The home we had rented previously had been sold. Our new home was not ready for us to move into yet as it was still being painted, repaired and new carpeting installed. The previous owner had passed away so the son, inheritor of the home, was fixing the new home up and updating things.
We had about six weeks before our move in date, so we stayed at my Grandparents large home which was actually one street over. My Grandparents were pack rats. So we actually only had one bedroom that we could sleep in. I slept in there with my husband, young son, and my daughters crib was in the open space just through our door into the large living room area. The hallway resembled an L shape with our bedroom being at the end of the short turn on the L. A pocket door led into the living room at our end of the short L as well. This is where my daughters crib was placed.
My Grandfather hated us using that pocket door as children. Often going through great lengths to block, or obstruct the doorway. Even going as far as to drill a hole in the upper corner, and slide a peg through it with a lock and an eyelet screwed into the frame - just so we'd have to walk down the hallway. The hallway was quite long. In fact down one side of it was a series of standard sized double closets - three of them - with a hot water heater at the end in a small closet the width of a standard door. Even as an adult, walking down that hallway was scary. By the time I got to the end to turn left (four steps) towards my room, I was almost screaming in fear. As kids, the hallway was bare wood and my sister and I would lay in that back room in fright, clinging to each other under the blankets as we heard footsteps coming down the hall - but upon looking, nothing would be there. My Grandmother told us it was our imagination. My sister and I were convinced otherwise.
So here I was, in my late 20's and still having these same fears. The only difference was I was allowed to open the pocket door as my daughters crib was on the other side of the door. My husband smoked, but he did so outside. I was folding laundry and he decided to go for a smoke outside. I finished a couple pieces of baby outfits and walked through the pocket door into the front room. As I moved through the front room I could dimly see the coffee table, foot rest, and various pieces of furniture in the room so it was safely passable. The light coming through the thick sheer curtains of the front room window made it possible. As I passed through, I saw my grandfather sitting in the arm chair in the dim light. I turned my head to ask what he was doing up and sitting in the front room alone like that. When I looked, he had vanished. I moved (see: silently ran) to the front door and shot out onto the front porch. I sat next to my husband trying to collect myself. He wasn't prone to moments of silliness like me and was rather sceptical of some of my ghost stories. I never thought him one to admit to seeing a ghost. He took a drag of his cigarette, never asking me why I came exploding out of the house. After a moment he said to me, "You saw it too, didn't you." I swallowed hard and looked at him, "What do you mean?" I replied trying not to break into tears about the big scary ghost that just made me practically wet my pants. He looked at me and said "In the arm chair there in the dark, you saw him too. Looked a lot like your Grandfather and when you went to talk to him, he wasn't there" I nodded. He admitted it scared the tar out of him too. We walked back in together with a lot of lights on.
The next morning, we talked to my Grandmother. My Grandfather was there and said, "Well I was in bed at 8 which was well before you guys went outside so it sure wasn't me" My grandmother scoffed at us and our active imaginations telling us her house wasn't haunted. *I* know better and she's a total non-believing sceptic.
That afternoon I showed my husband photos of my Grandfather and his family. He pointed to one photo and said "That's him. That's who I saw". It was my great grandfather. The same person I thought I saw. He was mean spirited and used to make ghost sounds at us when we'd walk down the hallway or out the front door in the dark trying to scare us on purpose. He thought he was funny.
Not the first tale of sightings in that house, not the last either.