween things like ghosts. My brother's friend asked him if he had ever seen a ghost. My brother said no. His friend claimed that he HAD seen ghosts before, and said he would show my brother A REAL GHOST. So they snuck out of the party and ran all the way to this old civil war battlefield, where there was the remains of an old fortress.
They went inside the fortress just as midnight was approaching, and my brother was SHOCKED at what he saw. There was an army of GHOSTLY HAINTS marching up the ruined stairs of the fortress! They looked like skeletons, and their uniforms hung in tatters! They were taking up positions at gunning stations and firing ghostly mortars at their ghostly enemies! My brother was so shocked, HE DROPPED THE 7UP HE WAS DRINKING!
Anyway, this story had me peeding my wee pants with terror until my mom reminded me that she and my brother had moved away from Virginia when he was just a tyke himself, and she had never been to any such Halloween party.
But still, HAINTS!!!! Current Mood: hainting
Once, a long time ago, I lived in an apartment on the first floor of a shotgun house in the ghetto. Ghetto, as in my neighbor was a crack dealer, my landlord sold weed, my car was broken into, and people were routinely arrested on the street outside my living room window.
To make matters worse, the place had a HAINT. You could sit in the living room and watch as the kitchen door unlocked. You could get up, lock the door, go sit back down and watch it unlock all over again. Occasionally, a sound not unlike a basketball bouncing on concrete would come from the basement. And sometimes, you could be sitting there minding your own business and be immediately overcome with the smell of roses, which would disappear as suddenly as it arrived.
There was a rumor about the house 2 doors over. It was a giant hulking monstrosity of a place, totally out of keeping with the narrow shacks surrounding it. It had been abandoned ever since I could remember. According to the next-door-neighbors (a scientist of all things, and his obese wife), a man lived there dozens of years ago with his family - his wife and their baby. He would leave and go on "business trips" often. Eventually someone must have become alarmed because the wife hadn't left the house in weeks, so the police were called. They found a dungeon in the basement of that house, where the man would torture and kill homeless people that he found during his many "business trips." Bodies were buried in the basement's dirt floor. The wife had apparently managed to remain ignorant about the goings-on in the basement. For a while at least. She didn't last long once she found out. Neither did the baby.
I've never been able to find any information to prove or disprove that story. Current Mood: thoughtful
|Sunday, August 15th, 2004|
a GIS for haint brings up this supposedly funny picture of a haunted sofa:
haint information is few and far between, hence the creation of HAINTS!
i know what jumbies are! ask me! Current Mood: scared