Doppplergangers From The Big Red House


Let me start my next ghost story / tale of the big red house with a brief over view about doppelgangers because it is extremely relevant to my own encounter.



A doppelganger is an extremely rare paranormal phenomenon. The majority of paranormal groups will never become involved in a doppelganger case, but it is one in which we should mention because as rare as it is – it does happen from time to time.

A doppelganger is a physical double of a living person. The word is derived from German meaning “double walker”. The term has expanded beyond the paranormal realm and it has become a word to refer to any look-alike of any person. In paranormal terms, it has a much more mysterious meaning. Most doppelgangers are experienced when someone catches an image of themselves in their peripheral vision.

In older times, to see your own doppelganger was an omen of your impending death. (Wasn’t everything a bad omen back then?) Your doppelganger seen by a friend or family was also considered bad luck and an omen of an approaching illness. Again in folklore, a doppelganger cast no shadow or reflection and was supposed to advise the person they shadow – often providing misleading and malicious messages.

You may be asking why we are discussing this if this topic was the result of old folklore. While the folklore seems to be preposterous, there are recorded events of doppelgangers that baffle not only paranormal investigators – but family members and in some instances police officers.

A doppelganger can be the result of energy that a live person has expended that has somehow been recorded and replays itself – like a residual haunting, only with the energy of a live person. There are many reports of people being haunted by their likenesses reliving some traumatic event in their own lives.

There are also claims of doppelgangers that appear responsive and have an inkling of intelligence to them. How this occurs is a mystery for all of us. It is a relatively rare phenomenon and one that needs further research.

A very real possibility for a doppelganger image is a crisis apparition. A crisis apparition is an image of a living person who is usually in grave danger or injury. They are able to subconsciously reach out to loved ones, often times many miles away.


The above info is from a site, I’ll give credit to at the end of this post.


Now, let’s go back in time to my childhood and the massive red house I grew up in. My mom was rather strict with bedtime, but her perfect routine of bath time and then a story before lights out worked like a charm. After my mom tucked me into my bed, I always STAYED in bed.

My mom would go downstairs after putting my siblings and me to bed. She’d clean up the kitchen, living room, and playroom, and then relax and watch tv. Her favorite arm chair was pushed up against the living room wall only inches a way from the door way between the living room and kitchen. She’d sit in her chair, enjoying her program, only to be interrupted from her leisure by the sound of children’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

“Go to bed,” she’d warn the mischievous children assuming it was my siblings and me, out of bed, and up to no good. The laughter and patter of little feet running around the kitchen would continue. My mom would scold “us” a couple of more times before she’d get up to force us to go back upstairs to bed. As the children came into her peripheral vision, they’d vanish in thin air before she could approach them. She could never quite tell about 2 of the children and their likeness to that of my sister and brother, but the third spectral was a dead ringer for me. However, I can assure you that when my mom put me to bed at night, I stayed in bed. I never got up. I never went down stairs. As I’ve mentioned in a previous story, those stairs terrified me. I would never want to venture down them at night, in the dark.

When I was young, I had developed a bad habit of running off to my neighbors house to play with my best friend. I was notorious for taking off, leaving without a grown up, or letting my parents know where I was going. One day while my older siblings were at school, I was home alone with my mom. I don’t remember much about that day. I assume I was playing with legos or some other toy in my playroom.  My mom was busy cleaning the house. At some point I slipped away and ran up the street to see if I could play with my friend. My mom didn’t notice that yet again, I’d taken off. She went down to the basement to use the washing machine and dryer we had stacked up on pallets down there.

As she loaded the washing machine facing the wall, she heard the giggling and laughter of a small child. She assumed it to be me since I was the only one home with her. She spoke to me with loving words of what a mom would usually say to a 3 or 4 year old child. She felt my small arms wrap around her, hugging her. Then with such force that no small child could possibly exude, “I” shoved her forward, causing her body to slam up against the washing machine. She said she could hear me laughing and saw my backside as I ran into my father’s workshop, which was really just a hidden room in the basement. At one point in the house’s history this room had been completely sealed off. My mom ran up the stairs, slammed the door shut behind her, and dead bolted it shut. She yelled through the closed door that I couldn’t come out until I said “sorry”.

