The Sallie House Haunting: A True Story (2 page)

introduction

The story of Sallie, the infamous Heartland Ghost, attracts endless rumors and theories of murder, cover-ups, racism and abuse—all the makings of a horror movie. But this is no movie; this is our life.

The facts surrounding the house, its occupants and neighbors, according to news articles, deeds, obituaries and other legal documentation are not as innocent as they may have seemed to be. Tony and I had numerous paranormal experiences and he was repeatedly attacked by what many have deemed the spirit of a little girl. Why bother now? The house and its entities demand to be acknowledged for what we now know was more than just attention, and the purpose of our story is to make facts and information available to those who need it.

Our story begins in 1993; we were a young married couple with a baby on the way, renting a turn-of-the-century home that belonged to the family of a doctor back in 1872. Even though there has been much televised attention to the house, this is the first opportunity we’ve had to share our ordeal, feelings, historical research, and my personal journal entries unedited by the creative efforts of those who would so easily change the facts. This is our story, our life, and even though we moved from the house in 1994, the nightmare still haunts us today and occasionally still leaves its mark.

You as the reader can walk beside me as I relive the experiences and delve into not only our own evidence, but also that of independent research teams; shocking photos and first-hand experiences that were collected while we searched for reasons and answers as to why this little girl, Sallie, made her presence known to us.

I’ve made every effort to include direct quotes from the personal journal I kept during our residence in that house. It has brought back the turbulent emotions that remain fixed in my memory. When possible I’ve included dates, times, places, and the names of people present during each occurrence. Although these individuals can be contacted to verify the testimony, I have chosen not to disclose their full identity and in some cases changed their names for their privacy. Out of consideration I refer to family and friends by first name only. Since we live in a small, Midwestern town, their privacy is very important to me.

As I describe the strange events that I and others witnessed I will discuss how we exhausted every reasonable and logical explanation, theory, and plain common sense to explain each phenomenon. It is my hope that presenting our efforts will demonstrate the significant attempts we made to search for physical proof of tampering before we drew any conclusions or made any final determinations. I felt my skeptical nature, coupled with our exhaustive efforts, were thorough just the same.

My account is based almost entirely on firsthand experience, and the emotion and reactions tied to that experience. I remember all too well the thoughts that went through my mind when I was alone during an occurrence. Over the duration of our experiences, I have found that the more I think about a particular paranormal event (whether scary or not), the more my fear takes over. Instinctively, I begin to think that whatever happened just couldn’t have happened; therefore, it didn’t. As hours and perhaps days pass with no further phenomenon, I grow comfortable and shrug off the experience in question…until I witness something else and the process begins again.

If you have an open mind you are more apt to grow comfortable with the idea that anything is possible, once all logical factors have been ruled out again and again, you are left with one conclusion, a truly unsettling one—supernatural and/or unnatural forces exist.

With the knowledge of how I have reacted in certain situations, I feel comfortable in stating that most people in a similar situation would react and think in a similar manner. This is what my intuition is based on when it comes to identifying whether someone is being honest when describing experiences to me, especially if they are the sole witness to the paranormal phenomenon.

Lastly, and perhaps a significant point of interest, is that the name of this ghost can be spelled two ways: Sallie and Sally. Having only been aware of the later spelling, it was used in my journal and on the drawing Tony did of the little female spirit he saw in the kitchen. Through our research it was realized there was another spelling reflecting a different time period. The ending of “ie” has since been adopted throughout the rest of this book and in all subsequent references.

one

When I was young, I was a believer in the paranormal and longed for my own experience. In fact, one might say that I have always wanted a ghost of my own and waited years for the opportunity for intelligent communication. I knew there had to be an easy way to do it and given the chance, I was sure I could learn from the experience. In 1993 I was given that remarkable opportunity. I have since come to realize through my own personal experiences in the “Sallie House,” that although ghosts do communicate with us, they often use methods we are unaccustomed to. The communications frequently come to us in a manner we are unaware of, therefore rendering us unable to hear, see, or understand that it is there.

My interest in the paranormal may have been a factor in the distance between me and my immediate family. I have always seen things differently and have always been the black sheep. With a desire to step out of the chaos of a dysfunctional situation and control my own life, I left home at the age of sixteen. Over the span of thirteen years, I had lived in several states and ended three marriages. My travels led me to Kansas, where I met Tony. We have been happily married for seventeen years now.

