We need ghost stories because we, in fact, are the ghosts

Our story so far: As I painted alone one evening on a dresser-cum-vanity in the basement of the 126-year-old Methodist church, a creepy creak and then a thud caught my attention.

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The thud drew my scrutiny to the windows at the back of the church.

In the thickening darkness, I didn’t see a phantom. I saw the back door to the church, swaying in the breeze. And creaking. Because Tyler had recently jackhammered the back steps and cut out part of the wall, the door latched into thin air, and it was swinging to and fro and occasionally slamming shut.

jackhammered steps
See that door on the right? When Tyler cut a hole for the new steps, he also cut away the latch for the door.

This discovery made me laugh out loud.

It was not a ghost. It was the wind.

steel bridge
A look at the steel bridge permitting egress from the back door on the main floor.

A few weeks later, Tyler eliminated the creepy creak by building a proper back egress. The steel fabricator with beautiful but menacing dog we’d met a few weeks prior completed his work on the steel bridge. When my 20something adored stepson paid us a visit, Tyler took advantage of his upper body strength. They hauled the steel bridge into place, and Tyler built a floor and interim railings out of scrap wood. This finalized a proper, if temporary, back entry to the main floor of the church. And eliminated the both the latchless swinging door and the accompanying creak.

back entry with steps
When the garage is built, this addition for the back entry will be removed.

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Today’s headline is a quote from horror writer Stephen King.

Tomorrow: A new back door for the basement, too. See it here.