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From: bwallace@epix.net (Penny) Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories Subject: Old Hag experience (& delurk) Date: Mon, 09 Jan 1995 23:44:11 -0500 I'm finally de-lurking. A few weeks or so ago, there was a flurry of postings regarding the Old Hag experience, which I read with great interest. Years ago, when I was a freshman in college, I had a classic Old Hag experience. I had just moved into a large apartment in a rehabbed Victorian building that had been vacant for about twenty years following a fire. The apartment, in a large city on the east coast, had fireplaces, stained glass windows and a front parlor with a circular turret and a carved marble fireplace. My roommates and I drew lots for room assignments and I got the parlor. I thought myself quite fortunate to end up with the choicest room. This was in the late sixties. All four of us females were art majors and looked the part--thrift shop clothing, waist-length hair, the whole sixties thing.. The sound of the Beatles' Abbey Road album or the Moody Blues could be heard wafting out of our windows day and night. One night during my first week there I went to bed in a fine mood. I should mention that I hadn't been drinking and despite the times, I didn't do drugs. I turned out the light and settled down to go to sleep. As I was lying in bed thinking, I became aware of a rustling sound emanating from the turret . I focused on the sound, trying to determine its origins. A breeze over papers? A mouse? As soon as I dismissed these possibilities the rustling sound stopped and was replaced by the sound of stealthy, shuffling footsteps that were headed in my direction. The sense of a presence was suddenly so strong that it filled the room. I was terrified. The critical detail here is that I clearly remember pulling the blanket over my head (I was lying on my back.) The next thing I knew I was paralyzed--I couldn't move a finger. The footsteps continued their approach and the next thing I knew, a tremendous weight settled on my chest, forcing me into the mattress. I felt that there was a menacing presence, a personality at work that wanted to meddle with me in particular. It was nasty! The intense, dreadful weight continued to press down on me, almost like a large animal settling itself on my body. I thought I would go through the mattress. I knew that I was awake, I was not dreaming, and that something evil was in the room with me. Somehow, my childhood years of Sunday School paid off and I prayed to be released. In that instant, it was over. The following morning, I tried to tell myself that it had been just a dream. To this day, twenty-odd years later, I don't believe I was dreaming.. After that, I slept with the light on and my bedroom door open. Months later, one of my roommates was sick with the flu. Her room was cold so I offered to switch with her until she felt better. That night, she stayed in my room and closed the pocket doors. The rest of us were watching T.V. elsewhere in the apartment. A number of friends were there. Sometime after midnight, we heard the doors of my room screech open on their runners and slam into their recesses in the wall. My roommate came screaming down the hall, saying that something had sat on the bed. She felt the bed sag beneath the weight, though in her case, it wasn't on top of her. She also felt and heard something clawing and scraping at the bedspread. After my roommate's experience, we two scaredy-cats decided to share a room and kept the hall light on. Though nothing like that ever happened again, we did have some exciting times with a Ouija board in that apartment. We left that place at the end of the school year and found another old apartment that proved to be just fine. The students who moved into our former place reportedly had problems there, too. Unfortunately, we never compared stories. I should mention that my fascination with the subject of ghosts led to my getting a Masters degree in Folklore at the University of Pennsylvania. While there I studied with Dr. David Hufford, who wrote The Terror That Comes In The Night. I wrote a thesis entitled "The Old Hag Experience Within A Haunted House Tradition." I found people who claimed that more than one member of their family experienced variations of the Old Hag within the same house. They only discovered much later that they had shared similar experiences while living there. I also interviewed two people whose Old Hag attacks precipitated out-of-body experiences. IMHO Old Hag attacks occur, or at least are reported more frequently in settings that are considered "haunted." This may be a case of "Which comes first, the chicken or the egg?" Does a house with a reputation of being haunted encourage someone to interpret the experience as supernatural or does the experience itself promote the house to be called haunted? In poring over collections of both contemporary and past ghost folklore from around the world, I noticed that Old Hag attacks accompany other manifestations with startling frequency. I also found that elements of a typical "Old Hag," like the rustling sound, the sound of footsteps or the percipient suffering temporary paralysis, are elements commonly mentioned by people who report seeing an apparition, even in broad daylight. Hufford's book should be read by anyone interested in the Old Hag. Although riveting to read, it is scholarly and gives medical science its due. No conclusions are drawn. If you do read it, however, you may choose never to sleep on your back again.