Tony came from a religious family and is second to the youngest of eight children. The year we met, I was at the end of a deteriorating marriage and Tony was getting over an equally bad relationship. We frequented the same bar and had secretly watched each other for months before speaking a single word to one another. Each time I saw him in the room I hoped to meet him formally; eventually we did and then spent the evening into the wee hours talking like we were old friends ourselves.

Afterwards, not a day that passed that we did not call or see each other. After a short courtship and several dates, I and my two cats, a dog and a house full of furniture moved in with him. Spending hours cuddled up on the couch, we talked about so much—childhood memories and our families, religion, dreams, fears, goals, and most importantly, the future we planned to share together. Within a very short period of time there was a level of comfort, familiarity and security that ignited the solid loving bond we continue to share today. We were married in November of 1992.

It became very clear that Tony and I were on opposite ends of the spectrum where the paranormal was concerned. The hope that one day I would have my own experience excited me, whereas any aspect of the paranormal made Tony cringe. There was one conversation, however, that shed a little light on his adamant feelings about ghosts. He described a night when he was young, when he was terribly frightened by the appearance of a male ghost peering out at him from his bedroom closet. Through the rest of his childhood and his adult years, he has avoided both the room and the closet.

We soon discovered I was pregnant, which was a surprise to me, since I had not been able to conceive in my previous marriages. I found it hard to believe and it took time for the reality to set in. Tony, on the other hand, was ecstatic. So, instead of our plans of a February wedding, we were married at the courthouse in November, 1992. As luck would have it, both of our cars were in the shop and we still laugh over the fact that we spent our honeymoon at a local hotel and had to borrow his parents’ car to get there. Although we have endured many obstacles in our relationship, we have continued on a destined path. Where I am deficient, he provides, where he faults, I fill in. We’ve been blessed with both love and friendship.

Here begins our story of life in Sallie’s house. Three months pregnant and newly married, my life had finally taken direction. Our first rental home together was quite small and my pregnancy emphasized the need for a larger home. In planning for a family, we were looking for a few specific amenities: a large yard for children and pets to run and play, and a much bigger kitchen. We knew that finding our ideal house was not going to be easy. In a small town, you all but have to know someone to get a decent place to rent. In fact, we checked out several dumps before we got a lead from Tony’s brother on a small rental house conveniently close, vacant and in need of renters.

This run-down but quaint-looking house stood nestled between two houses just two blocks from the Missouri river. From the outside, it was plain to see it needed a few layers of paint and some attention given to the fences and gardens. I remember wondering why it was the only house on the block that was so low; you had to step down a few steps to enter the front door.

Records for the house and nearby structures revealed that it was the oldest one the block. The landlord, a local police officer, had purchased the house a month before. He had not been able to do much work on the outside of the house, but had given the inside a much needed face-lift.

We had our first look at the place in mid-December. The feeling in the house was comforting and calm. It had plenty of room for our family and seemed perfect. With the help of family and friends, we moved in on New Year’s Eve, 1992. The owner had freshly painted the interior a light peach with a crisp white trim. The colors radiated a level of calm as we entered the house, but looking back, I have often wondered if there was something intangible that drew us to the house.

Although four months pregnant, I enjoyed setting up our first home together. The brick house, from its exterior, looked deceptively small. Inside it was rather spacious, boasting three good-sized bedrooms, one-and-a-half baths upstairs, and a spacious and open floor plan. In our excitement, it didn’t take us long to set up house. Little did we know that we were not the only ones living there. Had we known about the other occupants, Tony would never have allowed us to move in.

two

Although it is difficult to say when it all started, the activity seemed to begin just a few weeks after we moved in. The following is taken from my journal but recalls events that occurred before we actually realized paranormal activity was happening in our home. Times and date are approximate in these early entries, since we had no way to pinpoint more detailed information.

January-February 1993

We had approximately thirty days of normal life in our home. It was our first Valentine’s Day in our new home and after work I was met at the door by Tony, who had made a large beautiful heart with a beautiful mushy poem in the center. He had made an incredible Italian dinner to celebrate settling into our new home and the reality that we were having a baby. Little did we know that this wonderful evening would be the last of our ordinary days together.

