I live in South Eastern Kentucky, born and raised. My granny always told the best spooky stories, most of which were true. The one I think of the most is the story of a house referred to in our area as the, “Mimie Day house.”
For some background info:
My granny grew up in severe poverty and was a housekeeper for a wealthy old woman. Said woman (let’s call her Jane) was a widow and was incredibly cheap and strict. Her late husband’s name was “Paul” and they both did well for themselves residing over a general store across from an old one-room schoolhouse. When Jane’s father was on his death bed, she and Paul went to see him one last time. Jane held her fathers hand as he struggled to speak. When he finally did, he said:
“I hate to tell you this…but the two of you are brother and sister.”
Their lives turned upside down. A few days later, Jane found Paul’s body in their bed–a bullet wound to his temple.
Once-sweet Jane became callous and crass, adapting to the life of being a widow. Most people began to avoid her. She hired my granny years and years after Paul had committed suicide.
It was fall and the leaves had begun to blanket the ground–granny had been working for Jane for quite some time at this point. On this evening, granny was crocheting in one corner of the living room while Jane sat in her rocking chair watching a movie on her black and white television. In said movie a woman and her husband had been arguing, it turned physical, and after a lot of struggle the woman ultimately ended the life of her spouse.
Jane watched the scene enraptured. When the movie husband fell to the ground, Jane smacked her hands together and said to herself in awe, “she killed her man too!”
Granny told me she thought for sure Jane would kill her that night but somehow she saw daylight the next morning, busted out of the house, and never went back.
It was said that the school house across from Jane’s brick home was haunted. So much so that to this day people refuse to look in their rearview mirrors when they pass the rubble of it. The schoolhouse had been there long before Jane and Paul built their home and store across the road from it.
But the true beast of this story is the Mimie Day house that sat across from Jane’s, beside of the old schoolhouse.
When the remains of the Mimie Day house barely stood, people would make “brave” visits to the skeleton of the home to prove themselves to their friends. It was reported that hanging wallpaper would wave around furiously though no wind would be blowing.
My great grandparents had the misfortune of living in the Mimie Day house.
They had three children together–one of which being my granny. The five of them shared a bedroom. Men shared one bed, the lady’s shared the other.
My granny would tell of her dad seeing my great granny get out of bed one night and leave the house to use the outside toilet. He waited and waited for her to come back, at this point needing to use the restroom badly too. He finally couldn’t wait anymore and decided to look for her as he went to the toilet. It was when he got out of bed that he saw her asleep with their daughters in the neighboring bed–unmoved and deep asleep.
He stayed in that night.
They would also tell story of turning the kitchen light out at night and looking through the kitchen window, out at the fence in the near distance. Only to see a head staked on a fence post. They would turn the light on and look and the head wouldn’t be there. But everytime the light was off it was.
Long before my great grandparents moved into the house, another couple did.
They reportedly never caught a wink of sleep. For every night when it was time for bed and they got nice and settled in…the whispering started. Quick and indecipherable, as if it was crawling beneath the wallpaper all throughout the house.
The lady finally had enough and called the local doctor to spend the night at their residence. Only, this wasn’t an ordinary doctor. Granny wouldn’t say it outright but this was a doctor who dealt with patients of the spirit, not of the flesh.
He came strolling in one winter, win his briefcase of oddities and had a late supper with the tired couple.
They gave him lodging on a small cot in their living room and they turned in for bed.
It wasn’t long before the whispering started up–hissing and slithering among the house, hiding in every nook and cranny.
The couple ran fearfully to the living room were the doctor was already standing.
He looked into the fire blazing in the large stone fireplace and began to question it.
In a strong voice he asked, “what in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost are you?”
The fire seemed to grow brighter at the question.
The whispering got louder and so did the doctor, questioning the fire place once more.
The flames flickered violently and the whispering became so incessant that the couple covered their ears as the doctor began to yell.
“I DEMAND YOU TELL ME; WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE HOLY GHOST ARE YOU?!”
The fire went out.
In its place a small voice called out:
“Remove the bones from beneath the hearthstone and we will leave.”
Soon enough the ground was broken beneath the fireplace, shovels made quick work, and adolescent bones were found deep beneath the ashes and dirt.
The couple never heard the whispering again after burying the bones of the children.
