From GHOST STORIES of TEXAS by Ed Syers published 1981 by Texian Press
Watchers from the Wall.
I have a psychic friend who believes that on the instant of some deaths, violent ones, generally, there occurs an explosion of such intense emotion as to leave an enduring imprint on close by surroundings, much as a flash of light would affect camera film.
Pure, untested conjecture, He admits, Yet perhaps it leads us to this House, not far off the highway near Bay City. It is a comfortably handsome house, pink brick and dark stained wood, rambling in the fashion of a few years ago, and certainly one which the casual passerby would never view as haunted.
Yet haunted it is, and it’s way more so than any I have seen in Texas.
Aside from husband Bob and wife Eva, call them the Stacy’s, and two of their four children, Other presences abide there. There is a woman, a LISSOME, long haired beauty, and a man not quite so distinct, and quite possibly their child. They have been seen too often and by too many to dismiss to imagination.
What they have done to the Stacy household, none of it more harmful than a sudden startling that disrupts tranquil living, requires more space than this story is allowed.
Most incredible of all, and here my psychic friends theory seems to emerge, their forms and features are gradually materializing on the wood paneling of the Stacy living room over the last few years, a slowly developing photograph.
The lovely, long haired woman is indisputably distinct, The man is now making full form.
In 1966,, not long after the house was built, Bob’s father visited and became absorbed with the living room’s north wall paneling. The wood grain was changing, he insisted. The face of a young woman was making form. No one else could see it. The matter was dismissed, and so were the little disturbances that seemed immediately to begin.
Untouched doors open and closed. Dishes rattled in an empty kitchen. Household articles were moved, lights came on and off.
In 1974, Bob Stacy told me it seemed that the woman’s face suddenly came into focus all at once, We could see her, and there was a brightness in the panel about all about her face
Wife Eva was first to take the visitations seriously. She returned home from a shopping trip to hear someone inside. No one was there. Shortly afterward, she returned to the house so briefly that she left the front door ajar. On leaving again, she found it locked from the inside. Still, no one was in the house.
Some time thereafter, Eva was gathering clothes to be washed and turning toward the hall, saw a tall, slender young woman pass her doorway. Rushing to it, she saw nothing but empty hallway. But she knew what she had seen. The face on the wall was becoming clearer.
Husband Bob’s acceptance was soon to come.
Home from work, he relaxed by the television with his son, the only other family member in the house. Then in the hallway, a woman began to hum, Could his wife have returned with the girls? He called, then looked. No one was there. Perplexed, he returned to the TV, set, then was thunderstruck with the appearance of two legs, mid thigh down, walking into the room, standing before him for a moment, and then vanishing.
That night, a daughter awakened to see two shadows against her bedroom wall. They touched, as though in an embrace, then vanished. She lay still in her bed, knowing that what had awoken her, the shadow had been talking. Not only was the woman with them, so was the man. Later, a man’s disembodied head drifted down the hallway.
Son Brad soon would confirm both presences, each appearing while he was phoning.
As he sat on the bed, this phone was in the master bedroom, a middle aged man, walked directly between his startled gaze and the wall and disappeared, apparently through the wall. The second visitation came while he was using the kitchen phone. Some cold sense turned him sharply. At arm’s length. He saw a long haired woman confronting him for an instant and then disappeared.
This has been happening for about nine years, Bob Stacy told me. As nearly as we can make it out. They moved into the house while they were away. He was working in Alice on a job for more than six months and the home was empty when they got back, they were here for sure. The Stacy’s made it clear that neither drank or smoked and never missed Sunday Mass.
“Little by little”, he said, “we began to realize that they meant no harm, and we’ve simply stuck it out”.
Husband Bob, seated on the bed, has felt his wife seat herself opposite his turned back. Talking with her, he has looked around to find the room is empty. In their game room, at the pool table, the game has been joined. A pocketed billiard ball has been tossed back into and onto the table. A mist shot, motionless on the table, has suddenly steered itself into a pocket. More than once, the family has gone to bed on. And the game room lights have turned on.
A visiting cousin resting from shooting baskets, outside was confronted with a basketball dribbling from its shelf around two corners and straight down the hallway.
An aunt, on visit, walked from the kitchen with a glass of water. Midway down the dark hall, the glass was whisked from her hand. To this day, the family have never found the glass and there was no place where water was spilled.
They seem to like playing with water. While you’re taking a shower, they cut off the hot water. One night I was in the hallway. I was alone and it was dark. I caught a glass of water right in the face. Meaning. It was as if someone had thrown a glass of water into his face. It came from nowhere.
Who are they? Where do they come from? There is a local tale that tells about 1830. According to this old story, a family came picnicking up from the tiny, just founded little coastal town of Matagura. They disappeared close by this spot. Never to be seen or heard from again.
