Transcript of Listener Tale 106 : Comfy Queens

All right.

Hey, weirdos. I'm Ash. I'm Elaina. And this is Morbid. We are off to a fucking iconic start, to be honest. I don't think it's ever started that hot and heavy.

2026.

2026. Whoa. Wow. I forgot all the things I was going to say to you. We're just comfy Queens today.

We are comfy Queens.

So pause what you're doing. If you're driving, pause safely and get comfy and then resume being a queen. And be a queen or a king, whatever you prefer.

Whatever you feel.

Or theme. There you go. So we wanted to read you some haunted ass listener tales today because it's been a while, I think, since we did a purely the haunted one. Which is weird that this is. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Nicholas knew that.

Nicholas agreed.

That's weird.

It's weird that this is the one we chose for today. We're like, You know what? Haunted houses. Let's go with that. And Nicholas is like, I'm here.

And just to explain why we were so freaked out at the beginning of this, if you watched the beginning of this. But while we were setting up our film guy, our camera, our cameraman Aiden, was, what What did... Oh, Mikey put on Ghost 2, which we always have, which is Nicolas, but it was the wrong voice. And Adam was like, Okay, Nicole.

Because it was a woman's voice.

And then when Nicholas came on, he said a bunch of things, and then he said Nicole.

I can't get over that.

And he said so much, and now he's just being quiet.

I know.

And it's really dark in here, actually.

Because one of the last things he said was stressed. And I wonder if he's like- It was after making him scream. I think he's like, I'm stressing you guys out. Sorry. Yeah, maybe. We haven't done a Listener tales episode in a little while. We've recorded one. It's been over a month. So I think he's like, he had a lot to say. He was like, We haven't hung out in a while.

Let's do this. That was genuinely terrifying.

That was really scary. Wow.

All right. What other things do we have to tell you? We're really trying to get sponsored by soda. Yeah. I really- A bunch of soda.

Generally soda across the board.

I want Ollie pops. Listen, brands, you get the first one free.

First one free, Dr. Pepper.

We want Olliepop and Dr. Pepper. I contact. Okay. To sponsor us. You got that? I think you have to take a sip after you. Cheers or it's bad luck. And I didn't hear that anywhere. It's just my intuition.

I believe you. Okay, thanks. I'm going to go with it.

So, yeah, I actually just spent so much money directly at the Olliepop store because I couldn't find the Shirley Temple flavor anywhere. I love that. So I did buy a case of twelve.

I really like that commitment. Yeah.

I got the orange cream, too.

I love orange cream, anything. Me, too. Sorry. I was crying, laughing.

Out of fright.

Out of fright. Out of pure uncomfortable. It was spooky up in this, bitch.

Yeah.

Hello. I'm all thrown.

All right.

Let's start. Let's start. I'll start. Haunted Houses.

Haunted Houses and Haunted Morbids and Haunted Podlabs. Haunted Podlabs, yeah. All right. Well, this one is tale one. Linda, the friendly Ghost with slightly possessive tendencies.

All right, Linda.

Hello. I must start with the obligatory groveling with a I'm in appreciation for the many hours I have gotten to spend listening to your glorious productions of the most interesting topics that satiate my need for mental stimulation outside of work and motherhood. That was a great sentence. That really was. I absolutely love delving into crime, haunting, spooky things, and wild stories with you two. Shout out to the molasses flood episode, just what in the hell. That was a crazy one. I also- That was. I also absolutely lived for your listener tales and thought I might have something interesting to share. Let's take it back and set the scene. My name is Cassie, not Casey, please. And yes, of course, you can use my name and any others mentioned in this story.

It's because you said please.

Yeah.

If you didn't say please, I would have been like, Nope, calling you Cassie or Casey, whichever one. Casey. Casey.

Calling you Casey. We're going to call you Cassie because you're a polite queen. It's true. Queen. So I live in the North Georgia area. The story takes place in a town called, thank you so much for the pronunciation, because that's intimidating. That is intimidating. Delanaga? Yup. Delanaga. Delanaga. Which was the site of a major gold rush and is now a cute little mountain town that is loved for its vineyards Christmas lights and is highly visited during leaf-looking season.

I feel like that's a Hallmark movie. It sounds like it. It feels like.

Locals refer to themselves as Nuggets. Oh, yeah. This is Hallmark. Barkrean. Is this real? Like gold nuggets, L-O-L. Also of significance was the Cherokee population that inhabited the area before the Gold Rush days. In fact, the word Dahlonega, correct? Oh, look at me. I did it. What are you? Is the Cherokee word for gold. Oh, shit.

Cool. That makes sense.

My husband, Trustin and I, I'm so hoping that I'm saying that right and just punch me if I'm not, were high school sweethearts and had been engaged since my senior year of high school. I'm obsessed with that. That's adorable. And you said, much to the non-delight of my entire family. I was historically a very goody-to-shewer type, so it shocked my parents when I moved in with him the day after I graduated high school. We rented/lived with his dad while I decided to pursue the college route. We got married four years later and finally decided as I was finishing up my last year of college, that it was time we found our own home to start our family in. We didn't have a lot of money, but we were determined to buy a starter home that we could raise at least one or two little kids in for a little while. That's so cute. I will never forget finding our home. We saw the house online and initially dismissed it, but one day we just decided to go check out the house. The driveway was a dirt road, not uncommon in our area, but it was not well maintained.

Maintained? I said that weird.

Not well maintained.

Maintained. They're not maintained. Not maintained. Why are they not maintaining it?

Who would maintain it?

You're going to maintain it.

I bet- How would maintain it guys?

I bet Kasia would maintain it. Yeah. Okay.

So would Nicholas wake up? You were wild.

I don't know. Maybe he's staying asleep. So in fact, we had to park and walk up the driveway because it wasn't on tent, and we weren't even sure that our cars would make it up the hill. We all got to the top of the driveway out of breath and slightly dying, but we go inside and we fall in love with this house. Trustin and I weren't sure why it was in our budget, but assumed it had to do with the difficult driveway. It was very cabany with large windows that overlooked the trees in the front of our three acre property. That's a lot of acreage. We found out that the property was a foreclosure, but we didn't know why. We put an offer in, went through the hideous process of buying the damn thing, and eventually it became our home sweet home. We were so thrilled to have something to call ours and started to move in the moment that we could. Nobody actually tells you how malicious it is to buy your first home.

Oh, yeah. The process is wild.

Like, of course, you're so lucky to be able to buy a home and you appreciate that, but underwriting, is that what it is?

It's a lot, yeah. The process is wild.

Underwriting almost took me out several times.

I think the process is meant to see if you are strong enough. It is, yeah.

They're like, only the strong at homes. It's nuts. And that's a joke.

That's a joke.

So that's when it all began. We had the windows and doors open as we began to bring items into our new home. Every time we dropped off stuff into the house and then went back outside, as soon as we stepped back outside, bam, bitch went down. Just kidding. The door would sling behind us.

Bam, Sid.

Super bitch.

Sorry, I had to finish it. You have to.

