The Haunting of Redmire Pool

[Kev D]

I saw a ghost once. Here's what happened, so make of it what you will.

I once worked on the second floor of a four storey office block. The open plan office suites were arranged on two sides, connected by short corridors with a stairwell and two lifts.The office photocopier stood just outside the door in the corridor/stairwell to the office I worked in.

Around 11 o'clock one morning, I opened the door to take a copy of a document - and a short, balding, late middle-aged man, wearing a grey suit took the last few steps up the stairway in front of me and walked towards the copier.

"After you" I said to him, cheerily, as I glanced down for a second at the paper in my hand.

When I looked back up - he was gone!

There was no possibility that he could have gone into the lift, back down the stairs, or across to the offices opposite in that one second. I would have seen him do it! But he was no longer there.

I shrugged, took my copy, and went back to my desk with a growing sense of puzzlement - in fact I was so distracted that my colleague June who sat opposite asked me if I was OK. I told her what had just happened.

Much to my surprise, she simply said "Phone Dave in the Post Room".

When Dave answered, I wasn't quite sure what to say, but he cut me off after only a few stumbling words.

"You've seen him, haven't you!".

". . . .Who?" I replied.

"The little man in the grey suit" Dave said. "He wanders the building day and night. He used to work in the basement metallurgy lab. Everyone left him still working one Friday night - and when they got to work the following Monday he was still sitting at his bench - stone dead".

He'd died fifteen years previously!

That's not unlike an experience l had when working on a game farm.
The boss was out for the morning so l didn't see anyone when l turned up for work and just got on with feeding and watering the poults. After a while an elderly chap ,typical old Sussex boy called Jeff Parsons came sauntering down the aisle of the rearing shed. I knew him as one of our regular customers and after exchanging pleasantries l told him the boss was out but that his wife was up at the house. "Thanks boy " he said and poddled off.
At elevensies the boss's wife brought me tea and biscuits and l asked if Jeff had found her.
She looked blank so l told her that he'd popped in and l'd sent him up to the house.
" l don't think so ," she said. " l've just had a call to say he died last night".
Just like John's experience it was all very matter of fact and normal,. l just shrugged and drank my tea and it was never mentioned again.

[JAA]

I would love to encounter a 'ghost or spectre' or whatever you call them. But, there is no proof that they exist other than from distracted people or folk that were in poorly lit areas where the body is naturally in a heightened state of awareness ie in the dark, an old and often badly lit building, creepy lane, dense wood..... you see the connection.

There's a whole lot of quite sound studies on this subject. The 'Haunt Project' is one of the most interesting, which basically showed that if you believe in the supernatural you are more likely to experience it.

In low light the eyes 'ramp up their gain' and in near dark that can get the 'information' into the 'noise floor' of the optic system and the brain then tries to make sense of it, that can lead to all sorts of 'sightings'. The brain uses 'top down processing', that is, it uses context to make sense of the data coming from the eyes. Context includes: the place, the time, what you want to see, what you expect to see, what you believe is possible...

I suspect, although its a hypothesis, that smell plays a big part, especially the Jacobson's organ and I wonder that there is some kind of flora which can subconsciously prime the brain to expect 'seeing a person', which changes the context, as it were.

[John Milford]

I would love to encounter a 'ghost or spectre' or whatever you call them. But, there is no proof that they exist other than from distracted people or folk that were in poorly lit areas where the body is naturally in a heightened state of awareness ie in the dark, an old and often badly lit building, creepy lane, dense wood..... you see the connection.

There's a whole lot of quite sound studies on this subject. The 'Haunt Project' is one of the most interesting, which basically showed that if you believe in the supernatural you are more likely to experience it.

In low light the eyes 'ramp up their gain' and in near dark that can get the 'information' into the 'noise floor' of the optic system and the brain then tries to make sense of it, that can lead to all sorts of 'sightings'. The brain uses 'top down processing', that is, it uses context to make sense of the data coming from the eyes. Context includes: the place, the time, what you want to see, what you expect to see, what you believe is possible...

I suspect, although its a hypothesis, that smell plays a big part, especially the Jacobson's organ and I wonder that there is some kind of flora which can subconsciously prime the brain to expect 'seeing a person', which changes the context, as it were.

I'm quite sure there are rational explanations for many so-called 'supernatural' experiences.

