www.byzcath.org Forums General Discussions Town Hall Ghosts And The Supernatural

Dear Pavel,

I always have a bottle of holy water on hand!

And my show will air on Monday, June 12th, at 11:00 pm on the Women's Network, Channel 27 up here.

Alex

Hi,

Now that you mention it... But no, the blender at my parents' house was almost never used to prepare any alcoholic cocktail.

My mom is extremely allergic to alcohol, even cough syrup puts her in bed with joint pain.

My dad has been a cardiac patient for some time and even before, his alcohol comsumption was rather limited and when it happened, he usually had his "spirits" straight or simply mixed with cola.

But yours is an insterting idea, I think we're going to have to research it more in-depth this weekend. Care to join us?

Shalom,
Memo

I lived at Trinity College (Oxford) for awhile when I was taking some literature and history courses. Allegedly, the chapel was haunted. By a monk. Never saw him. No one I know saw him. I was just as happy that way.

My friend went to Keble College up the road apiece and allegedly there was a room in a staircase so haunted that the students could not sleep and they ended up calling in an exorcism.

They were also excavating an old church and people were claiming to see all sorts of ghosts. Not an uncommon claim, since people often were buried under floorboards. I was curious about the work, but never saw anything supernatural to report. The scaffolding was fascinating.

However, I was once startled in a house rented by my friends and my then-fiancee (now husband) by a guy in a white button down shirt who seemed to have come up the stairs and walked by. I thought I was the only one up there - I went up to wash my hands in the bathroom. I figured someone had come up to get something out of the other bathroom or out of his room, but then I realized no one was up there. So I went back downstairs and further realized that everyone was still sitting around the table and no one was wearing a white button down shirt. I asked if anyone had been upstairs. One roommate who was kind of like Bill or Ted in his demeanor(of "Excellent Adventure" fame) said, "uh oh, white shirt guy must be back!" He claimed to have seen "white shirt guy" in the basement, in the boiler room, on the stairs and in his room before. Everyone else looked at him like he was insane. I still have no idea; I'm sure I THOUGHT I saw someone, but it doesn't mean they were really there, either. It's not like I hallucinate, nor do I drink or do drugs, but it was a hot day and maybe the heat got to me. I never saw "white shirt guy" again, allegedly one other person did - after the house was blessed. (My one friend had the house blessed. He figured it couldn't hurt. And he didn't like the idea of someone living there who was not paying rent!)

Dear Annie,

There's nothing some holy water can't deal with!

And now I bless the house BEFORE the renovation begins . . .

No more "spirited repairs!"

I've learned to see right through all that . . .

Alex

I don't know if I told this one before. Actually I thought I did, but a can't find it so I will repeat it.

I had a grand-aunt, who was quite devout. Well the story goes, that at night she would hear rocks and boulders being thrown at the roof of her house. She also heard whispers in her key hole saying, "I will take you"... yet in the morning, the house was fine. No one had touched it.

The poor woman had to remain in the house because there was someone else that was laying claim to it, so she begged my grandmother, (who was fearless) to sleep with her. Well, my grandmother decided to go, and said she couldn't sleep all night because of the commotion. She was petrified. Yikes!

The noises stopped, but later under the Nazi occupation they started again. Evil times I guess! Of course the possibility exists that a 'spell' might have been placed on the house by the person that wanted to claim it. I also read once that St. John Vianney the Cure of Ars had exactly the same experiences ...rocks thrown on the roof, and whispers in the key hole.

I wonder if my grand-aunt is a saint? Pity, I never met her.

Zenovia