‐———————————————————————
Sorry to have written a book ? there was just too much history of that land not to incorporate it somehow. The Mimie Day house haunts me to this day. I get chills even typing about it. There is so much more to talk about but I will shut up for now.
submitted by /u/LopsidedCamera
[link] [comments]I live in South Eastern Kentucky, born and raised. My granny always told the best spooky stories, most of which were true. The one I think of the most is the story of a house referred to in our area as the, “Mimie Day house.” For some background info: My granny grew up in severe poverty and was a housekeeper for a wealthy old woman. Said woman (let’s call her Jane) was a widow and was incredibly cheap and strict. Her late husband’s name was “Paul” and they both did well for themselves residing over a general store across from an old one-room schoolhouse. When Jane’s father was on his death bed, she and Paul went to see him one last time. Jane held her fathers hand as he struggled to speak. When he finally did, he said: “I hate to tell you this…but the two of you are brother and sister.” Their lives turned upside down. A few days later, Jane found Paul’s body in their bed–a bullet wound to his temple. Once-sweet Jane became callous and crass, adapting to the life of being a widow. Most people began to avoid her. She hired my granny years and years after Paul had committed suicide. It was fall and the leaves had begun to blanket the ground–granny had been working for Jane for quite some time at this point. On this evening, granny was crocheting in one corner of the living room while Jane sat in her rocking chair watching a movie on her black and white television. In said movie a woman and her husband had been arguing, it turned physical, and after a lot of struggle the woman ultimately ended the life of her spouse. Jane watched the scene enraptured. When the movie husband fell to the ground, Jane smacked her hands together and said to herself in awe, “she killed her man too!” Granny told me she thought for sure Jane would kill her that night but somehow she saw daylight the next morning, busted out of the house, and never went back. It was said that the school house across from Jane’s brick home was haunted. So much so that to this day people refuse to look in their rearview mirrors when they pass the rubble of it. The schoolhouse had been there long before Jane and Paul built their home and store across the road from it. But the true beast of this story is the Mimie Day house that sat across from Jane’s, beside of the old schoolhouse. When the remains of the Mimie Day house barely stood, people would make “brave” visits to the skeleton of the home to prove themselves to their friends. It was reported that hanging wallpaper would wave around furiously though no wind would be blowing. My great grandparents had the misfortune of living in the Mimie Day house. They had three children together–one of which being my granny. The five of them shared a bedroom. Men shared one bed, the lady’s shared the other. My granny would tell of her dad seeing my great granny get out of bed one night and leave the house to use the outside toilet. He waited and waited for her to come back, at this point needing to use the restroom badly too. He finally couldn’t wait anymore and decided to look for her as he went to the toilet. It was when he got out of bed that he saw her asleep with their daughters in the neighboring bed–unmoved and deep asleep. He stayed in that night. They would also tell story of turning the kitchen light out at night and looking through the kitchen window, out at the fence in the near distance. Only to see a head staked on a fence post. They would turn the light on and look and the head wouldn’t be there. But everytime the light was off it was. Long before my great grandparents moved into the house, another couple did. They reportedly never caught a wink of sleep. For every night when it was time for bed and they got nice and settled in…the whispering started. Quick and indecipherable, as if it was crawling beneath the wallpaper all throughout the house. The lady finally had enough and called the local doctor to spend the night at their residence. Only, this wasn’t an ordinary doctor. Granny wouldn’t say it outright but this was a doctor who dealt with patients of the spirit, not of the flesh. He came strolling in one winter, win his briefcase of oddities and had a late supper with the tired couple. They gave him lodging on a small cot in their living room and they turned in for bed. It wasn’t long before the whispering started up–hissing and slithering among the house, hiding in every nook and cranny. The couple ran fearfully to the living room were the doctor was already standing. He looked into the fire blazing in the large stone fireplace and began to question it. In a strong voice he asked, “what in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost are you?” The fire seemed to grow brighter at the question. The whispering got louder and so did the doctor, questioning the fire place once more. The flames flickered violently and the whispering became so incessant that the couple covered their ears as the doctor began to yell. “I DEMAND YOU TELL ME; WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON, AND THE HOLY GHOST ARE YOU?!” The fire went out. In its place a small voice called out: “Remove the bones from beneath the hearthstone and we will leave.” Soon enough the ground was broken beneath the fireplace, shovels made quick work, and adolescent bones were found deep beneath the ashes and dirt. The couple never heard the whispering again after burying the bones of the children. ‐——————————————————————— Sorry to have written a book ? there was just too much history of that land not to incorporate it somehow. The Mimie Day house haunts me to this day. I get chills even typing about it. There is so much more to talk about but I will shut up for now. submitted by /u/LopsidedCamera [link] [comments]
