WEBVTT - S1: EP 8 — “It Sent a Shiver Down My Spine”

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<v Therésa>Hello, my haunties. We're back with a brand new episode

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<v Therésa>of Haunting. It's another windless, weatherless day and purgatory and

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<v Therésa>Len is wearing shorts. Strange.

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Len's saying it's not strange because they're just his normal

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<v Therésa>cargo pants and he unzipped the bottoms, so now they're shorts.

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<v Therésa>But I'd argue that's even worse. Why did he decide

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<v Therésa>to unzip today? Who's he trying to impress? If I

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<v Therésa>didn't know any better, I'd say Len's got a hot

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<v Therésa>date tonight.

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Oh my god, he does have a date tonight. Lend

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<v Therésa>you a little slut?

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<v Therésa>I knew it. Who is she? How'd you meet? Tell

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<v Therésa>us everything? Oh yeah, what's her sign?

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Canadian banshee hot

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>semi-recently deceased? Okay, good? Not too fresh?

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<v Len> (MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Working through some unfinished business, aren't we all?

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Has a dead German shepherd haunts her childhood home. Met

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<v Therésa>on the apps? Ah, cute, Wait we have apps here?

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Ghosted the Afterlife's premiere dating app, connecting supernatural singles looking

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<v Therésa>for their eternal flame till death do us start huh, Naomi,

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<v Therésa>you're on the apps too? How do I not know

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<v Therésa>about this? Well Len, I'm excited for you. The zip off

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<v Therésa>cargo shorts were an interesting choice for a first date.

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<v Therésa>But here's hoping she's the ghoul of your dreams.

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Okay, let's get into our first story. When love calls

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<v Therésa>you answer. That was a segue. It'll make more sense

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<v Therésa>in a minute.

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<v STORY A>I think about what would have happened if we would

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<v STORY A>have answered the phone that day. Could we have maybe

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<v STORY A>communicated back with her, or maybe she had more to say,

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<v STORY A>or maybe it wasn't Even her at all.

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<v STORY A>My name is Corey and I received a phone call

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<v STORY A>from the grave. I'm from Alabama. I've lived here my

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<v STORY A>entire life. It's a small college town, southern hospitality. Wave

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<v STORY A>at your neighbor.

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<v STORY A>There's lots of friendly people, lots of football fans. It's

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<v STORY A>like a religion here. Pretty much everyone in my family

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<v STORY A>is local. We all are kind of tight kit all

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<v STORY A>live in the same area.

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<v STORY A>We're all from Alabama. My great grandmother, she was kind

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<v STORY A>of the glue that held everyone together. We all called

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<v STORY A>her mama. Even her kids called her ma ma when

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<v STORY A>they came over. It was just like her name for us.

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<v STORY A>Her real name is Maude stereotypical old school name, I guess.

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<v STORY A>When I think of my great grandmother, I would describe

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<v STORY A>her as tiny, frail, your typical great grandmother. She had

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<v STORY A>kind of a raspy voice that echoed her age. You know,

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<v STORY A>it was very distinct. If you just ran into her

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<v STORY A>out somewhere and didn't see her, you would know from

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<v STORY A>her voice that it was her. She was very loving

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<v STORY A>and her home was always very welcoming. Everyone just came

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<v STORY A>to her house and it was just a meeting place. Honestly,

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<v STORY A>if you ever came to her house, it would be

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<v STORY A>kind of like a family reunion. A typical day for her,

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<v STORY A>I guess would be doing puzzles and crosswords. She always

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<v STORY A>had QVC playing in the background. I don't think she

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<v STORY A>ever watched it. I think she just liked to hear it.

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<v STORY A>But I just think of her sitting on her couch,

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<v STORY A>just in her certain spot she sat in.

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<v STORY A>She definitely did have her quirks.

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<v STORY A>She grew up through the Great Depression, so she was

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<v STORY A>kind of set in her ways. So a quirk she had

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<v STORY A>was that she didn't really say I love you ever.

