Therésa: Hello, my haunties. We're back with a brand new episode
Therésa: of Haunting. It's another windless, weatherless day and purgatory and
Therésa: Len is wearing shorts. Strange.
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Len's saying it's not strange because they're just his normal
Therésa: cargo pants and he unzipped the bottoms, so now they're shorts.
Therésa: But I'd argue that's even worse. Why did he decide
Therésa: to unzip today? Who's he trying to impress? If I
Therésa: didn't know any better, I'd say Len's got a hot
Therésa: date tonight.
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Oh my god, he does have a date tonight. Lend
Therésa: you a little slut?
Therésa: I knew it. Who is she? How'd you meet? Tell
Therésa: us everything? Oh yeah, what's her sign?
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Canadian banshee hot
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: semi-recently deceased? Okay, good? Not too fresh?
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Working through some unfinished business, aren't we all?
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Has a dead German shepherd haunts her childhood home. Met
Therésa: on the apps? Ah, cute, Wait we have apps here?
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Ghosted the Afterlife's premiere dating app, connecting supernatural singles looking
Therésa: for their eternal flame till death do us start huh, Naomi,
Therésa: you're on the apps too? How do I not know
Therésa: about this? Well Len, I'm excited for you. The zip off
Therésa: cargo shorts were an interesting choice for a first date.
Therésa: But here's hoping she's the ghoul of your dreams.
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Okay, let's get into our first story. When love calls
Therésa: you answer. That was a segue. It'll make more sense
Therésa: in a minute.
STORY A: I think about what would have happened if we would
STORY A: have answered the phone that day. Could we have maybe
STORY A: communicated back with her, or maybe she had more to say,
STORY A: or maybe it wasn't Even her at all.
STORY A: My name is Corey and I received a phone call
STORY A: from the grave. I'm from Alabama. I've lived here my
STORY A: entire life. It's a small college town, southern hospitality. Wave
STORY A: at your neighbor.
STORY A: There's lots of friendly people, lots of football fans. It's
STORY A: like a religion here. Pretty much everyone in my family
STORY A: is local. We all are kind of tight kit all
STORY A: live in the same area.
STORY A: We're all from Alabama. My great grandmother, she was kind
STORY A: of the glue that held everyone together. We all called
STORY A: her mama. Even her kids called her ma ma when
STORY A: they came over. It was just like her name for us.
STORY A: Her real name is Maude stereotypical old school name, I guess.
STORY A: When I think of my great grandmother, I would describe
STORY A: her as tiny, frail, your typical great grandmother. She had
STORY A: kind of a raspy voice that echoed her age. You know,
STORY A: it was very distinct. If you just ran into her
STORY A: out somewhere and didn't see her, you would know from
STORY A: her voice that it was her. She was very loving
STORY A: and her home was always very welcoming. Everyone just came
STORY A: to her house and it was just a meeting place. Honestly,
STORY A: if you ever came to her house, it would be
STORY A: kind of like a family reunion. A typical day for her,
STORY A: I guess would be doing puzzles and crosswords. She always
STORY A: had QVC playing in the background. I don't think she
STORY A: ever watched it. I think she just liked to hear it.
STORY A: But I just think of her sitting on her couch,
STORY A: just in her certain spot she sat in.
STORY A: She definitely did have her quirks.
STORY A: She grew up through the Great Depression, so she was
STORY A: kind of set in her ways. So a quirk she had
STORY A: was that she didn't really say I love you ever.
STORY A: It was just something she did not say. It was
STORY A: not in her vocabulary, even to her own kids. She
STORY A: never really said I love you. It was always evident
STORY A: that she loved you, but she never said it made
STORY A: her very uncomfortable. That was just something the family respected
STORY A: and we all knew, like, don't get your feelings hurt.
STORY A: I have shared this story with my parents and that's
STORY A: pretty much about it. Outside of my grandparents, who experienced
STORY A: it themselves, I don't really talk about it much. I
STORY A: just kind of keep it to myself. It was late August
STORY A: 2005 , about a week after the passing of my
STORY A: great grandmother. She was ninety two years old at the time.
STORY A: I was twelve years old. I'm visiting with my grandparents.
STORY A: Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm very close with them,
STORY A: so going to visit them is a common occurrence. we're
STORY A: sitting around the living room just talking, checking on each other,
STORY A: seeing how we're doing. She had just passed a week prior,
STORY A: so she was definitely coming up in conversation. It was
STORY A: just me, my grandmother, and my granddad. While we were talking,
STORY A: the phone rings.
STORY A: My granddad. He picks up the phone, looks at it,
STORY A: kind of looks kind of puzzled and turns it around
STORY A: and shows us the caller ID. It just shows ten zeros.
STORY A: No name, no number, just ten zeros. Usually when they
STORY A: receive a phone call that you know, it doesn't recognize,
STORY A: it says unknown name, unknown number.
