Location: Kissimmee, Florida
Date of Encounter: August 2005
My grandfather was a veteran, so when he died, had the American flag that was draped over his coffin given to my grandmother. She then gave it to her first son, my uncle.
After a few years, my uncle said he "wanted to pass it on" to my father, so we took it into our house. As soon as we took the flag in, we started having weird experiences. When my brother was born, he would point to the flag and mumble, as did my nephew. Last year around August, I was home alone and I went to get a drink. As I reached into the fridge, somebody rubbed my back and said, "It's OK, Jean." Jean is my grandmother's name.
Still, we see things, like a silhouette of a soldier in the doorway and hear footsteps in the kitchen. Whenever these things happen, we just say, "Hey, Grandpa."