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The 70s Mystery Mansion

May 11, 2011

My wife and I are very rational people; we’re the kind of people who, upon hearing a strange noise, would likely go toward it instead of away from it, to figure out what it was (all while the audience screams “no, you idiots!”, just before we lose our heads to a chainsaw wielding maniac)…

Even so, we have experienced some strange things during our times together.

Oh, sure, most can be explained as something “normal”; brakes fail on cars all the time, and come rolling at you down inclines; strange “fires” seen on the mountainside that no one reports on the news anywhere; a crazy one-legged man seen in the glare of your headlights, kicking his way down the road in his wheelchair, grinning like a maniac…

Or how about that time when we lived in a house we called “The 70’s Mystery Mansion”, which was owned by my brother-in-law’s parents; we’d have lamps and other lights turn themselves on and off occasionally; I would blame the dodgy wiring, or maybe a funky switch – as far as any of us knew nothing dodgy or strange happened in the house, but this was out on the edge of Phoenix; maybe the house was built on an old indian grave? Right…

When we were looking to buy our first house, we toured this one house that to this day I am not sure what exactly we experienced. On the outside, it was a pretty normal ranch-style home (we toured older houses, as they were in our price range, and we didn’t want an HOA), but inside was a lot of strangeness. Things didn’t “feel” right inside, the owner and his brother were odd ducks, and when we went down the hallway to check out the bedrooms, it felt like the hallway grew, and that it was longer than it looked, and everything felt off balance (the closest real experience I can compare it to is how a plane feels when you are in the very back row as it takes off down the runway, lifts off, turns, rolls, etc – how “gravity” feels like it is behind you due to the acceleration, and the tube of the plane twists and such as you look down the aisle); something like the hallway scenes in the original “The Shining” movie.

Then there is the drink mixer that randomly turned on in our kitchen; a mixer my mom owned but never used. She passed away at the end of this past July, after a long and futile “battle” with growing dementia, alzheimers, and who knows what else (the doctors told us she was fine, but she had very severe edema; we’re almost positive she had congestive heart failure of some sort, but we could never get her to take the tests for that – she probably would have died trying them if she had). Toward the end, she would keep my wife and I up all night chanting – one time she chanted for 14 hours straight; this was even after hospice had given her enough demerol and morphine to stop a elephant. The chanting was a pleading of some sort; we’re not sure if she was wanting to die, or not wanting to die – she looked at us as if we were nothing, there wasn’t much if any comprehension behind those eyes, toward the end.

If there were going to be any hauntings in this house, one would think it would be from her. Based on what we could gather before and after the fact, she honestly thought she wasn’t going to die. Her mind was going long before she came to stay with us; with found tons of example of gibberish writing on envelopes and pieces of paper; hundreds of times she would write her name down, or her address or phone number, or little notes that would say something like “this is what I have so I can tell”…

Maybe she wanted to use the mixer…?

/personally thinks it was just a cheap and faulty switch.
//it does make pretty good milkshakes, though!

– Posted by cr0sh; Fark

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