Ghost stories aren’t necessarily synchronicities, but here’s one courtesy of Gypsy Woman that ends with a startling synchronicity. Jenean, it seems, lives with her feet firmly planted in two different worlds!
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For many years, I lived in my little 1926 bungalow that was surrounded by beautiful pecan trees. Before I bought the house, I used to drive past it every day en route to work and I couldn’t help but slow down and admire its quaint charm. The house was vacant and since I had such an affinity for it, I tracked down its owner and told him I wanted to buy the house. I sent my initial proposal by mail, and in it I outlined all the things I envisioned for it. Based upon that letter, he sold me the property in which he had raised his family.
When I moved in, I immediately began restoration of the main floor. At the center of the house was a square island which housed a large closet and the stairwell. The closet door opened into a rectangular hallway which led to the other rooms. The closet door was directly opposite the door of the master bedroom – or in my case, the ‘mistress bedroom.’
During this time, my daughter, Cindy, and her two small children lived with me. On one particular night, the children were in their beds and my daughter and I decided to watch television from my big bed. Apparently, we both fell asleep watching a movie. Suddenly, I was awakened by a bright light and saw my daughter standing at my hallway closet with the door open and the light on.
Her back was to me and her long hair was down. She was wearing a yellow dress that I’d never seen. I was startled to see her there and asked her what she was looking for. Then I asked where she had gotten that dress. It had a very fitted waist, a ruffle around the shoulders and a full length skirt with a sash tied in the back.
I called her name several times and she didn’t answer. But she continued to stand there at the closet with her back to me. Then, my daughter spoke. “Mom, what’s the matter?”
I snapped my head around and realized that she was still on the bed beside me. I quickly looked back to the closet, but the girl in the yellow dress was gone and the closet light was off, and the door shut. Cindy and I talked often about that night, and later laughed about it, but it remained very real to me. My sister later moved in with me and over time, other spooky incidents occurred to us and visitors.
Several years later, I decided to renovate the upstairs of the house. I called in a contractor and the work crew began by piling all the previous owner’s leftover stuff along side the curb for pick-up. One day, my sister and I had prepared lunch for the crew and we were all sitting around my dining room table when we started talking about all the things that they’d pulled out of the attic.
That was when my sister said, “Oh, so has Jenean told you the story about the girl in the long dress?”
The foreman responded, “Was it a yellow dress with a big shirt and a big sash?” He went on to describe the ruffles on the shoulders and other details I had seen on the girl at my closet. He said he’d pulled it out of the eaves in the side of the attic wall. He added that it was outside at the bottom of the junk pile.
We didn’t attempt to retrieve the dress, but I knew it was the same one. I never saw the girl again, but I’ve wondered about her often. I researched court records and discovered that the home had been originally built by two women who both came from old prominent Shreveport families.
