On Being rattled

Someone recently asked me, out of all of the hundreds of experiences I’ve had being haunted, which one rattled me the most.

There have been many times where I have been unnerved, but as I think about it this evening, one experience stands out off the top of my head.

I have told this story before but for the sake of the person who asked, I think it’s worth retelling.

For about 10 years my wife volunteered at the church by producing the weekly church bulletin. She would prepare it on Saturday and my job would be to go out to the church and make a couple hundred copies and fold them, placing them on the table in the foyer for the next morning’s services.

It was only at the end of that period that the experiences began to happen to me out at the church building.

Toward the end of her volunteer term, the information needed for the bulletin was being sent to her later and later on Saturday, which caused me to have to run out to the church sometimes between ten and eleven o’clock Saturday night.

On many of those late nights I would have very odd and disturbing experiences out at the church (but those are stories for later), but this one night was the culmination of all those happenings.

While folding the copies, I began to hear footsteps walking through the sanctuary around the corner. They were in constant stride yet never seemed to be getting any closer nor going any further away. Finally, I got up and went to the sanctuary and flipped on the light.

The room was empty.

After the third time I finally stood just outside the sanctuary, waiting. I decided that as soon as I heard the footsteps again, I was going to poke my head around the corner and catch whoever it was. But the footsteps never came.

Until I sat back down in the library to fold more papers, that is.

I finally finished up and was more than happy to get out of there, and as I was leaving, I heard what sounded like footsteps following me out through the dark church foyer.

I quickly opened the door and stepped onto the front porch of the church when suddenly I felt what I can only describe as the feeling of someone sticking their foot out to trip me.

I toppled down the concrete stairs, landing on the pavement, taking the skin off my knees.

The front door of the church slammed shut behind me.

I never went back at night after that.

About mosthauntedman

In 1968, at the age of 7, Andrew Paschen's family began what was to become a lifetime of hauntings. To this day, the hauntings have never stopped. Although his extended family members still have experiences from time to time, his have continued on a regular basis. He may be America's Most Haunted Man.
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