Date: Mon, 13 Feb 1995 13:45:48 -0600
From: Matthew Reed Mreed00@pop.uky.edu
Subject: A Haunted Night In Scotland
I just recently joined this group and thought an introduction and a short story about my own "encounters" might be justified. I am 27 and live in Lexington, Kentucky. I work for the University of Kentucky College of Dentistry. I am fascinated by many of the mysteries our world holds. I have been reading your posts for the past few days and I must admit I have had similar experiences as many of you but my most profound experience is below. I hope you enjoy reading about my experience.
It was the summer of 1978, I was 10 years old and about to embark on the journey of a lifetime (at least to a 10 year old). My mother was taking me, my older brother Eric, and my father to Scotland to visit her pen pal from her youth. We were all very excited to be crossing the ocean.
My mother has always been fascinated with all things occult. I can't count the number of times that my mother and I (My father and brother didn't have the patience to go) would pack up and fly off somewhere to spend the weekend in a "haunted" house. Never did we see, sense, or hear anything. But my mother’s quest to find a real supernatural experience had never died.
Back to the trip
We arrived at Prestwick airport (which is now a cargo and local airport only) and my mother and her pen pal were able to meet for the first time in over twenty years of communicating by phone and letter. It was a nice day. During that evening my mother and Eileen somehow got onto the subject of the supernatural, specifically ghosts. My mom told Eileen all about how we had searched and searched for a ghost and never found one. At this Eileen paused, and then told us about her grandmother’s house about four hours from where we were. It seems her grandmother’s house is VERY haunted. She told us that not a week goes by that they don't hear or see something. Anything from furniture being rearranged (this seems to be a favorite pastime of their ghost) to apparitions.
The story that really got my mother, however, was this: One afternoon while Eileen’s grandmother was watching TV, her son came home. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, looked in at his mother and said something along the lines of "Hey mom, I'm going to take a nap. I love you." and went up the stairs to his room. About 15 minutes later the phone rang. It was the police calling to inform her that her son had been killed in a car accident about 45 minutes ago. That's all it took. Our bags were packed and the entire family, including the Kirks, were off to grandma’s house.
For brevities sake I'll skip a lot here. Eileen and her family were given a room to sleep in, and we were put in another. It is necessary here that I describe the room we were in. It was a basic square room, the unique thing was the bed. It was monstrous. It filled the entire room. The headboard was huge and thick and intricately carved. There was a three foot wide walk space that extended along the foot of the bed and the right hand side of the bed (if you were facing the foot of the bed). At the head of the bed, there was a small night table with a lamp. My mother slept at the head of the bed by the lamp, my father beside her. My brother slept with his head at the foot of the bed on my mother’s side and I did the same on my father’s side, by the wall.
At about 3:00 in the morning all four of us sat up in the bed and looked at each other. There was a chill in the air as well as a feeling of trepidation. I reached over and turned on the light. As I was reaching for the lamp it occurred to me what was wrong. The light came on at the flick of the switch and the mystery was reveled. The bed had been completely turned around in the room. The headboard was now up against the door. We all sat there and looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity trying to grasp the situation. After a while I think we all just gave up. We got out of bed and had to yell for someone to help us. You see it was impossible to turn the bed around in the small room. We had to have tools handed to us through the door so we could take the bed apart and stack it against the wall.
I will never forget this experience as long as I live: the feeling in the room when we woke up, the chill that went down my spine as the light came on, then the realization that the bed had been picked up and turned around, with four people sleeping in it, without waking any of us. Let alone the fact that whatever had turned the bed, had to warp space somehow in order to do it. The power of what ever did this, was truly humbling. Needless to say, we left at about 4:30am, and my mother’s quest for a supernatural experience died.
My family won't talk about it now. It seems to be a taboo subject. I think it just scared them all too bad. As for me, well I look back on that night quite often trying to figure out why this entity would choose to turn the bed. I mean, if it's that powerful (which it obviously is), why would it choose to do what it did, when it did? Maybe it was because my mother so desperately wanted something to happen. I don't know. I do know that I would welcome another encounter. This was by far the most exciting experience I have ever had.
I hope you enjoyed reading this. If you have any questions or comments please feel free to contact me via e-mail at Mreed00@pop.uky.edu or just post to the list.