We lived on a farm not far from Clarion, PA. It was a nice old farm with a big house. The owner allowed us to live there in exchange for my grandfather doing farm work. I believe it was 40 acres, with one or two part time employees aside from my grandfather. I liked it there better than any other home we ever lived in.
I slept on the second or third floor, in what I took to be an attic. My cousin also slept in the room. She was about 12-14 years of age. To my knowledge, she never had any sightings of what I am about to tell you. Although, it is possible she too saw it, and said nothing. Perhaps one day I will ask her.
I never told this story until I was 30-40 years of age. I am not sure why. I suspect embarrassment perhaps.
What makes this seem odd to me is that it happened several to many times, more than 10, less than 50. I would guess a reasonable estimate would be 20 times within a span of 2 years.
Here is the general scenario that transpired in almost all cases:
I would see a man outside the doorway to the room I slept in. The door was left ajar likely because being 4-5, I was afraid of the dark. I do not know if this man always showed up at the same time or not, but nearly every time the same thing transpired.
He was dressed in dirty, perhaps even ragged clothing. He carried a burlap sack over his shoulder. The sack appeared half full, of what, I have no idea. He had a long gray/white beard and appeared to be in need of a bath. Perhaps appearing 80 years of age. For those who think I might have thought this was what Santa Clause looked like, I did not. He looked nothing like the jolly old fellow in red I had heard about.
He would stop, look directly at me, smile a very friendly looking smile, and wave. I got the impression that he seemed to know me or liked me. After a few seconds he would turn and stroll silently and leisurely away. I never heard any sound of footsteps or anything else.
I was both afraid and curious. On one occasion I obtained enough courage to go to the doorway and peer in the direction of his departure, which by the by was always the same too. I saw nothing.
One time and one time only, I thought for a moment that he was going to come in the room. I was terrified. However, he left after perhaps lingering a bit longer than his usual few seconds. As always he smiled and waved.
Was this a fantasy or dream of a young boy, or was it perhaps exactly what it seemed to be? What do I now, 51 or so years later believe? Well, it's easy to say it was always a dream. Perhaps so. However, I don't believe that.
