I dont have any ghostly football player stories (although I always got the shudders in the OSU stadium), but here is a sport-themed story about the Cincinnati Reds. Its an excerpt from Haunted Ohio II. THE GHOST WHO STOPPED THE REDS GAME Mary James’s* father-in-law hated flowers. “Ah, you can’t eat those things,” he’d say good-naturedly. “You gotta plant a garden.” And he did, digging up the yard next to Mary’s house, just across the street from his Cincinnati home. In August of 1979, he died after a long illness. “There were so many funeral flowers!” said Mary. “I remember thinking, ‘He would have rather had onions or celery.’” At the time Mary felt the spirit of her father-in-law near the garden. “It was like getting hit with heat. It was August, but this was like a breeze of hot wind. It wasn’t scary. It just was.” The Monday after the funeral, Mrs. James gave Mary the remaining baskets of funeral flowers. Mary kept remembering her father-in-law’s words: “You can’t eat flowers.” It worked on her to the point that she took the flowers and dumped them in a corner of the garden and said out loud, “Here’s your flowers, you old buzzard!” “That was the way we talked to each other,” explained Mary. As soon as her husband Greg* got home from work that evening, Mary told him about dumping the flowers. About nine o’clock the same night, they were listening to the Reds game on the radio until the game came back on the TV. Said Mary, “A garbled voice drowned out the sounds, as if the TV and radio were dead.” The voice was neither human nor normal. It was not male or female. In an emotionless monotone it said, “I appreciated the flowers.” “There was no inflection, it was almost singsong. We couldn’t figure out what had caused it. I know what CB skip sounds like—this wasn’t CB skip. And we had never had any interference on any of our equipment before. “My husband and I lay there in bed and didn’t speak for twenty minutes. Then Greg said, ‘I’ll bet Pop did appreciate the flowers.’” The next Saturday Mary said to her husband, “Greg, he’s not there any more.” The spirit was no longer in the garden. “Then, slowly, Greg told me what happened on Friday. He and his father had worked together in an electrical business. When Greg went on a run for parts, he was startled to feel his father in the truck with him. He told Mary, “I could smell Pop in the truck even with the windows open. When I came out from the parts house, he wasn’t there anymore.” Greg had the feeling that his father was saying, “I couldn’t get through to you [son] so I got through to Mary with the flowers.”
Posted on: Sun, 02 Feb 2014 13:21:37 +0000
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