Newsgroup: it.discussioni.misteri
Titolo: Fantasmi

Un mio amico mi ha mandato un resoconto di un'apparizione di fantasma. A me
č interessato molto perchč conosco la zona, a meglio il pub. Spero possa
interessare anche a voi. Mi spiace che č in Inglese ma non ho il tempo per
tradurlo.
THE SAD SPECTRE OF SMITHDOWN ROAD
by Tom Slemen
The following spooky incident happened in Liverpool, England in the
early 1990s, and was even reported in the Liverpool Echo.
One morning, around 4 a.m., a 24-year-old man named Alan was walking
home from a pub in Smithdown Road. There had been a stay-behind at the
pub because the landlady had become engaged, and Alan felt quite
drunk. He was walking along near Sefton General hospital, which is
situated in Smithdown Road. Alan noticed a girl standing on the
pavement outside the hospital near a bus stop. She wore an incredibly
short dress with a revealing top, and had long blonde hair. She looked
about 19 or 20, and Alan assumed she was waiting for a taxi. She just
stood there, shivering, stamping her high heels with the cold.
"You're not on the game are you?" Alan joked, attempting to chat her
up.
The girl smiled and shook her head. "I'm dead cold." she complained.
Alan saw his opportunity, and he took off his denim jacket and offered
it to the girl. He said, "Who said chivalry was dead?"
The girl took it and said, "Ta mate." And then put it on. It looked
ridiculous on the girl; it was about three sizes too large for her.
"Waiting for a taxi?" Alan asked her.
"No. Waiting for my boyfriend." said the girl, and looked down
Smithdown Road, squinting as she looked intensely for a sign of her
fiance.
Alan's heart sank. He thought, 'Just my luck. She's going with
someone.'
The girl said, "Oh he does my head in you know; I've been waiting here
for ages. He always does this."
"Does what?" Alan asked.
"Says he's gonna pick me up and then doesn't turn up." said the girl.
"Get another boyfriend who's more reliable then." Alan said, giving
her the hint.
"Nah, I love Tony." said the girl, and she smiled and seemed to be
thinking about her absent fellah.
"But does he love you?" said Alan, and he burped, then said, "scuse
me."
"Oh I suppose he's not coming." moaned the girl, and with a worried
look, she said to Alan, "I wonder if something's happened to him?"
"No, he's probably with some girl. We fellahs are only human y'know,
despite our alien appearance." said Alan, trying to cheer her up.
The girl tutted and walked along. Alan walked with her, looking at her
legs and her figure.
She was a real stunner. "What's your name?"
"Jodie." said the girl.
"Ooh, Jodie Foster eh? My name's Alan. My mates call me Alan Ladd."
Jodie smiled and walked on. Then she bowed her head as if she was
gonna cry or be sick or something. She ran into Toxteth Park Cemetery.
Alan surmised she was either gonna be sick with drinking, or she was
going to powder her nose. He wanted to relieve himself too after all
the drinking.
After about 10 minutes, Alan shouted into the darkness of the
cemetery, "Jodie! Jodie? Are you okay?" And he crept past the
gravestones looking for her. There was no sign of the girl. He
expected to find her on the ground, out cold with drinking, yet she
hadn't appeared drunk. By now it was almost dawn, and the sky was
getting paler by the minute. Then he thought he saw Jodie. "You had me
worried there girl. Eh?" It wasn't Jodie. It was his Denim jacket,
draped over a gravestone. "What's she playing at?" mumbled Alan. Then
he saw Jodie's face, on the gravestone. A photograph of Jodie to be
precise. And underneath the oval photograph the inscription said she
had been born in 1970 and had died tragically in 1990 - just six
months back. Alan was terrified by now. He ran out of the cemetery in
Smithdown Road and didn't stop running until he reached his home
almost a mile away. He fell down on his doorstep when he got home and
his trembling hand inserted the key in the Yale lock.
A week later, he told his two best friends about the ghost he had
tried to chat up, and Brian, one of Alan's mates said his sister had
been a friend of Jodie. Brian told the sad story. Jodie had arranged
to meet her boyfriend near the bus stop at Sefton General hospital on
Smithdown Road, but something tragic happened. Jodie had a hole in her
heart and didn't know. She collapsed near the bus stop and died.
People tried to help her and took her into the hospital but there was
nothing anyone could do. Jodie's parents phoned her boyfriend and told
him the bad news, and he vowed he'd never drive up Smithdown Road
again, he was that upset. And to this day, he never drives near the
road.
On the following night, Alan and his mate Brian walked to Jodie's
grave and placed a bouquet of carnations on it, as Brian's sister said
carnations had been Jodie's favourite flowers. As the lads walked away
from the cemetery, Alan glanced back, and he saw Jodie waving. The
ghost is still occasionally seen by motorists driving up Smithdown
Road in the early hours of the morning. As recently as 1996, a taxi
driver stopped for the girl one morning at 3 a.m., and when he looked
around the pavement was deserted...

