Georgia The place where I would like to call me second home is located all the way down in Savanna Georgia. I can remember way back about nine years ago in the summer of 2008. The plane ride was a long and hot, and I spent the whole ride playing on my PSP. When I got off the plane I remembered walking through the freezing cold Savanna International Airport seeing all the flags of different countries hanging from the ceiling, but then taking one step out of the airport front doors looking for the car services that was rented and feeling the crushing 100°F heat and deathly humidity. But it is all worth the painful heat to spend time in the beautiful city. Savannah is supposedly one of the most haunted cities in America, and later in the week on the same trip, we decided to go on one of Savannah's biggest tourist traps. A ghost tour. We walked around the city on a Wednesday night at ten PM for about two hours. We walked outside of buildings that may have had many deaths in and was supposed to be filled with paranormal activity, but we never went inside. We just got stories of people allegedly seeing ghosts through the window. It was terribly at the time but it was worth it to be …show more content…
Me my dad my brother and grandmother will always play a couple of rounds of golf a trip. I love to play golf with them down there because it is so nice out and the courses and amazing. I do get frustrated playing because I'm not that good at it but it is still fun. I remember vividly a time just me and my brother played. It was the first time I played a full eighteen hole round, and I did terribly. I put a couple balls into the water hazards, put some balls into the woods to never be found again, and even hit someone's house and then pretending like it had come from a different person on a different hole. I had a little over one hundred strokes, but I was only twelve at the time. I've gotten better since
All houses are haunted; all persons are haunted; throngs of spirits follow us everywhere, we are never alone. Every county has they own haunted places some more known than others. I know this very personally because I live less than 100 yards from one of those haunted places, Marsh Road. I will take you on an adventure though Wisconsin’s past and present gulls and goblins that will sure give you a new look on Wisconsin. The haunted places in Wisconsin are worth learning about.
“We have travelled from Florida to Radford, Virginia on four different occasions to investigate St. Albans,” said Terri. During that time they have experienced a plethora of paranormal activity, including the sounds of disembodied voices, the vision of a full-body apparition, having an investigator slapped by an unseen hand, disembodied growling, and a disappearing door, among others.
Golf is more than just a game to me it connects me to my family, teaches me something new every time I play, and be part of a team. I haven’t been playing the game long but it is now a part of me.
Since I come from the Eastern Shore of this state, I was surprised to hear a ghost story I was previously unaware of. The story takes place in a park in Salisbury. The person who told me the story is a 19-year-old sophomore at the University, and we spoke about it one evening after dinner. He believes it to be true, because one of his friend’s siblings has apparently experienced the ghost firsthand. I tape-recorded his narrative:
Come with me as I take you inside one of the most haunted locations in the United States today. It is a journey down dark hallways and into rooms painted by both shadow and light where spirits talk and phantoms walk. St. Albans Sanatorium is a destination known by serious paranormal investigators as a place where they can seek answers to the mysteries of what lies beyond death. Some of these investigators were able to find resolutions for themselves to a number of these age old riddles through their experiences at the sanatorium. The frightening and true stories found within the pages of this book are about these inquisitive investigators’ encounters with The Ghosts of St. Albans Sanatorium.
I wonder if I should I start calling Las Vegas, Nevada home now. I’ve traveled back and forth from California to Las Vegas since I was a child. I can remember at the age of thirteen my family and I would take family weekend trips very often. By the age of seventeen I was forced to move to Vegas for 6 months right before my senior year of high school started. Since it was my last year of high school my parents decided to let me go back to California for the last three months and graduate with my friends. Since I wasn’t eighteen yet, I forced to go back to Las Vegas right the day after graduation.
As I got to know my husband's family, I knew golf was the one thing I eventually was going to have to learn. To them golf is more than just a sport, it is a way of life. Every summer they gather on the golf course for at least one round of golf a week and it always made me wonder, what is it about the game that has got them this hooked? Is there something about it I am just not getting? Every holiday, birthday or major occasion, there is always someone who will happily accept any gift related to golf. So one day, I began to ask questions, and eventually I found out the person they have to thank for this wonderful vice is Grandpa Luke.
