Author Archives: Ethan Kasicki

Grandma’s Perfume

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

WP got this story from a friend, who fully believes they have been haunted by the ghost of their grandmother. WP mentions the following excerpt is a selection of occurrences told to him by his friend over the course of several weeks and months. The excerpt below is paraphrased for clarity, but the maximum effort was put in to maintain the styling and story of WP.

WP has a friend who lives in great aunt’s former house (great aunt died, family moved in afterwards). 10-15 years ago, great aunt died (family moved in 7-8 years ago). Aunt wore a very specific perfume, but none had been left in the house anymore for years. The friend claims she’s being haunted by her great aunt. One time, she hears a crash in the basement, when she goes to the basement she smells overwhelming scent of the perfume from seemingly nowhere. At other times, she would get a random whiff without rhyme or reason…on stormy days, she says she can smell the perfume much more than usual. As it has been so long since the aunt died, friend claims it must be a haunting. Apparently, the great aunt isn’t vengeful, just kinda hanging around still.

The story told by WP comes from someone who very strongly believes in ghosts and has interacted with them enough to be fully confident that the experiences she had are due to a haunting. However, the paranormal interactions haven’t led to any harm, even noting that after the crash, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss in the basement. As such, WP claimed that he didn’t believe the friend thought the ghost was vengeful or angry in any way. Instead, the ghost could be the great aunt protecting her former home and her descendants by letting them know she is still present. The perfume smell being the strongest indicator of the great aunt’s presence could be linked to the family’s perception of the most memorable aspect of the great aunt, and shows a close tie to the familial home that had been passed down over a generation. WP’s friend also mentions that while the hauntings happen at their home, it is WP’s friend herself who is haunted, and not the house. The specificity to add that they themselves are haunted indicates that the relationship between WP’s friend and her great aunt was especially close, and the memory of the great aunt holds special significance to the friend. Both the house and the perfume are intrinsically linked with the great aunt, and for as long as WP’s friend continues to honor her aunt’s memory, the haunting will continue, as her aunt will look down on her from the spirit world into the world of the living, as the next generation to lead her memory and all that she meant into the future.

Ice Cream Scholarship

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

This story comes from BT, who was told it by his grandpa. The excerpt below comes as a section of a longer conversation, but has been pieced together for coherence and clarity. Great care was taken to preserve the language and intent of BT during this story, and was paraphrased for greater readability.

BT’s grandpa on his dad’s side was the youngest of 9 children, and the second one closest to him was 5 years older. At the time, they lived in Fort Madison on the river (a small town in Iowa). In high school, he gets a job at an ice cream shop for like 5 years up until he goes to college. The deal he had with the ice cream shop was that he got paid a few cents for the hours of work (he would get up really early and have to clean the entire store before it opened). As additional compensation, the catch was the fact that he got as much ice cream as he could ever want for free while working. While cleaning up, BT’s grandpa would mix ice cream in the machines, making super thick ice cream (going for like 3 hours). He would always put on the whole thing, peanuts, the works (for toppings). Grandpa does this for 5 years, and eventually has so much dairy, etc. that he bloats out, but also working out a lot, cleaning the store for hours, he becomes a super big kid (fat and muscle). Back when college was kinda cheap, he did his interview for the University of Iowa, to hopefully be accepted into university. He goes into the interview for the college, and the interviewer mistakes him for a football recruit. As a result, he gets a full-ride scholarship to go to Iowa without ever playing a down of football for the school, without anyone seemingly bothered to confirm his status for the entire 4 years.

