We Have a Ghost (For Real)

I rarely write about personal experiences on Halloween Alliance. I like to bring all things Halloween to my creepy little readers…one scare at a time. Usually, that means menacing movies, lurid locales and horrifying history. (And annoying alliteration, apparently.)

But as spring moves along toward summer, I’m thinking about The Man in My Hallway, as I do at this time each year.

And I wanted to share him with you. (I hope he doesn’t mind.)

I First Saw The Man in My Hallway Ten Years Ago

The haunted hallway where our resident ghost appears.

One night, while watching TV and scrolling endlessly on my phone, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

At first I thought it was a reflection off my glasses. (Or dirt. There’s always that on my glasses. Lots and lots of dirt. True confessions.)

But something made me look up, and in that split-second, I saw him. The Man in My Hallway.

I caught an overall impression — a man, perhaps 45 or so, dressed in rough clothing (he put my then pre-teens to shame), carrying something…a pick? A rake? A something…and glancing at me as if he wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see me there.

Then he disappeared.

And I sat thinking: Am I crazy?

Like this, but with a hat. And…clothes in general.

He Reappears When He Wants To

The Man in My Hallway looks eerily (yar, har) similar to the image I have chosen for this article. In fact, I did a double-take. Even the expression is the same.

However, The Man in My Hallway is older. And he isn’t nude. So there’s that.

I know he sees me. And I know he isn’t shaken in the slightest. The impression I get is that he’s off to work. He’s used to other people being around, and he doesn’t give women much thought; I’m doing my work, he is doing his.

Since that first “visit,” I’ve seen him a handful of times. He doesn’t appear on a regular schedule. But it always seems to be in the summer or early fall.

He Could Be a Farmer (Or…Something Else)

California migrant workers in the early 1900s. The man front and just right of center reminds me of our ghost.

If you’ve ever read or seen Great Depression-era classic The Grapes of Wrath (Steinbeck FTW), you know that areas of California have been hot spots for seeking migrant work for a very long time now. And for whatever reason, I get the feeling that The Man in My Hallway isn’t here permanently. I “see” a tent around him, or some kind of temporary enclosure.

The other heads-up that gives me the impression of temporary work is that I feel he is seeing a little area FILLED with people. Just crammed with them. And we’re not all related. I get no familial warmth from him, though he isn’t hostile, either.

Whatever he’s holding in his hand, it has a long wooden handle.

I live in Southern California, so I’m guessing he was some sort of seasonal worker. And, much like it seems things may be turning out for us Gen Xers, he’s not allowed to stop working even after death.

Will He Be Back?

I hope so. The name “Jack” comes to me, but then again, so does “Herb.” In fact, tons of old-timey, 1800s-ish names pop into my head when I think about The Man in My Hallway.

But what comes to mind most of all is how much I hope to see him again…so I can get that happy thrill of knowing that we really do go on, after.

Tell Me About YOUR Ghost

I LOVE ghost stories…but I have so few of my own. Have a ghost in your home? Let’s hear all about it in the comments below!