Hey, it's Michelle, and tonight's four calls are connected by something I did not notice until I had heard all of them together. Every single one of these callers was somewhere they were supposed to feel safe. A hotel room on a solo road trip. A basement bedroom in a college house. A family apartment they had lived in for years. A cemetery on a curious afternoon. And every single one of them found out that safe is not always the whole story. This episode is available as a video on both Spotify and YouTube, so you can watch as well as listen.

Four real callers. Four true ghost stories. Here is what is waiting for you.

Our first caller was driving solo from California to Portland when she pulled off Interstate 5 near Gilroy and checked into a Motel 6 for the night. She was tired. The room was run-down. The hotel felt empty. She dozed off, and when she looked across the room, there was a man sitting in the chair by the credenza. Gallard mustache. Baggy pants. Both hands on the armrests. Wide legs. Completely at ease. Just watching her sleep. She woke herself up screaming for her mother and slept with the light on until morning. Whatever was in that chair was gone the moment the light came on. She checked out at dawn and did not look back.

Chase from Mesa, Arizona, takes us to a basement in Salina, Kansas, in 2008, where he and his roommate, Travis, heard something that has no explanation. Travis was in the shower. Chase was sleeping in the next room. A woman's voice said, "Hey, do you know me?" They looked at each other. Thirty seconds of silence. Then the voice again. "Hey, do you know me?" The neighbors were all at school. It was only the two of them in the house. Whatever was asking that question was asking it directly and patiently and it was waiting for an answer. Chase says there is more but that is the real weird one. Chase please call back.

Our caller from San Antonio, Texas describes years of escalating paranormal activity in a family apartment from 1987 to 1991. An old woman in a 1900s style dress watching from beside the bed and smiling. A young woman in white on the stairs who his father stepped aside to let pass before she vanished. Voices calling his name from empty rooms. Lights turning on and off. Someone poking him on the back in the bathroom when he was completely alone. The dog was terrified for no reason. And persistent water leaks that kept getting worse, no matter how many repairs were made. Worth noting that chronic water damage can lead to toxic mold exposure, which has documented neurological effects, including auditory and visual hallucinations. Whether that explains what happened in that apartment or whether the apartment had something in it that the mold could not account for, the family eventually had to leave. The activity made that decision for them.

And finally, Cindy Ketron from Haunted Avon, Indiana, returns with the story of a cemetery in Seymour, Indiana, in 1987, in a section filled with children's graves from the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918 to 1919. The Spanish flu killed between fifty and one hundred million people worldwide in roughly two years, among them a devastating number of children, and small town cemeteries across America still hold the concentrated grief of communities that buried their young faster than they could process the loss. Cindy and her family had no relatives in that cemetery. They were simply curious. Then Brian said, " Mom, look." A disembodied child's hand was crawling up through the grave, raising its fingers as if feeling for where it was going. Cindy's mom said, "Run". They ran. When they came back months later with a flashlight, there was nothing there at all.

If you have a real ghost story of your own, a haunting experience, something you heard, something you cannot explain, I want to hear it. Call 1 (701) 484-2666 or visit ⁠⁠tellmeaghoststory.com⁠⁠ to share your story.

You might end up on the show⁠⁠.