In the spring of the year 2000, I was on tour with my band Del Rey, alongside our friends’ band, Planes Mistaken for Stars, all up and down the east coast for a few weeks. And on this tour, we had a show one night at this place called the Middle East in Boston. We do the usual, we both play our sets, great show, hang out afterwards. The night gets, you know, a little bit later, and it’s time to head out and find a place to crash. We usually all get hotel rooms together, or, you know, crash in somebody’s house on couches and sleeping bags or wherever we can. This particular night, me and one of the guys from the other band, Jamie, uh, were also friends with another guy who was an old roommate of ours back in Chicago, who now lived in Boston and wanted he and I to come stay at his house and like hang and catch up or whatever in a non-punk rock show venue. So after the show, Jamie and I get in the car with our old friend, his name’s Jody, and go to stay at the apartment that he’s now living in in a neighborhood in Boston. As we get to his apartment, this is late at night. Uh, it’s a really old neighborhood in Boston, and the apartment buildings that are on the street all look very, very old, probably like they were originally built in sometime in the late 1700s. So we go up to this, uh, upstairs apartment in this old building, and we’re getting ready to just hang and chat a little bit before we crash. We’re all kind of hanging out in his room, listening to music, talking, smoking cigarettes. And he tells us about all the weird things that have been happening in his apartment. He’s telling us about a picture in the hallway that consistently falls off the wall and onto the floor, in the middle of the night. He’s telling us how this happens on a regular basis. It’s every other night this happens and only at night. And how every time he puts it back on there, he checks the nail, he checks the picture, it’s not too heavy, it’s sturdy, it’s solid. There’s nothing about this picture that should be falling off the wall. Yet it continues to happen. He goes on to explain that other weird things have been happening in this apartment. Things are left in one place but then found randomly in another spot that he knows he didn’t move them to. Things go missing. He hears weird noises, he hears weird voices. Uh, daytime, nighttime, uh, doors open and shut. He kind of continues just telling us about, you know, this list of weird sort of odd happenings in this apartment that he notices are just really regular and starting to creep him out. About two to three minutes after he finishes telling us about these things that are going on in the apartment, something happens. So, we’re sitting in his room, where he’s telling us these stories about the things happening in his apartment. We’re listening to music on a stereo. The door is completely shut, and it shut all the way to where it’s latched inside the strike plate inside of the doorway, whatever you call it. So, it’s caught, so you can’t just push the door open. So, as we’re sitting there, a couple minutes after he finishes telling us this, the doorknob turns, unlatches, opens the door slowly as we all watch it. The three of us each saw that doorknob turn, unlatch and open inward. About the exact same time as that’s happening, the stereo receiver dial, the volume dial, turns itself down all the way to off, which we all also saw in unison. So, these two events happened right before our eyes, and right after he had just finished explaining, all of the weird, creepy, ghostly things that have been happening in this apartment. So we flipped like every light on, run out into the main living room area, kind of just look at each other in shock and disbelief, and awe, and, you know, made sure we all we saw what we saw there, right? So, after a little while, we had to kind of calm down, sort of try to laugh it off or whatever. We had to get some sleep because we had to get up and get off to the next city the next morning. But that’s one, uh that I’ll never forget and it’s uh, I guess a story that all three of us will remember for the rest of our lives.
Context: When is this story told? To whom? Where does it take place?
The story is told on Tuesday, April 28, 2026 to me by Michael. The story actually takes place in Boston, Massachusetts in the spring of 2000.
Their thoughts: What does the teller think of the story?
Michael mentions that this story still sticks with him to this day and I think he likes re-telling the story because it seems to have really had an impact on him. He also mentions that he has had conversations with the same people who had this experience with him multiple times over the years. As someone who has previously said has a good number of ghostly or creepy stories, he chose this particular one based on his feeling that it was one of the more memorable as well as creepy experiences in his life.
Your thoughts: what do you think of the story?
I think this story is interesting because it seems to be related to this old late 1700s apartment building in Boston, and hints at something ghostly that could possibly have been happening for over 200 years in this place. I also like that there were three people all experiencing the same odd events simultaneously. I think that might make it more compelling, and even creepier. I also found it interesting that the two ghostly experiences that happened, the door opening and the stereo volume being turned down, both happened after his friend just finished telling them about all the other haunted and ghostly types of things happening in the apartment.
