“The Haunted Lesbian Dwelling”

Nationality: American
Age: 18
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles, California
Performance Date: 11/2/21
Primary Language: English

JF: So I lived in this house, um, in the suburbs of Georgia. It was built in the 50s or 60s, and it was a modern house at the time. And it looks really interesting now because it’s like an outdated style of house, but looks modern.

Me: Right.

JF: It’s just a weird house. I called it the “Haunted Lesbian Dwelling”. Um, so essentially when I was in this house, I had extremely bad depression. I wasn’t eating some days, sleeping all the time. I’d like, go to middle school.

JF: *laughs*

JF: It was terrible, I was so sad there. So anyway, the people who lived there before were two lesbians who currently owned the house cuz they don’t like the city. And two people had died in the house, of natural causes–

Me: The lesbians?

JF: No, not the lesbians. they were still alive. They just didn’t like living in the city and were renting out the house. But there were two families who’d lived there prior to the lesbians, we were told they died of natural causes. Well, we were told that, at least.

Me: What was it like there? What made it haunted?

JF: It was a very creaky house, we thought it was just old at first. But then things started to move on their own. And my mom just thought we were fucking with her. There was a wing of the house where things would just move, my mom would come back in the house and see things just moved, but my brother and I weren’t even home, so we couldn’t have moved it. Lights started to flicker– and these were just things that happened maybe because it was an old house. But, it happened in such a pattern that my parents were convinced it was haunted.

Me: Besides the things moving, lights– was there anything else that convinced your parents of this?

JF: Well, that and my dad said he heard voices of children in the walls when we weren’t home. My mom too. And I didn’t notice any of this shit the whole time, cause I was just in bed for most of this.

Me: Was there any reason you called it the “haunted lesbian dwelling” besides the fact lesbians owned the house?

JF: Nope, just thought it had a ring to it. And it was haunted. It was an accurate descriptor, so sue me!

Context: Collected during an in-person conversation.

Thoughts: I feel like this type of ghost story is classic to America. Older but not too old house has people die in it (whether of natural causes or not), and subsequent things such as lights flickering or objects moving occur. Minor, not too insane occurrences, but eerie enough to feel like a haunting.

Lights in the Wood

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Home Depot Associate
Residence: Enumclaw, Washington
Performance Date: 11/3/2021
Primary Language: English

Background: It was me and my friends enjoying one last night with the homies. Around 2 AM in the morning, very muddy and rainy. CK was talking with his friends.

Me: When and where were you informed about this incident that occurred?

CK: I was in the woods with my friends when I noticed two eye like lights looking at our directions. I get rid of the fire as soon as possible, but when I turn back around the lights weren’t there but got closer. Remember it was raining a lot and the ground was muddy. The object bolted off to the creek which was right next to my camping spot and heard a huge splashing noise. So I wake up the next morning and go back to the place where I saw the eye like lights, but there weren’t any tracks or footprints. I was sooooo scared and terrified. I went to the creek and saw a very big boulder in it. A normal person or animal wouldn’t be able to move that size of a rock. I asked one of my friends of this incident and they told me it could have been a skin walker.

Me: Why do you remember it?

CK: I remember this because it was traumatizing. We threw rocks and stuff at it but it did not move. It made me not want to be here anymore. It was a first time experience in the woods and I was playing horror video games the week before the campout.

Me: Was it more believable at night?

CK: I believe the late night definitely gave a spooky vibe. It was a very dark night where we were staying up very late.

Context of performance: Discord call

Thoughts: The informant considers this ghost story to be widely experienced especially in his small city. The story the informant told was nothing too out of left field, but still instilled that emotion of fear and shock into me (the audience). I, too, have experienced a similar incident during my boy scout campout in the woods when I was younger. I guess when you are in the woods or forests late in the night, there tends to be weird, spooky activity that may be happening.

Ghost in photography

Nationality: Chinese
Age: 18
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: Oct 29th
Primary Language: Chinese
Language: English

Me: Have you ever heard some ghost stories from your parents or grandparents?

S: Yes. I once heard a scary story from my parents.

