When I was 8 we moved back to the side of town I loved the most. We had to move cause my brother was going to be born soon. I had to change schools again but at least it was to a school I had been to before and I knew the area a little. I still had friends in that area that I was happy to be close to again. One of those friends was Lisa, I knew she was different (Downs Syndrome), but being eight I didn't understand how. I really didn't care cause she was fun to be around, I just thought she was slow in the head. Which I didn't mind, I thought that about myself also.
This new house was on W. Broadway of Bangor, Me. We lived on the 3rd floor, like an attic that had been converted to an apartment. It was cool place. The weirdest thing though was that it had a stair case that went down into somebodies closet (clothes still hanging) with 2 doors and both were always locked. I had many a good time in there playing with someone elses clothes, but who's clothes were they?
Back to my story...
I would after school (nearly everyday), walk to Lisa's house. It was only about 8 blocks from our house. My parents would always tell me to walk on the sidewalks, never in the street or on some one's grass. In order to do this I had to make like a zigzag. My side of the street only had sidewalks for 2 blocks, go to the other side and cross the busy road and down some more.
(Click for larger view)
Well there was this house that had such a scary and eerie feeling to it that I would purposely break my parents rule and cross the street and walk on somebodies grass.
I would never take my eyes off the house, It was as if I was in a trace or something.
I even remember after not being able to turn my head any farther I literally walked backwards.
I would go past this house in such a panic that witches were going to come out and grab me and cook me for dinner.
My heart would be racing and I could hear my pulse in my ears.
All of us children back then believed it to be a witches house.
There was no curtains on the windows and the inside, was as dark as if it were night time. The paint was peeling off of the boards, some of the windows were broken and the lawn was eerie in itself.
Looked like the perfect place for a witch to hide, to jump out on passing children.
One day on my trek to Lisa's house, as I was not taking my eyes off of the house...
I saw a old lady standing in the second floor window, just enough to see that she had grey hair and it was pulled up into a soft bun with wisps flowing around her face. She was wearing a white puffy blouse and a something dark was around her waist.
As soon as I saw her and she me, she was gone.
If she had stepped backwards I might have not been so scared, but NO she just vanished.
I ran home (instead of Lisa's) so scared that I was crying. I was running so fast I remember my feet kicking me in the butt.
We moved shortly after that, but not because of that.
Now, I told Spot this post was going to be about her (and my hubbies) favorite author's house, but in doing research for this post I learned that he did not live there yet. So I decided to leave his name out of the post. He did not buy the place till 80'. And believe me it was no where near as pretty as it is today! Here are the pics I promised Spot. They are not great. (We were up there vising my grandparents and I was yaking with grammie who I hadn't seen in years)I wasn't all that interested in the place (do to my experience) as much as hubby was!
The house at an slight angle...
Hippie hubby walking past the house...
The perfect pic from the Internet...
I tried and searched for a pic of the place before he bought it, but no luck.