One Saturday evening, Dave, Buddi and I were sitting in my living room, discussing a common topic of conversation, i.e. The evident haunting of the building I lived in. At that time, there were no other tenants, and we three were the only people in the building. Over that year, so many different things had happened, sights, sounds, even smells. We'd all had strange encounters before but 1444 Broadway was in a class by itself.
Dave got this idea- since one of the regular manifestations was footsteps coming down the hall, we'd rig a noisemaker, to see if whatever was causing the footsteps would trigger it. We got some fishing line, and strung it across the hallway, about ankle height. Then, we took an old coffee can, and put a handful of nails, nuts, and bolts in it, and hung it on the line, midway, the idea being that, if something struck the line, the can would make some noise.
The hallway light was burnt out, so we worked by flashlight, Dave with his Mini-MagLite, me with one of those long, four-cell jobs that RadioShack used to give away.
We got everything set up, and went back to my apartment, and had dinner.
About eight-thirty or so, as we were sitting watching TV, the three of us heard the rattling of the can in the hall. Dave and I grabbed our lights, flung open the door, and dashed into the hall.
There was nothing in sight, just the can jangling back and forth on the line. Suddenly, the entire front of my flashlight flew off, spilling the collar, lens, reflector, bulb, and all four batteries onto the floor. The front of the light wasn't loose-indeed, the light wouldn't work unless screwed down tight- but it happened, none the- less.
Dave and I just looked at each other, and went back into the apartment, closing the door.