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Did you know that, Vincent Price, master of the macabre, had a glimpse of the unknown, while flying from Hollywood to New York

on the 15th November, 1958?

He was reading a book for most of the journey, and at one point glanced out of the window. To his horror he saw huge, brilliant letters across a cloud bank, spelling out the message

TYRONE POWER IS DEAD.

Price said "It was a terrific shock. I began to doubt my senses when I realized that nobody else on the plane appeared to have seen it, but for a few seconds it was definitely there, like huge, teletype, lit up with blinding light from within the clouds".

On landing in New York he was told that his close friend, actor Tyrone Power , had died suddenly a couple of hours earlier

I have just been reading the local newspaper, and there is a full page spread, about a local investigator being attacked by a ghost.

He received a call from the cleaner at the 17th century, Grey mare pub, saying that she had a paranormal incident in the cellar. On arrival he said he saw a man standing behind the bar, but he meant no harm. He said he also saw a woman called Amy, dressed in forties style clothes. Later research revealed that there was a woman by the name of Amy, who ran the pub in the forties.

They went downstairs to the cellar and took pictures, but there was nothing on them, so they headed back upstairs. The cleaner went first, but the investigator was held back by a man, who said "this is my place, you've no right to be here, get out!"

In reply he said "let me pass". When he reached the door handle it flew out of his hand, and the door slammed shut. He felt a blow to his stomach, which launched him against the wall.

When he got out of the cellar he lifted his shirt to find, two deep gashes, about 5 inches long down his stomach.

It shows a picture of this very large 59 year old man, holding his shirt up, to show the gashes. Very nasty, they are too!

The cellar was where they kept the bodies of local people, during the massive flu epidemic in 1948. 

Thought the spirits in my house had gone crazy at 1am today.

My bed was being shook like mad, I looked at the window, and the blind
was moving. I shouted, stop doing that, but it went on for a second or
two. The radio was on, and then the presenter said that there were
reports of an earthquake coming in, from all across the country! LOL.

We have never had an earthquake this far up north in the UK before. It only lasted for about 6 seconds.

Hugs, Lorraine x

Dear friends, I am having problems with my friends list still.

Friends are just disappearing off it every day. I am sorry to keep putting requests in. If you see you are not on there please add me again!

Hugs, Lorraine. xxx

I just wanted to say a big thank you , to all my friends, who have added me again. Also to the new friends, who added me .

I feel very overwhelmed, by the kindness shown to me, and for all the messages, and comments. 

Where are your friends, when you need them?

  Right here on IAH!!

 

Hugs and love to you all!

Lorraine xxx

If you are a friend of turtle, please go to my page and see if you are on my friends. If not please send me a request again.

I have lost a few pages of my friends, over 40 of them!

I have pm'd Alan about it .

Thank you!

Hugs, Lorraine x

 

The Post Office is Britain’s oldest continuously trading shop, built in
1668 by cloth merchant John Brabin. When Brabin died in 1683 his money
built the almshouses and old schoolhouse on cobbled Windy Street, a
quaint spot flanked by stone cottages with traditional mullioned
windows and tiny gardens.
The village boasts a fine ghost story. Lizzie Dean, a barmaid at the
Sun Inn, hanged herself after seeing her fiancé marrying another. The
vicar refused her request to be buried beneath St Bartholomew’s path
(to make her lover walk over her to get to church), and so she
supposedly haunts the Sun to this day.

Set in the picturesque Ribble Valley, a few miles to the west of
Clitheroe, the village of Chipping is a gem of rural Lancashire rightly
proud of its history. Chipping was once the market centre for the area,
indeed the name is derived from Chepyn, an old English word for market.
The village thrives still, though the market is long gone. The oldest
of its three churches is St Bartholomew’s, founded in 597, although the
bulk of the building is dates from 1506.
Much of Chipping’s architecture is seventeenth century.

I think it is such a shame for it to close. It is a beautiful little corners shop,  with a small doorway, and the thick, very old wooden door. 

The time  here in the uk is 21.30. I get so frustrated, because most of my friends at IAH are 7 hours behind us. I am just going to bed, when my friends are coming on here.

I am lucky sometimes, in the mornings, I get up early and catch the odd one or two, who have stayed up into the early hours.

I love each and every one of you, and would like to chat with you more, but the time difference makes that difficult.

Be sure I think of you all.

Great big hugs, and lots of love, Lorraine x x x