I live in a VERY small town called Badin, North Carolina. Population around 1500. It is a fairly old town that was established in the early 1900's for the ALCOA aluminum company. Each house was/is pretty cookie cutter, with the exception of a few larger homes. They were intended to provide housing for the workers at the plant, and the house I live in was considered to be a "medium" income style home... Not to big, not to small.

We moved in around early December 2010, and because of the age, and styling of the house we always had a creepy feeling about it. WELL, my wife had creepy feelings anyway. I rather enjoyed it.

When we moved in, our landlord told us that the previous tenants had talked about hearing unusual noises, and things falling of the shelves late at night. That wasn't the ultimate cause of them leaving though. They were an older couple, and had decided to retire, and move to Florida. Then, our landlady told us that before she purchased the house, the previous OWNER had not been upstairs in the house for over 30 years... didn't have it blocked off or anything, just NEVER went up there because she had no use for the upstairs portion of the home because she was rarely home because of work, and didn't have any use for the extra space after her dreams of marriage and parenthood never happened. Apparently, she also had made mention of certain noises coming from upstairs, but never paid it any mind, and passed it off as the house was old, and settling further into it's foundation...

NOW, let it be known that I am in no way shape or form scared of "ghosts" or "spirits" in the way of human souls being trapped between life and eternity... I do, however, believe in spirits, demons, and angels. I consider any spirit of the mortal human origin to be more or less confused, and homesick, and thus is the cause for them hanging about after their passing. Demons and other evil things, are another story though, but I digress...

Our daughter had just started sleeping in her "big girl bed". After about a week she would wake up at ungodly hours of the night crying. She was 2 1/2 years old at the time. I would jump up and rush upstairs thinking "bad dreams... wet the bed... hungry or thirsty...etc". EVERY time I would ask her what the problem was, she'd say "he scared me" or "scary man by the window". Again, I dismissed it as bad dreams at first, and rubbed her head telling her that NO ONE was going to scare her, and if anyone tried, that daddy would chase them away. A kiss on the forehead, and back to sleep she went. I work out of town on the weekends with Nascar, and my wife would call me while I was gone telling the same stories that I had encountered with our daughter. My wife became very distressed over the course of a few months as I continuously dismissed any "hauntings" that my wife thought could be going on.

We had decided to let our daughter sleep downstairs with us for a few nights while I was home and called it "camping" so she would think we were having a good time, and hopefully reject her "bad dreams"... This is the point of the story when I become convinced of some sort of eery presence in my home...

The first time I woke up to a loud smashing noise from upstairs that woke us all up. My wife said "What the 'F' was that?!", and my daughter had sat up and said "daddy, it's the doctor"... The doctor? What?... Well, being the "alpha male" that I try to be, i throw on my basketball shorts, grab my .38 special outta the top drawer, and go upstairs slowly, all the while talking out loud to whoever MIGHT have been there. This town is so safe is stupid, and I was convinced that I was talking to air. Upon entering the guest room, and turning the light on, I saw what was left of a flower vase broken on the ground with the lemon scented potpourri scattered about. Okay, freak accident, clean it up in the morning, it's 3 AM for God's sake... On other occasions over the next few weeks, while I was not working, we would hear knocks and creaks throughout the night. My wife was beside herself, and I was becoming more and more convinced that maybe something was going on that I couldn't explain. My wife was pregnant with our second child, and we had got permission from our landlord to repaint, and decorate the guest room for a more baby appropriate theme. One night before I had to go to work, I was hanging a few coat hooks up on the wall when the wife called me down for dinner. I had one coat hook left that I had not put up yet, and LAID IT DOWN ON TOP OF THE CHANGING TABLE that i had just put together earlier that day. It was top dead center on the table, and I mean it. No way for it to fall off! We are downstairs eating dinner, and all of a sudden... BANG, CRASH, BOOM. My wife jumped in fright a bit. I went upstairs, and to my huge surprise I found the coat hook on the floor, 4 feet away from the table like someone, or something, had tossed it there. That was it for me! We were in a haunted house, and whatever or whoever was there wa obviously trying to tell me something!

