Let me start off by saying that I no longer live in that house. I am a 33 year old man with a wife and child and I haven't lived in the home since 1998. I also want to say that I loved the house I am going to write about. Our experiences, though strange, were in no way sinister or threatening.
My parents didn't have much money when they first married. My father was just off of a divorce and when he met my mother she was just coming off of a divorce as well. She already had 2 children at this time. The year was 1972. My brother was born in 1974 and they lived in a cramped apartment. They had no yard for the kids to play in and they were increasingly unhappy with their neighbors. It was time to look into buying a home.
In 1978, my father saw an old white colonial in New Britain, CT for sale. At that time it was on the market for $44,000. He looked at it with the family and they fell in love. Three bedrooms, a full basement, walk-up finished attic area, a nice big back yard and a 2 car garage. Perfect. They bought it.
Things were great, they set up the bedrooms. My sister had her own room and my 2 brothers shared a room. I was not born yet. The first few nights were uneventful. Then one night my parents were sleeping but my father woke up sometime in the middle of the night. He thought he heard footsteps coming up the big staircase that leads from the front foyer area. He then heard the footsteps reach the top of the stairs and stop at each door on the second floor. He shrugged it off as one of the kids wandering or looking for the bathroom and not knowing where it was because it was a new home. He fell asleep. My mother woke a little while later to the sound of footsteps outside their bedroom. She noticed that the bedroom door was open as well. It was at this time she saw the figure of a woman standing in the door way dressed in blue. The woman then spoke to her and asked, "Do you know where Margaret is?" At this time my mother says she was frozen and broke out into a cold sweat. She could not say anything and that is all she remembered.
The next morning my mom and dad shared their experiences. The footsteps my dad heard may have been the woman my mother saw. She didn't share the experience with many people but she did share it with her father. My grandfather was a practical realist, he told my mother she was full of crap. I will share more about him in a moment.
My mother did not see the ghost again, yet strange things would occur. Items would be moved. Shades in the house would go up on their own. Footsteps would be heard and every so often a fleeting glimpse of something darting up the stairs was seen out of the corner of your eye.
On the night of September 30, 1981 I was born. That night my grandfather and grandmother were watching the other kids at the house while my parents were at the hospital. The kids were in bed and my grandfather was still awake in the living room reading. He looked up from reading and noticed the figure of a woman dressed in blue move across the living room and go up the staircase. It did not speak to him but just went about her business. When my mother came home from the hospital her father took her aside and said, "I take back what I said, I believe you now."
Growing up, I noticed things like cabinets open after being closed, footsteps and other strange occurrences like music in the attic with no radio or other source. We nicknamed our ghost Margaret.
Years passed by and one day my father was talking with a neighbor who lived in the back adjoining property. They were discussing previous owners and he told my father of a woman who lived in the house previously with her sister named Margaret. Could the ghost be the woman looking for her sister Margaret?
In 1998 we moved to a new home across town but I have nothing but fond memories of that home. We never felt unsafe or threatened. We knew we were possibly sharing our home with a supernatural presence and we were ok with that.
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