Our story for this week comes from Sandy Harmon. When this one appeared on the podcast I had no way to track down where Sandy lived. However, after it aired on the show she contacted me and said that she hails from San Francisco. One of my favorite cities to visit!  Here is Sandy’s original email:

Thank you for the podcast. I listen to it each week and marvel at the stuff you come up with. It’s so entertaining. I have a story to share that happened to me this past summer. I want to title it Strange Encounter At Brooks Park. 

I was walking in a local park when I got this feeling that I was being followed. I turned around and there was no one there, but just to be on the safe side I took a second look. I kept on walking and coming from the other direction I saw an older man walking his dog. This made me feel a little better since now I wasn’t really alone but I still had the feeling that I was being watched. As I walked by the man he stopped me and asked if I had seen anyone in the area. I responded that I hadn’t, but asked him why he was asking. He told me that he had this strange sensation that he was being watched. I had to pick my jaw up from the sidewalk. I told him my story and we both laughed about it. We continued to talk when another lady came up to us and said that she couldn’t help but overhear us. Then she told us that she too had felt like someone had been following her and watching. This was too strange. We chatted a bit longer, thought that we must be crazy, laughed about that, and then went our separate ways.

That night I had a dream about walking in that very same park. I remember in my dream that I was looking around and a bum walked up to me and asked for some food. I told him that I was out walking and that I didn’t have anything for him this time. That was the dream, and the odd thing is that it felt so very real. The next morning I was listening to the radio and one of the stories that they were reporting was that the night before a transient man had been found passed away in that very park. He had died of natural causes and authorities were having trouble identifying him. I wanted to go to the police and share my story but I just couldn’t see how it would be helpful.   

Ron, that is my story and I hope you enjoyed it. It’s true and it probably doesn’t mean anything but I thought I should send it in. 

Sandy Harmon – San Francisco, CA.

This Week’s Podcast: On the show this week we have lots of original content. I love doing programming like this. There is a brand new Our Amazing Stories and A Moment In Time. Also, we have an OTR story from the classic series The Inner Sanctum and much more! You can listen to this podcast on Thursday at Ron’s Amazing Stories, download it from Apple Podcasts, stream it on Stitcher Radio or on the mobile version of Spotify. Do you prefer the radio? We are heard every Thursday at 10:00 pm and Sunday Night at 11:00 PM (EST) on AMFM247.COM. Check your local listing or find the station closest to you at this link

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This story first appeared during the Month Of Spooky 2018. It comes from Delia Powell who writes to us from Brooks, Wisconsin. When I receive emails or messages from folks I like to look at where these towns are on the map. When I went to research Brooks and had some trouble finding it and thought it was a fake. But, in the end, I did find it located in Central Wisconsin. There is hardly any information on the place and for good reason. Brooks is located at the intersection of County Road A & G in the New Chester Township close to the Upper Neenah Creek State Fishery Area. Needless to say, Brook is a small community of mostly full-time homes (think about that for a moment). It has a church with a bar & grill inside and a railroad on the Eastside. This area is mostly farms, woods, and wetlands. Now, here is Delia’s Story:

My Story begins when I was a little girl growing up in Madison, Wisconsin. My family lived in a very old house that was built in the early 1900s. This house has quite a history. It was at one time a brothel, a care facility for polio victims, and later a funeral home. My parents bought it in the early 1980s and as you might guess growing up there was interesting. To say the house was haunted is an understatement. We just got used to strange things going on. There were bumps in the night, apparitions going up and down the stairs, and of course the occasional scream. I could tell you a story from almost every day in my childhood, but there is one that stands as my favorite.

One of the owners of the house was a man by the name of Charles Barros. Not much is known about him other than he was a well-to-do businessman with a wife and seven children. He truly loved his family and took care of them the best he could. The story goes that one morning while going to work he stepped out onto the street. He was struck by a car and killed. His family was of course devastated and didn’t know what to do without him. They need not have worried because financially he left them in a very good position. They would live the rest of their lives in comfort. However, that was not enough for Charles; he wanted to do more. One of the ghosts that reside in the house is that of Charles Barros. It appears that even after death he continues to care for the house and its occupants. This is where my story begins.

One night my parents had gone out to a party and left us, kids, all home alone. My older sister Gwyneth was left in charge. It was getting late and she had sent us to our various bedrooms throughout the house when there was a crash in the downstairs living room. This was followed by angry voices telling someone to keep quiet. Our house was being robbed. All of us kids gathered up together and we were unsure what to do when we heard a scream come from downstairs. Then one of the men threw open the front door and ran out of the house. Soon to follow were the rest of his crew. One of the neighbors must have seen or heard something and had already called the police. The men ran right into the open arms of the gendarme. All of us kids sighed in relief and knew that we were safe.