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<v STORY A>It was just something she did not say. It was

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<v STORY A>not in her vocabulary, even to her own kids. She

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<v STORY A>never really said I love you. It was always evident

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<v STORY A>that she loved you, but she never said it made

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<v STORY A>her very uncomfortable. That was just something the family respected

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<v STORY A>and we all knew, like, don't get your feelings hurt.

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<v STORY A>I have shared this story with my parents and that's

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<v STORY A>pretty much about it. Outside of my grandparents, who experienced

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<v STORY A>it themselves, I don't really talk about it much. I

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<v STORY A>just kind of keep it to myself. It was late August

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<v STORY A>2005 , about a week after the passing of my

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<v STORY A>great grandmother. She was ninety two years old at the time.

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<v STORY A>I was twelve years old. I'm visiting with my grandparents.

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<v STORY A>Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm very close with them,

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<v STORY A>so going to visit them is a common occurrence. we're

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<v STORY A>sitting around the living room just talking, checking on each other,

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<v STORY A>seeing how we're doing. She had just passed a week prior,

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<v STORY A>so she was definitely coming up in conversation. It was

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<v STORY A>just me, my grandmother, and my granddad. While we were talking,

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<v STORY A>the phone rings.

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<v STORY A>My granddad. He picks up the phone, looks at it,

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<v STORY A>kind of looks kind of puzzled and turns it around

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<v STORY A>and shows us the caller ID. It just shows ten zeros.

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<v STORY A>No name, no number, just ten zeros. Usually when they

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<v STORY A>receive a phone call that you know, it doesn't recognize,

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<v STORY A>it says unknown name, unknown number.

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<v STORY A>That's kind of the standard. But this had no name

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<v STORY A>or anything, just all zeros.

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<v STORY A>He does this thing when he assumes it says spam call.

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<v STORY A>And he held it up and was like, I.

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<v STORY A>Don't know anyone named zero zero zero zero.

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<v STORY A>And the answering machine can get it. He just lets

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<v STORY A>it go. Maybe a minute or so later, the phone

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<v STORY A>lights up. There's a new message. My granddad doesn't like

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<v STORY A>messages on the machine. He likes to clear it all.

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<v STORY A>He picked up the phone and he plays it on speaker.

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<v STORY A>When he hits play, there's just static interference, like someone

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<v STORY A>has a bad connection. I don't want to say as

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<v STORY A>extreme as like TV static or something, but like it

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<v STORY A>was kind of like rustling, and there was some crackling

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<v STORY A>in the message, just like someone was trying to get

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<v STORY A>through and Maybe they were like going into a bridge

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<v STORY A>or something. You know.

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<v STORY A>About ten seconds after the static, we heard the words.

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<v STORY A>It was the distinct voice of my great grandmother.

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<v STORY A>We all just kind of looked at each other and

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<v STORY A>we're just kind of shocked and kind of in disbelief.

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<v STORY A>Did we hear what we think we just heard? My

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<v STORY A>granddad he was like, what was that? Did you hear

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<v STORY A>what I heard? We actually played it back a few times,

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<v STORY A>and sure enough, I love you it was her voice.

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<v STORY A>From the look on everyone's face in the room, we

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<v STORY A>all knew that it was her. It definitely sent a

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<v STORY A>shiver down my spine when you let your mind go

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<v STORY A>there that it could possibly be her. The static of

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<v STORY A>it really gave you an uneasy feeling. It wasn't just

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<v STORY A>I love you, It was a sound like something was

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<v STORY A>struggling to like get that to come through. Twelve year

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<v STORY A>old me was like, we're definitely going to try to

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<v STORY A>call this number back. I grabbed the phone and hit

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<v STORY A>re dial on the caller ID.

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<v STORY A>Sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is

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<v STORY A>no longer in service.

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<v STORY A>typical like robot voice thing says that this is not

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<v STORY A>a valid number. That just kind of blew my mind.

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<v STORY A>I expected it to, you know, call someone or some thing,

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<v STORY A>you know, like I didn't expect it to say that.