Me: Why did they tell you this story?

S:You know, adults like to make fun of kids by telling them ghost stories and see how they are terrified.

Me: What is the story then?

S: It happened in a ‘Village-In-The-City’. A boy died of traffic accident and a funeral was held for him. Several girls passed by and one of them picked a flower from the wreath for the boy. She was going to a photo studio, hence she put the flower on her hair and took the photo. When the photographer developed the film, he barely saw a boy’s face behind the girl. He waited for the girl to come back and take the photo, but the girl never returned. He managed to get in contact with the friends of the girl, only to be told that the girl had died due to another traffic accident.

Context: The information was collected in a informal private conversation.

Interpretation: Both photos and ‘Village-In-The-City’ are related to ghost in Chinese cultural background. When photography was first introduced to China, people were terrified because they thought that the soul of human would be captured by the photos. So, when the girl picked the flower from wreath, an action that was considered to be irreverent, the soul of the dead boy might just followed her and was captured by the photo. ‘Village-In-The-City’ may be a special phenomenon in China when the city area expanded so fast that the original village is unable to move away. It is kind of a liminal space where the urban area overlaps with rural area, providing a good background for ghost stories.

Taxi Ghost

Nationality: Chinese
Age: 17
Occupation: student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: Oct 30th
Primary Language: Chinese
Language: English

Me: Could you tell me a ghost story that you heard before?

Z: Sure. I can even create a new story for you.

Me: Really? How is it like?

Z: Listen here. There was a taxi driver who often work during nights. When day, a woman in red took his car, telling him to go to a house in a small village. On the way, the woman was talking with someone through mobile phone. The driver heard from the conversation that the woman’s family was preparing a big meal and was waiting for her. When he finally arrived at the destination, he found that the woman was gone. He then came to knock the door of the house and ask the people inside about the woman. They told him that the woman died last year and they were preparing a meal to commemorate her since it was her anniversary.

context: the story was told in an informal private conversation.

interpretation: Taxi is a kind of common motif in ghost stories. There are also some stories in Japanese culture that are similar to this story, where a ghost, usually a woman, takes the taxi and then disappear when they arrive at the destination, which is usually his/her home. This may be because of the shared tradition of East Asia traditions to commemorate the death at a particular time point when the dead is considered to come back home. These related rituals and motifs are so common in East Asia sense of ghost story telling that they appeared in this improvised story by my friend when trying to create a ‘typical’ ghost story.

Three-foot-high, Solid, and White

Nationality: American
Age: 77
Occupation: Filmmaker
Residence: Buhl, Idaho
Performance Date: 10/26/21
Primary Language: English
Language: Spanish

Context: The informant is a family friend who relates a story that he heard from an associate he met when he lived in the Philippines. I know the informant personally and have no reason to doubt that his telling of the story is accurate. The story was told to the informant in District 2, Barangay Gamu Centro, Isabela Province, Luzon, The Philippines in November, 2014. The language in which the story was told to him is in English.

Text: 

Me: Have you heard of any strange or supernatural stories in your life?

Informant: Yes, I have. So, uhh, the last person in the world I would have suspected to, um, tell me a story of that sort is a very good friend of mine, let’s, uh, call him Kay. Kay grew up in a working class family near, uh, the docks in Liverpool. His father and uncles worked in a factory nearby. And, uh, Liverpool is actually the Beatles hometown, and as a teenager he told me that he used to occasionally catch their act at the Cavern Club.

Me: When and where did you meet Kay?

Informant: I met him in, umm, let’s see here, uhh, I believe it was 2014. He was our landlord in the small village on the island of Luzon in the northern Philippines. We lived there for, uhh, a year in a tidy little cottage behind Kay and his wife’s house.

Kay met and married his wife in Dubai, let’s call her, um, Jay. Kay then quit his job as a power plant engineer for the Saudi Arabian national oil company, and, uh, they moved to Jay’s home village in the Philippines to take life easy.