STORY A: That's kind of the standard. But this had no name
STORY A: or anything, just all zeros.
STORY A: He does this thing when he assumes it says spam call.
STORY A: And he held it up and was like, I.
STORY A: Don't know anyone named zero zero zero zero.
STORY A: And the answering machine can get it. He just lets
STORY A: it go. Maybe a minute or so later, the phone
STORY A: lights up. There's a new message. My granddad doesn't like
STORY A: messages on the machine. He likes to clear it all.
STORY A: He picked up the phone and he plays it on speaker.
STORY A: When he hits play, there's just static interference, like someone
STORY A: has a bad connection. I don't want to say as
STORY A: extreme as like TV static or something, but like it
STORY A: was kind of like rustling, and there was some crackling
STORY A: in the message, just like someone was trying to get
STORY A: through and Maybe they were like going into a bridge
STORY A: or something. You know.
STORY A: About ten seconds after the static, we heard the words.
STORY A: It was the distinct voice of my great grandmother.
STORY A: We all just kind of looked at each other and
STORY A: we're just kind of shocked and kind of in disbelief.
STORY A: Did we hear what we think we just heard? My
STORY A: granddad he was like, what was that? Did you hear
STORY A: what I heard? We actually played it back a few times,
STORY A: and sure enough, I love you it was her voice.
STORY A: From the look on everyone's face in the room, we
STORY A: all knew that it was her. It definitely sent a
STORY A: shiver down my spine when you let your mind go
STORY A: there that it could possibly be her. The static of
STORY A: it really gave you an uneasy feeling. It wasn't just
STORY A: I love you, It was a sound like something was
STORY A: struggling to like get that to come through. Twelve year
STORY A: old me was like, we're definitely going to try to
STORY A: call this number back. I grabbed the phone and hit
STORY A: re dial on the caller ID.
STORY A: Sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is
STORY A: no longer in service.
STORY A: typical like robot voice thing says that this is not
STORY A: a valid number. That just kind of blew my mind.
STORY A: I expected it to, you know, call someone or some thing,
STORY A: you know, like I didn't expect it to say that.
STORY A: It was just a repeat of basically the original call,
STORY A: just like wide eyes and staring at each other like.
STORY A: What just happened.
STORY A: I expected someone to pick up, some old lady to
STORY A: pick up that had their own number.
STORY A: That did not happen.
STORY A: I was very stunned to find out that it was
STORY A: not an actual number. Up until the very day of
STORY A: her passing, she still never even told my granddad that
STORY A: she loved him. I feel like she had regrets or
STORY A: she just needed to let him know that before moving on.
STORY A: It does provide another sense of comfort, especially for my
STORY A: granddad because that was his mom.
STORY A: I definitely feel like it was something he needed to hear.
STORY A: I feel like it gave my granddad closure and some comfort,
STORY A: just knowing that maybe she's okay, that she does definitely
STORY A: love him, even though he knows. But it's just a
STORY A: comforting feeling, even for me, so I know it has
STORY A: to be for him, you know. It definitely has changed
STORY A: my perspective. When you see a number pop up that
STORY A: you don't know, there's always someone on the other end
STORY A: trying to reach you for whatever reason. It does make
STORY A: you stop and think, because once it hangs up, you
STORY A: know that's it. You don't get a second chance. But
STORY A: if instead of it going to voicemail. If we had answered,
STORY A: could we have communicated back?
Therésa: Len? Corey's mama's ghost could be you tonight. I'm kidding obviously,
Therésa: don't tell you love her on the first date, but
Therésa: I'll admit you got me inspired. I made a ghosted profile.
Therésa: It's really hard to get a good picture.
Therésa: When I look around, all I've seen of other people
Therésa: are a lot of ethereal blobs and what looks like
Therésa: water damage. Ooh, this guy seems fun. He's a wraith. Okay,
Therésa: bad boy perpetually twenty eight worst fad I ever participated
Therésa: in tuberculosis. He's funny. Ooh, this one's a voice note.
Len: (MUMBLES)
Therésa: Okay, Okay, I'm convinced that (GROWL)
Therésa: hmm, guttural. I'm swiping right, Anyway. Dating is a numbers game.
Therésa: It's all about racking up matches and seeing what sticks. Naomi,
Therésa: have you met anyone on here a nice incubus to
Therésa: settle down with maybe?
Therésa: Well, I don't know what you're into? Alright, While I
Therésa: survey the goods. Meet Kim, Who's haunted farmhouse became something
Therésa: of a daycare when a friendly spirit decided to play babysitter.
STORY B: On this one particular day. It was a cold February morning.
STORY B: It was just me and the babies in the house.
