Radio Rental - Episode 50

Episode Date: November 24, 2023

On today's tapes... >> Lady in the Woods > The Man Upstairs

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The following podcast includes scary stories with content that could be triggering to some listeners. Listener discretion is advised. Welcome. Welcome to Radio Rental. Video rental store filled with the scariest true stories you've ever heard. Come on in, come on in. I'm just ordering some Starbucks from the app here, little bucks. Got to get into the spirit of the season with a pumpkin spice latte. Oh God, I was hoping he wouldn't hear me say that. This time of year, he's inconsolable

without his daily PSL. You know, Malachi, they're not good for you. Listen to what's in them. Condensed skim milk, natural flavors, sure. 50 grams of sugar, potassium sorbate. That doesn't sound natural. There's also, um... Okay, okay. Okay, potassium sorbate. That doesn't sound natural. There's also, um... Okay, okay.

Okay, you don't care. You don't have to be such a dick about it. All right, let's pop a tape in here for our guests. They're here to hear a scary story. Not the somewhat concerning nutritional facts of America's favorite basic girl fall beverage. That's right, Malachi, you're basic. Now, on to something not basic at all.

This all started back when I was in fifth grade. I was living in a small little town that's just off the Mississippi River. Us kids were on the jungle gym, and we were just kind of talking. One of the boys essentially brought up the story. At Hodge Park, there was a lady ghost that was all in white. This ghost comes out at night, steals children and murders people. All the horrible, horrible things that you can think of. There was actually things going on at the time that seemed to line up with this ghost.

Someone went missing right at that same period, and to this day has still not been found. Somebody was murdered. The police were investigating. Nobody knew who did what. This lady ghost story just kind of became the answer to everything we didn't have answers to. After sixth grade, my friend Mike, he had a birthday party. His parents allowed him to have 10 of us boys stay the night at the house.

We were doing all the normal stuff that you do for a birthday party. But at night, that's when the whole story came back up. Mike actually lived the closest out of all of us to the park. He would always have one or two new stories about this lady ghost in the woods. He starts talking about the lady in the woods again, and eventually one of us made the suggestion that we should just sneak out

and go see if we can find this lady ghost in the woods. There was two of us that were just like, let's not mess with this. It's probably not real, but why would we do this? Why would we go? We snuck out the back door, his parents were sleeping. They had no idea. We get to the park.

Some of them were running up to the different equipment and playing around. There was a few of them were running up to the different equipment and playing around. There was a few of them that were in the baseball field messing around like kids, probably making more noise than we should. I was one of the scared ones. I was back in the parking lot just freaked out. all of a sudden, it felt like everybody looked up at the same time. I'm looking right in front of me into the woods. There is literally this lady identical to what a ghost would look like.

There was a slight glow, a slow walk, the clothes were flowing just slightly, she's walking in the woods, all in white, moving at a pretty slow pace, not looking at us at all. This is a ghost. It was terrifying.

It looked literally what a ghost would exactly be if somebody had you describe what a ghost is. And then it's just this feeling of pure flight. Run as fast as you can. I've never ran so fast in my life. All of us are just jetting through those yards that we came through originally to get to the park. We're just terrified to the point where no one's making any noise.

We're running as fast as we can, trying to get out of there. We get back to Mike's house, lock the door, we're in the basement. We spent that night worried that this lady ghost was going to come to Mike's house, break into the basement. We spent that night worried that this lady ghost was going to come to Mike's house, break into the basement, and take one of us. When you see something that you have always been told can't be real. And then it's in front of you. Obviously, that's going to cause some serious issues. I would think about it. How did I see this? How is this real? How in the world did 10 of us see this same ghost at the same time. We're not all hallucinating. We're in sixth grade, so we're not doing drugs.

We saw it at the same time. It was certainly there. It was real. All of us could back each other up. When you've got nine other people that you could say, did you see that? Yes, I saw that. It was all white. Was it

all white for you? Yeah, it was all white. Everybody saw the exact same thing. We go back to school and we think it's like the most terrifying thing in history, but we want to tell everyone. You go to all your other friends, like, I got to tell you what happened. We saw this ghost, this lady ghost. And those friends are telling other friends. And then before you know it, this story has just become a huge, huge thing. Everyone's talking about this ghost. And that story continues on even after we leave. We move through junior high. We go into high school.

We bring the story up, but from time to time, your brain has a way of trying to protect itself. It's telling you that, yes, you did see something, but you couldn't have possibly seen what you think you saw. And as you get older, you start to get embarrassed almost. You're a junior in high school, you start to get embarrassed almost. You're a junior in high school, you're a senior in high school. You're not going around telling people about this ghost that you saw in fifth grade. Going through college, finally I settled down. I got married.

