Last year throughout the month of October we shared stories from military spouses base wide who had experienced hauntings or paranormal activity in their homes on post. You guys loved the series so much that we are back again with frightening REAL LIFE first hand encounters from fellow military spouses.
If you had a paranormal encounter and are in base housing, submit your story by CLICKING HERE .
US Army Garrison Wiesbaden opened new base housing in 2012 called Newman Village. The beautiful neighborhood was built atop an old Roman farmstead that existed more than 1,700 years ago. Additionally, the area was once home to the Celts 2,800 years ago and Bronze Age people 3,700 years ago. Prior to the construction of 326 homes, archaeologist Claus Bergmann lead an excavation for Hessen Archaeologie.
Knowing the history of the area, it comes as little surprise that residents of the new homes experienced a bit of the unexplained.
In Facebook groups, neighbors shared of electronics turning on by themselves, or children’s toys mysteriously playing in the middle of the night. Others told of scared children pointing to walls or corners of rooms while screaming and crying, with absolutely no one present.
Clearly, we weren’t the first to live in this neighborhood.
ANONYMOUS ON FARMER LOOP
One spring evening I was cooking dinner while my children, ages 1 and 3, played in the yard. My youngest son walked in and kept pointing toward my couch saying, “He’s right there. He’s right there.” I turned to look, but saw nothing. I then asked my son, “Is he nice?” He answered, “Yes.” I followed up with, “Are you scared?” He answered, “No.” I then turned toward the couch and said, “Okay then, welcome to the house, I’m going to finish cooking.” My son went back out to play and didn’t mention the man again.
One fall evening our family of four was downstairs watching a movie. My husband and I simultaneously lost focus when we heard footsteps upstairs above our heads. We both turned toward each other, and were puzzled since everyone was downstairs. After listening to about seven steps, he volunteered, “The windows must be open.” I said, “No, they’re all closed.” He then asserted, “Okay, it must be the neighbors.” I reminded him that we had never heard our neighbors thanks to thick concrete walls and reinforced windows (thank you airfield, for providing a quiet living experience). When I asked my husband if he’d like to investigate, he quickly declined. The sound of footsteps stopped and we returned to our movie, but the house felt a bit eerie for the remainder of the evening.
The stairs in our two-story house were granite with metal railing. Several evenings I would wake to the sound of banging on metal. I’d roll out of bed and would find my three-year-old son standing in our upstairs hallway, in a daze, tapping on the railing. I’d always put him back to bed, but it left me a bit unsettled. Numerous times after that, I’d hear the same metallic banging late at night when the children were already asleep in their beds. I’d go to the hall, expecting to find my son, but no one was there.
We never felt threatened by the unexplained happenings, but they did make us think twice about who or what was in the house with us. Our new neighborhood was much older than it appeared.
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