I guess it started when I was about twelve years old. My father took me to this place called a golf course. I did not know why or what we were here for, but I was interested in finding out. We entered a building called a clubhouse; then, he paid for a bucket of practice balls. I followed him to the driving range. Once we got there, he got a metal stick from his golf bag and gave it to me. I grabbed the stick, and he showed me how to hold it. Then, he told me to swing it. I swung it back and forth as careless as I could. He then said, "Son, you have one of the nicest golf swings I have ever seen." I did not even know what I was doing with that stick, but I guess my dad saw something I didn't. My father then decided that he was ready to teach me how to use the three clubs of golf: a putter, iron, and wood. He handed me the putter, and we went to the green. He explained to me that a putter is used on a green to get the ball into the hole. I took a few smooth swings back and forth to get a feel for a putter. He said, "Hit this ball until it goes into the hole." I was impressed with myself because it only took me six hits to get it in the hole. He laid twenty balls on the green, and he told me to hit every ball in with one shot. It took me about three hours, but I accomplished what my dad told me. He thought I was ready to try the next club, so we headed to the next location. We went out onto the fairway, and he handed me an iron. He laid out some more balls on the ground and told me to hit them towards the flag on the green. The first ball I hit did not even get close to the green. The rest of the balls I hit went either over or on the front of the green, but I never let another one fall short. My dad said, "Keep practicing until you hit all of the balls on the green." I kept practicing until all of the balls were laid up around the flag.
There have been reports of lights turning on and off at will, doors flying open by themselves, and during a period of construction when the electricity was disconnected, the lights came on at night (Embassy). The last haunted place I’ll be talking about is the Duncan Chapel Methodist Church’s Children’s Graveyard. The cemetery is older than the church, which was built in the 1850s, with some gravestones dating back to the late 1700s (Children’s). People have said that they’ve seen unexplained lights, disembodied laughing, and running footsteps and 74% of people reported this place is as haunted as everyone says
Many folks go their whole lives without having to move. For them it is easy; they know the same people, have loads of friends, and never have to move away from their families. As with me, I was in a different situation. I grew up my entire life, all eighteen years of it, in a small town called Yorktown, Virginia. In my attempt to reach out for a better life style, my girlfriend and I decided we were going to move to Shreveport, Louisiana. Through this course of action, I realized that not two places in this country are exactly alike. I struggled with things at first, but I found some comforts of home here as well.
Have you ever been to Texas? I have been once. My trip to Texas was unbelievably awesome. I saw many of things on my way there. While we were there, I had loads of fun. Many things happened while we were there. Texas was the coolest place I have ever been.
It had been one scorching hot summer when the temperatures were record breaking. Everyone was dying for water and air conditioning, people were having heart strokes, getting over heated and being rushed to the hospital. This place was Nashville, Tennessee, where country music is all you hear and they all wear jeans, button down shirts with boots and act the heat is no big deal.
Have you ever looked off a gigantic cliff? Now imagine traveling 30 miles per hour on a bike with curvy roads with enormous cliffs on your side with no rails. This is exactly what I did with my family when we went to Colorado. From the hotel we drove to a bike tour place to take us to the summit of Pikes Peak. After we arrived at the building we saw pictures of how massive the cliffs were, but what terrified me was the fact they had no side rails. This observation was thrilling as well as terrifying. It was an odd mix of emotions, but I loved the adrenaline rush it gave me. My dad whispered to me, “ This will be absolutely horrifying”.
The Nelly Butler hauntings is referred to as the first recorded ghost story in American history (LiBrizzi 5), and possibly the most exciting hauntings to date as there are still many unsolved mysteries. The apparition appeared on more than 30 separate occasions to over 100 witnesses in Sullivan, Maine, just over fifteen years after the American Revolution (5-6). Although the Nelly Butler apparition is one of the most convincing ghosts of all time, it was subject to suspicions of fraud. These claims turn out to be groundless as the evidence reveals the ghost to be genuine.
I wasn’t always custom to the whirling seas of corn fields. Nor would I ever thought that I would be living in a location where there were less than 3,000 people. Moving from Nashville, Tennessee to small-town Fort Branch, Indiana is quite a jump; more like a leap of faith. It’s definitely a different scenery, but yet, still just as beautiful. And now I live in the middle of a corn field.