Home Encounters The Ghost in White in My Apartment

A Door Opens by Frank Grace
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Name: David Francis
Location: Sunapee, New Hampshire
Date: 1971

I rented an apartment in lower Sunapee Village in the fall of 1971. I wanted to enjoy skiing that winter while I worked in Lebanon, New Hampshire.

The building was an old, well-kept building which seems a typical 1860’s style. I felt comfortable in the unit on the right end of the six apartments on two floors, each with the third floor being under the roof otherwise referred to as the attic. Although there was a standard 1, 4, or 6-panel colonial door with thumb latch which accessed the third floor, the attic was not renovated for the renter’s use. Wall paper, however, still existed on the walls. The floors of the apartment were sanded pine and urethaned. Typical wooden stairs rose to the second floor on the left side of the first floor living room directly in front of the front door. This was a really comfortable and spacious apartment.

The master bedroom was on the second floor above the living room. This is where I slept, of course. It is where the attic door was located. Not long after moving in that September, I realized a repeated phenomenon each night or on several nights. That being, the attic door opened, then the bedroom door to the hall opened. Both were the same style colonial door with thumb latch. I didn’t think much about it at first, but I soon began to check the latch on each door before crawling into bed. And again, the same sequence occurred. I checked for drafts that could possibly push these doors open, none. I planned a skiing weekend with a friend who could stay at my apartment. He slept in the other bed in my room. That night the sequence of opening doors occurred, I simply got up and closed them. I asked my friend in the morning if he noticed the doors opening, he did. Then I told him that this occurred with some regularity.

On another weekend visit by my friend, we discussed the continuation of the opening doors which had started happening during the day. Before we headed out to the slopes one weekend we both checked the attic door to be sure the thumb latch was secure in the keeper. It was. When we returned at the end of the day, the door was open. The next time I went to the landlord with rent, I asked if she or someone she hired had been there and maybe opened the door. No. There was no access from the other apartments through the attic as each unit was walled. I didn’t ask anything else at that time.

On another time, a different friend was visiting for a week. She was alone in the apartment while I was at work. It was on the third day of her stay that she commented that she, “didn’t feel alone,” while I was at work. Not that she was uncomfortable in the apartment, but that she stated she felt not alone as in the presence of someone. So I told her about the opening doors. By this time we (my friends who visited) agreed to the breeze passing by, and the person was dressed in a white dress. I don’t know how to describe the dress, but it was floor length, flowing, and somewhat fashionable.

A few months later I spoke with the landlord about these experiences, that’s when she told me the building was the former Sunapee Inn. Now things made sense. This was a ghost of a former visitor. I told my friends about the building’s history and they agreed…a ghost. I am a hard core existentialist and ghosts just didn’t fit my view of the world. They do now. I moved from the building that June so I could be near my family on Cape Cod, taking this experience with me. At 70, I am still unable to discern any other conclusion to the Sunapee, New Hampshire, experience.

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