At first we thought, eh, just some wind, right? But it happened every single time that we'd go back outside, almost like something wanted us out. We were only We were closing a few things in to spend the night there as we had a very busy week. So all we really wanted to move in was a mattress, some charging cords, and some simple toiletry items until we could officially move everything in. We were standing in the kitchen discussing how weird the door situation was when all of a sudden we heard a woman's voice coming from the bedroom down the hallway. We both looked at each other and decided, Surely that couldn't be coming from inside of the house. Surely. It must have echoed off the hills outside and through the open windows, right?

Right.

Right. Right. We decided just to ignore it and go sit in the empty living room having a beer to celebrate our accomplishment.

You just ignored that?

That's crazy, you guys.

That goes crazy.

That's when we're watching you on the, what's it called?

On the TV?

On the TV. On the TV. On the scary movie. And we're like, What are you doing?

Don't ignore that.

Go investigate. So we sat on the floor and started chatting when we realized we were missing one of our dogs. We have two dogs. Both are rescued. One of our pups, Pazzie. That's so cute. Was rescued from a very abusive I'm in the same home.

In fact, I'll fuck those people who did that.

I'll kill them myself. In fact, when we first brought him into our previous home, I will. You heard animals bear hand. That's right. It's fine. So when we first brought him into our previous home, he would not get on the couch to sit down and relax. We finally realized this must have meant that he wasn't allowed on the furniture at his old home and was probably abused if he tried to get on the couch. I hate that. I know. It took months to finally show him that he was allowed to lay on the couch. And once he finally realized this, he then spent months not wanting to leave the couch. I love that. I love that. Long story short, he eventually opened up to us and never wanted to leave our side. So it was strange that we didn't know where he was in this moment. We started calling him, which he would always respond to, but we couldn't find inside or outside. We decided to go check our unfinished basement, but the lights were off down there, so we were pretty sure that he wouldn't be down there. To our surprise, he was in the basement in the dark, calmly laying beside a drain in the middle of the room as if it was a long lost friend.

What? My husband and I looked at each other like, What the fuck is going on here? Pazzie refused to leave the area until about 30 minutes later, he came back upstairs and laid beside us. What a weird start to being homeowners. Yeah. But we He decided to ignore the weirdness. I mean, we did just sign a 30-year contract, so what were we going to do about it anyways? I mean, there is that underwriting.

Not as easy.

Fast forward about a month, I was working the night shift on a nursing home in town. It was the weekend, and Tristan didn't have to work, so he decided to have a few drinks and play some video games. We're both night owls, so I wasn't surprised to get a text from him around 3: 00 AM. Babe, that's not night owls. That's something. You guys are morning owls.

You guys are nocturnal. You might be.

I was surprised, however, when he asked if I had ever seen condensation form inside of a house before on only one window area. I thought to myself, he's had a few drinks. He must be messing around/cuckoo nuts bananas. Yeah. He sent me a picture, and I immediately saw what looked like to me in the condensation, a nun kneeling, crying and praying. I want to look at clouds with you. What?

Do you have a picture of this? Yeah. Do we have a pic? We do. We have a picture this? Okay.

Yeah. I called him and I said, Do you see what I see? And he said, I see the condensation. And then I told him what I saw. Honestly fair. He eventually saw it, too. An hour later, it just disappeared, and we've never had another episode of condensation inside our house just occurring randomly.

I can't wait to see this condensation.

So what do we do? What do we do? We pretend it's no big deal and we move on.

Guys, I'm yelling at you so much. Guys, I'm the audience.

I don't know what you're supposed to do, but Stop ignoring it.

That's honestly valid. I don't know what you're supposed to do either, but ignoring it feels crazy.

But what do you do?

I don't know.

You call Ghostbusters. I don't know.

Write a story about it. Here you are. I know you are.

So the next weird thing that happened was a few months later. Trustin lost his wallet, and we looked all over the house, in the cars, in the laundry, everywhere we could think of and could not find his wallet. We decided that he must have lost it at the store earlier in the day. We were running late to go to a movie, but decided to double check our bedsheets since we were chilling on our bed earlier, and he likes, he always likes to keep his wallet in his pocket.

Brown chicken, brown cat.

Just chilling.

Just chilling.

We took all the sheets off, shook them out, and made up the bed since we were already moving the sheets around. But time was running out and we still wanted to get to the movie, so we left. When we came home, his wallet was placed in the center of our bed on top of the sheets. We both felt weird about that, but we were highly doubtful with our driveway situation and the remote of our house that somebody would have actually come into our house. So we decided we possibly had a ghost, and she was actually- What?

He said, Looking for me?

It sounded like he said, Wutang for me. And I said, What exactly does that mean?

Wutang for me.

He said, Wutang forever.

He said, I know you're thinking bone thugs. From meet me at What?

What did he say?

He said, not likely.

He said, not bone thugs for me. Not likely. He really said, Wutang for me. He said, I have nodded to meet me at the cross. Listen to you, bitch. Oh my God. Wu-tang for me. You're on one today. I really love it.

But he did say, Looking for me, question mark. So that was more spooky.

I mean, we are always looking for you. Where are you? Where are you, Nicholas? So the ghost is helpful. Other than just to feeling a little bit unsettled about things moving around and the possibility of some ghost just hanging out, we never felt any fear, so we just continued on. About a year later, I was tidying up the kitchen when I found this random small piece of cut fabric lying on the island in our kitchen. It was fabric that I had never seen before. And being the crafty person in the house, if there was extra fabric laying around, it would have been bought by me. Since I didn't recognize this fabric square thing, I just threw it away. But later that day, my husband and I were getting things out to cook for dinner, and the fabric was on the counter again. I asked my husband, Why did you get this out of the trash? Is this something of yours? And he said, What are you talking about? I didn't put that there. I picked up the fabric and noticed it was cut from the exact same fabric as the piece that I found earlier, but it was a different shape and a slightly different part of the pattern.

I went to get the other piece out of the trash to compare and see if maybe it was the same piece of fabric that randomly fell out of the trash and back onto my kitchen island because that makes sense. Why not? But the trash had been taken out recently. Floor. As floor things go. So there was no way that it was the same piece of fabric. Where was this coming from? If there was a ghost in the house, where was she keeping this fabric? And why did she want me to have some? The house was completely empty when we moved in, so I felt a little uneasy about this mystery fabric. And then I also noticed that the pattern resembled a face, which I will attach this picture to.

She was literally just saying, if there is a ghost where she's giving me this fabric, why does she want me to have it?

And he said she hides.

She was referring to that ghost as a she, and then he just said she hides. She hides.

Okay, he's putting in his guess. Thank you, Nicholas. Said she hides.

I would be worried in this scenario that it was somebody living in my walls or attic.

Me too. I have the gnarliest chill all of a sudden, and I'm scared.

Yeah. I got goosebumps.

I feel like that feeling, and that's weird in my neck. She hides. That's ominous as fuck.

That was a warm moment.

Yeah. I'm continuously warming. Yeah. Weird. But alas, life moves on. We put a thumb tack in this fabric and put it on our spiral staircase as I didn't want it to go missing and more mystery pieces of fabric to show up. I decided I was going to keep my eye on this one. Life continued on and we could hear bumps in the night, knocking on our headboard occasionally and, hear a woman's voice every now and then.

Oh, just, you know. Very casual things.

Just that. Just that.

Just that.

But we decided to name our friendly ghost, Linda. I like that. I considered sageing the space, but I decided that so far, Linda hadn't been a true issue. I mean, how bad is a ghost if she's finding your husband's wallet and kindly placing it on your bed for you?