None of them however, explain the two incidences mentioned here.

Well lit, completely mundane settings and perfectly rational people just going about their daily routine - and experiencing seemingly routine encounters which only sebsequently defied explanation. Neither expecting, wanting or being primed for any kind of experience out of the normal. Not prior 'believers'.

The other factor in my case was someone else independently describing exactly who I had seen, from his own previous encounters (he'd had several) - without any of those details being volunteered by me.

The other thing that the two incidences have in common, is that neither of us have thought a great deal about them since. Mine was not a 'life changing' event, nor it seems was Kev D's - we both just shrugged and got on with our normal lives without further ado.

I haven't thought about 'The little man in a grey suit' for years, until prompted by this topic.

[JAA]

I would love to encounter a 'ghost or spectre' or whatever you call them. But, there is no proof that they exist other than from distracted people or folk that were in poorly lit areas where the body is naturally in a heightened state of awareness ie in the dark, an old and often badly lit building, creepy lane, dense wood..... you see the connection.

There's a whole lot of quite sound studies on this subject. The 'Haunt Project' is one of the most interesting, which basically showed that if you believe in the supernatural you are more likely to experience it.

In low light the eyes 'ramp up their gain' and in near dark that can get the 'information' into the 'noise floor' of the optic system and the brain then tries to make sense of it, that can lead to all sorts of 'sightings'. The brain uses 'top down processing', that is, it uses context to make sense of the data coming from the eyes. Context includes: the place, the time, what you want to see, what you expect to see, what you believe is possible...

I suspect, although its a hypothesis, that smell plays a big part, especially the Jacobson's organ and I wonder that there is some kind of flora which can subconsciously prime the brain to expect 'seeing a person', which changes the context, as it were.

I'm quite sure there are rational explanations for many so-called 'supernatural' experiences.

None of them however, explain the two incidences mentioned here.

Well lit, completely mundane settings and perfectly rational people just going about their daily routine - and experiencing seemingly routine encounters which only sebsequently defied explanation. Neither expecting, wanting or being primed for any kind of experience out of the normal. Not prior 'believers'.

The other factor in my case was someone else independently describing exactly who I had seen, from his own previous encounters (he'd had several) - without any of those details being volunteered by me.

The other thing that the two incidences have in common, is that neither of us have thought a great deal about them since. Mine was not a 'life changing' event, nor it seems was Kev D's - we both just shrugged and got on with our normal lives without further ado.

I haven't thought about 'The little man in a grey suit' for years, until prompted by this topic.

May so, maybe not. But as I've previously noted, you cannot wholly rely on memory either.

At the end of the day, feel free to believe in ghosts if you wish.

I choose not to.

[Kev D]

I've had a few other experiences which were certainly out of the ordinary, whether supernatural ,explainable or unexplainable in mundane terms , or part of nature we mortals haven't yet developed the technology to monitor l don't know.
Of them only this one was terrifying.
I was driving my first car with my first proper girlfriend back from Brighton via country lane at dusk . So there was still some light and the road was straight. Yet suddenly l had to swerve to avoid a dark mass in the road. Cue a degree of mutual " Blxxdy Hell . What was that?" Then came the foulest stench from the back seat of the car that l've ever experienced. Something like a wet dog that has been swimming in a bog and fighting a skunk but more potent .
We both felt something was with us in the car but neither dared to look round. If it happened today l'd like to think l'd probably stop and have a word with whatever it was was but at the time my hands were clamped sweatily to the wheel and l couldn't even make myself glance at the mirror. After about five miles we hit the lights of our hometown and the smell in an instant was gone . Our moods flicked like a switch back to normality. I even joked that whatever it was probably just wanted a lift into Horsham. I've passed the spot where it all started many times and very occasionally think "that's where that weird thing happened" but that's all.
Another time l went to visit a friend . He was out but his girlfriend was home and l stayed and chatted with her and a couple of other mutual friends who had also dropped round. The house was a council house in a village and had been vacant for a long time before the couple moved in.
I was sitting on the sofa when l suddenly announced that there was someone standing to the side of the room Before l could describe it my friends girlfriend said it was an old man . The other two people in the room just looked puzzled as she and l swapped snippets of his description. If that wasn't weird enough ,l couldn't see his legs but the girl could . In the end something made me ask for a pen and paper and l did a quick sketch of the chap. The result was a mildly cartoonish image of someone who looked a bit like Peter Cushing wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches like an old schoolteacher. At that point the vision faded. One thing that neither my friend's girlfriend or l had mentioned at the time was the way the figure had been staring angrily at one of the other guests.
Later when we discussed it we agreed that neither had said anything it case it distressed the other visitor .
The postscript to this was that my sketch was shown to a neighbour who declared it a recognisable likeness of of the previous tenant who had been taken to a care home six months before my friends moved into the house. They moved to the village from elsewhere so it was improbable that they had any idea what the previous tenant looked like.
The same house was the setting for a couple of other strange happening at later dates .

