Do you remember the excitement of shopping for your first home?
You got married. Then came the babies. You need more space. It was time for me to look for my first home.
My head was in the clouds- the year was 1981- I was living in Miami, Florida; and my husband and I had looked a good two weeks, when we saw the listing.
This home was a find! Reasonably priced at just $150,000, in one of Miami's trendiest areas: Granada Boulevard. It was a grand, stately Spanish two story built in the 1920's.
It had a carriage house, and a detached, two car garage. It had just been remodeled by an independent contractor and just come on the market.
The home was stucco-all white, with a black, wrought iron fence. and was nicely landscaped and manicured. It had a mystical curb side appeal.
As I walked up to the front door, the contractor introduced himself to us, and began rattling off all the upgrades. I had walked maybe two or three steps into the house and found myself facing the fireplace.
I felt a ice cold chill as my eyes fixated on the area. It was beautifully tiled and meticulously finished. Everything looked lovely. But I had an uneasy feeling. I turned around and took two or three more steps to my right, I was now facing the kitchen area.
My knees began to shake violently. I have never had such a feeling before. It mimicked the feeling one has when you've just ridden on a roller-coaster.
Then, I noticed in certain spots, an intense icey cold chill. My eyes focused on the stainless steel kitchen, a double oven, with with Spanish tiling. Why was I feeling so shook up? The chatter went on between my husband and the contractor, neither one seemed to notice my discomfort.
The contractor highlighted all the special detail put into the design. We followed him around the the first floor bedroom, and then onto the stairwell. It was there that it hit me.
Something was in this house. Someone was watching me.
The moment I started to climb the stairs I felt the cold come back. I felt these cold bursts of air in three places, the fireplace; kitchen; and stairwell. The temperature in other areas of the home seemed normal, but in those areas, it was bitter cold.
At this point, I was hesitant to make the assent up the stairs. My husband didn't even notice, because he was totally enthralled with the home. The upstairs hallway felt sad, really, really, sad.
It was a deathly feeling, everything felt forlorn.. When we opened the door to one of the upstairs bedrooms, the feeling intensified. I waited to get my husband alone to ask him if he felt anything.
We were now approaching the second upstairs bedroom. It had a veranda outside of it. I couldn't get to the outside door fast enough, I opened it and ran out to the wall on the veranda facing the street. My husband was going on and on about how he loved the house.
"You don't feel anything?" I asked, raising my voice. "What are you talking about?" he replied, half annoyed. "There is something in this house!" I went on to tell him about my experiences around the fireplace, kitchen and stairwell. He dismissed it all, telling me this was a beautiful house, and that I didn't appreciate the beauty.
I was angry. I left him on the veranda, and hurried down the stairs, into the car. I didn't even have a look at the Carriage House or the garage. I was too upset to stay in it any longer.
When my husband got back to the car, he started the engine and we didn't talk for about 20 minutes. When he did begin to speak, his speech became racy, and he began to plead with me to buy the house.
I told him that I NEVER could live there, I had the most horrible feeling. He wasn't giving up anytime soon! He put the flyer next to his bed. For two days buying the house was the only thing he discussed. On the second evening, we were in bed, my infant son was fast asleep on a balmy, Florida evening.
There wasn't a breeze outside, and our sliding doors were slightly ajar. Suddenly, we were awakened by a booming, shaking sound. The sliding glass doors looked like an earthquake had hit them. We both screamed. It was the most frightening feeling. After about ten seconds, it all stopped. It was very strange.
I shared the story with my neighbor the next day, and she told me she saw an orb of light on our terrace that evening, and thought it strange. Exactly in front of the sliding glass doors adjacent to our bedroom.
My marriage was never the same after that experience. Our happiness melted away as did our marriage. I swore all the events were connected to that house. I believe an evil entity possessed my husband.
I did some research about the house, and found out the the original founders of General Electric lived there, and there were some deaths or trauma associated with the home.
Want to know something else...even the address of the home was creepy.
At the time, I worked with a radio production person who was psychic. He told me that I was picking up on something that was GOING to happen at the house.
I never did find out the exact details or history on that house. However, 30 years have passed, and I haven't forgotten that horrible feeling or one detail about that experience.
I worked in Real Estate for over eight years in Colorado, and never once did I enter, show, or sell a home in which I had a similar feeling.
And I pray it doesn't ever happen again.