For the next hour she heard me up on the basement stairs, behind the door, kicking at it, screaming my head off. That’s when the phone rang. Even as my neighbor had explained to my mom that I had been at her house for the past two hours and she just realized I didn’t tell my mom I’d taken off, my mom could still hear me screaming on the stairs. What really spooked her was she could also hear me in the back round, at my neighbors house. When my mom hung up the phone, she was chilled to the bone. All at once the racket “I” was making stopped and the house was silent around her. My mom is a very religious person. After that day there was always a bottle of holy water on top of the washing machine. I once asked my mom why it was there, hesitantly she told me this story.

I should pause right here to let you know that my mom was NOT the type of person to tell ghost stories or say anything about the house that might scare me. If anything she totally played down any of the numerous scary encounters we experienced. I didn’t even feel comfortable talking to my mom when something paranormal seeming went down. During the time we lived in this house, my sister was the only one I’d confide it because she was the only one who didn’t use the “your imagination is running away with you” excuse.

When I was in 6th grade, I took a bus home from school everyday. My older sister went to different school and she always came home before me. Every school day was the same routine. At 3:30 the bus would drop me off. I’d run straight up stairs to use the bathroom (I never used the bathrooms at school if I could help it). After I relieved myself, I’d go downstairs to get a snack and watch some tv. 

One day, it seemed like any other, I ran off the bus, through the house, and up to the bathroom. “Hi! I’m home” I said to my sister as I passed by her room on the way to the bathroom. I did my business and as I passed by her own my way back down stairs, I realized she looked very freaked out. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

My sister explained to me that apparently, I had already came home from school. I did what I always did… sort off. She heard me come into the house through the back door. She heard me run up the stairs. She saw me pass by her room on my way to the bathroom. She heard me go into the bathroom. She even heard the toilet flush. The only “off” thing was that when I was done, I went into my bedroom and shut the door instead of going back down stairs to watch tv, like I always do. About 10 minutes later while I was “supposedly” went in my room, she heard the school bus stop outside our house. She checked her watch. It was 3:30, the usual time I made it home by. She got really scared when she saw me from her window getting off the bus and walking up to the house. She was positive I had already been home and was in my room. My sister swears up and down it wasn’t a dream nor was it a case of deja-vu. The thing is, I was really terrified of the 2nd floor of the house. I only went upstairs to use the bathroom or when I had to be in my room for bed. Never did I go in my room to do school work or hang out, unless I had a friend over. I refused to even close the door to my room because being in the room with my door shut made me feel like I was in the room with something else. As a kid, I tried to spend as little time as humanly possible away from the 2nd floor.

Years later I loved to read anything on paranormal activity… I stumbled upon doppelganger lore. It seems to fit. I’ve never seen my doppelganger, but my mom and sister have. I wonder if an entity mimicked me or was it some glitch in time. I guess I’ll never really know.

Oh and here’s the link to doppelganger info:

Very interesting read




4 thoughts on “Doppplergangers From The Big Red House”

  1. Thanks! Unfortunately the photo / artwork doesn’t have much to do with the story other than the spookiness it emanates.
    I really love any artwork or graphics that involve skeletons, angels, demons, etc.

  2. Lol. You see it as scary, but at the time I saw it as normal. I grew up in that house shared itself with unseen occupants that had been there before my parents ever bought the place. This house was/is a paranormal hot spot. I think altogether there was 4 – 5 spirits living there, poltergeist activity, and …. possibly one demon.

    By the time I was a teenager I was really use to the weird noises, voices, shadows, and cold spots. I was so use to the weird, oppressive atmosphere that it didn’t bother me too much anymore. Only one or two experiences really, really freaked me.

    Un/fortunately I’m sensitive, my sister is, and my daughter is as well. No matter where we move to the activity doesn’t stop. We’ve all learned to live life with it.

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