Hoosier_Vol
VFL Stuck in B1G Hell
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Paranormal Experiences
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orangebloodgmc
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Forgive me if I am repeating a story that I thought I had already told ...
My brother died from ALS, passing away in his own home. Some time after that we were in that same room and speaking of him. Two family dogs came into the room and began stepping towards and staring intently at the spot where his bed had been. There was nothing else in that spot. They were'nt growling, they were wagging their tails, but ignoring the rest of us. We spoke his name and said we would look after each other and he could rest in peace. I don't think this happened there again.
My brother died from ALS, passing away in his own home. Some time after that we were in that same room and speaking of him. Two family dogs came into the room and began stepping towards and staring intently at the spot where his bed had been. There was nothing else in that spot. They were'nt growling, they were wagging their tails, but ignoring the rest of us. We spoke his name and said we would look after each other and he could rest in peace. I don't think this happened there again.
Volosaurus rex
Doctorate in Volology
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Even the few accounts cited in this thread suggest a fascinating research project for paranormal investigators: What percentage of legitimate experiences occur in close proximity to the death of a loved one? That period is unquestionably marked by heightened emotional and spiritual sensitivity. Disturbance to sleep cycles in the death-bed vigil and immediate post-death period also could contribute to greater receptivity to such phenomena.
In the 69 years that I have walked this earth, I have experienced one and only one such event, and it fell precisely within the context outlined above. I recorded the details of that experience in the immediate aftermath of its occurrence, so that memory would not diminish its accuracy. The following account is quoted verbatim, with the only modification being deletion of my mother’s name to preserve privacy:
“On the night of April 19th, 2016, something truly extraordinary happened at the funeral home of Harpeth Hills Memory Gardens, which may be of particular interest to persons who share our fanatical devotion to Tennessee football. At approximately 5:55 pm, I was sitting in the quietude of the visitation room, where our mother [lay] in state, her coffin resplendently draped with a Tennessee orange fleece blanket. As you can imagine, it was a time of heightened emotional and spiritual sensitivity. At that moment, however, I had no expectations other than the opportunity to put the final editorial touches on the eulogy I would deliver for Mom the following day.
To my utter astonishment, I began to hear faintly but clearly the strains of “Fight, Vols, Fight,” followed by “Rocky Top.” These were no garden-variety renditions of those songs. They bore the unmistakable signatures of the Pride of the Southland Band. As a UT grad and fan of UT football for almost 50 years, I am thoroughly familiar with the context within which those songs are performed in the few, short minutes that immediately precede kickoff, just before the giant “T” opens and the Volunteers race onto the field.
I went to the visitation room entrance and, as the music continued to play, attempted on several occasions to identify its possible source. It seemed to be most audible through a ceiling vent to the left of the door. I have no idea how long the music lasted, but I asked several people if they heard it. Bob, my brother, said that he had heard nothing out of the ordinary. However, Phyllis Powell, one of the two visitation hosts then on duty, said that she clearly heard “Rocky Top.” After the music finally faded, I walked over to my deceased mother, gently stroked her hair and said, “Mom, are you trying to communicate something?”
The following morning, I asked Philip Charland, the Funeral Director, if, to his knowledge, any paranormal activity had ever been reported at their funeral home. He said, “No.” After informing him of what happened, Philip told me that they had, indeed, laid to rest a Tennessee fan on Tuesday, April 19th, but that the service was performed at another funeral home. Although they did have a recording of “Rocky Top” on file, it was not preceded by “Fight, Vols, Fight,” nor was it on the loop that was played at Harpeth Hills the evening prior to Mom’s funeral. I was also informed that nobody was ever in the upstairs offices at the time I heard this music. Nor was music ever played on cemetery grounds, except for a lone bugler at the occasional military funeral, and those never occurred after 3 pm. In short, the staff of Harpeth Hills Memory Gardens, Funeral Home & Cremation Center could not have been responsible for this music, particularly at the time I heard it.
