Ghost Stories: Living With Kenneth

A well-credentialed (if there is such a thing) ghost hunter tells the story of one client who had called him to her home one chilly evening in the mid 1980s to investigate a series of events in her home, events that seemed to have no rational explanation.

She explained to the ghost hunter how books were being knocked off of bookshelves, how items were being moved from one room to
another, how clothing items had been taken from her closets and thrown to the floor, and that whoever or whatever was responsible for all this apparently also enjoyed jumping up and down on her bed.

It had gotten so bad, she related, that she dreaded coming home from work in the evening.

Having heard enough, our ghost hunter looked through the home, and found what he was looking for in the woman’s bedroom - a ghost-like figure dressed in a bloody army uniform. Able to communicate with the ghost, as all good ghost hunters apparently can, the ghost told our ghost hunter that his name was Kennth and that he was there to get his house back. The ghost went on to say that he had served in Vietnam, and that he then returned to his home town, and to “his” home, only to find a strange woman,
and her roommate, living there. His efforts at re-arranging books, clothes, and other belongings of the woman were designed to drive her out of his home.

Our ghost hunter attempted to explain to the ghost that it was many, many years since he had served in Vietnam, perhaps as long as two decades, and that the woman that he was trying so desperately to drive from the premises was the rightful and legal current owner of the
property. Oh, and our ghost hunter also brought up the fact to the ghost that he was, well, dead.

That did not go over well with the ghost. The ghost lost all semblance of calmness and reality, and began screaming and cursing at the ghost hunter, denying the truth of his demise, and telling him to get out of his house and to take the woman, and her tenant, with him.

The ghost hunter, relying more on a rudimentary, at best, pseudo-knowledge of psychology than on any expertise in the ghost-hunting field, tried urging the ghost to accept the fact of his demise, and to move on (I guess to wherever it is that ghosts go once they realize that they no longer are among the living - maybe
to one of the towns in Southern California’s Antelope Valley, such as Boron or Saltdale.

A bout of schizophrenia seemed to strike the ghost, who at one point volunteered that his name was, or at least had been, Kenneth, as he seemed to then bound back and forth between an utter sadness in attempting to accept the fact of his death, and at the young age of 20, and at the anger of his homeless, dead status.

Our ghost hunter, using every element of his ghost-hunting/psychology expertise, implored upon Kenneth that he should accept the fact of his death, and move on to what surely would be a better place, a place where he would be welcomed by his former friends, his family, and
of course his comrades in arms who also had met their end in the mortal combat of Southeast Asia.

Finally, our ghost hunter later related, Kenneth moved into the tunnel and walked towards the white light (his words, ghost-hunter jargon),

The ghost hunter told the homeowner that her problem appeared to be resolved, but that she should not speak of Kenneth for several weeks, as uttering his name could be perceived as a call to Kenneth, to return to his former home.

A few days later, our ghost hunter received a telephone call from the woman’s roommate. The roommate told the ghost hunter that he had no choice but to move out himself, as the woman has been saddened by the departure of Kenneth, and had not just spoken his name, but had asked him to return - which he did. The house was big enough for only two, and the woman had chosen Kenneth to be her new and permanent roommate.

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