Real ghost stories from real people.

This is Into the Paranormal with Tony Bruske.

They say the past never truly dies.

That the weight of memory, pain, and tragedy can linger long after the people who lived it are gone.

But what happens when that past is stored in a single house,

one with blood-stained relics, forgotten photographs, and locked rooms that haven't changed in

over a century? Today's story takes us to a historic Civil War Museum nestled in a worn corner

of Philadelphia, a quiet place on the surface filled with dusty books and war-torn mementos.

But for one new volunteer, it quickly became something else entirely.

It started with a single sound, a crash that shook the old house to its bones,

and ended with a string of small disturbing details no camera could quite explain.

He thought he was alone,

but something else was there, something that remembered. And all it took to awaken it was his song.

Let's get to the letter. They write, Tony, long-time listener, first-time writer.

I never thought I'd be the one sending in a story like this, not because I haven't had experiences I have growing up, but they always seemed to fade with time, like childhood fears or old dreams.

After I turned 17, the odd things just stopped.

Or maybe I stopped noticing.

But last week on March 19th, something happened that pulled me right back into that familiar unease.

And this time, I couldn't explain it away.

I volunteer at the Ashwood Civil War Museum and Historical Library,

a modest place tucked inside a fading three-story home in a forgotten part of the city,

the kind of place you'd walk past without a second glance unless you knew its story.

...