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!
Date: Fri, 6 Mar 1998 21:45:47 -0800 (PST)
To: guestbook@ghosts.org
yourname Cori Hauer-Galambos
email desaix@earthlink.net
Enough browsing. It's my turn to tell everyone out there of my ghostly experiences in Paris, France in 1993.
I'm a self-proclaimed "sensitive" and tarot card reader; ghosts have always been a part of my life.
I was lucky enough to be chosen to go to a summer art program in Paris in the summer of 1993. Naturally, I was delighted(who wouldn't be?) One of my deepest passions was the NApoleonic era, and I was going to get the chance to see the place it all started.
So, yousay, was I already expecting to see ghosties? Yes and no. Yes, I expected to see ghosts, or rather _feel_ them hanging around- but I wasn't prepared for the ferocity or frequency of the apparitions.
Here I was, in PAris, one of the oldest cities of the world. I saw stuff that would curl your hair....
I went underground to the catacombs, where all the mortal remains of past people are buried(the cemeteries got too overcrowded, so they brought the bones down here and "artistically"rearranged them.)
YEEHA what fun! If you haven't seen a 200 year-old-skeleton up close, you are missing a treat! Now it says "do not touch the skeletons, Please.." but some stupid tourist just had to pick up a skull and toss it around(some teenage German kid with his parents..)
So this ticked off the owner of said skull, and a blue mist formed before my eyes where the skull had been pilfered.
This blue mist seemed to shift and take a form; it came towards me and I was scared for a little while. I told myself to get a grip and looked around to see if i was the only one to see this mist. Luckily my pal Pam S. was there and she was just staring with her mouth open. I thought she was going to freak. She said"Do you see that?" I said "Yeah. Cool, huh?" The apparition was a scant three feet from me and was beginning to coalesce and take on it's once-human form. The damn thing growled at me, and that's when I got pissed. I don't take any crap from a ghost, even if it's six feet tall and foul-smelling. I took a step forward and told the ghost out loud that I wasn't the one who picked up his head. I then pointed in the direction of the path the teenager had taken. The ghost took off with a gust of wind. Pam and I couldn't resist following it to see if that stupid tourist got what was coming to him... Sure enough, there was a shriek and Pam and I saw the kid hightailing it u! ! p the stairs and out of the catacombs. I picked up the skull(which the brat had dropped..amazing the thing didn't break.. ) and returned it to the top of the wall where it belonged. The blue apparition followed me to the wall and slowly disappeared, leaving only the scent of sandalwood- a typical man's cologne in the early part of the eighteenth century.
I've got more stuff from Paris to tell - this is not a load of crap, this is REAL.
Lemme know if you want to hear more.
Cori