During a normal evening routine, we would often snuggle on the couch and watch TV. Several evenings in a row, we both began to notice that the overhead ceiling light would slowly dim to a soft glow, remaining dim for four to five minutes, and then blast at full wattage. This seemed to happen only at night when we were alone. It was as if someone was using a dimmer switch, which we did not have. This happened sporadically over a period of many weeks and sometimes several times within the same evening.

Tony had checked the switch and changed the bulbs and fuses. At one point we even had an electrician look into the problem to determine if there was a reasonable electrical issue. There was none found. Then one night, when the lights dimmed again inexplicably, Tony joked, “We must have a ghost.” We both snickered at the comment, and strangely enough, it was the last time the lights dimmed. Had it been a way to get our attention or to be noticed?

Tony and I noticed other strange things happening in the house; subtle little things which we never gave much thought to at the time. I kept a mental note of them and finally wrote them down many weeks later. At the time, we had no reason to suspect a ghost, and we had no reason to keep a written record of events, much less make an effort to uncover trickery or anything else that would have explained the strange occurrences.

When we moved, we brought three cats and a dog with us, all of whom seemed to have paranormal experiences of their own while we lived in the house. The two youngest cats were naturally mischievous—the third was demure and always looking for a quiet place to snooze or hide. Sasha, the dog, was a purebred Samoyed with a very mild temperament who absolutely adored playing with children and animals of any size. Perceptive and protective by nature, she would initially bark at anyone she didn’t know.

We had not yet purchased baby furniture for the nursery and so it remained empty for quite some time. The white walls cried out for a theme and decorative touches, but we lacked ideas and inspiration, feeling that it would all come together in due time. One of the first days in the house, Sasha followed Tony upstairs and the two of them stood in the hallway while Tony stared into the room, trying to generate ideas. Tony eventually gave up and walked away, but was drawn back by the dog’s incessant barking.

He found Sasha standing outside the nursery, still growling and baring her teeth as if she were being threatened. Looking into the empty room and seeing nothing to warrant such a reaction, Tony tried to calm her by walking into the nursery himself and coaxing her to follow. She wouldn’t budge. For a few minutes longer, she continued to show distinct signs of aggressive and defensive behavior.

This strange behavior took place several more times and in the same place. After about a week, however, the threat she sensed was no longer a concern and she had no problem going into or near the room. Tony thought that Sasha might have sensed an unfamiliar animal outside.

A dog will generally consider any stranger a threat until they have become more familiar with the person or until their humans show acceptance of the visitor. After observing no negative reaction from us when the ghost was present (we didn’t realize it was a ghost then), Sasha must have concluded it was a friend and stopped being aggressive.

Another typical indicator of a paranormal presence are cold spots or sudden drops in temperature. These cold areas aren’t just a few degrees cooler than what is considered to be normal; they can actually be up to forty degrees colder. I think I was the first to notice cold spots.

At no time while we lived at the house did it have central air-conditioning and at the time we could only afford one air conditioner, which we placed in the front window of the master bedroom. Yet I often felt cool air flow past me on the stairs, specifically on the side of the outer wall.

When I first felt it, I thought that the cold was probably from a draft under the door of the air-conditioned bedroom since the bedroom door was just above me and to the right as I walked upstairs. I knew warm air rises and cool air settles, so this theory could not explain the coldness I occasionally felt on my upper body once I reached the top of the stairs.

Over the course of a few weeks, I talked with people who, at one time or another, had been in the house and gone upstairs. I was amazed to find out no one else had experienced the cold feeling except for my brother-in-law’s wife.

March-May 1993

During the last trimester of pregnancy, I often found it very uncomfortable to sleep in our water bed. To make matters worse, our only air-conditioner stopped working in mid-May. The heat and humidity was unbearable upstairs, so Tony and I often slept on the couch with the doors and windows open.

One particularly hot night, about 3:30 a.m., when everything in the house and neighborhood was quiet and peaceful, I was abruptly awaken from a sound sleep by what sounded like blood curling screams, then several loud, quick thumps coming down the stairs. Practically in a state of unconsciousness, my only thought was that someone had gotten into the house and was there to do harm. Before I was able to sit up or have any coherent thoughts, something heavy struck my body and face. Stricken with immediate and absolute terror, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

This, of course, woke Tony, who let out an alarming scream equal to mine! As I screamed for the second time, he took a breath. I screamed; he screamed. This went on for several minutes until Tony realized he had no idea what we were screaming about.

