Date: Sun, 13 Jul 2014 16:44:22 -0400
From: “N.A. Booko”
Subject: Tales of Old Chatham: Delayed apparition . . .
In the mid 1980s, when I was earning my living as an antiques dealer, I had the good fortune to acquire some fine pieces of early North Carolina furniture, much of which was from Chatham County. One hot July summer, I was offered the contents of a home several miles south of Siler City. There was the main house, a separate kitchen, a slave cabin, several out buildings, sheds and big barns. There was an assortment of furniture there, some from the late seventeen hundreds up to the nineteen fifties.
The farm was part of a 1780 land grant to a certain man, and it had been in the same family all these years. They were slave owners and copies of old wills give surviving children horses, money and certain slaves.
I made a job out of going to pick the things up. Work a day and rest a day. It was a hot July. I actually had three months to finish- but I wanted in done and over with. As you can imagine, there were creaks and groans in the buildings and every once in a while, I felt as if I were being watched. There was only one room upstairs. The stairway was in the middle of the house, almost as big as the room it led to. One stiffening afternoon, I was walking down the stairs with a box of items, I looked at the base of the stairs for some reason and immediately felt a cold breeze envelop my entire body. It all ended as quickly as it started.
Several days later, in a quite moment, I reviewed the incident in my mind. This time, it was something completely different. I could now see what my mind refused to let me see that hot day when I felt so cold . . There at the bottom of the stairs, stood an tiny old woman, gray hair pulled back in a bun, wearing a long dress and an apron. She had softy said to me “What are you doing here?”- then vanished . .
Three years later, when I put the items up for sale, many relatives and descendants of that family came to look, to talk and to buy family heirlooms. One lady, who only identified herself at the time as ‘a relative’- mentioned she had lived in that house as a child. I immediately told her my story and described the old lady. She said “Oh, my God, that was Grandma Bxxxxx.” The following week that relative returned, bringing a picture of the Grandmother- I was astounded! It was the very woman I had seen and so carefully described later.
Careful when buying family heirlooms- it is said that some spirits attach themselves to places or objects as a final attempt to remain in this dimension . . .
N.A. Booko
N.A. Booko lives and remembers in Chatham county . . . when the spirit moves . . .