 tradurlo.
[...]
Ecco, adesso devo solo capire dov'e' Smithdown Road e fare a meno di 
passarci la notte :-)))
-- 
- Dado : Extreme Snowboarder
*-> I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky <-*

 passarci la notte :-)))
Ti consiglio di comprarti AZ Lierpool o qualcosa del genere. E' un
libriccino bianco estremamente utile. Se non ricordo male costa Ł4.99 e lo
trovi tranquillamente da WH Smiths o similari.
CMQ di notte non passare da neache da Penny Lane e Speke Hall solo per
nominarne due dei piů famosi.
--
     con rispetto
ALBION OF AVALON

 nominarne due dei piů famosi.
Hm c'e' una via malfamatissima in cui passo sistematicamente per tornare a 
casa, ma non mi ricordo il nome, questa sera ci guardo e ti faccio sapere.
Vicino a WaverTree cmq, dove ci sono un sacco di pakistani/indiani qualcosa 
del genere....


Non capisco perchč volete evitare i fantasmi... non puzzano, non sporcano e
spesso nemmeno rompono particolarmente.


 Se permetti ti posto quest'altra storia.
Praticamente questo mio amico mi vuole impedire di girare di notte per
Liverpool :-)))) Ma non ci riuscirà :-))))))))
Scordavo, è la stessa Penny Lane dei Beatles.
Poi non dirmi che non rompono.
HAUNTED LIVERPOOL
The Penny Lane Poltergeist
by Tom Slemen
When the Beatles immortalised Penny Lane in their world-famous song,
they didn't mention the poltergeist who lives at number 44...
In 1930, a family living in Penny Lane were startled out of their
sleep one night by loud noises and thudding footsteps emanating from
number 44, the unoccupied house next door to them.
The source of the nocturnal racket was sought, but to no avail, and
every night, the eerie sound of a restless, insomniacal walker
prevented them from sleeping. In the end, the tormented neighbours
decided to move to another house to escape the nightly cacophony, and
another unsuspecting family moved in to take their place.
The new neighbours of the noisy Penny Lane ghost had no knowledge of
the previous family's predicament, and they soon settled down into
their new home. Then one night in 1945, the sounds of a heavy tread
and an unearthly voice were heard.
The family knew the sounds were coming from the shop next door at
number 44, but couldn't fathom out who was making all the noise, as
the shop had been left uninhabited since being damaged by bombs during
the Blitz. Many more noisy, nerve-shattering nights followed, and the
new residents quickly realised that something strange was going on in
the empty shop next door.
After a long hiatus, the poltergeist came out of retirement and, in
January 1971, gave an unprecedented performance. At the time of the
comeback, number 44 was the "Xerolith" printing shop, owned by Ken
Shackman and John Hampton. One winter evening, when Messrs Shackman
and Hampton had left the shop's premises, the loud sounds of someone
pacing the floor of the empty shop grew to such intensity that
neighbours complained to the police and the shop's owners.
The police investigated the matter with the usual scepticism they show
when they look into such matters, and drew a blank, but Shackman and
Hampton remained open-minded about the ghost in their shop, and they
decided to research the history of number 44.
They shuddered when they unearthed the accounts of the previous
families who had left the houses on each side of number 44 after
reporting the same walking and shuffling noises.
After a journalist from the Liverpool Echo wrote a number of articles
on the ghost's activities, Shackman and Hampton were inundated with
letters and phone-calls from ex-Penny Lane residents who had actually
heard the noisy spectre. One woman who had lived in a manor house near
the haunted printing shop as a child wrote about a supernatural entity
she encountered just after the First World War.
The woman wrote to say she heard the sound of feet walking heavily on
stone steps while in her bedroom one night with her four sisters.
Shortly afterwards, the figure of a young woman materialised in front
of her. The phantom girl just stood there for a few minutes, calmly
combing her long locks of blonde hair before vanishing.
Eager to get to the bottom of the mystery once and for all, Shackman
and Hampton resorted to a thorough search of the printing shop, and
had the floorboards taken up, then the walls checked, the furniture
examined, and the roof inspected. When the search failed to throw any
light on the matter, the owners of the printing shop equipped
themselves with a tape recorder and sat up all night in house next
door.
It was to be a night to remember. The tape rolled and the two brave
men waited anxiously for the ghost to walk. They didn't have to wait
long.
Banging and shuffling started echoing through the room, then
pandemonium let loose and the walls began to vibrate. At the end of
the vigil, the amateur ghost-hunters rewound the tape and listened.
The tape had actually recorded the sounds of the unseen walker -
conclusive proof that the phenomena was not of a psychological origin.
Shackman and Hampton and the neighbours of number 44 noticed that the
ghost was most active on Friday, Saturday and Monday nights, but why
the ghost worked overtime on these particular nights of the weeks is
anybody's guess.
In time the ghostly noises became fainter and fainter, until the
nights at the printing shop were filled with an uneasy silence.
Nowadays, number 44 is a pottery shop, and at the present time the new
residents have not reported any nightly disturbances, but strange
sounds have apparently been heard in the shop next door to number
44...
The Penny Lane Poltergeist might make a comeback yet.

 ha scritto nel messaggio
news:3b0ad...@news.dada.it...
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