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<v STORY A>It was just a repeat of basically the original call,

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<v STORY A>just like wide eyes and staring at each other like.

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<v STORY A>What just happened.

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<v STORY A>I expected someone to pick up, some old lady to

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<v STORY A>pick up that had their own number.

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<v STORY A>That did not happen.

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<v STORY A>I was very stunned to find out that it was

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<v STORY A>not an actual number. Up until the very day of

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<v STORY A>her passing, she still never even told my granddad that

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<v STORY A>she loved him. I feel like she had regrets or

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<v STORY A>she just needed to let him know that before moving on.

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<v STORY A>It does provide another sense of comfort, especially for my

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<v STORY A>granddad because that was his mom.

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<v STORY A>I definitely feel like it was something he needed to hear.

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<v STORY A>I feel like it gave my granddad closure and some comfort,

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<v STORY A>just knowing that maybe she's okay, that she does definitely

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<v STORY A>love him, even though he knows. But it's just a

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<v STORY A>comforting feeling, even for me, so I know it has

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<v STORY A>to be for him, you know. It definitely has changed

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<v STORY A>my perspective. When you see a number pop up that

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<v STORY A>you don't know, there's always someone on the other end

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<v STORY A>trying to reach you for whatever reason. It does make

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<v STORY A>you stop and think, because once it hangs up, you

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<v STORY A>know that's it. You don't get a second chance. But

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<v STORY A>if instead of it going to voicemail. If we had answered,

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<v STORY A>could we have communicated back?

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<v Therésa>Len? Corey's mama's ghost could be you tonight. I'm kidding obviously,

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<v Therésa>don't tell you love her on the first date, but

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<v Therésa>I'll admit you got me inspired. I made a ghosted profile.

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<v Therésa>It's really hard to get a good picture.

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<v Therésa>When I look around, all I've seen of other people

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<v Therésa>are a lot of ethereal blobs and what looks like

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<v Therésa>water damage. Ooh, this guy seems fun. He's a wraith. Okay,

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<v Therésa>bad boy perpetually twenty eight worst fad I ever participated

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<v Therésa>in tuberculosis. He's funny. Ooh, this one's a voice note.

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<v Len>(MUMBLES)

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<v Therésa>Okay, Okay, I'm convinced that (GROWL)

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<v Therésa>hmm, guttural. I'm swiping right, Anyway. Dating is a numbers game.

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<v Therésa>It's all about racking up matches and seeing what sticks. Naomi,

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<v Therésa>have you met anyone on here a nice incubus to

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<v Therésa>settle down with maybe?

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<v Therésa>Well, I don't know what you're into? Alright, While I

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<v Therésa>survey the goods. Meet Kim, Who's haunted farmhouse became something

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<v Therésa>of a daycare when a friendly spirit decided to play babysitter.

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<v STORY B>On this one particular day. It was a cold February morning.

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<v STORY B>It was just me and the babies in the house.

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<v STORY B>When they woke up, they were hysterical, inconsolable. I could

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<v STORY B>hear them screaming and crying from the kitchen, and then

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<v STORY B>all of a sudden, they stopped crying. In all of

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<v STORY B>this confusion, I had forgotten to turn the monitor on.

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<v STORY B>When I turned it on, I heard something. Someone's in

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<v STORY B>the house and I have no idea who this is.

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<v STORY B>It's scary and I don't know what to do. My

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<v STORY B>name is Kim, and there was something in the house

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<v STORY B>with me. Back in the seventies, my family moved into

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<v STORY B>this old farmhouse. It was on a hill, white with

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<v STORY B>black shutters and a porch that went the entire length

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<v STORY B>of the front of the home and the side of

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<v STORY B>the home, with a large living room and seven bedrooms,

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<v STORY B>four on the second floor and three on the third floor.

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<v STORY B>When you come up the street, that's the first house

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<v STORY B>that you would see, and I think it was one

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<v STORY B>of the original farmhouses for that area of Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

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<v STORY B>My mother found records and she talked to the previous owners.