We bought a dog, a chocolate lab. The house we bought ended up being two blocks from Hodge Park all these years later. I'm literally living two blocks from where this all took place. I'd go to the park quite often. I just didn't go at night. It wasn't like I'd get to the park and just be completely terrified from walking into it. I'd get to the park and I'd walk my dog, taking the dog around the outskirts of the park.

Ringo would get to a point where we're right at the area where I saw this ghost. You'd naturally look in there first to see, all right, is she back? She never was. You're questioning yourself. What did I actually see? My brain would just spin like that every time I'd walk the dog. About a year after we moved in, I'm walking my dog again. I get to the same spot. I look in the woods, check to see if the lady of the woods is there. She isn't.

There's a path that leads out of the park near where we saw this woman. There is a house that butts up right against the park. When I walked through with my dog, there was a truck parked at this house. And there was a guy moving out of the house. I made small talk. I said, how you doing? Are you moving out? He said, yeah. He basically explained that his parents lived there and that his mother had recently passed away,

that they were selling the house to a new couple that was moving in soon. I'm about to leave. I had just gotten past that point where I looked in the woods again, wondering where that lady coast was. I guess I just wanted some validation from somebody else. Somebody else outside of this group of friends that I've talked about this for years. I actually brought this story up to this random guy at this house,

just because it was the closest house to the park. I gave him a shorthand version of the ghost story. He looks at me. He's got this smile on his face. He says, oh, I've heard that story plenty. And I remember thinking to myself, wait, what? He simply just says,

that ghost you saw, I know exactly who that was. That was my mother. The very first thing I thought was, he's saying his mom was a ghost. But that's not what he meant. His father died many years prior. His mom was living in this home by herself.

She had some sort of sickness or disease. The sickness itself, there was a treatment for, but there was a side effect of the medicine that his mother took, which would cause his mother to sleepwalk at night, leave the house, literally be walking in the woods. He explains to me further that one of her favorite things to sleep in was literally a silk white gown. She even had white gloves that ran the length of the arm. In this park, they have this single light that shines down to cover the park.

This man that was moving for his mother, he looked back, he could see the park, you could see the light, he points at it and he says, I can only imagine how that light would light up my mother's white outfit like a Christmas tree. He told me he lived in Texas during this time. He couldn't even count the amount of times he got phone calls from the local police department advising that they had found his mom in the middle of the park again. He explained that his sister still lived around and that the two of them basically were arguing back and forth. He wanted to put her into a assisted living home. She did not. She wanted her mother to have her independence. She wins out. So this goes on for years. He explains all this to me and I think into myself, wow, this really happened. I'm not crazy. And man, I can't believe how this happened. I was shocked. That was not a ghost. You know, that wasn't some spirit or something.

That was literally a poor elderly woman who had some sickness that was sleepwalking in the woods. I reached out to this friend of mine. We haven't talked in years. I say my normal hello, how are you? It's been a long time. Instantly I get into the story like, hey, remember that lady in the woods in sixth grade? He's like, yeah. And then I explain what it is and it blows his mind. I wasn't the only one that was still kind of wondering what this was. It had such an impact on him that he was doing the same thing.

It kind of made me feel better that I wasn't the only one that continued to dwell on it all those years later. I do still wonder if that story still floats around. I do know that the story for a while was definitely still a thing. A couple of years later, you would have people that didn't realize that you were part of all of this come up to you and start telling you the story. And you're going, well, I know all about this ghost. I saw this ghost. It also makes me think about a lot of other stories that are out there that you hear about, where people are seeing strange or unique or crazy things.

Maybe the story is true, but it's possible that they've seen it incorrectly. That their perception of what they're viewing is not exactly what they thought. They could very well be a story that has a complete explanation. They just never got the chance to get that closure like I did. Mmm, horrifying. Let's take a little break. Get ready for Las Vegas-style action at BetMGM, the king of online casinos. Enjoy casino games Let's take a little break. Game Sense remind you to play responsibly. BetMGM.com for T's and C's. 90 plus to wager Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge.

BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. Crime Writers On is the podcast where authors and journalists talk about the latest true crime series, documentaries, and podcasts. Talk about what's on the charts and find those up-and-coming podcasts you'll be talking about. It's like a fun and smart book club discussing what makes good storytelling and teaching how to become a critical listener. Or not. And stick around for the Crime Writers Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down reviews.

It's the original True Crime Review podcast. Crime Writers On, wherever you get your podcasts. Like probably right here. And we're back. Oh, wasn't that last story scintillating? Now, there's just

one tiny problem. The Starbucks app crashed on me, and then when I loaded again, it seems... Oh, I can't believe it. It seems they sold out of pumpkin spice lattes. I know, I know, Malachi. Daddy will find a solution. Oh, look.