[JAA]

...to which I might add that "The plural of 'anecdote' is not 'data.' "

[John Milford]

My second home was a Victorian semi on the cusp of North Kent (within Greater London, but with a Dartford postcode).

The previous elderly occupant died in the house, and we eventually purchased it from her executors, once her estate was finalised. Her name was Mrs Harper.

The house was a real 'fixer-upper' requiring extensive renovation and we lived in it for several months before the work could begin.

It was late autumn, the house was cold, the fuses blew regularly, the floor was rotten, the old sash windows were draughty and they rattled and whistled.

When we put my two year old son to bed on the first few nights, he could be heard laughing for a short while before going to sleep. After a few days we asked him why. As well as he was able, for a toddler, he told us "I like the old lady who comes in to see me - she's funny".

His bedtime laughter soon stopped and his mother and I put it down to childish imagination. We certainly never experienced anything odd ourselves or felt any unease, in fact quite the contrary, the house felt welcoming, despite its dilapidated state. Perhaps it was Mrs Harper who was welcoming us and our young child into her old home? Ha ha! we thought, perhaps not!

Now, If I was ever going to be unduly suggestible to seeing (or imagining) a ghost, it would have been in that old house in those first few weeks. All the ingredients were there - unfamiliarity, the stress of the move, the crumbling setting, the back story, my little boy saying he saw 'the funny old lady'. It might even have been understandable, but I never saw Mrs Harper!

Nothing remotely like that preceded my 'little man in grey' encounter though! Just another normal day at work - and there he was.

[Old Man River]

I have had a couple of experiences , one of which you may read if you visit the new edition of “The Piscatorial Raconteurs “ on the 16th, the second is as follows.
After leaving the forces,back in the mid seventies, I had my own Security company for a while. One of the factories I looked after was an old sprawling woolen mill which had been converted to now be a kitchen manufacturing business.The Mill was over 4 floors, and had several seperate buildings , all used by the Kitchen Company, including offices .
I had a couple of large dogs which the fellows I employed would take on their rounds with them. Both Black Labradors , more pets than guard dogs if truth be known . One summers evening the chap who was scheduled to do the rounds of the mill was on Holiday and I was covering for him as I did for all the others .
I collected one of the black Labs from the kennels and commenced the rounds at about 9.00 PM. It took a good while to cover all the floors and buildings. I used to use the lift to get to the top floors and work my way down, using the wide stone stairs which were at both ends of the buildings , checking the floors as I went.
On reaching the final building which included the office complex, I made my way down from the top floor as described, and was leaving the offices , and making my way down the stone stairwell toward our Ground floor Office.
On turning a corner on the steps suddenly the Black Lab started to back away , the stairwell was well lit , the building was quiet , but the dog , which although friendly was also quite large and would respond to commands well was obviously unnerved by something. It crossed my mind that there may he somebody at the bottom of the stairwell, so I commanded the dog to “Speak”. ( I had been involved in dog training for some years ,saying Speak,was telling the dog to bark, which he would normally do very well, and loudly) , instead the dog staarted to back away, but facing down the staircase , his rough was inflamed on his neck and he was making a whining noise, he seemed panicked, and would not bark at all , I could not understand it. Unable to get the dog to go forward I Secured his lead to the steel stair rail and went down myself, there was absolutley nothing at all out of place. The bottom door to the rest of the ground floor was secure and the stairwell was empty.Our office door was locked and nothing was out of order at all.
I returned to the dog which had managed to back into the stairwell corner and was cowering from something. I had no idea what . As the dog was onviously under some stress, and would not go down the stairs, I had to retreat upstairs taking the dog with me and go down the other staircase at the other end of the building , back through the ground floor and into our office from the other direction.
As we left the staircase the dog seemed to calm down a bit and by the time we reached our office it was almost back to normal, indeed he wolfed down a bowl of food and settled on his bed .