Honestly.

And I really didn't want to piss her off by trying to get rid of her, so I just let it be. We had considered moving, but surprise, I became pregnant and we decided to stay a little while longer and settle into new parent life. Yay. We paved the awful driveway and we were enjoying our little tree house cabin, so why not? Yeah. I understand.

Yeah. He said, I understand. Yeah, he said, I get it. That was really cute. He's like, You know what? Yeah, that makes sense. That was nuts. And if it makes sense to Nicholas, it makes sense to us.

Unfortunately, the room we heard the woman's voice in often was the only suitable place for a nursery. I don't know that you know the definition of suitable.

Okay. It's a choice.

I mean, I guess, what are you going to do? You can't put a baby in the living room.

Well, if it's the only suitable place, what are you going to do?

Hey. I often wonder if we did Evelyn a disservice by putting her in this room, as it seems like she never slept. Was that because of Linda keeping her awake by creeping around, or does my baby just have severe FOMO?

Probably severe FOMO, I feel. Linda doesn't strike me as someone keeping your baby awake.

No, but maybe it wasn't just Linda. Oh. Or maybe it's the FOMO. She hides. Either way, The last major event, quote unquote, in the house happened when my daughter was about five months old. It was Thanksgiving morning and Trustin had went out to hunt with his brother while I stayed home with Evelyn. I was asleep when I heard a loud click and looked at the baby monitor and noticed that the light was on. My sleep-depred brain thought, why in the hell would my husband come home and just go flick Evelyn's light on while she was sleeping?

Yeah.

I'd be pissed. Yeah. But quickly, I realized it had only been 20 minutes since my husband left. So I went in and turned the light off, sent a thanks to God that Evelyn was still sleeping, and then looked at the baby monitor recordings to see if I could figure out what exactly was going on. I had a recording of the room being pitch black and then heard that loud click that woke me up. Her room went from pitch black to bright light as if the light switch has been turned on. Nobody there, though. The light switch just flicked up by itself. The fuck? I immediately went in a panic mode, assuming that somebody had to have done that. So I grabbed my gun and tried to find them. Good for you. But I found no one. I was a little freaked out over the whole situation, and I was overjoyed when my husband finally came home. We eventually decided it was time to move closer to our family. They were about an hour from our house and began the process of selling. We were ready to get a bigger home that could accommodate another kiddo.

But weirdly, after starting to discuss selling the house, I started to experience my phone flying off the shelf over my head and smacking me in the face in the middle of the night. What? This happened multiple times. Then one night I heard, God damn it, and looked over and Tristan's phone was on his face. I said, Is this happening to you, too? Tristan said that it happened multiple times over the last week. I said, Me, too. And we decided Linda was not pleased that we wanted to move. We started to only discuss moving when we were not home, and phones stopped being hurled at us in the middle of the night. Linda, if you love us, you got to let us go.

Oh, Linda.

We finally moved, found a new house, and then surprise again, we were pregnant. Yay. Yeah. And this time we were having twins.

Babies, twins.

So much babies. Surprise of our life. All the babies. Our new house has had zero activity, making me believe that I was not crazy the whole time. And we truly cohabitated with Linda the Ghost for the last five years. Yeah, you did. I think of Linda often, and I miss her even. Even if she was a douche about us moving out and possibly haunting my first born and leaving her with poor sleep habits for life, She never was really out.

It is difficult. It's difficult to leave someone behind.

It is. She never really was out to get us, I think. And I never really found out if something happened at that house or if it was just the land, honey. Honey, the land. Honey, the land. Was it a Cherokee woman or somehow truly an estranged nun? Was she so nice that my rescued pup loved her so much that he would go sit by her drain in the basement? Maybe. And why? Why by the drain? Was she so helpful with my husband's wallet but would bring down her wrath via phone slams to our faces when we wanted to move? Where did she keep the fabric all this time?

These are valid questions.

Anyways, take it away, Ash. Keep it weird, but not so weird that condensation appears on your window in the form of a nun crying and praying. All right, so here's the condensation.

Oh, I see.

But I do see it.

I see the nun.

And then Cassie gave us- The nun does not see me. Oh my God. It actually does.

Wow, it has a whole face.

And like a shroud, or like a, sorry, a It's not it. And look, it does look like they're kneeling. Yeah. We'll have to post this. That's fucking crazy.

And you can see the whole face looking up.

And it looks like they're crying. And it looks like they're crying. Yeah.

Holy shit. We're going to post this. That's actually not. This is the fabric. What a weird fabric. Damn. Strange fabric.

That one was nuts. Oh, and their family is so cute.

Oh, my God. They're adorable.

Look at those babies. Oh. I love them. Oh, and the pups. Oh, look at those pups. The pups are Maylene and Pazzie. Oh, stop it. Pazzie's on the right.

Maylene's on the bottom. Maylene is such a cute name. On the couch.

That was a good one, Cassie. I think you lived in a haunted house.

So that was really good. Yeah. Let's see if I can read. All right.

I hope you can.

So this is called A Classic Haunted House Story. Classic. It's a classic. A classic. And we can read all names in this story and share any and all pictures. Thank you so much. Thank you. Dear Asha and Elaina, my name is Alexi. Thank you for giving me the pronunciation. And I stumbled upon your podcast years ago when COVID made the world stand still, and I suddenly had time to do things like search for interesting podcasts to listen to while walking around my hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota. I have been a huge fanboy from the first listen as I am drawn to all things paranormal, and I appreciate how you both breathe humanity into every single story you all tell. That was so nice. That was really nice. I teach middle and high school English. Hell, yeah. And creative writing, and I love to write poetry, songs, and short stories in my spare time. Hell yeah. What a creative badass. I always appreciate Appreciate good storytelling, which drew me into your pod. And while it is high in entertainment value, you also provide some much needed nutrients for the soul.

We're like chicken soup.

Oh, my goodness. That's nice. Nutrients for the soul, you are.

You are a writer.

I'm a promoter of things I love, so I managed to get my wife, Kate, and my 16-year-old daughter, Pella, hooked on Morbid as well. I love that name.

Oh, it's a family affair. I know Pella is a cool name.

And that's awesome. Our cat, Steak and potato.

I'm obsessed.

Will be fans of the pod one day if you ever decide to make a cat version. Miaoubid?

Miaoubid?

Miaou. I love that. I'm obsessed. Miaoubid? Miaoubid. For as long as I can remember, I've been a supernatural slut. Nicholas is like George was, too.

George was also a supernatural plot.

Magnetized towards anything involving ghosts, the Paranormal, the unex and unsolved mysteries. That show was my fucking shit when I was younger and I've been binging the new version, too. Hell, yeah. Did you also watch that and then rescue911, and are that way because of that.

Rescue 911.

Rescue 911. I think you were too young.

Yeah, I watched Unsolved mysteries.

Rescue 911 was just 911 calls, but they would dramatize them. It changed my life. It was always Unsolved mysteries and then rescue 911. It was really traumatizing, but for two hours, you were just locked in on the most fucked up shit that was going to ruin your sleep that night.

Damn. That lady, Judy, that I used to live with, we would watch Unsolved mysteries all the time. See? She knew it was up.

It actually just gave me a chill right now.

