|In July, 2002, Jolene and I traveled to Tombstone Arizona and stayed in the Buford House, a reportedly haunted bed and breakfast. Prior to this trip, I was
extremely skeptical that ghosts really were anything other than the product of overactive imaginations. However, the events of that night changed my perspective
The Buford House is a plain, two-story adobe structure situated on a quiet street. The proprietors, Ruth and Richard Allen are some of the nicest folks a person
could ever meet. Our room was downstairs, and had a private entrance with a little side porch where we could go to smoke. In there room were a double bed, a
dresser, and a small sofa that converted into a bed. On the surface, nothing seemed unusual.
We knew it was supposed to be haunted, having seen it featured on "Haunted History" on the History Channel. But, I really did not expect to experience anything.
Richard took us on a tour of the home and gave us a brief history. He said he did not want to tell us too much about the ghosts and what they did because he did not
want to influence us. (I thought, yeah, because there isn't anything to tell.)
I don't remember exactly what time we went to bed, but it must have been about 11:00. I slept in the double bed, and she opened out the sofa and made her bed
Later I was awakened with a jolt. I mean an actual jolt. I was lying on my stomach, sound asleep, when it felt like I was hit in the middle of my back with 220 volts
of electricity. (Now this could not have been faked by the owners because my back was not on the mattress.) There was a tingling sensation running up my spine and
down my legs, and I could not move. It was as if I was being held in place. Then the weirdest thing of all happened: I felt the covers being slid off my body--not to
the floor, but toward the center of the bed. Someone (or something) was pushing the covers off me. Then I felt a hand stroking my back side. I still could not move.
Jolene came to the bed and said someone had been calling her name so loudly, it woke her up. When she began talking to me, whatever it was that had me, let go.
Both of us were scared witless. I got up, got fully dressed, and we spent the next two hours on the outside porch before we got enough courage to go back inside.
I did not tell Richard and Ruth about what happened to me because at the time, I was embarrassed that the entity had touched my rear end. Now I can talk about it
because I have had time to sort it out and realize, I have nothing to be embarrassed about.
Would I ever go back to the Buford House? In a heartbeat, only this time I would not be afraid. I think I would try to interact with who-or what-ever it was.
|Thank you Judy, we really love expanding our story section with great encounters! Yours is really fantastic. The Buford House has a real history!