FootstepsJune 14, 2011
My father used to live in a three-story condominium. The bottom level was basically a single room which we used for a TV room / play room. The room had one window which looked out to a light shaft because the room was below ground.
The condo had an intercom system: There were speakers in the wall in several places around the house, and you could press a button to talk and be heard in all the speakers throughout the house. We didn’t use it a lot, but occasionally my brother and I would be called to come to dinner, or if my dad needed something. Sometimes we would press down the button on the intercom and speak a reply. Every now and then I would press down the button to reply and inadvertently the button would snap down and stay down, so that the sound of the TV and the rest of the TV room noise could be heard throughout the house by way of the intercom speakers.
I was about 16 and it was a typical late evening with me watching TV in the bottom room alone until 2 or 3am. I was the last one up; everyone else was sleeping in the bedrooms on the top level. I got up off of the couch, turned off the TV, the light and walked the stairs up to the top floor, to the room that I shared with my brother.
As I got to the top floor and passed the intercom speaker that was mounted on the wall outside of the bedroom, I heard a noise in the speaker. I stopped and slowly turned the knob to boost the volume. Very clearly, in the intercom speaker, I heard the sound of footsteps. Shoes walking across a hard surface, unmistakeable, like you would hear on a sound effects tape. I realized that I must have left the intercom in the “on” position in the TV room, and that the footsteps were coming from there.
I ran to get my father from his bedroom down the hall. He came out in his bathrobe and I pulled him to the intercom speaker. Footsteps. He ran down the stairs yelling “Who’s there! Who’s there!” We went down there and turned on the light. Of course no one was there. I popped the intercom button back up so that it stopped transmitting sound from that room.
My dad is a hardcore skeptic. He thinks that people who would even consider that spirits might exist must be insane. I remind him about that night, how he ran down the stairs yelling after hearing footsteps in the intercom. He says he doesn’t remember.