Tony tried to calm and quiet me. Wide-eyed and panicked, I sat stiff and motionless in his arms. We both shifted our eyes around the room in an attempt to figure out what had alarmed me so, but saw no telltale signs of anything out of order. Ten minutes later, I had regained composure, but laughed at how ridiculous we must have looked and sounded.

I also noticed my cats’ strange behavior. They seemed panicked, their hair was standing on end, and they were slinking around the room as if awaiting an ambush. They were hissing at each other and bolting about frantically trying to find a hiding place. I had never seen them in this frenzied state.

As I told Tony what had happened, it was as if a light bulb turned on in my head and I realized that the scream I had heard could have come from one of the cats, as well as the distinct and heavy thumping I heard on the stairs and the blows to my body. The question was, what had they encountered that had sent them into such a frenzy? Tony and I decided to take a look.

I remember wondering, as I mounted the stairs, if the neighbor’s cat, Marmalade, had somehow gotten into the house. It would not have explained the severe reaction of my cats; they had seen Marmalade many times before.

Oddly enough, as I got to the top of the stairs, I felt a wonderful coolness throughout the whole upper half of the house. We could logically assume that the cool air we felt upstairs was not a result of the night air; it simply was not that cool outside or in the lower level of the house.

When we came back down, we found the cats were still in a panicked and nervous state. No, this abnormal behavior certainly was not the result of running into a neighbor cat. Never had I ever seen such a prolonged response in an animal, especially in a cat. In retrospect, I can’t help but wonder if this event had been the first time one or all of the cats had met up with Sallie. Their panic certainly enhanced our own fear and although we may never know what really happened that night, we will never forget how hard we laughed.

June-July 1993

Ghost hunters believe that spirits have the ability to toy with electrical appliances. Knowing nothing about this theory, we were surprised and baffled by activity involving an electric stove top timer.

On June 18, a week before my son was born, I had been cooking in the kitchen and had just put a cake into the second-hand oven we had recently purchased. I set the digital timer for twelve minutes. Less than a minute later, as I was wiping the counter next to the stove, I noticed the timer showed just over four minutes. I looked at my watch and made a mental note on when to take the cake out. Seconds later, my eyes caught sight of the oven timer again, which now read fourteen minutes. I decided to purchase an egg timer on my next trip to the store and didn’t give it another thought until the next day.

I had been sitting alone in the living room and suddenly heard an odd buzzing sound coming from the kitchen. I got up and found the oven timer buzzing. I stood there in puzzlement, just staring at it for a while. After about a minute, the timer stopped buzzing and I stood there thinking how strange it was for the thing to stop itself. This model was one where it was up to you to turn it off the alarm.

The next day, for no particular reason, the buzzer again went off. The first few times, I hurried into the kitchen and shut it off to stop the annoying buzz. However, the buzzing became so frequent that I simply gave up.

There were also times when the timer went off while we had visitors. At one such time our confused guest said, “No one’s been in the kitchen for hours.” I nodded my head, and in exasperation told of how it had been going on for days. Someone suggested that we disconnect it and Tony agreed that we probably would. It was the last time the timer went off by itself and after that it kept correct time and worked perfectly fine.

I have often wondered if the buzzing frequencies had been some sort of signal from Sallie, such as a game or an attempt to communicate with us about the timing of something that happened in her lifetime. Perhaps it was something different altogether. Perhaps she was just excited, because on June 26, 1993, our son Taylor Jacob was born.

My doctor insisted on seven days of bed rest after we left the hospital, but I got bored and was anxious to finish decorating the nursery. On June 28, I pleaded with Tony, who reluctantly gave in and allowed me to start painting.

We had tried for months to choose a theme that would be perfect for the room, but had found it very difficult. Then after the baby was born, for reasons unknown to us, we decided on an even representation of pale pink and baby blue. We had made these choices before knowing about Sallie and afterwards wondered if there wasn’t some sort of influence upon that decision.

One day while painting, I hurried to the other room to answer the phone. Fifteen minutes into the conversation, I wandered back to the nursery and a few feet into the room the phone went completely silent. I stood there dumbfounded, wondering if something had happened on the other end of the line. I pressed the “talk “button, which acted as an on/off button, but still nothing.

I rushed towards the door of the room, thinking I might be able to reach another phone before totally losing the connection. As I stepped over the threshold and into the hall, I heard Karen’s voice saying, “Hello, hello, are you still there?” It had been at least a minute, if not more, of dead silence.