This story about BT’s grandpa highlights the principle of “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” but is instead explained in narrative fashion. While BT’s grandpa didn’t do anything particularly remarkable to receive his full-ride scholarship, he never complained and would routinely brag about his good fortune to both friends and family alike. BT, from the conversation, contained a mix of both pride in his family’s story, defending its values against others listening in, and a twinge of envy for the fortune to have college paid for in full. This story, while perhaps slightly mundane, still teaches a valuable lesson in appreciating the good breaks one gets in life, and to make sure to take every available opportunity, regardless of the pathway it could lead down. As BT’s family hailed from a small rural town in Iowa, the opportunities to expand past their town were somewhat limited, but college was an excellent gateway into a wider world. While the scholarship may have been a fluke, sometimes a bit of good fortune is required to get off the ground. BT has shown growth in himself while interacting with this story over time. At first, it was a funny story about how eating as much ice cream as possible is both cool and effective to further one’s career. As BT grew older, he began to appreciate the nuance in taking rare opportunities and not letting them slip by without at least trying to see the road it leads down.

Woman on the tracks

Nationality: American
Age: 27
Occupation: Digital animator
Residence: Los Angeles, CA
Language: English

The story by HM was told to her through a horse camp at White Pines Ranch, located in rural Illinois, and every year would be a campfire classic. HM recently remembered this story after not hearing it for years, but still thinks it’s one of her favorite stories to tell. The following excerpt is transcribed and paraphrased for clarity, while trying to maintain HM’s intent and phrasing throughout.

There is a graveyard at White Pines Ranch, and specifically a gravestone of a woman there who’s first name is Mary. The counselors there would always take the kids to see the graves, as the gravesite is a historically important site. Later at night the counselors would tell stories around the fire to all the kids, one being about Mary. They tell the story of how she was home alone as her husband was away for several months, maybe fighting in a war or something (kinda irrelevant what he was doing, not at home). He was away, she was alone in her home in rural Illinois, taking care of the baby all alone. One dark and stormy night, it was pouring rain but her baby had a horrible fever, and she was worried about him, so she decided to take the baby to the doctor. It was pouring and impossible to see but she took a carriage (I think?) that she is riding, but she is struggling to steer while holding the baby and it being impossible to see in the middle of the night. Suddenly as she continues on she comes across train tracks but she doesn’t notice as she’s racing to try and save her baby. As the crosses the tracks she tries to beat the train across the tracks but then the train hits the carriage and causes a nasty crash, wood flying everywhere, really terrible crash. She wakes up in the morning and she’s at the doctors. The doctor says “you’re so lucky to be alive, your horse was injured, your carriage was destroyed.” Mary asks “where’s my baby?” but the doctor responds “what baby? There was no baby.” The woman explains that she was racing to the doctor’s to save her sick baby but the doctor maintains that they found absolutely no sign of any baby by the crash, not even a cradle. Mary is distraught. The husband gets word of the crash and comes back, but he also has no recollection of ever having a baby. After that Mary goes completely crazy and eventually dies, to be buried at the rural gravesite. Now, on dark and stormy nights like that one, when trains pass by in the night, people say you can still hear a woman screaming in the middle of the night, “WHERE’S MY BABY????” [yelled towards nearest unsuspecting camper by anyone who had heard the story before].

The story above was a ghost story that would be told every year, highlighting a strong tradition that was honored over time. HM mentioned that she didn’t fully remember how the story was told, but a story of this length that had been enjoyed by so many people would have been subjected to the law of self-correction every time it was told over the campfire with so many returning campers and counselors. This would keep the story consistent and effective to allow all of the returning people to be in on the scare factor at the end. The “where’s my baby?” as the last line of the story was done every single year, with someone who had already heard the story turning to a new face, grabbing them and wailing the line in unison with everyone else. This story serves as an initiation into the White Pines Ranch culture, much like in other pieces of workplace folklore. The consistency of the tradition allows everyone who was a part of the ranch to have a piece of shared culture they could take home, marking them as true members of White Pines Ranch. The ranch is steeped in history, with the historic gravesite, and the history of the gravesite is maintained by the legends told of those laid to rest there, as the graves are now too old for descendants to remember them anymore. The utmost respect to the gravesite and its inhabitants is given by allowing it to live on in the memories and traditions of the ranch built right next to it, keeping Mary’s tragic story alive for generations to come.