To what or whom should these ethereal melodies be attributed? I don’t know. I must say, however, that their timing, although completely unexpected, was impeccable. Never before had I witnessed paranormal activity of any kind. Given the context of this event, however, its message was utterly perfect in terms of appropriateness to the recipient.
I can certainly understand why anybody would be skeptical of this narrative. As God is my witness, however, I have faithfully recounted the events of April 19, 2016, without exaggeration or embellishment whatsoever.
In relating this experience to persons who attended Mom’s funeral, I stated that Mom was “Pennsylvanian by birth, Tennessean by choice, but, through her endless patience in tolerating our fanatical devotion to Tennessee football, she EARNED her status as an honorary member of the Big Orange Nation.” After completion of graveside services and interment, I asked Dr. Bettye Davidson, the officiating minister, if, in her professional career, she had ever experienced or heard of anything remotely similar to the events I have just described. She replied simply, ‘No, Doug, you are one of a kind.’”
In the 69 years that I have walked this earth, I have experienced one and only one such event, and it fell precisely within the context outlined above. I recorded the details of that experience in the immediate aftermath of its occurrence, so that memory would not diminish its accuracy. The following account is quoted verbatim, with the only modification being deletion of my mother’s name to preserve privacy:
“On the night of April 19th, 2016, something truly extraordinary happened at the funeral home of Harpeth Hills Memory Gardens, which may be of particular interest to persons who share our fanatical devotion to Tennessee football. At approximately 5:55 pm, I was sitting in the quietude of the visitation room, where our mother [lay] in state, her coffin resplendently draped with a Tennessee orange fleece blanket. As you can imagine, it was a time of heightened emotional and spiritual sensitivity. At that moment, however, I had no expectations other than the opportunity to put the final editorial touches on the eulogy I would deliver for Mom the following day.
To my utter astonishment, I began to hear faintly but clearly the strains of “Fight, Vols, Fight,” followed by “Rocky Top.” These were no garden-variety renditions of those songs. They bore the unmistakable signatures of the Pride of the Southland Band. As a UT grad and fan of UT football for almost 50 years, I am thoroughly familiar with the context within which those songs are performed in the few, short minutes that immediately precede kickoff, just before the giant “T” opens and the Volunteers race onto the field.
I went to the visitation room entrance and, as the music continued to play, attempted on several occasions to identify its possible source. It seemed to be most audible through a ceiling vent to the left of the door. I have no idea how long the music lasted, but I asked several people if they heard it. Bob, my brother, said that he had heard nothing out of the ordinary. However, Phyllis Powell, one of the two visitation hosts then on duty, said that she clearly heard “Rocky Top.” After the music finally faded, I walked over to my deceased mother, gently stroked her hair and said, “Mom, are you trying to communicate something?”
The following morning, I asked Philip Charland, the Funeral Director, if, to his knowledge, any paranormal activity had ever been reported at their funeral home. He said, “No.” After informing him of what happened, Philip told me that they had, indeed, laid to rest a Tennessee fan on Tuesday, April 19th, but that the service was performed at another funeral home. Although they did have a recording of “Rocky Top” on file, it was not preceded by “Fight, Vols, Fight,” nor was it on the loop that was played at Harpeth Hills the evening prior to Mom’s funeral. I was also informed that nobody was ever in the upstairs offices at the time I heard this music. Nor was music ever played on cemetery grounds, except for a lone bugler at the occasional military funeral, and those never occurred after 3 pm. In short, the staff of Harpeth Hills Memory Gardens, Funeral Home & Cremation Center could not have been responsible for this music, particularly at the time I heard it.
To what or whom should these ethereal melodies be attributed? I don’t know. I must say, however, that their timing, although completely unexpected, was impeccable. Never before had I witnessed paranormal activity of any kind. Given the context of this event, however, its message was utterly perfect in terms of appropriateness to the recipient.
I can certainly understand why anybody would be skeptical of this narrative. As God is my witness, however, I have faithfully recounted the events of April 19, 2016, without exaggeration or embellishment whatsoever.