They have an apple crisp oat milk macchiato. But I know it's not the same, but I'm sure it's not hot garbage water. No, no. It's just as I feared. He's going into PSL withdrawal. This time of year can be so hard on so many families. Starbucks tearing us apart with your delicious syrups. Or at least order the right amount. How do you run out... What did you run out of, pumpkin?

I'll bring in a pumpkin. Bring your own pumpkin. Now, here's an idea for a... for a Starbucks seasonal fall beverage. What about a gourd latte? Just a thought. Okay, here's a tape for you. Enjoy this creepy story.

I'm gonna have my hands full for a few minutes here. Malachi! My great-aunt lived alone in a small two-floor house that my grandfather had built in the 1940s. She had a tiny bedroom upstairs with a writing room off to the side. My great-aunt was a nun and a teacher and would often write to friends, former students,

and work on a book that she never seemed to finish. My mother and I would visit her from time to time over the years just to help out with gardening and just take care of random chores. But when I left for college, my mother started visiting her more often because she thought, what's the point of us both being alone? As she was getting up there, she would start remarking about her mortality. She knew that life was not going to continue on forever and things were never going to get better. It's just maintaining what you could.

So that's why we were there, just to try to help. She would tell us stories that wouldn't resolve or wouldn't make any sense, even though we've heard them hundreds of times. So she'd just forget the details. We'd start filling them in, but then that would leave her confused because she remembered something else or go off on a tangent. One story would start when she and my grandfather were kids, but then resolve when they were both adults. Basically, she combined two stories into one

and thought it would make sense of where it was going. Her dementia started going beyond just the forgetting. She also started forgetting to eat and take her medications. It would crank the heat in the summertime. Some days were worse than others. She started seeing things, like she'd say that there's spiders on the floor and we knew that there was nothing going on so we take her to the doctors and eventually we had to confirm that she did have dementia. That was steadily getting worse.

So when I finished college my mom and I started visiting her daily as she absolutely refused to go into a nursing home or assisted living because there are a lot of horror stories. And unfortunately, that's where my grandfather went. He had fallen out of bed a few times. He had neglect. She was afraid that if she went into a hospital or assisted living or retirement community that she'd never come home. This was the home she'd known of for over 60 years. That was her place. That's where all her memories were. She didn't want to leave it. So my mom and I did everything we could to keep her in her home and comfortable and healthy as humanly possible. We set up meals on wheels.

We asked some of her friends and former neighbors to check in on her from time to time. My mother and I convinced her to start writing in the kitchen rather than upstairs to prevent her falling. One day when I was visiting her alone she started reflecting on her life mortality and when the man upstairs was going to come for her. I changed the subject but over time she started talking more and more about when she was going to die.

He's going to come for me soon. I don't know when the man upstairs will do it though. Auntie, I'm sure you have many years left God isn't going to come take you away anytime soon She said no, not God The man upstairs We kept telling her that the man upstairs isn't coming for you We chalked it up to her failing eyesight and dementia.

One morning we had a snowfall. After shoveling myself out so I could go to work, I thought I should probably stop by my great aunt's and shovel her walkway. Drove down, shoveled her walkway, put down some rock salt, got back in my car, and called my great-aunt. Say, like, walkway shoveled, mom will be by later on tonight. I started to leave, but then I remembered I'd left my rock salt out. So I circled the block to go get it. And when I reached for it, that's when I noticed that the light in the old writing room above the walkway was turned on. It felt odd, because both my mother and I were there the night before.

We would have seen if the light had been turned on. Having returned a few hours later to shovel the walkway, and now seeing it on, how? She wouldn't go upstairs. She would have no reason to. Who else would turn the light on? Did we just not notice it? Pretty sure we would have noticed a light on that night. So it just felt off. It felt unsettling. So I called my mom to call my aunt, see if she had any company over, and to tell me how long it took her to get to the phone. My mom called back shortly after, saying that no, she doesn't have any company over. And she picked up the phone right away. Mom, you may need to call the police. The light upstairs turned on after I talked to her.

There's no way a 95-year-old lady hung up, hustled upstairs, then backed down to pick up your call, as there was no phone on the second floor. My mom called the police, and I called my aunt. Auntie, I almost forgot. You have a doctor's appointment today, and I'll come pick you up. I parked my car in front of the house and acted as normally as I could. It felt like an eternity, trying to help her get into her house code and out the door. As I turned the lock, I heard footsteps above us, in the second floor room. I helped her into my car, never looking at the house. I was too scared for what I'd seen in the window.

The first cop that showed up, I told him what was going on, that I had seen the light on, and there should be no one upstairs, and then I heard footsteps. And we didn't know who they were. Once I told him that, he called for two more cruisers to come by just to see if there was any kind of break-in. So they patrolled around the house and then two of them went in to search. Five, ten minutes later the two police that went in came back out with this homeless man in handcuffs,

dragged him through the snow over to one of the cruisers and put him in the back. He didn't put up much of a fight and he didn't scream or anything. He just quietly went into the back. He was disheveled, gaunt, rather emaciated, and filthy. He had apparently been there for quite some time. He clearly was not a well individual. He was filthy, he was skinny, long stringy hair, and just gaunt.