I left the dog to settle, and checked the rest of the building myself .During the later rounds I did not take the dog near to the where he had been so upset earlier.

At about 7.00 am. I took the dog out for a run on the field at the side of the mill. Frank Walker, the caretaker was there with his dog and we watched the two animals running around together . I mentioned the strange behaviour of the Labrador during night .

Frank asked exactly where it had happened , I described the turn of the stairwell, amd the final two flights going down . Frank said come with me . We went to his cottage which was part of the factory property, we went indoors and Frank brought out a very old newspaper , he showed me an article.

What he showed me was a piece which featured the Mill, and its owner sometime at the beginning of WW2 . The factory had been turned to making things for the war effort and the owner had a son who worked in the office .The son thought he was exempt from Military Call up as he thought his job was an exempted occupation. This was not the case and his call up papers arrived, he tried to avoid the conscription all ways , his father who owned the factory tried “pulling strings” to keep his son out of the Army , nothing worked. The son tried to register as a Conscientious Objector, but this all had such a bad effect upon him that he had taken himself into the factory , and hung himself from a steel pipe which was in the stairwell .
There was a photo of the stairwell, and in fact, the steel pipework was still in place to this day.

The dog would not pass the place where the son had hung himself, although there was nothing tangible there at all to me. The dog had obviously some sense of foreboding that had missed me altogether..

That night was the anniversary of the sons death.


David

[Kev D]

My second home was a Victorian semi on the cusp of North Kent (within Greater London, but with a Dartford postcode).

The previous elderly occupant died in the house, and we eventually purchased it from her executors, once her estate was finalised. Her name was Mrs Harper.

The house was a real 'fixer-upper' requiring extensive renovation and we lived in it for several months before the work could begin.

It was late autumn, the house was cold, the fuses blew regularly, the floor was rotten, the old sash windows were draughty and they rattled and whistled.

When we put my two year old son to bed on the first few nights, he could be heard laughing for a short while before going to sleep. After a few days we asked him why. As well as he was able, for a toddler, he told us "I like the old lady who comes in to see me - she's funny".

His bedtime laughter soon stopped and his mother and I put it down to childish imagination. We certainly never experienced anything odd ourselves or felt any unease, in fact quite the contrary, the house felt welcoming, despite its dilapidated state. Perhaps it was Mrs Harper who was welcoming us and our young child into her old home? Ha ha! we thought, perhaps not!

Now, If I was ever going to be unduly suggestible to seeing (or imagining) a ghost, it would have been in that old house in those first few weeks. All the ingredients were there - unfamiliarity, the stress of the move, the crumbling setting, the back story, my little boy saying he saw 'the funny old lady'. It might even have been understandable, but I never saw Mrs Harper!

Nothing remotely like that preceded my 'little man in grey' encounter though! Just another normal day at work - and there he was.

Crikey . Our bungalow was a wreck ,the previous occupants had both passed away at home and my own daughter was of a similar age to your boy when we kept finding the light in her room switched on after we had settled her for the night . Forgetfulness on our part maybe sometimes . Dodgy switch? No fault found
Small toddler using sticks or pile of toys to access the switch in the dark ? Highly improbable .
According to her " The lady did it ".

[Peter Wilde]

I would love to encounter a 'ghost or spectre' or whatever you call them. But, there is no proof that they exist other than from distracted people or folk that were in poorly lit areas where the body is naturally in a heightened state of awareness ie in the dark, an old and often badly lit building, creepy lane, dense wood..... you see the connection.

However, the talk of an office printer has reminded me of a tale recounted to me by a chap who repaired them. He was in an office building where there seemed to be a fashion competition amongst the female workers, he enjoyed his calls there. Anyway, one day he was crouching behind a machine
fixing it. He heard the door open and a beautiful young lady breezed into the otherwise empty office. She stood for a moment and looked around, then she grimaced slightly and expelled the longest, loudest fart he had ever heard a woman emit. He immediately stood up and stone faces said 'It's just a minor fault, I'll be clear in a minute' and, according to him, she looked at him as though she had just seen a ghost.

Or more likely … Heard a ghost !!