True B and G we can hear your story now that we have nothing to expect for tonight if you want.

 

Well, I don't claim mine to be a ghost story, but it is...unusual...and unexplained.

 

My parents divorced when I was four and my mother and I moved back (I was born out west) to live near her family here in KY. Her oldest brother, my uncle Donald, became a major force in my life. He sort of tried to fill the role of father for me when my own father couldn't be there, due to the distance thing. He and my father, both ex-military, were good friends when my parents were married and my dad used to visit him everytime he came to see me or pick me up for the summer. My uncle taught me to shoot a gun, how to drive, dried my tears on many occassions, went with me to buy my first car, gave me a great love of science through interaction with nature...I could go on, but you understand what an influence this wonderful man had on my life. I can still hear his greeting for me when I would walk in his house...."Whadda ya know, kid-o?" he'd say in his deep voice, with a huge, gruff smile. He did this even after I graduated from college and became a teacher at our local high school. He seemed invincible to me, a force larger then life.

 

That was until Dec 2001 when he was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He deteriorated quickly. I still cry thinking about the last time I saw him. I could tell that he was worried...but the funny thing was, it was about me, not about himself. He wanted to make sure that I would be okay. His wife used to tell about the last time my father called to talk to him. He told my uncle how thankful he was for the role my uncle played in helping raise me when he couldn't be there. Tears came to my uncle's eyes, she said, which was unusual.

 

Uncle Donald passed away May 30th, 2002. I took it really hard. The 21 gun salute at his funeral was particularly poignant for me (nWo, one of those things that we talked about being so special).

 

I kind of went into a depression for several months. I was not there when my uncle passed away and I wondered if he really knew how much I loved and appreciated him. I started being afraid that I would forget the wonderful, deep, loving sound of his voice.

 

One night in July, I was alone at home. The phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it read "Baltimore, MD". I didn't know anyone from there, but I was completing my masters program though Coppin State College in Baltimore. It seemed strange that someone from there would be calling me on a Saturday night, but I answered anyway.

 

Immediately after I said hello, a loud, gruff deep voice on the other end replied, "Whadda ya know, kid-o?"

 

I recognized that voice immediately...exactly like the one that I was afraid was slipping from my memory. I was shocked for a few seconds, then burst into tears. The voice on the other end asked me what was wrong. Through my sobs, I told him that he sounded just like the uncle that I had recently lost. He apologized and told me that he was trying to call his daughter and must have gotten the wrong number. I couldn't help it - I broke down and told the man that I missed my uncle dearly and didn't get a last chance to tell him how much I loved him and how much that he meant to me.

 

The man on the line replied, softly, that he was sure that my uncle was in a better place, one where cancer didn't exist, where he could keep watch over and protect me...and that he was CERTAIN that my uncle knew how much I loved him. Then he added one thing...."I bet he never got to tell you how proud he was of you for becoming a teacher." He also told me that I should be at peace, because my uncle was. I thanked the man and he hung up.

 

I sat there for a minute...and realized that I had not mentioned ANYTHING to the man about being a teacher...NOTHING AT ALL! The hair started to stand up on the back of my arm. I looked at the number on my caller ID for about fifteen minutes before getting the courage to re-dial the number. The voice on the line said....

 

 

 

 

 

"We're sorry. The number you are trying to call has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

 

I tried it one more time that night, but got the same thing. Who knows what the real story is....but I can tell you one thing. I found peace that night. I know that my uncle knew how much he meant to me...and I was comforted in the thought that he was proud of me, too.

 

Not quite a shadow in a photo from a car, but indeed a special story to me. This is my one and only story like this, other than I do have a strange doorbell issue at my house that I can tell again sometime.

 

Needless to say, I shed a tear or two retelling this story...but I feel totally at peace. Happy Veterans Day, Uncle Donald!

That is a sweet story TB.. Very crazy, I have a story like that I posted in another thread.

Very nice story TB and very touching. I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure your unlce still watches you to this day. On the other hand that was a crazy story.

Now I am starting to feel really bad.:cry::cry: I can't post a picture I don't have. I've asked for it and I am just waiting like you guys are. The picture is there I just don't have it yet. She told me that her daughter was at school last night and she would ask her as soon as she can. I swear to you that there is a picture and I promise I will post it as soon as "I" get my hands on it.

No problem, RebelK, these guys are all just teasing you!!!!!

No problem, RebelK, these guys are all just teasing you!!!!!

Oh I know that...but I really wish I had waited to post my thread until I actually had that picture in my computer. I feel sure I can get it ...it's just going to take time. When you have to go through this person to go through that person to finally talk to that person...takes time.

 

But I can tell you this............IT SURE WAS SPOOKY:scared::scared::lol::lol::scared: :scared::scared::scared::scared::scared: :scared::scared::scared: :scared::scared::scared::scared::scared: :scared::scared::scared::scared::scared: :scared::scared::scared::scared::scared: :scared::scared:

Edited November 12, 200817 yr by Watusi

Very nice story TB and very touching. I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure your unlce still watches you to this day. On the other hand that was a crazy story.

