walks in peak district

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Crowden Clough by Andrew Kearton
Via Flickr:

It Runs in the Family

“After a recent paranormal incident involving my (not deceased) grandmother, something became apparent to me. Every female on my mother’s side of the family has has some sort of psychic/paranormal incident in their lifetime. Including myself.

Let’s start on the vaguest account–my great-grandmother’s incident. With my great-grandmother being dead the only details I know are vague and from my grandmother, but here’s the gist: My great-grandmothers brother had recently passed away, my great-grandmother got up and went about her everyday life, but she saw he deceased brother within the house. Not very creepy, I know. But one thing she said which is a reoccurring theme in this tale–‘If I hadn’t known better you’d never have convinced me he wasn’t alive and looking at me.’

Now, let’s move on to my grandmother’s account. She was walking down a road with a friend of the family in the Peak District, when they saw a low-flying WW2 plane fly past, not everyone seemed to notice it, and there wasn’t any historic plane fanatics about weird right? When she went home, my grandmother looked up plans flights in the area–stumbled upon an article about Peak District ghost planes. It took her time to come to terms with it, but her stories closely parallels with the accounts of the planes. It was quiet–then a roaring engine came out of nowhere, a low flying plane flew over the lane so low the trees nearly brushed it’s underbelly, it disappeared from view and the noise stopped. My grandmother said: ‘You’d have never convinced me it wasn’t real.’

My mother’s experience is an anomaly, she is a nurse so naturally her place of work is a bit rife with spirits. There are several stories from her colleagues, but one linked to her is this: My mother and a few of her colleagues were working in an isolated room with a patient. When suddenly everything went quiet, and it felt like someone had walked out of the room, then the heart rate monitor made the long beeep that is associated with death. My mothers thoughts–“We all knew they had died before the monitor had told us–as we’re the only person who could leave without opening a door.”

For my story–it is odd and largely inconsistent. I have always been awkward and uncomfortable in churches and graveyards. Always, but once I had to walk through the cemetery alone to get to my grandmother’s on my dad’s side of the family. When I could’ve sworn I was being followed, each time I turned nobody was there. It wasn’t ‘till I exited the geometry at the other side the feeling went away, I turned one last time and I saw the ends of a tailcoat disappear behind the gates. Now whenever I walk through I get the sensation and I keep seeing the same ends of a tailcoat or a dark-haired stranger in period clothing disappearing behind a family grave.” 

By: @theagenderwriter