STORY B: When they woke up, they were hysterical, inconsolable. I could
STORY B: hear them screaming and crying from the kitchen, and then
STORY B: all of a sudden, they stopped crying. In all of
STORY B: this confusion, I had forgotten to turn the monitor on.
STORY B: When I turned it on, I heard something. Someone's in
STORY B: the house and I have no idea who this is.
STORY B: It's scary and I don't know what to do. My
STORY B: name is Kim, and there was something in the house
STORY B: with me. Back in the seventies, my family moved into
STORY B: this old farmhouse. It was on a hill, white with
STORY B: black shutters and a porch that went the entire length
STORY B: of the front of the home and the side of
STORY B: the home, with a large living room and seven bedrooms,
STORY B: four on the second floor and three on the third floor.
STORY B: When you come up the street, that's the first house
STORY B: that you would see, and I think it was one
STORY B: of the original farmhouses for that area of Bucks County, Pennsylvania.
STORY B: My mother found records and she talked to the previous owners.
STORY B: They lived there from the forties the fifties the sixties
STORY B: until we get this in the seventies. They said the
STORY B: farmhouse was built in nineteen hundred and then in about
STORY B: nineteen thirties it was taken over by a woman named
STORY B: missus Dagandesh. She was an old, heavyset woman and I
STORY B: think she was German. She started a boarding house for
STORY B: nuns and single ladies and whomever for a brand new
STORY B: high school that was being built in Southampton. When we
STORY B: moved in in the seventies, my father put an addition
STORY B: on the back of the house. He put a rec room,
STORY B: another set of stairs, another bedroom, and a big bathroom.
STORY B: So it was a big and beautiful old house. from
STORY B: the moment we moved into that house, From the very
STORY B: first night, I would hear footsteps. If I was in
STORY B: my room, I would hear footsteps, and I would look
STORY B: down the hall and there would be no one there.
STORY B: It wasn't every night, but it was consistent, and you
STORY B: just knew that it wasn't a brother or sister because
STORY B: they wouldn't head down that part of the hallway. And
STORY B: it was never in the new part of the house.
STORY B: It was always in the old part of the house.
STORY B: It was creepy as hell. When me and my sisters used
STORY B: to sneak in late at night, we always thought it
STORY B: was either our mother or our father finding out that
STORY B: we were sneaking in late at night. And you would
STORY B: turn around and there would be nothing there. Or I
STORY B: would walk up the long stairway and there's footsteps behind me,
STORY B: but I'm alone. Usually I would hear these footsteps on
STORY B: the way to this back room that we called the
STORY B: Agnes of God room. My mother named the room the Agnes
STORY B: of God room. That was from an awful movie with Jane
STORY B: Fonda about a nun who murdered a baby. It was
STORY B: creepy and weird. So this particular hallway to the right
STORY B: was the Agnes of God room. To the left of that
STORY B: was the nursery, and then another room, and the Agnes
STORY B: of God Room is the room that missus Dagandash apparently
STORY B: died in. I was always too scared walking down the
STORY B: hallway towards the Agnes of God room, because as soon as
STORY B: you hit the landing, I hear footsteps. I turn around
STORY B: and there's no one there. It was a heavy footstep,
STORY B: it was a good sturdy shoe. They were just footsteps.
STORY B: When I told my mother this story of Missus Dagandash
STORY B: and the footsteps. She said, you don't need to be
STORY B: scared here, because we're always safe with me. My mother
STORY B: called herself a strega, which an Italian means witch. She
STORY B: was named that through a woman from South Philadelphia who
STORY B: sat on the corner, who all the children were very,
STORY B: very frightened of, who was also a strega. When this
STORY B: woman passed, she gave this kit to my mother. It
STORY B: was a hollowed out wooden, beautiful carved crucifix maybe a
STORY B: foot tall, and inside was special oil, holy water, and sage.
STORY B: That kit stayed underneath her bed for as long as
STORY B: I can remember. I was always too scared to even
STORY B: open it up. But that is what kept her from
STORY B: being so frightened of anything in the house, because she
STORY B: had the kit, and she was convinced that Missus Dagandash
STORY B: or whatever they were good spirits, that they would not
STORY B: harm us. So flash forward to when I have a
STORY B: beautiful set of twin babies, and it was a lot
STORY B: to take care of. The apartment that my husband and
STORY B: I lived in would not allow children, so we moved
STORY B: back in with my family. It was always a very
STORY B: busy household with kids and sisters and siblings and aunts
STORY B: and uncles and grandparents and everything else. This one particular
STORY B: day was just me and the babies in the house.
STORY B: And these babies didn't sleep a wink the night before.
STORY B: They were both sleeping in the same crib at the time.
STORY B: When I got them up in the morning, they were hysterical, inconsolable.
STORY B: The blankets were in the corner of their crib. I
STORY B: took them out of bed. I was trying to console them.