The next morning father read us the newspaper. It carried the story of the men that had attempted to rob us. It said that the men had been terrified by an apparition of a man threatening them with a cane. It might interest you to know that on the main stairway landing is a picture painted of Charles Barros. In that picture, Charles is holding a very opulent walking cane. If you are interested and want to check you can find this story listed in the archives of The Daily Cardinal which is one of the newspapers in Madison.

Delia Powell –  Brooks Wisconsin.

I decided to call this story The Brooks Robbery and yes I know it took place in Madison. Thank you Delia for the story and thank you to everyone in Brooks, Wisconsin.

This Week’s Podcast: On the show this week we have a listener-submitted story from Comet Magazine, July 1941. It is a strange tale about the consequences of playing with the fourth dimension. You can listen to this podcast on Thursday at Ron’s Amazing Stories, download it from Apple Podcasts, stream it on Stitcher Radio or on the mobile version of Spotify. Do you prefer the radio? We are heard every Thursday at 10:00 pm and Sunday Night at 11:00 PM (EST) on AMFM247.COM. Check your local listing or find the station closest to you at this link

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Our story this week comes from Tony Stangert from California. I first received what I thought was a good story from Tony, but I thought it was missing some elements. After a few emails I got the rest of it and what started out as a good story is now epic. I won’t try to sway you. I will let the story do that. Here is Tony’s story!

In 2001 I was visiting a girlfriend in Monterey Bay. Karen and I decided to visit an art museum where they were presenting the works of the famous photographer Ansel Adams. The photos were from his historic venture into Yosemite National Park. His art simply took our breath away, especially when you consider the pictures were taken in 1927. At that time I was a free spirit and I convinced Karen that we should just go there and see for ourselves.

Yosemite was about 160 miles away and we arrived at the park at dusk. There was not much available for lodging but we did find a crappy motel about twenty minutes outside the park. The area had a few businesses, motels, a couple restaurants, a liquor store, and a gas station. All the buildings were separate and free-standing. However, I could not see a single residence. It was very odd for me having been raised in the city.

The motel was a drive-up to the door type and very outdated. Two things stood out in my memory. The floor model TV was still in black-and-white and the strange bathroom had cedar outdoor siding surrounding the tub. There was one other thing, and that was just how creepy the whole place was. At first, the novelty of it was fun, but then at two in the morning we were fleeing the room. We had finished setting up for the night and decided to head out for dinner and drinks. It was a small town, with no more than 50 people, but there were places open. We ate dinner, and had some fun, but wanted to be ready for a full day of exploring the park. So, we headed back to the motel early.

Back at the motel, we both had issues falling asleep even though we were exhausted from the trip. I turned on the old black-and-white TV to find a classic episode of Kojak playing. Finally, at around eleven we dozed off. At precisely two in the morning, the both of us woke up, sat up in bed in terror, and pain. Neither one of us was clear on what had just occurred, but we knew we had to leave and leave now. We grabbed our stuff, shot out of the room, and headed to the car. The motel office was closed so I threw the keys at the front door as we left.

About half an hour later we were parked at the Yosemite sign in a little pull-off. We both described the same experience. A very angry short man with long gray hair and an even longer beard was yelling about some woman. He was dressed in dungy overalls and had no shoes. He somehow subdued us and had put his hand into the center of our backs while we slept. This felt like a possession. It was so painful we both could still feel it even after we had left the motel. Karen was not in my dream and I wasn’t in hers. The physical pain lasted 10-15 minutes for both of us. To this day I am not sure what we experienced, but I do know I will never be back.

We slept in the car at that pull-off until the first bit of light woke us up. Sleep-deprived and bleary-eyed we made our way home. I remember driving past one of the cliffs we saw in the museum. Our perspective of it was much different than that of Ansel Adams. From our view, we were mostly just under it but we were satisfied and our goal was achieved.

At the first bit of civilization, we got a room at a real hotel. let’s say a Holiday Inn. We grabbed a six-pack, some fast food, and watched a color television. We went to sleep early that night, but sleep for us was messed up for a couple days. We got up early and drove to San Francisco for a full day of tourist stuff. 

Anthony Stangert – California

This Week’s Podcast:

On the show this week we have a radio classic and favorite story. It comes from the series Escape and is titled The Golden Snake. This one is a real adventure in the Yucatan that you won’t want to miss. You can listen to this podcast on Thursday at Ron’s Amazing Stories, download it from Apple Podcasts, stream it on Stitcher Radio or on the mobile version of Spotify. Do you prefer the radio? We are heard every Thursday at 10:00 pm and Sunday Night at 11:00 PM (EST) on AMFM247.COM. Check your local listing or find the station closest to you at this link

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