 

Thanks. I didn't tell anyone about if for a long time and it took me even longer to admit calling the number back, because I thought that people would think that I was silly...or not believe me. Then I decided that I didn't care what they thought. The incident, whatever you want to believe about it, was special to me.

I have a feeling that Reblk and Birdsfan are playing everyone pretty good with this thread.

^ I agree.

TB&G, I have a similar story about a phone call. I'll post it when I get a chance.

Well, I don't claim mine to be a ghost story, but it is...unusual...and unexplained.

 

My parents divorced when I was four and my mother and I moved back (I was born out west) to live near her family here in KY. Her oldest brother, my uncle Donald, became a major force in my life. He sort of tried to fill the role of father for me when my own father couldn't be there, due to the distance thing. He and my father, both ex-military, were good friends when my parents were married and my dad used to visit him everytime he came to see me or pick me up for the summer. My uncle taught me to shoot a gun, how to drive, dried my tears on many occassions, went with me to buy my first car, gave me a great love of science through interaction with nature...I could go on, but you understand what an influence this wonderful man had on my life. I can still hear his greeting for me when I would walk in his house...."Whadda ya know, kid-o?" he'd say in his deep voice, with a huge, gruff smile. He did this even after I graduated from college and became a teacher at our local high school. He seemed invincible to me, a force larger then life.

 

That was until Dec 2001 when he was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. He deteriorated quickly. I still cry thinking about the last time I saw him. I could tell that he was worried...but the funny thing was, it was about me, not about himself. He wanted to make sure that I would be okay. His wife used to tell about the last time my father called to talk to him. He told my uncle how thankful he was for the role my uncle played in helping raise me when he couldn't be there. Tears came to my uncle's eyes, she said, which was unusual.

 

Uncle Donald passed away May 30th, 2002. I took it really hard. The 21 gun salute at his funeral was particularly poignant for me (nWo, one of those things that we talked about being so special).

 

I kind of went into a depression for several months. I was not there when my uncle passed away and I wondered if he really knew how much I loved and appreciated him. I started being afraid that I would forget the wonderful, deep, loving sound of his voice.

 

One night in July, I was alone at home. The phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it read "Baltimore, MD". I didn't know anyone from there, but I was completing my masters program though Coppin State College in Baltimore. It seemed strange that someone from there would be calling me on a Saturday night, but I answered anyway.

 

Immediately after I said hello, a loud, gruff deep voice on the other end replied, "Whadda ya know, kid-o?"

 

I recognized that voice immediately...exactly like the one that I was afraid was slipping from my memory. I was shocked for a few seconds, then burst into tears. The voice on the other end asked me what was wrong. Through my sobs, I told him that he sounded just like the uncle that I had recently lost. He apologized and told me that he was trying to call his daughter and must have gotten the wrong number. I couldn't help it - I broke down and told the man that I missed my uncle dearly and didn't get a last chance to tell him how much I loved him and how much that he meant to me.

 

The man on the line replied, softly, that he was sure that my uncle was in a better place, one where cancer didn't exist, where he could keep watch over and protect me...and that he was CERTAIN that my uncle knew how much I loved him. Then he added one thing...."I bet he never got to tell you how proud he was of you for becoming a teacher." He also told me that I should be at peace, because my uncle was. I thanked the man and he hung up.

 

I sat there for a minute...and realized that I had not mentioned ANYTHING to the man about being a teacher...NOTHING AT ALL! The hair started to stand up on the back of my arm. I looked at the number on my caller ID for about fifteen minutes before getting the courage to re-dial the number. The voice on the line said....

 

 

 

 

 

"We're sorry. The number you are trying to call has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

 

I tried it one more time that night, but got the same thing. Who knows what the real story is....but I can tell you one thing. I found peace that night. I know that my uncle knew how much he meant to me...and I was comforted in the thought that he was proud of me, too.

 

Not quite a shadow in a photo from a car, but indeed a special story to me. This is my one and only story like this, other than I do have a strange doorbell issue at my house that I can tell again sometime.

 

Needless to say, I shed a tear or two retelling this story...but I feel totally at peace. Happy Veterans Day, Uncle Donald!

 

I read this and think of the poem Footprints and see this is one of those supernatural incidents that God used an angel to reach out to one of his children that so desperately needed it.

 

A very touching story TB&G. Thanks for sharing with us.

RebelK, your posting privileges are close to being revoked. This must happen...

RebelK, your posting privileges are close to being revoked. This must happen...

 

 

 

Say it ain't so sticky. You are falling for it too? :sssh:

Say it ain't so sticky. You are falling for it too? :sssh:

 

That's not RebelK's M.O. BF, sure...

We played a round of golf quicker, than this photo posting, didn't we Professor.

 

:lol:

We sure did.