I am sorry it took so long to write this part-no excuse. The next part will be soon. I promise


This is a ghost story-well not quite-- its more a ghost love story. Its all true, well as true as a old mans memories. But its my story and I am sticking to it. You see I am part of the story.
Many years ago there was a man by the name of R.G. Clark. When R.G. was a young man he made the decision that before he married he would become secure and be able to support a family ( they did that in those days). He and a friend Jim Hulse started a clothing store.
It was a success and R.G. decided it was time to start a family. And he was lucky-he found Grace, a blind date. She was the love of his life, the wait was worth it.
As a Wedding gift he built them a 3 story brick Craftsman home with a full basement. It even had a full bar in the basement so they could have parties during prohibition. Grace decorated the house-picked put the rugs, the china, the curtains-she made it their home.
Life was good, they were in love-only one thing was missing-children. The one thing they wanted most, they were told they could never have. But that was ok, they had each other-that was all the love two people needed.
Then one weekend it came undone-the world ended. After 11 years they had never slept apart, not one night-they didn’t know if they could………
R.G. had to take a train trip to Chicago for a trade show. He didn’t want to go-Grace wasn’t feeling well. She told him to go-it would be ok. It would be ok.
R. G. left, had a good trip and came home. When he entered he called Graces name. No answer, he looked in the kitchen, the back yard, the basement-no Grace.
He finally went upstairs. He found her. In the bed they had shared for 11 years. She was asleep, in a sleep he was unable to wake her from.
They never found what caused her passing-she had just died.
R.G. sat beside her for a full day. He sat with her alone, grieving before he could call and have her taken from their home. Before he could let his love be taken from him.
After Grace died R.G. knew that life had to go on.
She had died and he, part of him had died with her.
He never changed the house. For the rest of his life he kept it as she had. If he needed new carpets, he bought new white carpets and had them died to match the burgundy that she had picked. It wasn’t a mausoleum, it was a memory. It may have been his house-but it had been their home, something he could never forget.
But as life goes on -
There was a young WWII Vet that returned from the war and needed a job and R.G. gave him one at the store.
About 1952 the young man met a young divorcé -a beautiful young red headed lady with a small piece of baggage, she had a son.
R.G. gave them love and support-they became the family he never had. Steve (the young man) became his son-Joan (the lady) his daughter and the boy (me)
His grandson.
He kept track of them-helped them when he could-and mostly just gave them love.
He open his heart, he gave the boy the run of the (much to his mothers dismay) house-it was a house of hidden treasures-hidden rooms and a attic full of more fun than a young boy deserved.
But when the boy was in 6th grade R.G. died.
The boy was to young to know what death really meant - but he knew that some thing important had left him-and wasn’t coming back.
He died-he died in the bed he and Grace had shared. They never had a cause of death, he just died. He went home to his love.
Before he passed he set up his estate so that Steve, Joan and Doug could buy the home. He wanted them to live there, to make it the home he had built it for. A place for a family.
But R.G.’s work on earth wasn’t done. He stayed to on to watch and help.