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<v STORY B>They lived there from the forties the fifties the sixties

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<v STORY B>until we get this in the seventies. They said the

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<v STORY B>farmhouse was built in nineteen hundred and then in about

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<v STORY B>nineteen thirties it was taken over by a woman named

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<v STORY B>missus Dagandesh. She was an old, heavyset woman and I

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<v STORY B>think she was German. She started a boarding house for

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<v STORY B>nuns and single ladies and whomever for a brand new

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<v STORY B>high school that was being built in Southampton. When we

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<v STORY B>moved in in the seventies, my father put an addition

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<v STORY B>on the back of the house. He put a rec room,

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<v STORY B>another set of stairs, another bedroom, and a big bathroom.

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<v STORY B>So it was a big and beautiful old house. from

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<v STORY B>the moment we moved into that house, From the very

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<v STORY B>first night, I would hear footsteps. If I was in

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<v STORY B>my room, I would hear footsteps, and I would look

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<v STORY B>down the hall and there would be no one there.

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<v STORY B>It wasn't every night, but it was consistent, and you

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<v STORY B>just knew that it wasn't a brother or sister because

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<v STORY B>they wouldn't head down that part of the hallway. And

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<v STORY B>it was never in the new part of the house.

0:14:45.920 --> 0:14:48.400
<v STORY B>It was always in the old part of the house.

0:14:49.360 --> 0:14:54.960
<v STORY B>It was creepy as hell. When me and my sisters used

0:14:54.960 --> 0:14:57.600
<v STORY B>to sneak in late at night, we always thought it

0:14:57.680 --> 0:15:00.400
<v STORY B>was either our mother or our father finding out that

0:15:00.480 --> 0:15:02.280
<v STORY B>we were sneaking in late at night. And you would

0:15:02.320 --> 0:15:06.640
<v STORY B>turn around and there would be nothing there. Or I

0:15:06.680 --> 0:15:10.360
<v STORY B>would walk up the long stairway and there's footsteps behind me,

0:15:10.760 --> 0:15:14.920
<v STORY B>but I'm alone. Usually I would hear these footsteps on

0:15:15.000 --> 0:15:17.200
<v STORY B>the way to this back room that we called the

0:15:17.240 --> 0:15:21.480
<v STORY B>Agnes of God room. My mother named the room the Agnes

0:15:21.520 --> 0:15:27.840
<v STORY B>of God room. That was from an awful movie with Jane

0:15:27.920 --> 0:15:32.600
<v STORY B>Fonda about a nun who murdered a baby. It was

0:15:32.640 --> 0:15:38.160
<v STORY B>creepy and weird. So this particular hallway to the right

0:15:38.280 --> 0:15:40.720
<v STORY B>was the Agnes of God room. To the left of that

0:15:41.000 --> 0:15:44.600
<v STORY B>was the nursery, and then another room, and the Agnes

0:15:44.640 --> 0:15:48.320
<v STORY B>of God Room is the room that missus Dagandash apparently

0:15:48.880 --> 0:15:55.160
<v STORY B>died in. I was always too scared walking down the

0:15:55.200 --> 0:16:00.520
<v STORY B>hallway towards the Agnes of God room, because as soon as

0:16:00.560 --> 0:16:09.400
<v STORY B>you hit the landing, I hear footsteps. I turn around

0:16:10.840 --> 0:16:17.560
<v STORY B>and there's no one there. It was a heavy footstep,

0:16:17.760 --> 0:16:21.640
<v STORY B>it was a good sturdy shoe. They were just footsteps.

