Ffirst a little history…i am from washington state and lived on the coast until i got married, my grandparents lived in a very petite town called up-to-date london which can be found outside of hoquiam on highway 101 going north. my grandmother was a psychic and every friday night she would have a session in my grandparents living room. this house was built by my grandfather and great grandfather from the logging bunk house, it was two stories and two bedrooms and a one car garage.
My grandfather built (and had several patents for) band saws that were used on the West Coast and in Canada in enormous sawmills. I believe some of them are still there. He had a very enormous machine shop with an office where he made saws, so he needed a very enormous driveway for trucks to drive in and out of. The driveway led to the house and was all gravel, so when someone pulled into the driveway you could hear the crunch of gravel off the tires as they drove up to the house, and at night, with the airy from the two enormous street lights flooding the house, it was very unlikely that anyone could get into the house without being seen.
There was no fee for the invitation to the sessions, information was simply passed on orally, all you had to do was arrive at 7:00 p.m. and stay until the end of the meeting.
It was an autumn evening, I remember it because the sun set earlier and it was obscure before the evening started. About 9 or 10 people came that evening, including my father and me. The hall airy was on so that the back of the house was lit up, so if anyone needed a break, they would have no problem. The curtains that were over the front window and the side window overlooking the terrace that led to the front door were open so that the airy from the street lights could come into the living room.
At exactly 7:30 the meeting began as on any normal Friday evening… Two people came in for just a moment and there was a sort of silence and then from outside we heard a car turn into the driveway and slowly pull into the driveway and stop right outside the window. I wanted to get up and see who it was but my dad shook his head no and whispered for me to sit still… the engine died and first one car door opened, then two more opened and closed, the first one hearing footsteps walking on the gravel and then nothing as they crossed the grass to the pavement and then up the wooden steps and across the deck to stop right outside the window. My dad got up to open the door but looked out the window to see who was there first and stopped dead in his tracks…my grandpa took one look at him and then turned to look out the windshield where the car was…or should I say should have been…there was nothing there…after what was probably only a few seconds but seemed like a lot longer it was like they saw what they wanted and turned around and went down the steps and opened the car door, closed it, started the engine and slowly backed out of the driveway. Every single one of us heard the same thing that night, we all got up to look out the windshield…there was nothing there.