STORY B: Are they hungry? Are they sick? Do they need a doctor?
STORY B: I'm frightened. I'm not usually by myself. I usually have
STORY B: people here to help me. There was nothing I could
STORY B: do to make these babies happy. I'm scared, and I
STORY B: don't know where to turn. So I put them both
STORY B: down in their crib and ran downstairs to get them
STORY B: a bottle and some medicine because they are clearly not
STORY B: feeling well. I could hear them screaming and crying the
STORY B: whole time as I ran down the hallway into the kitchen.
STORY B: Then all of a sudden, they stopped crying, but I
STORY B: heard something. I ran to get the monitor, and when
STORY B: I turned it on, I hear humming and then singing.
STORY B: But I am home alone, but I could hear a lullaby.
STORY B: A woman is singing a lullaby to my babies. And
STORY B: I have no idea who this is. It was an
STORY B: old German lullaby. I stopped dead in my tracks. I
STORY B: dropped the bottle and I stood still for a moment.
STORY B: I didn't move. It didn't make any sense. There was
STORY B: no one home who could be singing to my babies.
STORY B: There's no radio in there, there's no television in there.
STORY B: There's no one else home who could be singing. And
STORY B: then reality strikes. I flew up the stairs two at
STORY B: a time, ran down the hallway, ran into the room
STORY B: as fast as I could. When I get back to them,
STORY B: my two babies, beautiful babies, are sleeping soundly. They are safe,
STORY B: with blankets over them, without a care in the world.
STORY B: There is no one there. They had blankets over them.
STORY B: I can't even tell you how that happened. There was
STORY B: blankets in the crib, but they certainly weren't on them
STORY B: when I went down, because they were kicking and screaming
STORY B: and crying, so someone or something had pulled the blankets
STORY B: over them. It felt surreal. I'm looking at two babies
STORY B: who are calm and sleeping, and I remember feeling relief
STORY B: and thankful, but not understanding who was singing and who
STORY B: covered them up. It's scary and it's wonderful all in
STORY B: the same moment. I feel like I want to say
STORY B: thank you to missus Dagandash, because she put these babies
STORY B: to sleep. And there were many nights after that that
STORY B: I said to her, Missus Dagandash, where the hell are you?
STORY B: I could use you today.
Therésa: If I could sing, I'd be on every baby monitor
Therésa: in America. And I get that this story is unsettling,
Therésa: dead non disembodied voice, the general weirdness of twins, but
Therésa: other than a visit from a beloved dead relative, this
Therésa: is best case scenario paranormal encounter. Actually, both of today's
Therésa: stories were kind of feel good. Between that, Len's date,
Therésa: my six new matches seven if you count the couple,
Therésa: I'd say it's been a pretty good day at Haunting HQ.
Therésa: And look at that Len decided to rezip his shorts
Therésa: into pants After all.
Len: (GRUMBLES)
Therésa: You need help. Len, I'm not touching your knees. Are
Therésa: you insane? Don't start, Naomi. It's basically Gray area workplace harassment. Well,
Therésa: it's been an almost good day. I'm gonna figure out
Therésa: if we have an HR department here, But you guys
Therésa: know the drill. If you've got a supernatural experience you'd
Therésa: like to share with us, email Len at HauntingThePodcast@gmail.com and
Therésa: your story could be featured in one of our upcoming episodes. Now,
Therésa: everyone wish Len good luck on his date and tune
Therésa: in next week for the dirty deets because on this pod,
Therésa: we haunt, we hoe, we kiss, we tell love you all.
Credits: If you have a haunting story to share, please email
Credits: us at HauntingThePodcast@gmail.com. Haunting is a production of Glass Podcast
Credits: in partnership with iHeart Podcast. Haunting was created and executive produced
Credits: by Nancy Glass and Andrea Gunning, Ben Fetterman, and Lauren Lapkus.
Credits: It is hosted by Lauren Lapkus as her character Therésa.
Credits: Haunting is directed by Aleah Welsh and produced by Trey Morgan.
Credits: It is written by Aleah Welsh, with additional writing by
Credits: Nancy Glass, Trey Morgan, Ben Fetterman, and Kristin Melchiorre. Additional
Credits: production support by Todd Ganz. Additional voice acting by Trey
Credits: Morgan as the character producer Len Walker. Editing and sound
Credits: designed by Matt Delvecchio with additional editing by Nico Arouca.
Credits: Mixed and mastered by Dave Saia. Operations, and production support
Credits: by Kristin Melchiorre. Haunting's theme and original compositions were composed
Credits: by Oliver Baines and Dorry Macaulay of Noiser. Music Library
Credits: provided by Mibe Music. Special thanks to Speakeasy Sound Studios
Credits: in Burbank, California. Follow us on social media by searching
Credits: for Glass Podcast or by visiting glasspodcasts.com . For more
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