When they finally brought him out I was surprised. I had hoped it was just my imagination. It was just a scary sight to see. Someone actually being there and pulling him out. So when that happened my mom screamed. My great aunt kind of didn't know what was going on,

but when my aunt noticed that the police had taken him out, she said to my mother, that's the man upstairs. He actually was a real person, not some figment of her imagination, not some euphemism for God. There was a man upstairs. My great aunt was telling the truth that there was a man upstairs, and we didn't listen given her condition. When we were cleaning, after we saw all the mess upstairs, we then saw the notes. Many, maybe hundreds of them, in different inks and pencil scrawlings around the office door window that overlooked the walkway I had shoveled. Go away. Don't stay. I'll come down. And on the back of the door to the stairs, I can see you, but you can't see me.

I'll come down if you don't leave. He was clearly mentally disturbed. It was almost like a game that he was hiding. Hide and seek. It was clear he had probably wrote these notes each time someone had visited over the weeks and possibly months. I didn't know how long that guy was there.

I didn't know if he could have done something to my great aunt. You can't really get the mindset of someone who does these types of things, of just like entering in someone's house and staying there for who knows how long. Not rational thoughts. It's frightening to know that there was someone there, but not know what they could have done. We don't know how he got in. We assumed

that maybe he was knocking on the door one day and my great aunt let him in thinking it was someone from Meals on Wheels. And given her state, oh, here's someone new, let them in. We followed up with the police asking like, hey, whatever happened to that guy? They told us that he had passed away. We told my great aunt and she said, oh, I know, he told me. He's upstairs again, but you can't see him anymore. That's when the door to the stairs cracked open. We turned the heater back on upstairs for cleaning things out so we assume that the air just pushed it open just a crack really eerie timing

no thank you hard pass on that one. Let's do some ads. Malachi! Malachi! They're back! Calm yourself! You're causing a scene! I'm so sorry you have to see him throwing such a tantrum. Malachi, I'm taking a star off of the good behavior chart. Do you hear me? That means it's going to be longer before you get to pick a toy out of the prize jar. God, nothing is working. Tried giving him a cup of hot Lipton's tea.

He hated that. I tried bourbon. It's on the floor now. Malachi, Malachi, hush, hush, hush, hush. Come here. Daddy's going to sprinkle some cumin into a hot cup of milk. That's kind of Starbucks-y, isn't it? Am I right? Hey, Malachi, try this new drink I created.

No, Malachi, what are you doing? Those are my favorite jeans. They hug my hips just right. It took me forever to find those. In fact, they're my only genes. No, don't, don't. You dare threaten my corduroys. All right, all right, that's it. You win. I'll drive around until we find a Starbucks with PSLs. But you're getting into the carrier, mister. Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. Am I crazy or is hot milk with a little cumin and cardamom kind of delicious?

Mmm. This is cumin along nicely. Ugh. I ruined it for myself. Thanks for coming by. Lead producer is Eric Quintana. Executive producers are Payne Lindsey and Donald Albright. Hosted by Rainn Wilson as his character, Terry Carnation. Written and produced by Meredith Stedman. Additional writing by Mark Laughlin.

Supervising producer is Tracy Kaplan. Associate producer is Jaja Muhammad. Editing by Eric Quintana, Mike Rooney, and Meredith Stedman. Sound design, mix, and master by Cooper Skinner. Additional sound design and mixing by Devin Johnson. Original score by Makeup and Vanity Set. Video editing by Dylan Harrington. Cover artwork by Trevor Eiler and Rob Sheridan. Special thanks to Oren Rosenbaum and the team at UTA, the Nord Group, Station 16, Beck Media and Marketing, and the team at Odyssey.

If you have a Radio Rental story that you'd like to share, please email us at yourscarystory at gmail.com or contact us via the form on our website, radiorentalusa.com. Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Radio Rental. You can also follow the illustrious Terry Carnation on social media. Just search at Terry Carnation. On behalf of the Radio Rental. You can also follow the illustrious Terry Carnation on social media. Just search at Terry Carnation. On behalf of the Radio Rental store, we'd love it if you'd subscribe, rate, and review. Thanks for listening. I'm Nadine Bailey. I've been a ghost tour guide for 20 years and have taken people into haunted places

to uncover macabre tales and dark secrets. On my podcast, Haunted Canada, I share bone-chilling stories of the unexplained. Search for Haunted Canada on Apple Podcast, Spotify, Amazon Music, or wherever you're listening right now. Then join me if you dare.