Greenville, PA.
The winter of 1970, about two years after my grandad died, I was staying the night with my brother and his wife at the old house that was my grandparents. While trying to go to sleep on the couch in the livingroom I heard a closet door creak open in the upstairs (unoccupied because it was too cold) master bedroom. What followed was footsteps that went the whole way through the upstairs to the back stairway, down the steps, through the back kitchen, opening and closing a locked door, through my grandma's bedroom into the kitchen and heading towards the livingroom where I was frozen to the couch. Every step sounded just as I remembered my grandfather's shuffling steps. Before it entered the living- room I bolted across the room into the bedroom occupied by my brother and his wife. They had been listening to the same sounds.
Julie Lankerd