In the summer of 2010, I was swinging by on my lunch break to visit the boys at Pirate Printing when my buddy Ronnie said we had to go up to the third floor. We trucked it up to the top as he was telling me that some workers laid out some tar paper that was to be used on the roof the next day. When they came in that morning, here is what they found:
Just above center, a child-sized footprint (toes down) in what appeared to be white powder.
The paper was about ten feet in length. The footprints went clear across that length and disappeared. No trace of the little feet on the floor past the paper.
Ronnie and I had each put a footprint on the edge of the paper, leaving a dirt print (not white like the bare footprints). We looked for traces of there being a “staging” of this event like we were CSI. Any dust that might have kicked up where a tub of powder (or even something to stand on to not leave marks on the floor) might have been. There was nothing. A thin layer of undisturbed dirt still graced the floor all around that paper of that 125 year old building.
Since then, I have heard noises, listened to a series of stories, seen shadows and, unbelievably, witnessed a flash inside the building that lit every window up on morning on my way in to work.
Can I explain any of it? No.
Do I believe in ghosts? Depends on your definition.
Do I think it’s cool? Hell yeah!