GHOST STORY: (as told to me) “My son Henry died when he was twenty years old. He was the kind of boy who liked to have fun, always whistling and playing the piano. One night a good while after he died, I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard a whistle. It was in the room with me. I sat up in bed but I couldn't see anything. The whistling went through the room and on into the kitchen, the same kind of whistling that Henry always did. Then the door shut and I didn’t hear it any more. I woke the others, but they hadn’t heard anything and said I must have dreamed it. Nobody had heard it but me. But then afterward we would hear the piano play by itself. There would be a few notes and we would go in to see who was playing and nobody would be in the room. One day it happened when I was in the room all by myself. I turned real quick, but nothing was there. I couldn’t help feeling it was Henry coming back to tell me not to grieve for him. I have felt better about him ever since.”