The year, 1962. I was just a small boy. I had this grandmother...6' tall...NASTY woman. She lived in a house on top of a hill all by itself...surrounded by oil derricks. You know...those hobby horse things that go eeeeaaaawwww all the time.
My Grandmother was a hoarder. She hoarded antiques. The larger and more ornate, the more she liked it. She had cystals, paintings of what looked like Mayflower Protestants all over the house that wherever you went, their eyes followed you. Her house was always dark and smelled old and musty and was just filled with mounds and mounds of crap. I swear her place was haunted. Even my Grandfather wouldn't live with this woman
On rare occasions I was forced to stay there. I would be put in this little room on the second floor chocked full of porcelain dolls. There was one particularly evil looking hobo doll that sat on the chair at the foot of the bed. As I lay there at night trying to fall asleep, this thing would just stair at me. The lone street light would shine through the window right on him. The oil wells would just keep up this constant eeeeaaaawwwww.....eeeeaaawwwww all night long. I was pretty scary for a 4 year old.
One night, I awoke, and this hobo doll was now on the foot of the bed, climbing up at me. I swear! I went screaming and yelling out of that room. I vowed NEVER to sleep at grandma's house again.
My mom thought I was full of shit. "She doesn't have a doll that looks like that. She is into girly dolls". I would tell her "well, there is one!"
Fast forward almost 50 years. Grandma and Grandpa are dead, and my mom is closing out their estate.
UPS pulls up to the house and drops off a box. I open it up and there is some packaging...and a note from my mom. "Hi Sweatheart! Look what I found cleaning out the house! I never believed you but here it is! Thought you might enjoy having it!"
My Grandmother was a hoarder. She hoarded antiques. The larger and more ornate, the more she liked it. She had cystals, paintings of what looked like Mayflower Protestants all over the house that wherever you went, their eyes followed you. Her house was always dark and smelled old and musty and was just filled with mounds and mounds of crap. I swear her place was haunted. Even my Grandfather wouldn't live with this woman
On rare occasions I was forced to stay there. I would be put in this little room on the second floor chocked full of porcelain dolls. There was one particularly evil looking hobo doll that sat on the chair at the foot of the bed. As I lay there at night trying to fall asleep, this thing would just stair at me. The lone street light would shine through the window right on him. The oil wells would just keep up this constant eeeeaaaawwwww.....eeeeaaawwwww all night long. I was pretty scary for a 4 year old.
One night, I awoke, and this hobo doll was now on the foot of the bed, climbing up at me. I swear! I went screaming and yelling out of that room. I vowed NEVER to sleep at grandma's house again.
My mom thought I was full of shit. "She doesn't have a doll that looks like that. She is into girly dolls". I would tell her "well, there is one!"
Fast forward almost 50 years. Grandma and Grandpa are dead, and my mom is closing out their estate.
UPS pulls up to the house and drops off a box. I open it up and there is some packaging...and a note from my mom. "Hi Sweatheart! Look what I found cleaning out the house! I never believed you but here it is! Thought you might enjoy having it!"