What is the...

I need to look it up. The rescue 911 theme song, I think, might Awaken something in me as well. Did it slap? Let me see.

Oh, yeah. Wow, it's so '80s.

Yeah, that awakened something in me.

That was a good song. Yeah. All right. Supernatural slut.

All right. Supernatural slut. Unsold Mysteries. We love it. We binge it. The unknown terrifies me and intrigues me equally, and thus has threadeded itself throughout my entire life, from being caught talking to invisible entities as an infant, revealing potential hints at past lives as a toddler. I love that. And literally seeing the ghost of a great grandmother I had never met while she was in her body, sitting in her favorite chair that my mom and I inherited.

That's cool as fuck.

On a genealogical deep dive, I discovered that I have relatives who are convicted of murdering lovers and lovers who fell, jumped, or were pushed off a balcony to their death, and then haunted the grounds that witnessed their early demise. There are many experiences I'd love to share from the vault, but the story I chose to share first comes from my awesome Auntie Annie. Auntie Annie.

Auntie Annie. She made pretzels.

She made the best pretzel. It's one of my favorite humans. She's literally the first licensed animal chiropractor in Minnesota. Yes. Okay.

Chiropractice those animals and send me those pretzels.

I heard whispers of Auntie Annie's ghostly encounters from the house down the street when I was young, and I would set my imagination on fire. But it was only recently that I asked her to recount her experiences to me on the record so that I could document what she saw, heard, felt, whatever she remembered. Annie gave me her permission for this story to be shared, and I promise that everything is accurate and true. Thank you for all that you do.

Thank you for all that you do.

It's called Grandma Phoned Her Dafter and the Ghost Responded First, Alexi Muzer. Can I say your whole name? I hope so. You just did. What? What?

He just said, What?

What? Grandma Edi raves three children, survived two husbands, and spent over 50 years of her life in the Dutch colonial College at, I'm going to say Saint Paul Park, Minnesota. I just don't, just in case. This is where I spent my childhood holidays, gathered around a fireplace with loved ones while the It's a Wonderful Life snow gently coded everything outside. I'm there. We shared heoping plates of buttered corn, turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy. The adults would exchange gifts, and then I would take center stage while I tore into my presents pile like Scrooge McDuck diving into his pool of money. I was the only child and only grandchild after all.

Oh, that's nice.

I laughed at grandpa Charlie's dad jokes while climbing his big friendly giant frame like a spider monkey and lived family bonding experiences so rich with joy and unconditional love that my young self could never have comprehended just how fortunate I was to have them or how often I would revisit those fading memories and become overwhelmed with gratitude and love. Alexi. Alexi. Alexi. That was really nice. You are a creative writer. Like, that is, wow.

That was really sweet.

I can smell that. So this is the same neighborhood where Grandma Edie's only daughter, Annie, my aunt, would meet her best friend, Debbie. Debbie, Debbie, Debbie. Debbie lived down the street in the big Pale Blue house at the top of the hill on Summit Avenue that seemed to tower over most of the houses around it. Aside from being a whole level taller than its the decorative flourishes, the stained glass windows, the sheer size of it, set it apart like a deep Southern relic transported to this blue collar, middle class stretch in the Northlands.

Alexi, you better write a book or some shit.

Just paintin' a picture. Built in 1990, the four bedroom house sits on a half acre lot as my parents and I drove by it on the way to the holidays at my grandparents house. My stepdad would always whimsically say, There's the haunted house. And I would stop whatever I was doing and laser focus my eyes on the old building drifting by his window, checking for any sign of spirits from the safety of a moving vehicle. The windows of the house always looked dark, like empty eyes, revealing everything and nothing at once. Every haunted house I had ever encountered in my imagination, books, campfire stories or movies, became this house, and it pinned me to my seating a way that made its power over me feel palpable and not simply a figment of my imagination. Back in the day, the big picture window looking out onto the street would reveal a classic living with an elegant fireplace and library. But today, the overgrown foliage covers many windows on the ground floor, and there's newspaper covering the once-glorious picture window. Oh, that's sad. As if no one should be allowed to see inside the silenced structure with many tales that the walls could tell.

While I have never stepped foot inside the haunted house, my aunt Annie spent many hours, days, and nights there playing with her best friend Debbie when they were teenagers. When I became old enough to work up the nerve to ask her about her paranormal experiences there that they were always hinted at or overheard at family gatherings. These are the stories she shared. Annie and Debbie became friends in seventh grade. They both attended Altman Junior High School in Saint Paul Park and lived only a couple blocks from each other, so they would walk to school together, sometimes stashing contraband in the old ticket booth that they would pass on the way to school. Amazing. That's the coolest small town, old-timey thing I've ever heard. I love it. Debbie lived with her single mother, Sharon, and two older sisters, one of which would move out to attend college shortly after where Annie started coming around, so the home had many more rooms than the family could occupy. The house had a much looser structure than at Grandma Edi and Grandpa Charlie's house. It was there Annie had her first alcohol beverages and explored the freedom that virtually all teenagers seek.

Needless to say, Annie spent a lot of time in that house, and there were some peculiarities that she remembers well to this day. For one, Sharon, Debbie's mom, she would often talk to spirits. This seemed to be commonplace for all who lived there and their guests. Sharon might laugh at a joke that only she could hear or carry on in conversation with an invisible guest, a British man, by all accounts. I love that. Without embarrassment or explanation, Annie accepted it as normal since everyone else seemed to and there was not any perceived malevolence. With the unseen guest. All right. One odd reoccurrence in the house involved a coffee table in the living room. Apparently, if one set their cup of tea or whatever they were sipping down for a moment on the table and carried on with their conversation, at some point the cup would likely just disappear. What? No sound of it moving, no sight of dinnerware floating away, just gone. At some later point in time, someone in the house was exploring a storage room in the attic that was seldom, if ever, used, only to discover a stack of tea cups filled with unzipped beverages, saucers and all.

What the fuck? No explanation was ever given for this phenomenon. Okay. What? Most of the activity in the house happened near the back where Debbie's bedroom was. It was where there the girls spent many hours hanging out and being teenagers. At one point, Annie played a cassette tape in Debbie's room with a recording of Debbie as a little girl singing a funny folk song called Daddy's Whiskers. All right. We have a dear old daddy. His hair is Silver Gray. He has a set of whiskers. They're always in the way. That's adorable. The song ends and the cassette tape winds the blank tape until the side is done. Annie takes the tape out and plays the other side. I'm not sure what they were expecting to hear since they had only been on a recording on Side A. But after a momentary hiss of blank space, a man's voice, gravely, slow, and melancholy begins singing the same song.

No, a man doesn't need to sing that song. We have a dear old daddy.

His hair is silver-gray. He has a set of whiskers.

They're always in the way.

Thank you.

Nailed it.

Same. Some sad soul singing to no one or to whoever would listen. Some might argue that cassette tapes can bleed while recording, meaning that something recorded on one side shows up on the reverse side. If that was the case for this recording, every sound would be the reverse of the original recording, and any sound or word would be played backwards. This was the same song with the same words. But instead of a young girl's voice, it was the disembodied voice of an old man that no one was ever able to identify. I don't like it. That's fucked up in a way I can't describe. Grandma Edi would call Sharon's house when it was time for Annie to come home for dinner. On this particular night, Debbie's older sister, Cathy, was the first to answer her call. Cathy set the phone down and yelled across the house for Annie to take the call and then went back to whatever she was doing. Edi waited patiently for her daughter to answer the phone. Eventually, Annie grabbed the phone in the unhurried and unbothered way that most teenagers respond to a routine call from their parents. I'll be right home, said Annie.