0:16:24.400 --> 0:16:27.880
<v STORY B>When I told my mother this story of Missus Dagandash

0:16:27.920 --> 0:16:31.720
<v STORY B>and the footsteps. She said, you don't need to be

0:16:31.760 --> 0:16:37.040
<v STORY B>scared here, because we're always safe with me. My mother

0:16:37.200 --> 0:16:41.320
<v STORY B>called herself a strega, which an Italian means witch. She

0:16:41.560 --> 0:16:45.280
<v STORY B>was named that through a woman from South Philadelphia who

0:16:45.320 --> 0:16:47.800
<v STORY B>sat on the corner, who all the children were very,

0:16:47.880 --> 0:16:51.560
<v STORY B>very frightened of, who was also a strega. When this

0:16:51.600 --> 0:16:56.080
<v STORY B>woman passed, she gave this kit to my mother. It

0:16:56.120 --> 0:17:00.360
<v STORY B>was a hollowed out wooden, beautiful carved crucifix maybe a

0:17:00.400 --> 0:17:07.960
<v STORY B>foot tall, and inside was special oil, holy water, and sage.

0:17:09.880 --> 0:17:13.399
<v STORY B>That kit stayed underneath her bed for as long as

0:17:13.440 --> 0:17:17.720
<v STORY B>I can remember. I was always too scared to even

0:17:17.760 --> 0:17:20.560
<v STORY B>open it up. But that is what kept her from

0:17:20.600 --> 0:17:23.199
<v STORY B>being so frightened of anything in the house, because she

0:17:23.280 --> 0:17:26.760
<v STORY B>had the kit, and she was convinced that Missus Dagandash

0:17:27.320 --> 0:17:30.280
<v STORY B>or whatever they were good spirits, that they would not

0:17:30.400 --> 0:17:36.879
<v STORY B>harm us. So flash forward to when I have a

0:17:36.920 --> 0:17:39.800
<v STORY B>beautiful set of twin babies, and it was a lot

0:17:39.840 --> 0:17:41.840
<v STORY B>to take care of. The apartment that my husband and

0:17:41.880 --> 0:17:44.760
<v STORY B>I lived in would not allow children, so we moved

0:17:44.880 --> 0:17:49.120
<v STORY B>back in with my family. It was always a very

0:17:49.160 --> 0:17:52.640
<v STORY B>busy household with kids and sisters and siblings and aunts

0:17:52.640 --> 0:17:58.119
<v STORY B>and uncles and grandparents and everything else. This one particular

0:17:58.240 --> 0:18:01.159
<v STORY B>day was just me and the babies in the house.

0:18:01.680 --> 0:18:05.719
<v STORY B>And these babies didn't sleep a wink the night before.

0:18:06.359 --> 0:18:08.639
<v STORY B>They were both sleeping in the same crib at the time.

0:18:09.160 --> 0:18:14.240
<v STORY B>When I got them up in the morning, they were hysterical, inconsolable.

0:18:15.000 --> 0:18:17.560
<v STORY B>The blankets were in the corner of their crib. I

0:18:17.600 --> 0:18:21.320
<v STORY B>took them out of bed. I was trying to console them.

0:18:21.560 --> 0:18:25.080
<v STORY B>Are they hungry? Are they sick? Do they need a doctor?

0:18:25.800 --> 0:18:29.280
<v STORY B>I'm frightened. I'm not usually by myself. I usually have

0:18:29.440 --> 0:18:32.800
<v STORY B>people here to help me. There was nothing I could

0:18:32.840 --> 0:18:37.720
<v STORY B>do to make these babies happy. I'm scared, and I

0:18:37.720 --> 0:18:41.280
<v STORY B>don't know where to turn. So I put them both

0:18:41.359 --> 0:18:46.080
<v STORY B>down in their crib and ran downstairs to get them

0:18:46.240 --> 0:18:51.359
<v STORY B>a bottle and some medicine because they are clearly not

0:18:51.480 --> 0:18:58.080
<v STORY B>feeling well. I could hear them screaming and crying the

0:18:58.119 --> 0:19:01.120
<v STORY B>whole time as I ran down the hallway into the kitchen.

0:19:03.400 --> 0:19:11.199
<v STORY B>Then all of a sudden, they stopped crying, but I

0:19:11.240 --> 0:19:15.800
<v STORY B>heard something. I ran to get the monitor, and when

0:19:15.800 --> 0:19:22.200
<v STORY B>I turned it on, I hear humming and then singing.

