This is not my story, but a shared experience of my parents. One they did not readily share with us kids until we were grown. To be honest, I'm not 100% sure they shared it with all of us, and I only heard it after asking my Mom point blank why in a household of divination paraphernalia (used by my father) were Ouija boards taboo.
I've never known my Mother to be dishonest in her answers, and she wasn't one to embellish a tale. Quiet frankly, if my Dad had told me what she revealed to me, I'd be asking for someone to pass me the salt shaker, but from my Mom - I'd bet my life on it being true.
When my Mom was around 16 (that would be 1935 or so) someone gave her a popular 'board game' called Ouija. Of course she and a few of her friends just had to play it. The details are a bit sketchy, but someone asked if Mom had a spirit guide, the answer was 'yes'. Then it was asked for the guide's name and the board spelled out the name of a boy whom my Mother had known in school. Believing that the boy was working at the factory across the river, my Mom laughed it off. However, what she did not know is he had been involved that very day in a fatal machine accident.
Learning that he had died at the same time the board had given his name was enough for my Mom, it was packed away and not touched again - until, my father came along almost a decade later. Of course, he wanted to use it, and cajoled my mother into giving it another try. After all, nothing really bad had happened before, right? Mom soon regretted even mentioning her previous experience to him, as he just would not drop it and she gave in.
They sat in a darkened room, with lit candles, the board balanced across their knees. As my father asked questions, the room became colder, and staticy. My father asked for proof that someone was truly there with them, and the board began to rise - soon their hands, with fingers still on the planchette, were nearly chest high! Then the board settled back on to their knees. My mother wanted to quit there and then, but my father pushed on.
My mother withdrew her hands and was no longer touching the board in any manner, except for her knees, and still the planchette continued moving, answering my father's queries. Upset, my Mom told him to stop teasing, she KNEW he was moving it. "I'm not," he removed his hands and they both stared at the still moving planchette, and then - then the board 'danced' as my Mother called it. It hovered and spun all of its own accord before crashing violently into the wall, with the candles snuffing out. With a scream my mother fled the room. My father emerged a few moments later, telling her that everything was ok, and he'd 'taken care of it.'
"You just can't control those things. Whatever comes through, comes through, and you're better off not meddling with the unknown. That's why I will NOT have one in my house." Even if she didn't say it out loud, I knew she was thinking, "or in your house either!"