My family and I moved to a new subdivision back in the early '70s. There were a few neighbors and some of the houses were still vacant. I lived there for 13 years. My family and our neighbors have all experienced sightings and strange occurances.

Two incidents have stayed with me and still haunt me to this day. One occured when I was having a slumber party with my girlfriends. We were around 12-13 years old. One of my friends and myself were sitting on my dad's car parked in the driveway. It was around 10 at night (crime was not so bad as it is now). A street we called the "hill" was right in front of our house and you either turned left or right at the end. I was talking to my friend about who knows what and she was sitting where she had sight of the "hill" street. All of a sudden her eyes widen. I look towards what she was staring at and saw this little boy (maybe 4-5 years old) skipping down the "hill" holding a bouquet of balloons. Halfway down the street he disappeared. He was wearing what I quess was called knickers (sp?) and a round straw hat with a ribbon hanging towards the rear of the hat. He is still so vividly clear to me. Well my friend and I ran like hell inside the house and woke my father up. He went outside to investigate and of course found nothing. I do not know the period where this time of clothing was worn or if they had balloons back then. After this incident, I would never look up the "hill" at night.

The other incident (and there were many more) happened around 3 years later. I was 16 years old and at that stage when I would rather die than go somewhere with my parents. One time I talked my parents into letting me stay at home while the rest of the family went to visit relatives in Austin, which is 1 1/2 hrs from San Antonio (where we live). It was around 8 at night and my parents had called that they were on their way home. I was talking with a friend on the telepone. The telepone is located in the dining room and the bedrooms are located down this hallway. My room was the last room of this hallway, anyway, I heard my closet door opening (it had a sound of its own). My closet would stick and you really had to pull on that darn door to open it and once you did it made a racket. I froze. I told my friend what I heard and she told me I was just paranoid because I was by myself. I knew all the windows and doors were secured because my father checked them before he left. Then I could hear the distinct sound of someone jumping on my bed. I told my friend to hold on and I stood at the end of the hallway looking toward my closed bedroom door.

I could still hear the sound of someone jumping on the bed when all of a sudden I heard the sound of someone jumping off my bed and hitting the tile floor with bare feet. I ran towards the front door without looking back. I ran to the neighbors house crying and told them someone was in the house. They went with me back to the house and I reluctantly went in with them. My bedroom door was opened. I told them we should call the police, maybe it was a burglar. They said it was probably my imagination. We went inside the room and my bed was a mess (yes, I had made up my bed that morning). The covers were on the floor and the sheets were all bundled up in the middle of the bed. We checked the window and it was secured. We checked the closet and my clothes were strewed all over the floor.

I did not sleep in that room that night and the next morning I talked my brother into swapping rooms with me.

Years after I had married and moved out of the house, someone researched the area were the houses were built and found out a cemetry was located where our houses were built. The graves had been moved.