0:19:23.680 --> 0:19:29.240
<v STORY B>But I am home alone, but I could hear a lullaby.

0:19:29.400 --> 0:19:32.840
<v STORY B>A woman is singing a lullaby to my babies. And

0:19:32.960 --> 0:19:39.360
<v STORY B>I have no idea who this is. It was an

0:19:39.400 --> 0:19:45.359
<v STORY B>old German lullaby. I stopped dead in my tracks. I

0:19:45.480 --> 0:19:49.119
<v STORY B>dropped the bottle and I stood still for a moment.

0:19:49.280 --> 0:19:55.080
<v STORY B>I didn't move. It didn't make any sense. There was

0:19:55.160 --> 0:19:59.960
<v STORY B>no one home who could be singing to my babies.

0:20:00.960 --> 0:20:03.439
<v STORY B>There's no radio in there, there's no television in there.

0:20:03.480 --> 0:20:09.600
<v STORY B>There's no one else home who could be singing. And

0:20:09.640 --> 0:20:15.639
<v STORY B>then reality strikes. I flew up the stairs two at

0:20:15.680 --> 0:20:20.480
<v STORY B>a time, ran down the hallway, ran into the room

0:20:20.520 --> 0:20:26.160
<v STORY B>as fast as I could. When I get back to them,

0:20:26.359 --> 0:20:32.600
<v STORY B>my two babies, beautiful babies, are sleeping soundly. They are safe,

0:20:33.400 --> 0:20:36.399
<v STORY B>with blankets over them, without a care in the world.

0:20:37.760 --> 0:20:41.320
<v STORY B>There is no one there. They had blankets over them.

0:20:41.600 --> 0:20:44.320
<v STORY B>I can't even tell you how that happened. There was

0:20:44.359 --> 0:20:47.880
<v STORY B>blankets in the crib, but they certainly weren't on them

0:20:47.880 --> 0:20:50.840
<v STORY B>when I went down, because they were kicking and screaming

0:20:50.920 --> 0:20:57.440
<v STORY B>and crying, so someone or something had pulled the blankets

0:20:57.480 --> 0:21:04.440
<v STORY B>over them. It felt surreal. I'm looking at two babies

0:21:04.480 --> 0:21:09.240
<v STORY B>who are calm and sleeping, and I remember feeling relief

0:21:10.240 --> 0:21:17.440
<v STORY B>and thankful, but not understanding who was singing and who

0:21:17.480 --> 0:21:21.760
<v STORY B>covered them up. It's scary and it's wonderful all in

0:21:21.840 --> 0:21:25.480
<v STORY B>the same moment. I feel like I want to say

0:21:25.480 --> 0:21:28.560
<v STORY B>thank you to missus Dagandash, because she put these babies

0:21:28.560 --> 0:21:30.560
<v STORY B>to sleep. And there were many nights after that that

0:21:30.640 --> 0:21:33.040
<v STORY B>I said to her, Missus Dagandash, where the hell are you?

0:21:33.560 --> 0:21:34.760
<v STORY B>I could use you today.

0:21:46.800 --> 0:21:49.000
<v Therésa>If I could sing, I'd be on every baby monitor

0:21:49.000 --> 0:21:53.000
<v Therésa>in America. And I get that this story is unsettling,

0:21:53.359 --> 0:21:57.359
<v Therésa>dead non disembodied voice, the general weirdness of twins, but

0:21:57.440 --> 0:22:00.560
<v Therésa>other than a visit from a beloved dead relative, this

0:22:00.680 --> 0:22:04.800
<v Therésa>is best case scenario paranormal encounter. Actually, both of today's

0:22:04.840 --> 0:22:07.800
<v Therésa>stories were kind of feel good. Between that, Len's date,

0:22:07.920 --> 0:22:10.280
<v Therésa>my six new matches seven if you count the couple,

0:22:10.600 --> 0:22:12.840
<v Therésa>I'd say it's been a pretty good day at Haunting HQ.

