From Bill:

In 1955 we moved to Ravenswood, West Virginia. It was a nice community and I was 5 years old. My dad worked for Kaiser Aluminum at the steel plant there.

When I was about nine or ten years old, I noticed a little two-room white house on top of the hill overlooking the house that we lived in. My dad told me a story about the house - he told me it was haunted. As a skeptical kid, I didn't believe him.

This house didn't have any telephone poles or even any wires for electricity. The house was there all alone, no other houses nearby.

One night two other boys and I decided to go up there to see for ourselves. On the way up the hill to the front porch, the lights went on and off. I still get chills,now,while I am writing this to you. Remember, there is no electricity and this is a two room house. The lights went on and off all the while, going up the hill. We got there and could see it was very run down. When we stepped on the porch, the boards creaked.

I turned the white, round door knob and it was locked. As we turned around to walk away, the door opened all by itself. We went in very slowly. I found a light switch on the wall next to the door and flipped it up and down but, of course, it didn't work. We then saw a light coming from under the door that led into the next room, so we started towards it.

The room was pitch black, - you couldn't see a thing, not even your hand held out in front of you. It was cold and musty.

The next thing I knew, I felt this hand on my shoulder and I naturally assumed it was one of the other boys, just trying to find his way in the dark. I called out his name and he said that it wasn't his hand. It didn't belong to any of my other friends either. I turned white as chalk and told the other boys that we should get out of there and they agreed.

I moved to California in 1966 and don't know if the little house is still there or not. And I still don't know who - or what - it was that put its hand on my shoulder that night.