In relating this experience to persons who attended Mom’s funeral, I stated that Mom was “Pennsylvanian by birth, Tennessean by choice, but, through her endless patience in tolerating our fanatical devotion to Tennessee football, she EARNED her status as an honorary member of the Big Orange Nation.” After completion of graveside services and interment, I asked Dr. Bettye Davidson, the officiating minister, if, in her professional career, she had ever experienced or heard of anything remotely similar to the events I have just described. She replied simply, ‘No, Doug, you are one of a kind.’”
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508mikey
USPS Sucks
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JCHateSteve
Herald of the Meteor
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I can only think of one experience I've ever had that might qualify. I was in college and home for the summer. I was playing video games in the living room and got a weird feeling like someone was in the room. The hair stood on the back of my neck but when I turn around...nothing. I go back to my game and a couple seconds later it glitches and sends the digitized groan through the speakers and freezes on a weird pixilated screen. I have never seen a game console do anything like that before or or since. I get up, and discover there is a cold spot in the room directly behind my chair. I mean ice cold. It's maybe 2 feet by 2 feet. Never experienced anything like that anywhere else, and never again in my parents house. We moved their when I was 6 and my parents still live there.
I was a little freaked out. But, I got over it pretty quick. Until a several days later when I see an old friend's obituary. I had seen him recently but it had been a few years before that. I make some calls to find out what happened. He had been in a car wreck and had been in the ICU in a coma for a few days before passing. They had taken him off life support the same evening I had my strange experience. I can't tell you exactly how close the time lines up of course. But It 's a matter of a few hours, at most.
I didn't believe in ghosts then and still don't now. But try as I might I still can't explain what happened that night and the timing gives me pause.
I was a little freaked out. But, I got over it pretty quick. Until a several days later when I see an old friend's obituary. I had seen him recently but it had been a few years before that. I make some calls to find out what happened. He had been in a car wreck and had been in the ICU in a coma for a few days before passing. They had taken him off life support the same evening I had my strange experience. I can't tell you exactly how close the time lines up of course. But It 's a matter of a few hours, at most.
I didn't believe in ghosts then and still don't now. But try as I might I still can't explain what happened that night and the timing gives me pause.
on 2 different occasions, our dog was laying on the couch doing nothing, & all the sudden he popped his head up & started moving his head like he was watching something move down the hallway.
This has only happened once but he has walked to the entrance of the dining room & started growling. Freaked me out because he never ever barks or growls
This has only happened once but he has walked to the entrance of the dining room & started growling. Freaked me out because he never ever barks or growls
JustFunnN'Orange
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This is second hand info but, it's from my cousin with whom I'm very close and I've never known him to embellish a story.
In the 70's he was an avid fisherman and on this particular evening he was on the TN river at the "land between the lakes" area. It was dusk and he was about to finish his day. On his last cast he got a favorite plug hung on a low limb near the bank. He paddled over to retrieve the lure from the limb. As he brought it out he smelled something "awful" was his word. He looked at the bank and something large and dark in color ran thru the woods and disappeared in a couple of seconds. The woods were dense and it was almost dark so that's the only description he could give.
Take it for whatever it's worth.
CobbWebb71
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Tri-CitiesVol
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CobbWebb71
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I’ve had a couple of encounters.
I’m in an old building in downtown Knoxville, in the basement, which basically runs under several business, the length of an entire block of Gay street.
I’m in my own little world, taking inventory and making an order at around 5:00 in the morning.
I have access to this place after business hours, so I’m alone, no one else is there and the lighting is not very bright.
I feel someone walk past(behind) me and then let out a sigh.
I turn to find no one there, no one at all in the long hallway/basement!!
I have chill bumps as I type this!!
I walked my @$& out of there pretty quickly!
I’m in an old building in downtown Knoxville, in the basement, which basically runs under several business, the length of an entire block of Gay street.
I’m in my own little world, taking inventory and making an order at around 5:00 in the morning.
I have access to this place after business hours, so I’m alone, no one else is there and the lighting is not very bright.
I feel someone walk past(behind) me and then let out a sigh.
I turn to find no one there, no one at all in the long hallway/basement!!
I have chill bumps as I type this!!
I walked my @$& out of there pretty quickly!
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