WEBMASTERS TALES...River - WWW.GUARDIANTALES.COM

I grew up in a house just above the Duckabush River in Washington State, which is where the following events occurred from 1970 to 1974. I am the youngest of four children. In 1970, I was 12 years old. My oldest sibling was no longer living at home at the time of these events, and none of the other children had any experiences of a paranormal nature of any kind while living in the house...

Our house was isolated from everyone; the background on this website, in fact, strongly reminds me of my "back yard", as we were literally surrounded by just this type of heavily forested woods. I grew up in the quiet of these woods, always alert for bear and elk when out exploring, and falling asleep to the rushing sound of the river at night. I remember only feeling safe when I was out in these woods alone...

My father was physically, verbally and emotionally abusive to myself, my siblings, and my mother. He was especially cruel to our pets, and would often injure them in front of us...I hated him. When I was 10 years old, he became ill and went to see the doctor, where he learned he had Acute Leukemia, and was given approximately 6 months to live. He lived for another 2 years, dying at home on January 3rd, 1970.

He was buried on the property where he died. Cremated, his ashes were set into a huge rock that sat below our house in full view, in the path of the river. A friend of the family came and drilled a hole into the rock, and set the urn inside, then cemented the hole over, leaving it smooth with no inscription. There was no funeral or memorial service of any kind held. His ashes remain there today.

Shortly after my father’s death, I was alone in the house in the early evening, sitting curled up on the couch reading. We had a dog at the time named Pete, who was half black Labrador and half Irish Setter. He was a rather large dog, weighing about 100 pounds, and he looked like an overgrown black Irish Setter. Pete was sleeping on the floor at my feet, and across from and to the left a bit from us was the overstuffed chair which had been my father’s favorite.

I was quietly reading and Pete was asleep, when I suddenly felt a presence in the room with us.    I looked over at the empty chair, and I could see that the seat cushion had compressed several inches, as though someone were sitting there. The sense of not being alone continued, but I didn't feel afraid. I decided to ignore the phenomena and went back to my book. My lack of fear may have been because I could sense no animosity or danger in the presence--it was just there. I remember telling myself that it was probably just my imagination, because I was alone in the house with only Pete for company. And, I would have probably believed that, except for Pete...

Pete suddenly awoke from a sound sleep and looked over at the empty chair. I remained where I was, quietly watching to see what he would do. He watched the chair for a minute, and then began wagging his tail while laying down, thumping it on the floor. He got up, went over to the chair and laid down again, curling himself as though to accommodate feet I couldn’t see. He continued to look upward at the chair, while thumping his tail on the floor again. I don't know what he saw, I could not see what he did, but I did clearly see the long hair on his neck and shoulders get repeatedly smoothed down, in a rhythmic motion, as though he were being petted... Eventually, the presence went away, Pete went back to sleep, and I continued reading...

3 years after my father’s death, my mother remarried. I loved my stepfather. He was a hard working, down to earth man, who did not believe in ghosts, or hauntings, or anything else supernatural. Shortly after he had joined the family, my stepfather suddenly decided to add on a new bedroom. He was abnormally impatient and anxious to have it done as soon as possible, and even fired the first contractors he hired to build it, because they weren't fast enough. As soon as the carpet was laid, he and my mother moved into the room, even though it wasn't quite finished. I then moved into their old bedroom.

Shortly after moving into my room, I awoke suddenly out of a sound sleep with the sense that something wasn't quite right. I would sleep with my curtains pulled open, to bring some light into my room, and there was normally enough light to be able to make out the furniture, posters, etc.   However, in this instance, the room was utterly, completely, solidly dark. I lay there for several minutes, again unafraid, and became aware that there was a presence standing next to my bed. I was convinced that this presence had deliberately made the room too dark for me to see them, but they could see me. I decided to once again ignore the whole thing, and tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t, due to the sensation of being watched. Finally, I became very angry. I sat up in bed, and demanded furiously, “Leave me ALONE!” In that instant, my room became light enough for me to again make out the furniture and posters - the presence was gone... I had no further incidents in that house.

When I was 17, my mother and stepfather moved to Oregon. They rented out the Duckabush house; going through several tenants in the few years before selling it. I remember hearing that tenants were claiming there was something “weird” about the house, and rumors that it was haunted, but I never spoke directly with any of these people, and I never heard any details or reliable information about these rumours.

When I was in my early 20's, I came to know the woman who worked as a nurse for the doctor who diagnosed my father’s terminal illness, and one day, when she realized who my father had been, she told me the following... when the doctor gave him the grim prognosis, my father looked at my mother and in front of the doctor and the nurse, told her, "I'm gonna haunt you for the rest of your life." The nurse told me it had always bothered her, and she would never forget it...

When I was 24, I moved to Oregon to stay with my mother and stepfather, and lived there for about a year.   One night, when my stepfather was not home, my mother told me the same story the nurse had related to me. She did not know I had already heard this from the nurse, and I never told her what the nurse had said, nor did I tell her about either of my experiences. However, what my mother said next gave me chills. She claimed that my father was indeed haunting her, that she would wake to see him at the foot of her bed, standing with his arms crossed, looking at her and grinning. I asked her about my stepfather being so driven to add a new bedroom onto the old house, and she said that he decided to do that when he saw my father standing as described at the foot of the bed in the old bedroom, grinning at HIM. However, he didn’t tell my mother why he wanted the new bedroom until after they had moved to Oregon. If my stepfather had any more experiences, I am not aware of them. He and my mother divorced years ago, and my stepfather is now deceased.

I believe my mother was haunted -- my father kept his threat. There is no other explanation for she and my stepfather having such similar experiences of seeing the same thing, each without knowledge of the other.

My mother died in 1998, and at her request, my brother, my sister and I scattered her ashes in the Duckabush River, below our old house. We were in sight of the rock where my father’s ashes were placed. However, in the 24+ years since I have lived there, the river has changed course...and due to that change, the rock no longer rests in the river's path. The water completely bypasses it now.   My mother’s ashes will never contact either that rock or what it contains, no matter how far the river spreads them...