The next summer after we moved into Groton, i was very busy trying to do it myself on a lot of projects to make the house more livable. On one of them, I was struggling to wire up the new bathroom lights by stringing a cable from the center of the attic to the top of the bathroom.
Somehow, my movements became very slow and hard to finish such a simple job. I sweated and tugged and tried to connect the wires, but just couldn't seem to do it. This was not me, the guy that was trained as a USAF B-52 navigation and bombing system technician, and as a physicist. Such a job should have been duck soup, a ten-minute job, max!
So, I took a break, and had some coffee, then mulled over what had happened. It was not me! It was the poltergeists again! The cure must be to get mad once more and tell them to let me do my job! I went to the attic entrance and using my stern voice again, I demanded loudly to be let alone up there for this job.
A few minutes later I went up to the attic, and inside of 10 minutes I had it all connected and tested. Another check for our side!
Later in May, friends arrived in their huge RV to see us, but more importantly, the wife wanted to go up to the attic to see what she could see. They had detoured to Groton specifically for her to do this as she was a "sensitive". She went up and stayed there for at least an hour.
When she came down, she had a startling report. She said we had three invisible families living up there, and they were not hostile to us. But they did want to stay there in peace. They were sorry to have slowed me down, but they didn't know just what I was going to do. With that I asked her to explain to the families that we were renovating the house to make it nicer and ask them to let us do the entire refit. She did that, and we had no slowdowns again.
My Mother-in Law, Sarah, came up from Richmond for a visit in June, and marveled at the snow still piled up on the north side of the house. After a week, Sarah said she wanted to go home that day. We were puzzled and a bit hirt, but we asked her why not stay for the second week as we planned? Is there a problem?
We encouraged her to tell us what the matter was, and finally she broke down and told us what she had experienced. Your house is haunted, she said, and I have been seeing a tall young woman with long black hair in a white flowing dress walking in the hall by my door every night, to and fro, to and fro, but she never looks at me and didn't respond when I called out to her. Last night I saw her standing outside by the big tree just looking into the distance. I am spooked! I am afraid of her! I want to go home!
An hour later I drove her to the Boston airport, Logan.
Our lives went on, I was travelling a lot and managed to arrive home for the weekends at least. One Thursday, I was met at the door by my wife, who was all dolled up, saying we have an invitation to dinner that night at the Groton Inn with some Groton old timers, so get ready, we are due there at 6:30.
When we arrived, we were greeted as if we were the honored guests. There were cocktails and nibblies, and then a roast beef dinner with all the sides one could ask for, and a very nice wine to go with it all. And then dessert and coffee. Everyone had been very nice, and the chitchat went effortlessly. Until the coffee was served.
It started with an innocent question: how do you like the old Porter House as it was known for many years.? Fine, we said, and we are fixing it up fairly fast, we should invite you all to see what we have done in a month or so. That met with approving nods and murmurs, then someone asked, have you had any difficulties settling in there, any problems at all?
Then it hit me! They were really asking whether we had been fighting with the poltergeists! They knew about them! My wife looked at me and signaled that it was my story to tell if I wanted to. So, I told them that we had some odd experiences, but had made our peace with the people or spirits in the house and have had no problems since.
What experiences, one asked, very persistently? Now I knew for a certain that we were the stars of the night and had to pay for our dinner by telling them our stories. I told them what you have read in Chapter 1. They were rather pleased with that, and then began to tell us what they knew about the house. That part will begin Chapter 3.
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