Location: Monticello, Florida
Date of Encounter: November 1974
I was staying at my step grandfather's house. It was an old house built in the 1860s. It was a shotgun house with 20-foot ceilings. There was a huge hall down the center of the house from the front to the back. It was my first overnight stay at my step-grandparents' house. My younger brother stayed also in my grandfather's room on a twin-sized bed. I got my stepfather's old room across the hall. The room was located toward the back of the house. The next doorway to the back opened to an old porch. I got into bed with nothing on my mind but girls (I was a teenager with raging hormones). As I lay there trying to go to sleep I started hearing a noise… kerplunk… ching… kerplunk… ching… kerplunk… ching over and over and over. I lay there trying to rationalize the sound (which was fairly loud) because I immediately knew what it sounded like, but tried to come up with a logical explanation. The TV show Gunsmoke was popular at the time. The show started with boots and spurs walking on wooden sidewalks. The sounds I heard were practically identical. After listening and rationalizing for a while I determined either somebody or something was walking with boots and spurs toward the back of the house — possibly to the porch. I got up my nerve, opened the bedroom door, and dashed across the hall to my grandfather's room. I awoke him and told him of my experience and my concern (Hell, I was downright scared). My grandfather was a tough, crusty sort and scolded me (I won't repeat the language) and told me it was my imagination, and to get back to bed. I grudgingly did so. I went back to bed and was relieved that the footsteps had ceased.
Just beyond the bedroom door on the same side of the wide central hall was a huge solid, wood table (I guess it probably weighed at least 300 pounds). As I tried to go to sleep I heard this table (which was only the thickness of the wall from the bed I was in) being dragged across the wooden hall floor. That was it…I was done… my heart was racing and I was totally petrified. I got out of bed, cracked the bedroom door, peeked toward the table, and made a mad dash across the hall to my grandfather's room. I didn't bother to wake him. I just told my younger brother to scrunch up on the small bed and make room or else I was going to sleep on him. There was no way I was going back across that hall.
The next day I went out back and looked for anything that could have made the boots and spurs noise. I saw nothing that could have been blowing against the house, especially nothing that could have made the spurs sound. Watching Ghost Hunters on TV brings this back to my mind especially when they hear the footsteps.
Today, I would probably want to investigate. Back then as a teenager I was scared to death. I have never experienced anything else since. At the time I didn't think so, but I feel honored to have had that experience. I've related this story to family and friends over the years and invariably I start getting strange looks (like Wow, what's wrong with this guy?). Despite the skepticism, I know what I heard. The old house had to be moved for a highway project. My grandfather sold the house and it was moved to a nearby community and restored. I don't know exactly where. I often wondered if the new owners experienced any of the same or similar phenomenon.