So in 2013 I had a first cousin who’s grandmother lived in my home town. He and his family lived about two hours away in Tennessee. I live in a small Southwest Virginia town, most of my family still lives in the area. This cousin’s grandmother passed away in late June of 2013 and the typical things had to be taken care of. Funeral prep, deciding what to do with her belongings, and of course will the house be kept or sold?
My uncle, who’s mother was the one who died, was an only child so he inherited everything. I remember going to the house during that summer and helping them organize and categorize roughly 55 years of “stuff”. Finally, by mid July we had sold everything they weren’t keeping and they had decided to sell the house to a distant aunt who wasn’t related to me. As the summer dragged on my aunt and uncle would keep the house mowed and cleaned up. By the time August rolled around it was almost ready to sell with the exception of a few boxes in the garage and back bedroom.
In the middle of August, my cousin came to collect the last of the boxes and asked if I wanted to meet him and help him move them to his car. I agreed to meet him after work at the house. I arrived around 4 pm and it was still very bright outside from the sun, but a storm had been threatening to roll in for most of the day. We started loading up boxes from the garage when the storm finally set in. Sky got black and torrential rain started fast and hard. We were in the garage when suddenly we heard a loud BANG! against the garage window. Turned out a crow had hit it and was flopping around on the ground. I took a shovel and threw it over the hill behind the garage.
No sooner had I done this, than another bird smacked into the window. Took the shovel, disposed of that bird. After about 30 minutes the rain started to let up. We loaded the boxes and ran to the house. This house had a screened in wrap around porch, and so we mad our away via the porch to the back of the house. as we approached we heard the phone inside ring a good 4 or 5 times. Now this wasn’t scary due to the house still having power and the phone line must’ve still been active. My cousin seemed to think this was either a telemarketer or someone in the community who was unaware of is grandmother’s passing.
So we didn’t really freak out over the phone ringing. We made our way inside and got the boxes in we came for and as we made our way through the kitchen into the living room to the front door. The phone rang again. Coming from the living room. My cousin was like “I’ll just answer it” as we walked to the living room. Right as we entered the phone stopped ringing. Now this is the part I can’t explain. Not only was the only phone in the house in the living room, it was an older early digital wall phone. As we entered the living room, the phone quit ringing. What took a second to register was that the phone was sitting on a table in the middle of the room not connected to anything at all. To this day I can’t explain what happened and this is the closest thing to a paranormal experience I’ve ever had. What would have happened had one of us answered that phone?