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Perpetual Ruminations
#1065727 added March 6, 2024 at 3:32pm
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Is There A Story Here?
An old house and a sealed room — is there a story there?

I grew up in an old house, a big two and a half story, stuccoed structure built around 1890. I don't remember the exact date, but it's recorded in the towns history. Originally, it was both a residence and a hospital. The doctor and his family lived in the main part of the house, but there was also a hospital ward that served the miners when required. The doctors brother also resided in the house, but he was terminally ill with TB and was quarantined from the rest of the house.

Off of the doctors bedroom was a small entryway that led to a staircase down to the laundry/kitchen area on the ground floor and to a rather fancy room on the east side of the house that was a self contained living quarters with many windows where the infectious brother resided until the end.The room had a large built in closet, dresser, and booth like table as well as a second small closet which housed a wash basin and chamber pot.There was a small door, about two foot square, that opened into the upstairs bathroom and latched from the bathroom side. It was used to empty and clean the chamber pot, as well as the wash basin. I should mention, the brothers room also locked with a skeleton key that hung outside the door as well as with a small dead-bolt on the outside to insure the resident not leave the room and infect others.

There are stories about this time-frame, some documented, some not, but most of my history of the house came from an elderly woman who lived next door. I was in my early teens and she was in her late 80's at the time. Her house had been built  about 1902 and she was born and raised next to our house and had many memories.

There is much yet to be said but not now. Perhaps if there is a story (it would be fiction as it's based on both fact and rumor. Of course, to make the story even more interesting, I would likely add to it with my wonderful imagination. But for now, the true base I would work with.

The house served the miners in the area, and we know the mine were unsafe and there were terrible accidents. Because of this, there were some deaths within the hospital part of the house, as well as the brother who also died, locked in his room with only occasional visits from his brother. This resulted in the stories of the house being haunted but did not explain that when my family moved in, the doorway to the brother's room was nailed shut, from the outside!

Of course, in time my dad opened the door and we got a look inside. The room was exactly the same as it had been, except there was no one in the single bed, no clothing or personal items, just the room, pulled blinds, and stripped bed. Oh, and decades of dust.

The people we had bought the house from provided some answers. Being a small town, about 1200 people, it wasn't difficult to keep in touch. Harry told me the door was nailed shut when he purchased the house from the second owner who had informed him that the door was sealed when he purchased the house from the doctor. He had also been stern that the door should never be opened! Harry had lived in this town his entire life and knew some of the rumors, so he had no ambitions to open the sealed room.

Even after my dad had opened it, I was still preteen at the time, he never used the room except to store some junk in. He also ensured the door was always locked and dead-bolted and kept the key in his dresser. Us kids were forbidden to ever go near the room! I had seen the room when he opened it up, I was with him, but that was shortly before the room was locked up again. My mother told me years later that it wasn't until after the door had been opened that the weird things started happening in the house; she didn't believe in ghosts, but she did agree that something haunted our home.

Nothing bad ever happened, but doors would open or close, we would hear footsteps at night, and items would disappear only to be found in the strangest places with no explanations. In time my parents sold the house and we all moved on.

Years later, I was showing my kids where I lived and grew up. I showed them where I went to school, and where I lived. The house was still much the same, but the brother's room on the east side of the house had been removed! Curious I went to the door and knocked. A middle-aged, pleasant woman answered. I explained I had lived there and was showing my kids where I grew up. I mentioned the east room being removed and asked why. She looked shocked. "You lived here? Then you know why! It was unclean!" She literally slammed the door in my face.

That's it for now. I had recently had a dream of the old house and the "unclean" room, and wanted to write a bit about it in my blog. Perhaps there is a good story that can develop from this. I don't know too many people who grew up in a haunted house, and with my imagination, I'm sure I could add some good yarn to the truth.


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About The Author
My writing doesn't follow any set genre, it's interdependent of my mood and all that's taking place in life. I'm still finding myself, what I write constitutes the markers along the path of that journey. With time, many things will manifest in my work and perhaps I will pursue one or two genres. For now, it's not, "What type of writing is my passion?" "Writing is my passion."