Two Dogs Fucking – Joke

Nationality: American
Age: 57
Occupation: High School Teacher
Residence: Park Ridge, Illinois
Language: English

The joke, told by RK, goes something along the lines of this:

A young Native American boy looks to his father and asks how he and his siblings got their names. His father responds, “each time your mother gave birth, I walked out of the yurt. The first thing I saw became each of your names. This is how Eagle Flies High got his name, and how your sister Sunrise Dawn got hers too.” The boy thanks his father, and his father says, “no problem, Two Dogs Fucking.”

This joke was taken from a good friend of RK in his childhood (70-80s), and he believes it was also from a movie from around the time, but from which one RK can’t remember. The setup of the joke, while long, is the part with the most embellishment during the telling, often with short asides about how the father looked upon a brilliant sunrise or the majesty of the Eagle passing overhead. The punchline about the two dogs fucking is said almost as an afterthought, adding to the ridiculous name by talking about it as if it were, say, “John”. The joke was so funny to RK and his friends that one of his best friend’s nickname while in Indian Scouts growing up was “2 dogs” in reference to this joke.

This very crude joke is a product of RK’s childhood, and he remembers it fondly because of the memories it brought up. Aside from simply being funny, it became an inside joke amongst their friends, making it a signifier of their friendship long after the first time it was said. The joke was so influential that it inspired a nickname for one of RK’s friends, making it a critical part of their time growing up. The joke itself relies on a stereotype that Native American names are often translated into English as pieces from nature, compared to the more traditional European-style names that are common in the United States, allowing the first two names to seem reasonable. RK grew up in a decently wealthy Chicago suburb that was mostly white, so the relationship to any Native American people or culture is in the medium to allow the names to exist. However, the use of Native American people in general isn’t necessarily needed, making their addition to this joke perpetuate stereotypes that Native American people lack the refinement and common sense of the “normal” American person. More recently jokes that follow this same or similar structure drop the usage of Native American people at all, instead using a nondescript parent/child where children were named after things their parents loved, like how one’s mother loved roses and named their child “Rose”, with the other child “Lightsaber” coming from their father’s love of Star Wars. This readaptation of the joke maintains the same humor setup without having to draw upon making fun of the culture of Native American people.

Six of one half, dozen of the other – Proverb

Nationality: American
Age: 51
Occupation: Middle School Teacher
Residence: Park Ridge, Il
Language: English

The proverb comes in two types: The correct one and the one that had been twisted.

The correct proverb goes “six of one, half dozen of the other”, but MK frequently misspoke and said “six of one half, dozen of the other” enough to where it became its own proverb.

This proverb means something along the lines of “it’s all the same regardless,” meaning whichever direction or choice one makes, the results will be the same. However, MK so often misspoke when trying to say this proverb that her version, “six of one half, dozen of the other,” became its own proverb accidentally. This new proverb would then seemingly mean that the choices presented to the speaker are no longer equal, and there is a correct choice that will provide more value. Despite this, the proverb is still taken as its correct variation where both choices are equal when used in practice.

This proverb could have taken on a new meaning, but rather than becoming its own proverb to counter its original, it instead became an inside joke between MK and her husband, becoming used intentionally wrong to call back to the frequent accidental mistakes that made it its own version in the first place. Because of this, it is only really used between MK and her husband. What makes this version of the proverb stick then is the added meaning behind the shared joke that makes the proverb take on a new primary meaning of love and connection between the couple, as it is a proverb that only they can truly appreciate. MK said about this proverb but their family in general is that it is built off of ridicule, making these jabs a sign of love and respect between the family as a whole. The familial tradition of poking fun at one another gives it the staying power to stand as a new proverb despite its literal context losing logical sense as a proverb trying to say all choices are equal.