Hey, it's Michelle, and tonight every caller brought me something I could not stop thinking about after I heard it.
Trina from Norwich calls in with a true ghost story from a paranormal investigation at a cultural heritage center where she and her sisters volunteer, a place that holds their family history, their father's belongings, and the archive of their shared culture. The spirit box said one name first. Then later in the night it said two more words. Small boy limp. Their father had polio when he was three years old. He walked with a stunted leg his entire life. Nobody else in that room could have known that. Nobody could have planted it. It sounded like a grandmother reporting what she saw from the outside, the way someone who watched a small boy limp would describe it rather than the way the family would. That observational distance is what makes it so specific and so impossible to dismiss.
Angelica from Marietta, California calls in with a true ghost story about moving into her in-laws' house and meeting Bob. Bob had a morning routine. Cabinet opening. Mugs rattling. Sliding glass door opening and then closing behind him. Angelica heard all of it from upstairs and came down to find nobody there. Her husband had left for his fire station shift almost an hour earlier. Whatever Bob was, he had lived in that house long enough that the house remembered him and kept replaying his morning whether he was physically present or not.
Gary D from Southern Ontario returns with his second call to Tell Me A Ghost Story. If you heard his first story about falling through ice at midnight and hearing a 1920s New Year's Eve party playing in an abandoned pavilion basement, you already know Gary has a particular gift for being present when something genuinely inexplicable happens. This one is from a Halloween party in the 1970s. Something glided across the room and sat down across from him at a corner table. Tentacles hanging from its shoulders, wet and glistening and moving independently the way actual tentacles move. In the 1970s. Before animatronics. Before computer chips in costumes. It never spoke. It sat with Gary for what could have been thirty minutes and then glided out the front door the same way it arrived. Gary nearly slipped on the wet trail it left behind on the floor. Not a single friend at that party saw it. Nobody has ever explained what left that trail.
Cindy Ketron from Indianapolis calls in with a haunted portrait story that connects a ghost encounter to one of the most iconic and unresolved celebrity deaths in American history. Cindy owns a studio portrait of Marilyn Monroe. Every year on August 4th, the anniversary of Marilyn's death, the portrait knocks three times. When Cindy comes into the room the eyes are open wider than usual, looking horrified, as if she cannot believe this is happening again. There is a story about Marilyn that feels relevant. She was once walking down a street in New York City completely unrecognized when a friend asked if she was sure nobody knew who she was. Marilyn said, "Do you want to see her?" And then she shifted. Something in her posture and expression changed, and within moments people were stopping and crowding around her. She could turn Marilyn Monroe on like a switch. What knocks in Cindy's apartment every August 4th is not the woman. It is the presence. And the presence is apparently still very much here.
00:00 Intro
00:00 Trina from Norwich and the spirit box that said small boy limp
02:23 Angelica from California and the ghost named Bob who made coffee
06:12 Gary D from Southern Ontario and the Halloween creature that left a wet trail
13:19 Cindy Ketron from Indianapolis and the haunted Marilyn Monroe portrait
Have a real ghost story of your own? A haunting experience, something you heard,
something you cannot explain? I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit tellmeaghoststory.com to share your story. You might end up on the show.
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