Forget storm chasing.  Forget sky diving.  Not interested in bungee jumping.  I want one of those jobs where I can be a ghost hunter.  I do believe in ghosts and have unfortunately experienced one or two in my time.  The creepiest was in college when I saw my bedroom door open, heard footsteps walk to my bed, the chain on the light began swinging, the footsteps retreated, and the door closed.  I learned two weeks later that a woman had died a violent death in that house and her body was found where my bed was positioned.  I rearranged my room and was never bothered again.

As I watched it years ago, I thought the movie “The Blair Witch Project” was really lame.  Until the end.  You know the end…. the boy in the corner. It gave me the willies to the same degree that the story of the Bell Witch makes my hair stand on end.  So I was fascinated when I read this by Just Another Pilgrimage about a trip to Adams, Tennessee.

It began with a sighting of a strange animal in the cornfield. The family began to hear strange noises, thumbs and scratches on the walls coming from unseen forces. The noises seemed to escalate, then turning into more tangible happenings. Bedsheets were pulled off the bed while the family slept. Pillows were tossed around, and finally, physical assaults on John and his daughter, Betsy.

One of the commenters, an ancestor of the John Bell, said his family still experiences hauntings. 

I pass the Adams exit off of I-24 every time I head to my parents’ place in Kentucky. One of these days, I’m going to stop.