Kit's Myths and Mysteries

A real and true Ghost Story

Kit Crumb

Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.

0:00 | 6:05

This story came to me from a woman who had been listening to this podcast. She told me she did not believe in ghosts and had never experienced anything paranormal until this event.

SPEAKER_00

Welcome to Kitts Myths and Mysteries, listened to in all 50 states and 39 countries. Stories from a world you thought you knew. Finding a ghost story can be as easy as going to the library or bookstore. But the ghost story you're about to hear came to me from an individual with what I can only call a real life experience. I had to write up the experience, so what you'll be hearing is in first person. My only contribution to the tale is traditional editing I found necessary. Otherwise the words that make up this story are all the authors, who's assured me they are all true. As follows My name is Ellen Richmond, and up until the time of this incident I didn't believe in ghosts, nor have I ever experienced a paranormal event of any kind. The room for the seance was small, behind and attached to a store that sold all things Wicca. The curtains were pulled shut on the only two windows, but only partly blocked out the light. In the middle of the room was a round table and six chairs. One was more like a throne where the medium sat. We were instructed to hold hands. There were no candles or incense. The room was bare except for the table and chairs. We five were childhood friends on the verge of college. We'd lost one recently, Billy had drowned. We'd pooled our money and sought out Madame Hester. She reminded me of my grandmother, and wore a face of a thousand lives, with no attempt to hide wrinkles, silver hair tied back. She spoke with a smoker's voice. We were instructed to remain silent until contact was made, at which time each of us could ask one question, beginning with me and moving clockwise. She made it clear, however, to ask a simple question. Madame Hester, unlike a TV medium, didn't chant or roll her head from side to side, and when she made contact, she didn't nod. The only indication of contact was when she spoke, and it was Billy's voice. We all exchanged looks of amazement. What is your question, Ellen? When Billy's voice spoke my name, I felt lightheaded, but managed to ask, What was your favorite form of transportation? Madame Hester was sitting ramrod straight eyes fixed on the center of the table. I think I was holding my breath until Billy answered my question. My bicycle. That was it? Two word answer? Jesse was next and asked Billy if he liked math. We all knew that he hated math. This time his answer was a single syllable no. It had been decided by Jesse and his girlfriend Sarah, who sat on his right, that the three of us should establish that we were really speaking with Bill. Nothing in his obituary or at his funeral would have provided information about his love for his bicycle and his hate of math. Sarah had always flirted with Bill, and I knew her question would make or break the seance. Did you kiss me under the old weeping willow tree? The answer? No. Under the Nolan Street Bridge. I leaned forward and nodded at Sarah, whose eyes were like saucers. I heard Tom take a deep breath. Give us a physical sign as evidence that a connection has truly been made. You could have heard a pin drop as we waited for a response. The room was filled with the sound of that stupid bell Billy used to ring when he rode his bike and wanted to get someone's attention. Mickey gave my hand a squeeze. His was the last question, but it would break Madame Hester's rule. His question would be a single request and definitely not simple. We all miss you, Billy, and will be leaving the area at the end of the summer and would like to see you one last time to say goodbye. I could hear my heartbeat, and my eyes burn with the question and the request. How strange. I'd known Billy since I was three. We were best friends. All of us were on a picnic on the riverbank when he decided to go for a swim. My last memory was of his broad shoulders, back and bright red trunks as he waded into the water. His answer came back as a shock. Meet me at my grave. Madame Hester raised her gaze from the center of the table. I hope all your questions were answered, she said. I would have thought that his answer might have been meet me at my grave at midnight, but it was broad daylight, four o'clock. We all piled into the SUV that Jesse's parents had given him for graduation. The town's only cemetery was located past the industrial district, just at the south end of town. We climbed out and walked as one past the old section of the cemetery to the green treeless lawn that made up the newer portion. Billy's simple headstone was located next to the fence that separated the older section from the newest. When I saw him sitting on the headstone, I looked left and right and realized I was alone. I kept walking. I came within arm's length and realized that my face was wet with tears. I reached out. I'll miss you, Billy, but I'll never forget you. He raised a hand and extended his index finger. There couldn't have been more than an inch between us, and that's when Billy vanished and I fainted. That was eight years ago, but I remember Billy on his gravestone like it was yesterday. I'm currently an ER nurse and often work the night shift alone. Of course a doctor's always on call. I've never had any other paranormal experiences but carry a picture of Billy, and many a night when I am alone, I call out his name. There's never a response, never an answer, but I never feel lonely. You've been listening to Kit's Myths and Mysteries and a real true ghost story. Be sure to listen tomorrow when we talk about the survival of the Empire State Building Elevator Operator. Thanks for listening.