The Ghost on the Stairs

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My mom’s mom didn’t come to live with us until I was two years old because she had remained in occupied Latvia and now found herself behind the Iron Curtain. My parents found a Latvian woman who had arrived in New York around the time my parents did to be a nanny to me. I really missed her once my grandma arrived because I was so used to her. When I became seven my parents took me with them when they went to visit their friends in an old, large house in which my nanny lived in the renovated attic. While my parents visited with their friends I would climb these really long steep stairs to visit this lady. One time I was climbing the stairs when I heard a voice. I looked about me but saw no one. Then I looked up toward the landing and saw a tall, thin man standing there. If I would have to describe him to you I guess you could say he looked a lot like Scrooge would look from the Christmas story about him. It is strange that I wasn’t afraid because he just sort of stood there mumbled something and then disappeared. What I was thinking heaven knows but it certainly wasn’t like in the Hollywood movies when the child starts to scream. I continued upstairs and he appeared again and showed me a doorway. Well I didn’t stop I kept going and reached the attic and my nanny. When I told her about this she said the oddest thing to me. She told me that I shouldn’t listen to the voices. I don’t think she believed me when I said that I also saw the man but she certainly believed me when I said I heard voices. Afterwards many years later I got curious about this old house and that man and how he mumbled. I asked my parents’ friends if they knew anything about the house and who had lived there before they purchased it. It was then that they looked at me strangely and asked if at any time I had seen anything or heard anything. I told them about my experience when I was seven. At this time I must have been about eleven and my nanny had died. It was then that they told me the story about their house. At one time the house had been a boarding house. That was why from the attic all the way down three floors it had rooms along the sides on each floor where tenants had rented rooms. To make extra money they also rented out rooms on the third floor and used the rooms on the second and first floors. The house was divided so that any of the tenants could come down the stairs and reach the front hallway and go out the door without disturbing the owners. Before they had purchased the house they were informed that it came with an unfortunate ghostly tenant. Apparently a man who had rented the room which he had pointed out to me on the third floor had become very lonely and depressed. One day the owners at that time had discovered that he had hung himself in his room. Ever since that time he had chosen not to leave the boarding house but to stay there. Most of the time you could see him on the stairs but no one who saw him knew what he wanted to tell them and you could see him enter through the door what was once his room. I was absolutely fascinated and I asked if anyone was renting that particular room. They informed me that because of the story and because their other tenants were also bumping into the ghost now and then but had no objections to living there as long as he didn’t come into their rooms it occurred to me that what was bothering this particular ghost was the he was lonely. Even after taking his life he chose to stay in the boarding house perhaps to finally make some friends sort of like Casper the friendly ghost. At least he didn’t have to deal with living day in and day out. He had given up on all of the problems that the living had and still had the problem of loneliness because his room was not occupied. Well I was too young to really suggest anything but I did tell them to rent the room and see what happened. I know what you’re thinking who would want to rent a room that comes with its own ghost. Well me for instance but I was only eleven. They finally found a retired woman in her seventies who decided that it didn’t bother her since she was all alone in the world anyway. Needless to say the ghost was delighted. He sat with her while she watched TV and while she ate or had tea and in turn she didn’t feel as lonely. He became so cheerful that he no longer just stood on the stairs watching everybody coming and going but greeted them politely and picked up objects when they fell like newspapers falling out of paper bags. Eventually many more years later the owners became old and when the woman’s husband died she sold the house. Telling you this story I wonder what ever happened to the ghost and if he is still living there unless of course by now the house has been knocked down or rebuilt.