This story has been around as long as there have been land line telephones, but it still gives me the shivers.
Seems there was a young family (mom, dad, and a boy about 7) who had just inherited a house out in the country. The only way in or out of their property was by a winding lane that skirted the edge of the graveyard. Now this particular night the parents were in a big hurry because they had to get to an awards banquet where the mom was receiving an award from the state. The babysitter was on her way, but time was running short and the parents decided their son would be safe by himself in the brief time he'd be alone.
Unable to wait any longer, the parents drove away in the face of big storm brewing, leaving the little boy alone for the first time in his life. Almost immediately a cold rain began to splatter against the house in big drops, and the wind increased to a howl. Suddenly a giant bolt of lightning ripped the skies apart and hit the big old oak tree down the lane from the boy's house -- falling into the graveyard and blocking the only way in or out by car. As the tree was falling, it took out the phone and power lines as well (remember, this took place before we all had cell phones and email). The lights went out and the house got dark and spooky and the poor little boy huddled alone under the kitchen table.
It was then that the phone rang. Overcoming his fear, the boy crawled over to the kitchen phone and answered. It was his grandpa! The boy began to relax instantly, and for the next three hours they chatted about baseball and fishing and all the sorts of things 7 year old boys and their grandpas chat about. Finally his grandpa said that he had to go, but that the boy was to be brave and that mom and dad would be home very soon.As the boy hung up, the front door burst open and in ran his mother and father. Where was the babysitter? She'd obviously been unable to drive past the fallen tree -- the road crew had only recently cleared the lane. She couldn't call because the phones and power were out.
But the phones couldn't be out. The boy had talked most of the night on the phone. Hadn't he?
The next morning the phone crew arrived to fix the downed line and when they moved enough of the old fallen oak tree to get to the line beneath it they noticed something very peculiar. The line was broken in the middle, and each end had been mashed into the soft soil of a grave. The grave of the young boy's grandfather.
