We asked our readers to tell us their best ghost story for Halloween. Here are a few of the tales we received.

Family lives through a true horror story

By Kim Wood

My family has a true ghost horror story from about 15 years ago in Hazleton. We lived in a home with a small attached house that had been empty for years. Then Habitat or Humanity gutted it, and things started.

I hesitate to tell this because no one ever believes us, but for several months we felt like we were living in hell. Our furniture was repeatedly thrown to the floor, so much so that we had to bolt it to the walls. One horrible morning I was home alone with my then 6-year-old and something stomped up from the basement and smashed its fist against the basement door.

My daughter was able to see a demonic (her word) hand reaching through it. There was no outside access to the basement. My kids saw a ghost of a man in the basement a couple of times. He had extensive damage to half his face. We went through microfilm in the library and found he’d died falling from the roof of that home years before.

We asked for help from a demonologist because the churches wouldn’t return my calls. He wanted to shame the church into helping us by going public. I was terrified of losing my children to Children and Youth, so I couldn’t go that route.

We read the Bible aloud, we contacted spiritual people on the Internet, we did everything we could think of. One person claimed to speak with the person who died on our house and told us that he was angry that we fought all the time (husband and two children were bipolar). He didn’t like us fighting, but did like us reading the Bible.

The guy who claimed to speak with him didn’t know any of this before calling with his report. The problems stopped after this “intervention,” thank God.

During all of this I wanted to die to get away from it, only to realize it might place me even closer to it.

There is so much more to this than 400 words can tell, but this is a small summary of our story.

A walk in the park

By Dan Christian, Tamaqua

A few years ago I was walking my two small dogs, Booker and Zeke at Tuscarora State Park. This is a daily occurrence for us and have been doing it for years. My little buddy Zeke was diagnosed with cancer during the summer, but seemed to be doing OK. He would still jump up and down with joy when I would ask him if he wanted to go for a walk.

The year before, a young man drowned near the boat rental at the park. His body was found just a few feet from the rental dock. There is a cross near the boat rental dock to commemorate his passing.

On this particular day, as the dogs and I approached the steps to the boat rental, Zeke stopped just a few feet away from the steps and started to wag his tail furiously. He would prance on his two front feet like he always did when I’d come home from work or when he expected to get his daily treat.

He stared intently at something a few feet above the ground. I looked all around. There were no other dogs, no squirrels climbing the trees or birds in the area … nothing! He just keep staring at the unseen thing and seemed so happy to see it, whatever it was.

Booker saw nothing. He just keep pulling on his leash, wanting to go on with his walk. I pulled Zeke’s leash and finally got him to move, but he kept looking back at the same spot. On later walks Zeke would always want to stop near the steps, but never acted as he did that day.

Sadly Zeke passed away from cancer a few months later. I think that sometimes as we get near the end of this life we are given a glimpse into the next. I think Zeke saw that young man who lost his life there that day, and I’d like to think he’s keeping my little buddy company until the day I can walk him again.

Visitor from a different time

By Darlene l. Ochs, Walnutport

I lived in a house on Airport Road, Allentown, more than 30 years ago. My cat woke me up during the night. She kept staring out into the hallway, where there was a dim light.

A man stood there and stared into the bedroom. His attire was that of a different time. He seemed to have vanished after a few minutes. I call him “Harry.”

The house was already sold. Within a week, a gentleman stopped by and inquired about buying the front door since he knew the house was to be demolished.

He showed me a picture of his ancestor, who looked exactly like the apparition. His ancestor was a funeral director many years ago. The glass panels in the door were part of the horse-pulled hearse.

During this time, strange things happened, such as the toilet flushing and the running of water.

The house was eventually demolished. I took the door with me to my new house. I never saw “Harry” again.

A visit from Annie, the friendly ghost

By Sue Christian, Tamaqua

My story is a true one and it happened when I was 11 years old. My younger brother and I lived in a big old house that my mother inherited from a distant cousin. My brother and I used to love to play in the large attic on rainy days. There were nooks and crannies and dark corners to explore.

On one such day we were busy searching an old cedar closet for anything that suggested an adventure. We found an old Ouija board and put it aside for a later date. What really got our attention, though, was a small area on the wall, only about 2 feet high. The name “Annie” was written over and over in crayon, with no other details about the author. We took the Ouija board and went downstairs and gave it no more thought.

The following week was Halloween and I decided to have a sleepover with four of my friends. We were planning to try out the Ouija board and knew we would be uninterrupted since my parents were accompanying my brother to a Boy Scout function.

We formed a circle around the dining room table and held hands. I immediately heard a very loud bump from upstairs but decided to ignore it. I started to move the Ouija planchette when there was an even louder thump upstairs, which sounded like it was coming from the attic.

When we went upstairs, a little reluctantly, nothing seemed out of place but the door to the cedar closet was open. We returned to the dining room to speak to the spirits and the Ouija board was gone! We looked everywhere we could think of with no success. I knew we were the only ones in the house and just couldn’t find an explanation for the missing game.

A few months later in a conversation with my mother, she revealed that the distant cousin who left her the house was named Annie. To this day I think the spirit of Annie, who was a pure and good spirit, removed the Ouija board to protect us from any evil that was attached to it.

I stopped looking for the missing board and sent a small prayer of thanks to Annie.