Big Bearded ManSeptember 3, 2011
When my dad was in his early teens his family invited his uncle (his father’s brother) to come stay with them while the uncle was looking for a job and until he could find his own place. One day my grandparents sent my dad downstairs to the spare bedroom to make sure his uncle was up in time for his new job, and my dad found him unresponsive, wrapped up in the sheets on the floor next to the bed. Turns out he had a heart attack in the night and died while they were all sleeping.
A couple months later, some family from my grandmother’s side are visiting and hanging out in the basement and one of the younger kids (5 or 6 years old) wanders off by herself into the spare bedroom. Suddenly she starts screaming bloody murder so everyone rushes in to see what’s wrong. The girl is pointing to the corner of the room where my dad found his uncle screaming “There’s a man! There’s a man!” No one else sees anything, and the girls insists for a while that there is a big, bearded man lying on the floor of the room until they look under the bed and in the closet, reassure her there’s no one there, and take her out and calm her down. My father’s uncle was a big, bearded man.
My dad tells this story all the time, to new friends whenever talk turns to the supernatural or unexplained or just to the family when he gets a few drinks in him. I believe it’s true because my dad is so earnest about it, and because I don’t think anyone who knew what had happened to my dad’s uncle would somehow convince this 6 year old girl to lie so convincingly about seeing him.