This story a part of the True Ghost Stories page on Obiwan's UFO-Free Paranormal Page. Please do not copy or distribute without permission from Obiwan and/or the original author!
ARCHIVIST'S NOTE: This file has been reformatted and spellchecked. In some cases, content may have been edited slightly to improve readability. However, the original author [listed in the From: line of the header] retains copyright over this story. Please be advised that you must obtain permission from the ORIGINAL author if you wish to reproduce this file in any form, electronically or otherwise. ----------------------------------------------------------------------From: ALLENSM@vax1.acs.jmu.edu (SUSAN M ALLEN)
Hi all -
I've read here for a few months now and e-mailed to some of you, but finally decided to post my own story.
I worked in a restaurant as a night cook for a couple of years during 1989-1991. The restaurant itself was actually an old grist mill built before the war between the North and South. The history of the building is quite interesting - a Union general attempted to burn it down, thus cutting off grain supplies to Confederate forces, but changed his mind when the pretty young daughter of the mill's owner begged him not to burn it. The charred timbers where he started to set fire to the building are still there -I've seen them.
Anyway, the story is that a young boy was working or playing in the mill during it's operational days and was killed somehow. I've been told a number of things - that he fell from the upper story of the mill, which was quite high, that he was working or playing around the large grinding stone and was pulled in and crushed, etc. Considering that he was most often present in the basement of the building, where the stone was originally located, I think that the cause of death was more likely the grinding stone. The ghost is that of a 10 - 11 year old boy, named Frankie.
Frankie, like most boys his age, is mischevious. I spoke with a descendant of the original owner of the mill, and found out many interesting things. Frankie is almost never seen in the "penthouse" - the upper story of the mill. He seems to stay away from the upper floors. His presence is felt and often seen on the main floor (dining rooms, office and kitchen) and the basement (storage, washroom and bar/lounge). I've talked with a former barmaid who informed me that she had several experiences with Frankie. Often, she would be in the bar in the wee hours of the morning and would hear a banging sound at the back of the bar. She would look down the hall to the back and find the swinging door that led to the upstairs and kitchen banging violently back and forth, as though someone were pushing it or running back and forth through it. Many times, she described seeing a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, as though someone had ran past her, or ducked behind her, when the bar was completely empty. And on one occasion, after the bar and restaurant were closed, and she was the only person left in the building, Frankie pulled a bizarre little prank. The barmaid had finished closing, washed the glasses and turned them upside down to drain on a towel. She left, locking the door behind her. About an hour later, she returned to retrieve a forgotten item and found the glasses all exactly where she had left them, but turned right side up.
Frankie also liked the kitchen, and we would laugh at his antics. One winter night, when business was slow, and I was the only one who could make it in to work, I was washing dishes in the dishroom. I had just finished a load of utensils and sharp knives and had carried them in a buffet pan back to the kitchen and laid them on the counter in the pan to be put away. An order came in, so I left the utensils to fill the order, intending to put the items away later. I had to go around the corner to the back line to prepare the order, and when I came back around to the front to ring for the waitress to pick up the order, all of the utensils and knives were laid out on the counter in neat piles, grouped according to their type. Spatulas, spoons, knives, etc. Frankie pulled the usual ghostly stunts, like turning lights on and off, turning water faucets on full blast when no one was near the sink, moving things, etc. It was common to set something down and leave for a moment, only to return to find the item at the other end of the counter, or across the room. I even think I heard him laugh once, but I'm not sure. The restaurant stood empty for almost three years until it was purchased and recently reopened. I'm sure poor Frankie was lonely and probably cut loose when the new folks moved in! I've often considered going back and talking to the new owners just to see if they've had any encounters with the little rascal!
Susan