Edi was silent then severe. You get home right now.

Hello?

Annie was confused as to why her mom sounded so serious on the phone. When she walked in the door, her mom interrogated her with a very similar energy. She asked who was at the house, specifically if there was any men there. Annie informed her mom that there was no men in the house. Edi doubled down, giving her a final opportunity to tell her the truth or face the wrath of God.

Not jawed.

Not jawed. With no reason to lie, Annie again told Edi that the only people in the house were female. Her, Debbie, and Debbie's mom, Sharon. Sensing that her daughter was being truthful, Edi's body relaxed slightly and her tone shifted from accusatory to fearful, clutching Annie tightly as if she were in danger. Apparently in the blank space between Cathy setting the phone down and Annie answering, a man's voice spoke sharply into the phone. I'll be right home. Clear as day. The exact same words that Annie would say into the phone just seconds later.

Oh, it's weird that she hadn't even said that yet.

And a man saying, I'll be right home. I'd be like, No, the fuck you won't. No. No men were in the house, and again, no explanation was ever satisfactorily accepted to dismiss this incident. One evening, the girls were playing with the Ouija board in the front room on the couch with a grand staircase at one end, the fireplace roaring and crackling behind them, and a big archway into the dining room on the other side. Iconic. They asked the spirits if so and so liked them in the classic Ouija board ask, and whatever else 13-year-old girls might wonder about. And another, quote, dumb questions about boys, as Auntie told me. The board kept responding with, Annie, don't be an asshole. Annie remembers being shocked to be addressed with the type of language because that word was not in their vocabulary, even as rimbunctuous teenagers. Every question they asked the spirit was met with, Annie, don't be an asshole. Oh my God. The tension built with each response, and Annie got very upset, and she started getting smart with it, taunting whoever it was that would talk that way to a young person. The spirit did not react kindly.

The coffee table that the boards was set upon had a wooden decorative border, like a tiny fence with intricate carved details. After Annie had prodded whoever or whatever it was that was spelling curse words at her, the planchette that the girls' fingers had been on flew out from under their hands with such force and speed that it exploded through the wooden border on the table, startling the girls into a stunned and speechless silence. Bier quickly said over them. What the fuck? The girls' eyes, wide as saucers, looked up at each other, and then Annie noticed that the smoke from the fireplace had reversed course and was now pouring into the living room, and the air became cold. Which Why would that even happen? That was like the flu closing. Sharon heard the commotion and came running into the room. Once she gathered what had happened, she began immediately apologizing to no one, to the smoke, to the spirit that was now upset, begging for forgiveness. Slow the the smoke cleared and the room returned as it was. Holy shit. That was the last time they play with the Ouija board and the last episode that Annie recalls from her time at the haunted house.

Today, the house is vacant. Newspaper covering the once-glorious big picture window. To this day, all these years later, I cannot drive past the house without slowing down, turning down the music, and peering into the dark empty windows, searching for a sign, searching for answers, anything. And this is a picture of the house, and it is a beautiful house, but it's spooky. It's a big ass house. It is very spooky.

The Peace Garden. Oh my God, I love them.

Steak and potato.

Oh my God, I love them. Oh, look at this gorgeous family.

Okay, you're all gorge. You're very pretty people. Holy shit. And your child is like spitting image of both of you. I was going to say. I can't tell who more. Wow. Alexi. Dang.

Holy That was a spooky-ass story, Alexi.

That was spooky as hell. And it brought so much Nicholas out. It did bring a lot of Nicholas out. Damn. I can't get over the teacups.

I know. Just the fact that they found them later.

That they just would disappear and then they find a pile of them in a room that's not really used.

I would be so mad, though, because do you think they would be moldy? Yeah, they will. Like the liquid inside.

And then it gets to a point where it's just you can't clean it. You know. Yeah. You just got to get rid of it. You don't want to throw in a teacup.

That wasn't the time where people threw things away, I feel.

No. All right.

This next one is His listener tales, I babysat at the S. K. Pierce mansion. The S. K.

pierce mansion. What?

All right. Back in 2001, my English class assigned all the students the project of looking up gardener history in the area that we each lived in. Growing up in South Garner, my group jumped at the opportunity to see if we could get into the newly purchased, spooky, Victorian house. Hell, yeah. The S. K. Pierce mansion. Having passed by it almost every day of my life, it was so exciting to see somebody finally take care of the beautiful building that had been so overgrown with vegetation for years. My parents also grew up in Garner, and they too were excited that this historic building was finally getting another chance. I can't remember exactly how we got in touch with the owners, but it's quite possible my awesome mom just drove our group down to the mansion and said, Well, knock on the door and ask. Why not? The owners were so welcoming, and we arranged a time to take a video camera through the property. Mark explained that while there was some roof damage that affected the front turret spaces, all the rest of the house needed was a good dusting. And lucky enough, there was extra of the original wood used in the initial build and the third floor attic space.

That's cool. That's badass. It never happens. Yeah.

He took us through all the floors, including the top little tower, which we didn't go in last night.

I know. We didn't go with Sam and Kolby. We went with Sabrina and Corinne. So back we go to the tower.

I love the S. K. Pierce mansion. Me too.

And the people who bought it. The people who bought it are sick. A plus.

Go try to get a tour there. I think they're trying to turn it into a BnB, right?

Yeah. And follow their TikTok account because they're doing a lot on there now and giving a lot of investigation content. So go follow them. They're awesome. They're just nice people.

We love them.

We love them a lot.

So there was a cast iron safe on the second floor that was also original because nobody could figure out how to move it. I know what you're thinking. It's empty. Womp, womp. The only space we did not go was the basement. I went there.

That's right. I went there.

Fun fact, S. K. Pierce had a tunnel built that led from his house under the railroad that used to follow along West Broadway over to his factory. Don't laugh at me.

No, because I had the same thing. I was like, I'm not alone.

It has since been sealed.

It has.

And people think it's a portal. Now to the good stuff. Due to that project, my parents became good friends with the new owners, where we once attended a Halloween party and my parents even attended their wedding on the property. Wow. Eventually, my cousin and I were asked to babysit their two children. I'm going to be changing the names to Kyle and Sarah. They were around 8 and ten. For privacy, even though they're adults now, that's why I changed their names. I'm reading this so weird.

I did the same thing.

I don't know what's happening.

I don't know why punctuation meant nothing to me.

I'm throwing it all to the wind. I did. I said, Fuck punctuation.

Me too.

My cousin Ashley and I agreed that we would take turns babysitting the kids over the summer, alternating weeks so that we didn't lose our whole summer to babysitting. That's smart. It's the middle of a team up. There were a few rules, obviously. No going in the basement or the third floor and above. No playing with the dumb waiter system. If we thought we experienced any haunting type situations, we needed to tell them. If we were playing hide and seek and we couldn't find Kyle, look in the hidden panel where they used to keep the blocks of ice before panicking.