0:22:14.760 --> 0:22:17.359
<v Therésa>And look at that Len decided to rezip his shorts

0:22:17.359 --> 0:22:18.520
<v Therésa>into pants After all.

0:22:23.359 --> 0:22:23.600
<v Len>(GRUMBLES)

0:22:25.000 --> 0:22:28.120
<v Therésa>You need help. Len, I'm not touching your knees. Are

0:22:28.119 --> 0:22:36.520
<v Therésa>you insane? Don't start, Naomi. It's basically Gray area workplace harassment. Well,

0:22:36.560 --> 0:22:39.639
<v Therésa>it's been an almost good day. I'm gonna figure out

0:22:39.640 --> 0:22:41.760
<v Therésa>if we have an HR department here, But you guys

0:22:41.800 --> 0:22:44.240
<v Therésa>know the drill. If you've got a supernatural experience you'd

0:22:44.280 --> 0:22:47.800
<v Therésa>like to share with us, email Len at HauntingThePodcast@gmail.com and

0:22:47.880 --> 0:22:51.640
<v Therésa>your story could be featured in one of our upcoming episodes. Now,

0:22:51.680 --> 0:22:54.400
<v Therésa>everyone wish Len good luck on his date and tune

0:22:54.440 --> 0:22:56.760
<v Therésa>in next week for the dirty deets because on this pod,

0:22:57.320 --> 0:23:00.720
<v Therésa>we haunt, we hoe, we kiss, we tell love you all.

0:23:05.359 --> 0:23:08.000
<v Credits>If you have a haunting story to share, please email

0:23:08.080 --> 0:23:12.960
<v Credits>us at HauntingThePodcast@gmail.com. Haunting is a production of Glass Podcast

0:23:13.000 --> 0:23:17.119
<v Credits>in partnership with iHeart Podcast. Haunting was created and executive produced

0:23:17.119 --> 0:23:20.720
<v Credits>by Nancy Glass and Andrea Gunning, Ben Fetterman, and Lauren Lapkus.

0:23:21.200 --> 0:23:24.320
<v Credits>It is hosted by Lauren Lapkus as her character Therésa.

0:23:24.880 --> 0:23:27.800
<v Credits>Haunting is directed by Aleah Welsh and produced by Trey Morgan.

0:23:28.000 --> 0:23:30.240
<v Credits>It is written by Aleah Welsh, with additional writing by

0:23:30.359 --> 0:23:34.600
<v Credits>Nancy Glass, Trey Morgan, Ben Fetterman, and Kristin Melchiorre. Additional

0:23:34.640 --> 0:23:38.000
<v Credits>production support by Todd Ganz. Additional voice acting by Trey

0:23:38.040 --> 0:23:42.080
<v Credits>Morgan as the character producer Len Walker. Editing and sound

0:23:42.080 --> 0:23:45.320
<v Credits>designed by Matt Delvecchio with additional editing by Nico Arouca.

0:23:46.040 --> 0:23:49.560
<v Credits>Mixed and mastered by Dave Saia. Operations, and production support

0:23:49.560 --> 0:23:53.720
<v Credits>by Kristin Melchiorre. Haunting's theme and original compositions were composed

0:23:53.720 --> 0:23:57.360
<v Credits>by Oliver Baines and Dorry Macaulay of Noiser. Music Library

0:23:57.400 --> 0:24:01.040
<v Credits>provided by Mibe Music. Special thanks to Speakeasy Sound Studios

0:24:01.040 --> 0:24:04.520
<v Credits>in Burbank, California. Follow us on social media by searching

0:24:04.560 --> 0:24:08.680
<v Credits>for Glass Podcast or by visiting glasspodcasts.com . For more

0:24:08.720 --> 0:24:12.639
<v Credits>shows from iHeart Podcasts and Glass podcast, visit the iHeartRadio app,

0:24:12.760 --> 0:24:17.760
<v Credits>Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts