My parents had old semi-Victorian home in Wilson borough. It was on the border of Wilson and Easton off of 15th Street. They bought the house in December of 1977, so we all grew up there. In this old home I heard stories of the people who lived in the house prior to us and they were quite the characters. One lady would shoot at the birds outside the kitchen window with a rifle while holding her child. I remember someone telling my mom that the man who my parents bought the house from was in the mafia.
My parents redecorated the house and made it our family home. My two older sisters Suzie and Janet shared a bedroom. They had bunk beds. I had my own room. For years my sister Janet would wake up from a sound sleep to hearing whispers. Suzie said she heard footsteps. I thought and said, being the imaginative kid, “You guys can’t be afraid of her, she is my imaginary friend.” Well, there were nights when I felt my bed move.
Now, whatever this was, it wasn’t a mean spirit. Nothing ever got broken. And all five of us–my parents, my two sisters and I–just thought, “ahh, this is just bologna.”
Lol, well every time my sister Janet was left alone in the house she was spooked. Every light would be left on in the house, which annoyed my dad a bit.
Fast forward to 1996. I was working at a local retail store and I would walk the mile-and-a-half to and from work. I walked home that day. My parents went away for the weekend and I had to hurry up and catch my bus to the community college for my psychology class. When I left the house that night–it was around four I remember, it being light out yet–I left the outside light and the foyer light on, so when I got home I would not have to fumble around in the dark.
My sister Janet was gone. She had gotten married and moved to Hellertown. Suzie had an apartment in Bethlehem.
As I got home, all the lights were on. Every light in the kitchen. The dining room, the living room, the TV room, the sun porch. All the lights were on upstairs on the second and third floors. I was like “huh?????” I then called around. I called sister Janet and she was adamant: she didn’t go to mom and dad’s house. I then called Suzie. She said she was never there, either. Last but not least, I called my pop pop and I asked him, “were you at the house?” He said no as well.
This spooked me. I walked around the house thinking maybe I walked in on a burglar. Nope. Everything was intact. To this day, that gives me the heebee jeebees.
One night, I was outside after midnight. I had come in from smoking a cigarette and as I walked passing towards the stairs that led me up to the second floor I saw a cloud. As I approached it, it disintegrated as I got closer to it. My sister Suzie said she saw an apparition on the top of the stairs on the second floor. As she got closer, the ghost disappeared.
So many odd things happened in that house. In 2004, my parents moved out. To be honest, even if it was haunted it still will always have a special place for me.
Editor’s Note: Everything in this story is true, according to its author. The names of the individuals in it have been changed to protect their privacy. For more stories about haunted places in the Lehigh Valley and beyond, click here.