Wow. All right. I thought you were going to say if you... One of the rules was if you experience a haunting, you better videotape it.

If you experience a haunting, just run out of there.

Come with receipts and show me it.

So we only had one request. If they ever asked us to babysit at night, they would have to pay the both of us. Yeah.

So here we Of course, there was a lightning storm on that night.

The kids were supposed to be in bed since it was after their bedtime, and Ashley and I were watching something in the living room when Kyle came downstairs. We asked if everything was okay. It was. And we told him, Okay, go back to bed. A little while later, we felt like someone was watching us, and we realized Kyle's back. What the fuck is up, Kyle? What are you doing, Kyle? Parents repeat a few times on go to bed, and we're now annoyed. Not to mention, it's just creepy when you're sitting in a dark house and a small child is lurking in the shadows.

Tell me about it.

I know. You have that nightly occurrence. I need to pause here to explain some anatomy of the house. There are two staircase places, the grand staircase in the middle of the structure and what was the servant staircase off of the kitchen. When looking at the front of the house, they use the front right room as the living room. That's not what I would have assumed.

That's what we were wondering.

I figured that would be like, I thought it would be the back room, like the parlor. That would be a formal. Yeah. I thought the one that they were using as a living room would be a formal sitting area.

Yeah, because the other one is the lady's sitting room.

I just wonder where they have the TV. Me too. Tali. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. So a lot of They used the front right room as the living room and the front left room as the gift shop, mostly Victorian-era items, as Suzanne was from England. It was not a spooky gift shop. The kitchen was the back left room and the dining room was the back right.

Interesting. That is interesting because it's- The dining room makes sense, but the kitchen is because the kitchen is- Right when you walk into the left.

I wonder if they moved it, though. I think- Me? I think you're right. I think I remember them saying something about that. Kyle's room was above the kitchen at the top of the servant stairs. We were told this used to be the baby's room. Which baby? No idea. The baby.

The baby. Don't worry about it.

Then connected to that room via a very tiny hall was Sarah's room, which we... Yeah, I can picture it. We were told traditionally was the room of the caretaker of the child, hence the little connection hallway. The baby. So Back to the night it happened. The final time Kyle came down, we stood up and he bolted back up the servant stairs to his room with us following closely behind. We were calling out a combination of things like, Go to bed. Stop messing around. As we're going up the stairs, we hear his door slam. We get to the top of the stairs and one of us tries to open the door, but nothing. Now, this is an old Victorian door knob. There's no locks on this door. So we try to push a little harder. Nothing. Kyle, stop messing around. You could get hurt. Let us open the door. Kyle, I'm not touching the Ashley and I look at each other confused, and we both start to try to push and bump against the door, but nothing. Kyle, what did you put in front of the door? Kyle, nothing. I'm not touching the door.

Because you do have to be really specific with that because he's like, I'm not touching the door. What did you put in front of the door? I'm not touching you. I'm not touching it.

So okay, I've had enough. I walk through Sarah's room, which takes me about five seconds to get in Kyle's room, and I just see him standing in the middle of the room looking at the door. There's nothing in front of it. And this kid is 30 pounds, soaking wet. So he wasn't blocking two teenage girls from muscling open a door. I walk open to the door and it just opens. It just opens. There isn't even the sticking of the door frame when it gets super hot in the summer. It just opens.

I fully believe. After being in that house, I'm going to believe anything you tell me. So.

Weird shit happens in that house. Ashley and I look at each other with large eyes and say in our most stern voices, Kyle, go to bed. We I've come to the conclusion that our chasing him up the stairs startled a protective spirit, and in an attempt to protect him, they blocked us from opening the door. Now, this might not seem like a big deal, but I'm telling you, at one point, both of us were body slamming the door and it wasn't moving. We never went up the servant staircase again.

Can't say I blame you.

Overall, I loved being in that house. I've always been super sensitive to spiritual energy. And to be honest, the only thing that ever creeped me out were the clown paintings in the storage room on the third floor. Yes, clown paintings. Also, I wonder which room was the storage room because if it was the very back room, there's another reason why that room creeped you out.

Yeah, I bet it was that one.

Bad vibes in that room. I noped right out of that room. After the owner sold it and multiple new owners came in, I feel like they really tried to ride the haunted aspects. And as you both mentioned in the episode, it created a more of a magnet for negative spirits to join the party. And also some people, we won't say who, but some people went against instructions.

Yeah, That were left. Somebody that is famous. Like a famous person. Apparently.

Was told not to use a Ouija board.

Yeah, it's like a rule. It's a rule. They ask you. Yeah. Like Lizzie Borden house won't allow Ouija boards anymore.

Because they create like portals and shit.

Well, and it's also just important. It's not your house. If you're going in there and they say, this is a rule of the house, don't bring a fucking Ouija board. And somebody did who's famous. Pretty famous. Pretty famous. And they think they created a fucking portal that fucked up the vibes.

And that person is not welcome back. No. So I hope that you would literally never guess. But we can't say it. Yeah. So. That was fucked up. Hope this tale entertains you and makes you think about the relationships that we all have with our houses. Yeah. I now live in a house built in 1910 for overflow servant staff of a mansion up the street that I work in. And you better believe I tell the house, Have a good day. Hell, yeah. Every time I leave. Keep the positive energy flowing. I don't know if we're supposed to say your name or not. Oh, no.

It didn't say. It didn't say.

I'll just say N. Yeah, N. Shout out to my college roommate, M, for introducing me to your podcast during the pandemic. You had me on the Wizard of All episode. Yes. Keep it weird, but not so weird. That take it away, Ash, you babysit at the Escape Here's Manchin Hotel in a what the fuck is up, Kyle. Child just comes popping into the room and you have to chase him up the servant stairs. And then he's locked in his room and you're like, why are you locked in your room? What did you put in front of the door? And he's like, I didn't put anything in front of the door. And you're like, what did you put in front of the door? And then you're like, wait, there's a hallway that I can go through. And you go through the hallway and then you just see that random kid. Well, the kid that you know standing there and there's nothing in front of the door. And then the door just opens and whoa, ghosts. That might be one of my best.

That was really good. Thank you. You didn't stumble at all. I didn't. No. So if you want to see, by the way, because we were mentioning how we were there with Sam and Colby and Sabrina and Corinne, we filmed the one with Sam and Colby on their channel. So go check out the Sam and Colby YouTube channel. It's on there. It was really fun. It was towards the end of the year. It was in December, right? I think it was their last video. Yeah, it was their last video of the year.

Last week of the year.

It's a really fun one. Turned out to be a crazy video. It's really fun to watch, so definitely check it out. And we did obviously an episode about it where we talked to Sam and Kolby about it. We've done a few episodes. And then if you want to book a tour there or whatever it is, and even people are going and investigating there more.

They are, yeah.

We'll link it in the show notes.

If you go, check out the wall. We signed it.

Yeah, we did. In the kitchen. Yep, we sure did. All right. Is Nicolas still on? He is. He's being so quiet again. Weird.

Maybe he felt silenced. I was like, why is he? Watch out, Mikey. Yeah.

The last one we're going to do today is called The Day Danny Disappeared. Not Danny. That's ominous. It is. What an ominous name. It is. Hello, lovely ladies. My name is Amber. Amber. Amber. And I've been a listener for a few years now. I love the podcast and especially look forward to Listener tales. I always hoped to someday I have a tale that was worthy of sending in. Finally, I have one.