Kay was a big man, a real tough man, who had worked in the murderous heat of the Saudi oil fields for about, uhh, 25 years from what I recall. It’s hot in the Philippines, too, and when we first met him, Kay was dressed in his daily uniform of, um, a pair of loose shorts and flip flops. I remember how *chuckle* Kay bragged that he hadn’t worn a shirt in ten years, and I *chuckle* I never saw Kay in a shirt once during that year we lived in his house.

Me: So what was the story that Kay told you?

Informant: I’ll get to that, but first you have to know that, uh, there was nothing fancy about Kay. He was a westerner, and, um, he prided himself on being tough, belligerent, outspoken, and being able to design and build anything he could imagine in his wonderfully creative mind. You can imagine my surprise, when he told us this story:

Jay, Kay’s Filipina wife, was, um, how should I say it, somewhat superstitious. She wouldn’t wear red when lightning prowled about during the typhoon season, and, uh, undoubtedly had all the supernatural fears and phobias typical of her neighbors. Kay didn’t fear anything, but he loved Jay and wasn’t too surprised when one day she told him about, get at this, the chicken.

Me: The chicken?!

Informant: The chicken! First it was Jay, and then it was their teenage daughter, let’s, uhh, call her May. They both saw it. Not an ordinary chicken, mind you. They had each seen a three-foot-high chicken walk through their house, out the kitchen door and disappear. A three-foot-high white chicken. *chuckle* It didn’t make a sound, didn’t look right or left, just walked from the veranda, through the sitting room, into the kitchen, out the door, then disappeared.

And, um, this didn’t happen just once, mind you. The chicken showed up from time to time, no special time a matter of fact. Not on Christmas or a birthday! First, Jay and May saw it independently; Jay saw it when May was at school, and then, uhh, Jay saw it when May and her sister-in-law were out back scrubbing clothes in the wash tub. But then, Jay and May *chuckle* saw it together at the same time! A three-foot white chicken calmly walking through their house. 

Kay didn’t see it! He didn’t believe in it! But he just went along with it so as to not make waves with his wife and daughter. Let them see whatever they want to see was the way Kay handled it.  He was totally accustomed to the often unusual beliefs of his friends and relatives in the village.

But that all changed the day Kay was in the house alone, tinkering with the ever problematic air conditioner in the, uhh, sitting room. He turned away to grab a screwdriver or wrench from his tool box, and there it was: A three-foot-high, solid, white chicken strolling through the sitting room not ten feet away! The chicken didn’t make a sound, didn’t look right or left. It just, uhh, sauntered into the kitchen and out the door to the yard. Kay didn’t believe it, but there it was. All of his experience working big power projects in Saudi Arabia and Indonesia, all his drinking and brawling before he met Jay, all his settling down to his farm and taxi business in the Philippines. None explained the three-foot chicken!

Kay didn’t tell Jay and May about it at first. He dismissed the whole thing, until it *chuckle* happened again! Again! And Again! Finally, he had to admit it to Jay and May. They just nodded. They understood. As they said, that’s just the way things happen in the rural Philippines! *laughs*

And after a while, the chicken, uhh, didn’t come back. Kay and Jay and May were all glad about that. Kay especially because the three-foot white chicken was the one thing in his life he never figured out.

Now I, uhh, left out one tiny little detail. Very recently before the sightings of the supernaturally large chicken, Kay’s brother unfortunately passed away. Maybe, just maybe, those dots can be connected!

Thoughts: The story told is an example of a memorate. The informant related a supernatural occurrence as it was told to him by a close friend. The informant also originally wrote down the story to preserve it. I am further protecting the integrity of the story by recording it in the USC Digital Folklore Archives. The story illustrates how supernatural events are perceived differently by persons of different cultures. For example, the wife and the daughter (Filipinos) easily accepted the supernatural events, while the husband and father (Westerner) initially rejected it. The informant told me that this doesn’t suggest that the wife and daughter are not intelligent or perfectly capable individuals. They are simply a product of their rural Filipino culture. The informant himself is at a loss to determine the veracity of the story, and so am I. Furthermore, the informant has no reason to doubt the integrity of the friend who told him this story because he knew the storyteller to be honest and forthright. This is an example of how our credulity is heavily influenced by our personal relationships.