I loved my grandmother, but I HATED going over there to spend the night because it was basically haunted. There was a tunnel large enough for a child to crawl through that went way back directly under the house that I blogged about.

Mt train set was in the basement right next to the tunnel hole under the stairs, and I would always keep the basement door open when I was down there. They think it may have been a moonshiners tunnel from back in the 20s during prohibition when alcohol sales were illegal in America.

My sister crawled in there once, I refused.

I blogged about it a bit years ago in: The Hole under the Stairs....

The female ghost was known to my mother and aunts and uncles that grew up there. So she was a known thing. This area was known for mobsters, and it was said that she was killed by a jealous mob member and refused to move on.

Grandmom would order her out in the pitch black living room with a Bible in her hand. We were so scared, but once we tipped downstairs and saw some sort of diffuse humanoid shape talking to grandmom in a raspy voice as the streetlights peeked through the windows.

The kids that laughed about it at school, weren't laughing when they stayed the night, and nobody ever stayed twice. Grandmom was fearless though, and everytime she told that bitch to leave in the name of Jesus, she did. If you had lived with us for months at a time in that scary house, you would have believed it, because you would have seen (and heard) it yourself.