And it's about the disappearance of a young lad.

Thank you for disappearing, Danny. I have been meaning to write in for months. Ever since my mother-in-law and I bonded over a family ghost story on a snowy Christmas Eve. Goals. What a beautiful relationship, Stata. Goals. Now I'm finally sitting here while my sourdough is in the oven writing a ghost story that I honestly wouldn't have believed from anyone else. I titled this story The Day Danny Disappeared, and it has been discussed so much in my husband's family that they even typed up a document detailing the incidents and shared it with Dan. This is legit. That family sounds awesome. I know. In this tale, all names have been changed, so don't worry about sharing names. Also, just for funsies, I've included a picture of my adorable Well, Dogos on St. Patty's Day because, well, they are the best doofuses around and will hopefully make you smile. I love a doofussy dog. I love that. Dingoes and doofuses dogs forever. All the lifelong day. I have included a 14 point double space put-up. Feel free to share the included pictures of my dogs, if you wish. I also shared a picture of where the tail takes place, but that picture probably shouldn't be shared just to be safe.

We got you. So without further ado, I will share the story of how Danny disappeared. Our story began in the winter of 1967, when the Birch family moved into a house on Mohican, thank you, Avenue, in a small Ohio town. John and Jane Birch raised four children in this house, two girls, Betty and Beth, and two boys, Brad and Tim.

I bet Tim felt left out, truly.

When they first moved in, the younger children.

Betty, Beth, and Brad, and Tim.

And Tim.

This is Betty, and Beth, and Brad, and Tim.

I love it. I love it. When they first moved in, the younger children. I was just about to say they should have named them Ben. You know why? Because my brain keeps going back to the Skyler Sisters in Hamilton, and they're like, The Skyler Sisters, and they say their names, and she's like, And Peggy. That's all I think of.

I was laughing because I just thought they should have named him Bim.

When they first moved in, the younger children started to notice things right away. The most active place was their attic, which was a play room for the kids. The kids would start, would hear whistling and playing around the house at night when everyone was supposed to be asleep. Sometimes, Mrs. Birch would hear running up and down the stairs throughout the night, and she would yell that the kids needed to go to bed, but all the children were sleeping soundly. I hate that. She would also wake up in the mornings to the bottom cabinets being all open during the night as though a child had left them all open.

Eew. No, that just gave me shiva, shiva, shivas. It always makes me think of the Sixth Sense.

I know me, too. It makes me think of the Sixth Sense in Paranormal Activity.

I got so many shivers.

The Sixth Sense, though.

Oh, fuck. I got to start picturing it. I hate that scene.

His hands on the table.

I hate that scene.

Often they would hear trucks going back and forth across the floor, and they would hear the Hot Wheel's track being played upstairs. That's adorable. The family would hear a child giggling and marbles being rolled across the floor of the attic, even though none of the toys upstairs were marbles.

Someone's just having the time of their GD death.

And just their GD afterlife. And they're just conjuring marbles. The family assumed that there was a child ghost in the new home but felt no fear. So they eventually started to consider him just part of the house. That's a great family vibe. That is a good vibe. Little Betty's room was at the top of the stairs with their door opening into the hallway to the attic. Several times, Betty would see the attic door open and close, just enough for a small child to peek their head through. That's not cute. That's ugly. Betty would yell downstairs to her mom, The ghost is watching me. To which her mom would say, Tell him it's time to go to bed.

That's mom shit, right?

Betty would then tell the ghost to go to bed, to which he appeared to go upstairs, and they would hear him playing with the toys in the attic the rest of the night. So he wasn't going to bed. He's like, You're no fun. You're not my mom. There was one night when Betty was sleeping in the attic, she woke up to a small boy poking her arm with his finger. We said that so casual.

Yeah, we said that. We said that with just like it was another sentence.

She fell asleep in the attic. She woke up. She woke up, little boy just poking her. You just said that. You just said that. She couldn't see him clearly in the dark, but she wasn't afraid of him, and she just went back to sleep.

Kids are wild. Wow. That's like what I would see a ghost shit all the time in your room, and I just go back to sleep. Nighty night.

The youngest son, Tim, started to grow more interested in the ghost. He would. Yeah.

Maybe the ghost's name starts with a T.

Tim eventually got the ghost to talk to him. When Tim was seven He was 10 years old, he told the family about having a conversation with the ghost. Tim had gone upstairs to use the bathroom when he noticed that the attic door was open. He was curious, so he sat on the steps and started talking to the ghost. The ghost told Tim that his name was Danny. So not Danny. Tim told his parents It's not. Tim told, and not Bammy. And not Bammy. He was like, oh, my God.

He was like, we have this in common.

Tim told his parents about talking to the little boy upstairs. When his parents asked how the little boy looked, Tim said he looked like he was very little, about the size of Alan, his four-year-old cousin. This verified what the family thought about the ghost, that he was, in fact, a little boy. From then on, they called the Ghost Danny. What do you do? Very respectful.

How do you just go about the rest of your day knowing that a four-year-old ghost boy lives in your house?

Because I'd also I'd be worried about him. I'd be like, Can I... Do you need to brush your teeth? Do you need to do things that four-year-olds need to do? What can I do to take care of you? Yeah. Now, as the years went by, they continued to have experiences with Danny. Even their friends who stayed the night would report spooky occurrences, including Betty's friend seeing a little boy standing on the stairs on the second floor, clear as day, until he turned and ran up the stairs. When Betty's friend ran downstairs to tell Mrs. Birch what she saw, Mrs. Birch laughed and assured her that it was just their harmless little boy ghost, Danny.

She's like, We got a lot of kids. One of them's dead.

She's like, It's cool, man. One of them's dead. After about a decade, when Tim was about 17 years old, he decided to try to get Danny talking on a recorder, pre iPhone, of course. Since Tim felt he had a connection with Danny, he thought he could get him to talk. He went to the attic with a recorder and started the recording while asking a few questions. Finally, when he asked, What is your name? The ghost replied, Be quiet. Secret. Tim asked, Is your name Danny? And the ghost answered, Don't say that.

Which is like such a little boy response because his name is probably not Danny.

You know what I mean? Yeah, like that's not my name. Stop calling me that. Maybe it is. On the recording, they were able to hear the ghostly voice and share it with the rest of the family, which further validated that this ghost was a little boy named Danny. Or maybe not.

Maybe not named Danny. Or maybe like, he's like, no, shut up. I'm like, mysterious.

Yeah. He's like, That's not my name.

That's not my name. You call me Danny, but I am Tani. I am Bani. Maybe I'm Bane. It's not the same. That's not my name.

What is wrong with us? I imagine you're wondering, I thought this was a story about when Danny disappeared. Oh, right. Well, dear listener, we're about to get to that part. Okay. As mentioned previously, Tim and the Birch family lived in a very small town where everyone knows everyone. When the previous owner of their home, Mr. Smith, passed away, they attended the funeral to pay their respects. As the Birch family read the obituary, they noticed the names of Mr. Smith's children. One thing caught their attention. Mr. Smith had a child who passed away at the age of four years old in the 1950s. The Birch family was shocked to find out that this child's name was Danny.

