this one time at band camp...just kidding. This is a ghost post.

I remember the first time I ever saw a ghost.  I dont know that I had ever encountered one before that, maybe I had, and just didnt realize what I was seeing. I will never forget this day. ever.  It was not a dream or a fleeting memory.  It is seared into my mind, I can still, 27 years later, remember every detail, every emotion. I can, without a doubt, say I saw a ghost.

They say Children are a lot more prone to seeing spirits. I am probably one of those who has always attracted them.  My mom has always told me of wierd experiences. Her son, my older brother, has always had wierd experiences.  I guess I grew up just knowing that there was life after death. I have always believed that the Spirit World is all around us, and sometimes we are able to catch a glimpse into it. Maybe there is a veil that separates us. Maybe sometimes that veil is thin and we are able to have experiences. i dont necessarily see them. i HAVE seen them, just few and far between. I feel them.  I hear them.  I experience odd things. I see those I know who have passed on regularly in my dreams. They come to comfort me. They come to give me advice. They come to chat. Maybe I am lucky to have one of those special gifts.  Ghosts dont scare me. They have never scared me. in fact I can remember being a young child, just learning how to read  and going into my brothers room and borrowing his "scary ghost Stories" books. To me they were fascinating, not spooky or scary. I have always known that Ghosts were just a part of my life. Love me, love my ghosts.  It is just a fact .  charles says I am crazy and there is no such things as ghosts.  Well I think he is crazy.  If he saw or experienced just a portion of what I have he would change his mind and apologize all day for having ever doubted me.  But that is one of those agree to disagree things we have.
Anyway, I digress.

I was about 7 years old. We lived in Columbus Ohio. There was nothing terribly unusual about the house we lived in, I cant recall any wierd goings on, or encounters at that particular location.
I was in my room. It was early morning, probably around 530 or 6am.  It wasnt quite the dawn, it was the point of almost there,  to where the room was just light enough to see everything in detail and some color.
I woke up because I had to use the bathroom. i remember laying in my bed, debating whether or not I REALLY had to go and whether or not I REALLY wanted to get up.  As I was laying there, I was looking at the end of my bed, at my closet door, which was closed.  Right before my very eyes a figure appeared.
It was a Native American Man, probably in his 40s or 50s. He had long dark hair. He was in full native clothing, including a large feathered headdress. I would estimate he was about 5'7 or 5'8.

He looked similar to this image, though not as old and his actual clothing wasnt as ornate.
His clothing was dark, probably a dark blue. His headdress was black and white, or greyand white, possibly blue and white.
He wasnt dressed in the stereotypical native garb you see in the old movies, or that my young mind was used to seeing when we would go see Blue Jacket or Tecumseh at the outdoor theaters in chillecothe.
He stood there, still, ramrod straight ,tall and proud. I remember  the feathers on his headdress made a slight whirring, rustling sound though there was no breeze.  the air practically crackled and I felt every hair on my arms and legs stand straight up. My neck tingled, my stomach got the flight or fight butterflies.  My mouth felt sour and my ears were almost buzzing.
I lay in bed, covers up to my nose, not knowing what to do.
He looked at me.  Assessing me. Looking through me.  I dont think he knew I was there. It was as if he was just there, in my dimension, not really seeing what was around. His hand lifted as if to say Hi, but he wasnt looking at me. He was looking past me, to the left of me.
Nothing was said. What seemed an eternity passed, though I know it was probably 5-10 seconds.
Finally my young bladder could take no more, I sat up and called for my mom.  As her footsteps got closer the Ghost disappeared. Just faded away, a vision that had gone dark and faded to nothingness.
My mom opened the door and said "what do you need?".
I told her I had to go to the bathroom and there was an Indian Ghost that was in my room.
She took me to the toilet and asked what was wrong with me. I was 7 years old and I could go to the bathroom on my own. why did I feel the need to call her.?
I told her what I had seen and she asked me if I was sure. She said it was probably a dream and I told her I was awake the whole time.  I was so positive of what I had seen, she no longer questioned me.
It was the last we ever talked about  that particular ghost. She never tried to tell me it was my imagination. She never doubted me.
since that day, I have not seen him again.
I would try and wake up early just to catch another glimpse. I talked out loud to him, trying to convince him to show himself to me again. Nothing.
Maybe it was a lucky fluke that he showed up.  Maybe he showed up regularly when I was asleep, kind of a residual energy. Who knows.
All I know is that I saw him.
To this day I still research Indians of Central Ohio. trying to catch a photograph, maybe figure out who my ghost was, or what tribe.
The picture is of Bill Moose Crowfoot, who was one of the last surviving Wyandot Indians.
This is as close as I have found to the Ghost I saw in my room that night. 

We lived in Columbus Ohio off of Refugee rd, near eastland mall and easthaven Elementary.
any ideas??