In honor of the ghoulish season I thought I would share my haunted legacy that started with my Grandparents. In the summer of 1968 Burnice Ashbrook, his wife Claudie and their four daughters moved into a white two story house not far from the town square of Gilmer, TX. The house had been built in the 1800's and was eventually left to the builder's daughter upon his death. The daughter never married but did have a female roommate. Both women lived out their lives in the house.
Claudie Ashbrook has told of one occasion when she was doing laundry and heard a car door shut outside followed by feet ascending the stairs. She says the front door opened and the footsteps continued to come closer until they were behind her. She turned expecting to greet her husband and found no one was there. On a separate occasion she claims to have been visited in her bedroom while she rested one afternoon. The person told her to move her bedroom or she would die. Before Burnice got home that evening all the bedroom furniture had been switched with the far living room.
The Ashbrook daughters reported hearing sounds in the attic that were attributed to rats. They observed no other activity. One daughter even made the attic her room and never had any experiences.
Burnice was a man that loved to tinker with everything. He made several changes to the house while he lived there. Creating walls where there were none, boarding up doors. His departure from the house came in the early 1990's when he and his second wife moved to Arkansas. Burnice was convinced that staying in the house would ensure his death. Ironically the house is situated next door to a very prosperous funeral home.
The house stayed in the family with various relatives living in it at different times. There was very little activity other than just giving people the creeps in general until the summer of 1996. During her divorce Beverly Conroy, formerly Ashbr, moved into the house with her daughter. (who is me by the way) I experienced several disturbing events, some of which were witnessed by others.
First there were the music boxes. My mother collected carousel horses and several that played songs. These musical figures were lined up along furniture around the room. Being a teenager I spent a great deal of time on the phone with my friends. The only place to make a private call was in Mom's room. The music boxes had a bad habit of playing by themselves when i was alone with them. It was never one but more like five that would begin to play one at a time. They never interrupted each other. This became a common occurrence.
Another incident involved the remote control. I was sitting in the living room watching TV when the remote shot off the couch onto the floor where it continued to glide across to the front of the entertainment center. I left it there and fled to my room.
My room was on the side of the house the porch wraps around. It was a nice night so I had my windows opened. On the porch was an old rocking chair that had been a permanent fixture for as long as I could remember. I heard the creaking of the rocker first and then the humming began. Terrified I sat on my bed nest to that opened window and silently cried hugging my pillow. My mother came bursting in my room wanting to know why I had the radio up so loud. First of all my mother is considered deaf. She has a significant hearing loss in one ear and profound hearing loss in the other ear. Her TV was always turned up very loud and still she heard this music coming from my room. Now what I was hearing was very soft and feminine. Three times Mom went outside to investigate and all three times found nothing.
The last incident I had was scratching on the walls on the bathroom. I began to cry, again and pleaded for whatever it was to please go away. It did. We moved out less than four months later.
Believe me of don't but that is my story.
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