So they just had weird intuition.

What the fuck? In 1956, Danny Smith was a sweet little boy who went with his mom and dad to deliver cookies to his neighbor. Danny somehow slipped away from his father and ran into the street. Sadly, Danny was hit by a car and was killed. According to the Smith family, losing Danny broke Mr Smith's heart, and for the rest of his life, Mr Smith blamed himself for the death of his son. Oh, it's awful. As you can imagine, the Birch family was very surprised with this revelation, and specifically, Tim was eager to speak with Danny if he could, now that he knew the story of his death. After the Birch family returned from the funeral of Danny's father, Tim went upstairs to the attic to find Danny. To his surprise, Tim could not find Danny anywhere. Tim came downstairs to his family and announced he's gone. From that moment on, the family never had any other experience with Danny. That is the day Danny disappeared.

But it's like the day of his father's funeral. Maybe he was waiting for him. He was, I bet. His dad went back and got him. He was like, we're going somewhere else, babe.

Yeah, let's go. Now we will fast forward to how this story was brought back to my husband's family, the Smith family. Many years passed after Danny left the house on Mahican Avenue, and eventually Danny's sister, Martha Smith was at a gathering where we started talking to Mrs. Birch. Martha really wanted to ask Mrs. Birch about going to visit her old childhood home, but was not sure how to bring it up. As Martha talked to Mrs. Birch about the house, Mrs. Birch mentioned strange things that happened. To that, Martha laughed and said, Well, yes, I know that basement flooded after you moved in. Mrs. Birch then proceeded to explain the story of their little ghost to Martha, including the day Danny disappeared after his father's funeral. Mrs. Birch also told Martha that later, When they renovated the attic, they found a jar of marbles hidden in the wall that they believed were Danny's. Martha was shocked to hear this spooky, heartwarming story about her late brother. As Martha took in all the details, she felt a sense of peace knowing that her brother was a happy child, even after death, and that her father had carried Danny to the afterlife.

This is the most beautiful ghost story I have ever read.

Martha shared the story of Danny with her siblings and her cousins in the Smith family. Hopefully now this story will also be shared with others as a story about a little boy who loved his father and a father that was able to reunite with his beloved boy at the end.

I'm obsessed.

I am going to cry. And I love your dogs. Holy shit, those dogs are the case of I've ever seen.

I really wish that Dolores would wear a bandana. Wow. Dolo does not fuck with a bandana. That was wild. That really was.

That story was absolutely gorgeous.

It was beautiful.

Like, truly gorgeous. It was really beautiful. I'm going in your name is Amber. I knew that, but I didn't want to get it wrong. Amber. Amber. Amber. That was a beautiful haunted house story. I love. Even Nicholas stayed quiet for that.

I was waiting for him to be like, Shut the fuck up.

That's stupid. Dumb. Die. Whoa. I never know. Wow. Above. Whoa.

Oh, my gosh, guys. I love listener calls. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. What was the first... What was the weird thing I said? Maintend. Oh my gosh, Maintend. Maintend. I hope you guys have been comfy Queens and Kings and whatever else. And I hope that you cracked open an Olliepop or a Dr. Pepper.

An Olliepop or a Dr. Pepper. Sponsor us. And that you keep listening. And we hope you... Keep it weird. But not so weird that you don't have a maintained driveway the ghost in your house that cries like a nun, but dogs are happy to be there, and you babysit at the S. K. Pierce mansion, and Danny disappears, and, and, and. Annie's house, Annie's friend's house, Debbie, don't keep it as weird as that house kept it. Yeah.

But maybe, too, because that house was full of chips. Specifically, don't cry like a nun. Don't cry like a nun. Don't cry like a nun.

Don't do it.

Don't cry like a nun. Bye.

Hey, weirdos, I'm Ash. I'm Haleena. And this is haunted. Do you know? Wait, that's the wrong I was like, who is that bitch? Get her out of here.

Who is that?

What is your name?

You, Nicole.

Get out of here. Okay, we don't have to go after Nicole. Where's Nicholas? Nicholas.

Oh, my God. That was so off-putting. Nico. She was like, hey, girl.

We heard Nicholas in the closet the other day. Remember?

In the closet?

You don't remember the other day when three different noises came from the closet?

Oh, yeah. I thought you meant his voice. I thought you meant his voice. I was like, what? I was like, I was not there for that.

I was like, girl, you don't remember The Closet. The Closet.

Yeah, it's fine. What's my name?

What? What's your name? Give it back, my leg. Actually, your leg. Put that in the outtakes. Wait a fucking second.

Wait a fucking second. Are you kidding me? That is so scary. I don't even know. I'm so upset. Nikola is fine now. I'm going to see you. I'm sorry. I don't want to be perceived. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.

I don't know why that got to me. I don't know why that got to me. I'm so stressed. Call him.

I told him. All right. Ax.

He talks about axes frequently.

He does, man. You got ax.

You got an ax. You got an ax.

I do not have an ax body spray.

But do you have an ax? We do. Why?

You don't?

No. Not that I know of.

To chop.

I don't frequently chop, but I don't think Drew does either. To be roast from the afterlife like that is crazy. You know what? Let me confirm that I don't have do an ax because now I feel weird. Text my hottest to me. What do you want to say to my hottest to me? Do we have an ax? I'm being bullied from the afterlife? He's going to be like, What the fuck are you talking about? Anyway, I'm moving on. It was so mean. Pathetic. He was like, Oh.

He's like, You don't...

Film. We are filming.

Girl. Yeah, man. He's like, Get back to work. Yeah, he's like, Film. Stop texting. What did he say? I'm leaving.

You're leaving?

What did he say? What did he say?

He said, It's hard.

I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. Oh, no. It's not funny, I think. I don't know. We're all very uncomfortable.

Enraged. Enraged twice?

Are you okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Nicholas. We're not laughing at your- Did he say enraged twice? He said it twice.

And, Nicholas, we're not laughing at you.

We're not laughing at you. We're just very uncomfortable. And I laugh at funerals, and it's not because I think they're funny. It's because I'm very uncomfortable. Please don't be mad. Maybe he's just taking a second. Maybe he's just taking a second.

I don't know. He left in a fit of rage. He called us twice. He called us Are you?

This feels like a haunted house interactive experience.

No, it truly does. But this is your house, bitch. You live here. I don't have to. Okay, Nicholas. Fuck.

Um, okay.

I'm scared. Where are you?

I'm Ash. I'm Elaina.

And this is Morbid. We got Aiden on the ones and twos. He won't leave. He won't leave. Wait.

I'm sorry. Oh, is it because Aiden is not normally here?

He says Aiden, our cameraman cousin social media guy. Yeah.

Can I say your whole name? I hope so. You just did. What? What? What did he...

He just said, What? What? What? Why did you... It's not for you.

It's not for you. What? Can you beep out his- Yeah, beep out his name. Because Nicolas said so. He was very concerned about his sore. Yeah, he's sore about it. So we're going to- Okay. Yeah, I get it. Okay. Leave it in the part where he advocates for him, though. Yeah.

So I'm very pleased.

Trying to get you a good rep, man. He said that that goes against my reputation, helping someone.

Leave it in the part where he... No, thanks. Okay. Okey dokey.

He said, Fuck that.