(This is a continuation of Pt 1. -- P.S. I live in Chicago, Illinois, I clicked the wrong country for Pt 1 and didn't get to correct it)
Sometimes my favorite radio (A Studebaker, which was laid on the ground in front of the outlet by my bed) would be mysteriously unplugged when we came home from school and I knew nobody could've done it beforehand. There was no way my parents could've, they worked and I doubt they'd go in my room every day JUST to unplug my radio (which would be turned off anyway). My sisters couldn't because they came home when I did. Once while I was listening to it, an oldies station, after a song went off suddenly a completely different station was playing. I didn't notice at first, I thought it was a long commercial break. I didn't notice until no other songs started playing (after about 10 minutes) and I checked the station. The ONLY way to change stations was by turning the knob, and I didn't notice as I wasn't looking directly at it while listening. It creeped me out so much I turned it off.
My sisters and I once heard a big sound coming from the bathroom (which was directly in front but slightly diagonal from our room). It was the sound of something falling. I went in there and inspected, and nothing was out of the ordinary. My mom and youngest sister once claimed they heard a loud banging noise coming from the kitchen one night while the rest of us were sleeping but nothing was unusual when it was checked out. Also, my sisters and I used to be afraid of going into the basement alone (to get to the basement you need to go through the kitchen). Sometimes we heard sounds from down there. We never used the basement bathroom either, at least not alone (only my dad ever actually used it). I once thought I heard my dad talking (I assumed on a cell phone) and I went down there to ask him something. When I went he wasn't there. He wasn't even at home. I ran upstairs immediately. Other times I thought I heard music playing down there and there wasn't.
We were especially afraid to go near the storage room and the bar (there was a bar at the back of the basement, with built-in stools in front of it and old glasses, bottles and counters behind it -all of which remained there as long as we lived there-, and a full stain glass mirror on the wall behind it where the cups and bottles were). Nobody used it, not either of my parents, and it was often dusty, with our old toy boxes pushed back there behind it. My sisters and I never went back there alone. It was always regarded as some scary dangerous mission to us. My parents thought we were just being silly.
A couple of times when I was alone I heard a voice down there. It was never loud nor was it ever distinct, but sounded like a male's, though I can't for the life of me remember what it said. My sisters say they can't recall ever hearing it, but they know they heard things too. I swore that I once heard a knock on the bar, and glasses clink a few times. Once we had to dog-sit my uncle's dogs. My dad locked them down there once for only about a couple of hours while we were out. When we came home they were howling so loud we could hear them outside, and the bottom of the basement door was badly scratched. They were a little too anxious to get out, but prior to this incident, any other time if someone accompanied them down there, they were fine.
I wonder what all of those strange occurrences mean, or why they happened some times and not all the time. Why the basement was the scariest of all to us I don't fully remember. All I know of it's history is that it was built around sometime around the 20s (I can't remember the actual date) and that's only because I remember once seeing a date from around that time scratched into the wood at the back of one of the shelves behind the bar, and faded words I can't recall. Otherwise I don't know much else of the history of the home, just that something "else" is there.