I found myself talking softly out loud to whatever this thing was... Softly because I am a man, and still wasn't ready to give my wife the satisfaction of knowing that she was right all along! "Whoever you are... Doctor, maybe? My family lives here, and my daughter has said that you scare her sometimes at night. We mean you no harm or discomfort, and love this home very much. If you must be here, I ask that you grant us the same respect that we have given you, and if we have caused any offense it is strictly accidental. It would be ideal if you could find your way out of here so that my family can rest easily at night." I told my wife that she was to take herself and our daughter to my parents house the next morning and stay there until I got back from work in a few days. In the mean time, I instructed her to call a priest and ask for a blessing on the house to be performed.

The next day, my wife's childhood friend called and said that her mother had called her last night. Her mother had always thought herself to be a sort of medium, or at least able to commune with spirits on some level. My wife's friend said that her Mother told her that her friends (me and the wife) were not in danger, but someone was displeased with a broken window in the carriage house out back, and that it needed to be fixed... I had been in the process of restoring the original windows of the carriage house, and when we found out that my wife was pregnant again, my project got put on hold, and there was indeed a broken window pane that i had not yet replaced. Not only did I promptly replace the window after I got home, but I painted them a beautiful shiny red from the approved historic color list, and put new rope on the old pulley system that allowed them to slide up and down!! The next day the priest called and had to postpone the blessing due to an illness. Later that day My wife's friend called again and said that her Mother had called back to say that our house was now under no more scrutiny, and the spirit was very pleased with the work done... Thanks?...

From that night 'till now we have had no further disturbances in the house, and I have vowed to continue the slow and steady process of sprucing up the place a bit with minor restorations. We called the priest and told him that his services were no longer needed, but he isisted on coming to do a blessing/ cleansing anyway for good measure.

After all of the stress, I had decided to do some investigating about the history of the house, and this is what I found by looking up property records, and asking all of the neighborhood elders for any recollections they might have...
In the 1930's an employee of the ALCOA aluminum company, last name Shoe, had bought our house, and lived there alone with no known family. His only pleasure in life, according to a few of the elderly people who actually remembered him from their own early childhood, said he was a wonderful man who loved helping other struggling families during the depression era. He had no family to spend his money on, so he helped families in the neighborhood buy food, make household repairs, and made sure the children had toys that they otherwise wouldn't be able to afford. One lady that I spoke with said a lot of the other adults would call him "THE DOCTOR" because he had a way of healing peoples hearts in the hard times of the depression. Remember my daughter referring to the "doctor"?? When she told me that they called him "The Doctor" I started to cry a bit, and she chuckled, and said "I bet you've heard from him in some way, as upset as you are getting, but honey I promise you ain't got nothing to worry about with Mr. Shoe". I gave her a hug, and thanked her for the information, said goodbye, and went home.

I went to the carriage house, walked upstairs to where I had finally fixed the window, and said out loud again, "Mister Shoe...Doctor...Doc, or whatever you like to be called. Thank you for being so kind. I know you meant no harm to my little girl now, and I hope that you find peace wherever you are. I promise to keep this home safe and sound for us, and as long as I am here I'll try my hardest to do so." As soon as those words came out of my mouth a felt a cool and refreshing breeze come through the open door, and across my face... I know it was The Doctor trying to tell me thank you! I know it was!!!

On my life, I swear these things happened exactly as I typed it!! I have not tried to communicate with the dead EVER intentionally, but I know that I shared a moment with Mr. Shoe on more than one occasion throughout these events. Maybe my senses weren't as apt to listening to what he was trying to tell me, and he found my wife's friends mother to tell me what I couldn't hear from him, but never the less, I talked with him, and with the few exceptions of my wedding day, and the birth of my two daughters, I can say that it was the single greatest moment of my life!