My parents provided me with a great childhood that I didn’t realize when I was just a kid. I never gave my parents any trouble when I was a teenager but when I was a kid I was a free spirit. I was punished when I didn’t obey the rules. Many of their rules were places I wasn’t supposed to go. One of these was an old spooky graveyard a couple of blocks from our home. They were concerned that we might get hurt and not that we were fascinated with wispy ghosts. My Dad shared a lot of ghost stories that he had come across. I remember he was interested in a house in Paris, Kentucky where an apparition appeared most any time. I am sure that he knew the story about this house but he never shared it.
My Mom read with such expression and dialects were her specialties. I loved to hear her read “Little Orphant Annie” by James Whitcomb Riley. (and the wind goes wooooo) I still have her book, "The Complete Works Of James Whitcomb Riley.” Another favorite was from Robert Lewis Stevens’ “The Children’s Garden Of Verses” called “My Shadow.” (And I see him jump before me when I jumped into my bed) We always loved for her to tell ghost stories with us because her expressions could make us squirm.
Have a great scary day!
