Scary House

As I have written in here before, my parents never owned their own home. As a child we moved from rental house to rental house to rental apartment.  One of those moves was into an old house that at one time was a single home. When we lived there it had been converted into six apartments. I am sure, when it was a single home, it must have been owned by one of Slatington’s slate barons.  It was big and beautiful. But it was always a little scary, when I lived there.

I don’t believe in ghosts. But every time I was about to enter the building, I had a rush of adrenalin that made me run up to our second floor apartment as if someone was chasing me. Every single time.  Maybe it was just the aura of the house itself. For those of you from Slatington, the house is located at Second and Church Streets. A corner lot Victorian. Three stories tall. White. It could easily be featured in a horror movie.

Once I was in our apartment, I felt safe. I lived there from 5th through 7th grades. We were on the second floor. I can still remember the tenants in the other five apartments. Two of them were adult men living with their mothers.  Interesting.  Directly under us was an older couple, the Meaghers, who really didn’t like me.  I believe I may have been the first child to live in this building and I upset their quiet oasis. I was noisy. I was a kid. I had a baseball game I invented in my room. Throw the rubber ball at the bottom molding, try to catch it. If I didn’t catch it, I counted seconds, and the longer it took to get to the ball the farther on the imaginary base path I went.  I played this for hours, especially on rainy days.  No wonder the Meaghers didn’t like me! It’s funny that now I that I live in an apartment, I would absolutely hate that going on above me!

The apartment was very nice. It had a huge bay window that overlooked Church Street. From there I could see the Lincoln  Playground and Smith Hall.  My mom would spend hours sitting at that window watching the world go by or talking to her sister, Lorna, on the phone.  The only other unique thing about the apartment was my room. It was at the very back of the apartment. The slope of the roof was part of the ceiling.  I had my own outdoor entrance that opened onto a back porch and fire escape.  If I had been a teen living there, I could have been sneaking out every night and no one would know. Well, maybe the Meaghers would have known. They seemed to have it out for me!

I drove by this building the other day. It is for sale! It looks a little downtrodden. Maybe recent owners have not shown it loving care.   I am thinking about making believe I am interested in buying it, and getting a tour from the realtor. I would love to see that bay window and especially my old room!  Plus, I wonder, if I approached the entrance, would I still get that adrenalin rush? Has that ghost or demon or evil spirit been waiting  there all these years for my return. Scary House!