Haunted cars ......from the grave to life.

Ok guys this one will top anything on this thread. I told a story of my first car, a 55 Chevy project, here back on this thread in 2011. It came from a sordid past and I bought it when I was 13. The man I bought it from didn't want me to have it but after I pestered him for weeks he reluctantly gave in. I was thrilled. I ended up having nightmares when I got it and one night I was working on it after school in a pitch black shop other than a droplight and extension cord. Both doors slammed so hard at the same time I thought the glass would have broken out, cutting the cord and trapping a then 14 year old me inside. There were no door handles and it was pitch black. I thought I heard breathing and felt like someome was inside with me. I finally fumbled for some pliers and got the hell out. The next day I put the car in the paper. Nobody ever liked this car and didnt want to be around it. I came home from school a few days later and my mother told me that a guy named Jesus called me and asked that I call back. I remember his name because my mother pronounced it like gee-zus and I thought that was odd. He came and handed over $500 and hauled the car home to Emporia Ks. Later on when I was 16, I got a job at an amaco stationin emporia. I went down a backstreet leaving one day and saw the guys truck in the driveway. I looked up to the garage and saw it sitting in there and got chills all over. I saw it from time to time when the door was open, then when I was 18 I moved to Ga. I always talked about the car, told my buddies and wife about my haunted first car. Posted about it here in 2011 even.....There is a lot more to the stories but it would take forever.

Fast forward to Febuary 2018. I am on my way home from work and hear my phone ding with a facebook message. I pick it up and see someone had said "I bought a 55 Chevy". I figure its one of my buddies. When I stop I open the message. It is from a guy named Jesus from emporia Kansas. My heart jumped. How did he remember me all those years? My name? I asked if he meant the one he bought from me. He says "Yes my cousin has it here in town". He asks if I work on them still. I said yes and show him a pic of my green car, then inquire if the 55 is able to be bought or where exactly it is. He would never reply again.

I had about 6 months earlier been trying to find my 2nd 55 I had, and got in touch with a guy in Emporia that had owned it at one time. We became facebook friends while he was helping me. I made a post about the weird message about my 1st car, so he contacts me asking if it was the one I was hunting, my 2nd one.. I explain that it is my 1st one, and the weird message. He says he has an idea where it possibly could be and he would check it out for me. He also tells me that Jesus' cousin, who he told me has it, has been dead for years.... Well my friend Jason, who was helping me on that end, does some footwork and a couple weeks later says he saw a car under a tarp behind the father of the deceased cousins house. The father is in a wheelchair and in bad shape. I tell him to look at the wheelwells because they were cut up high, squared on top kinda like homemade nomad wheelwells. The next Saturday I get the pics below. Under a tarp in the old mans backyard is my 1st car. The haunted 55. It hasnt been touched since I sold it at 14 years old, around 1992... The parts are still loaded in the car where I left them. NOTHING has been changed from that day. I was shaking so bad from seeing it again, and the excitement, I couldn't type. Jason says if you want it, its $1600. I have my wife type back to him to buy it.

As of now it is at his shop and I have to go get her. She has been waiting on me find her and bring her back to me all these years. My wife isn't happy about it and my friends ask why the hell I would want it back. I don't know honestly. I just tell them because its mine. There are TONS of other weird creepy things and coincidences that happened throughout this process but it would be a book. I plan on going and getting it this month sometime.

 

Have the body and frame acid dipped..... That should kill any ghouls in there.....

 

Would like to hear more of your other experiences.

 

Nothing "haunted" about these 2 stories, just kind of weird.
When I was a kid, I had a friend next door. His father (Paul) was an engineer and had gone to college before WWII. The college football team played a rival college every Thanksgiving like the Harvard/Yale game. The game in '40 gets played, somebody wins, somebody loses, and a riot breaks out. Someone throws a rock through Paul's Model A windshield.
WWII breaks out, Paul enlists in the Army and is in Europe for the duration of the war. The war ends, Paul is on a train heading home across Europe and ends up sitting next to a soldier who had attended the rival college before the war. They get to talking about the '40 game and ensuing riot gets mentioned. Paul says "Yeah, and somebody threw a rock through my Model A windshield." The other guy says, " Yeah, and that was me."
Back in '86 I bought a nice low mileage 2-year-old Toyota 4X4. Closest thing to brand new I've ever owned before or since. One day, a week after I bought it, I pulled into a parking lot for a glass company to order a new windshield for my Triumph TR4. The parking lot was big enough for about 20 cars and except for my truck, was completely empty. I simply pulled in and covered 3 marked spaces away from the building. No biggie, plenty of spaces for whoever else might pull in and I knew I'd probably be there only 10 minutes. I walk to the entrance door, look back at my truck and think "Why don't I just move it and park it correctly?" So I did, just backed it across the lot and into a space. I walk inside and start talking to the guy at the counter and we hear this HUGE crash outside. A loaded 10-wheel dump truck and really big trash truck had a glancing head-on and the trash truck ended up sliding across the parking lot exactly where I'd been parked a half minute before. The Toyota and I became buddies that day, never once let me down for the next 250,000 miles. Oil changes, brake pads, a couple of water pumps, batteries, exhaust systems, light bulbs, wiper blades, tires and that's it. Still had the original clutch. Damn.

 

I owned a Chevrolet once.

 

Bump for the 2020 Ghostly Hallow Season.
Lets here some more Bone Chilling Ghost Car/Shop Stories.
Gotta be more out there, let her rip.

 

Hey all it be the Halloween Season.
Just took out ole Fargolena for a cold cruise. Its freakin cold out at below freezing like -2 celsius or 30f.
Okay took a pic outside the Mental Asylum, " no I don't live there".
In this particular section of the Hospital was housed a very Psychotic Killer.
Some years back he killed a young man on a Greyhound Bus. He severed this poor guys head off and was cannibalizing him when the Police arrived.
This old asylum is reputed to be haunted.
It sure was inhabited by the most gruesome killer this area ever had.
Happy Halloween

 

There's some cool/creepy stories on here! Love it...especially with the time of year it is.

 

Not car related but when I was young, the whole family was up later than normal watching a movie. The Watcher In The Woods. A Disney movie. There was a scene in the cemetery and the mood was getting intense. Suddenly, our grandfather clock struck 1. Normally that wouldn't be a big deal except the clock was broken. It had not rung for years prior and hasn't rang since. Needless to say, all the hair on the back of our necks stood up. This was before we had a remote control. Everyone was on edge and nobody wanted to go near the TV to turn it off.

 

While in high school back in the 60s my DD was a 1962 Chevy 1/2 short bed pick up, 6 cylinder 3 speed. After a few months of beating the crap out of it it was in need of a new engine. My buddy and I went to the junkyard in search of the newest with the lowest mileage and it had to be a V-8. Told the guy at the front desk what I wanted and he directed me to a Cadillac ambulance, it was like a high roof station wagon. Very low miles, accident due to being t-bone by a dump truck. 200 bucks for the engine, trans, and driveshaft. Pull the nose off of my truck, painted up the front frame, firewall, inner fenders and installed the Cadillac drive-train. My Pop didn't want the 6 cylinder, 3 speed sitting around the house so we took it to the same junkyard, while there we got the exhaust system off of the Caddy. Drove the truck to school where we pull the truck into the shop (Auto shop) just to show off what kind of big shots hot rod guy we were. The Auto Shop teacher look everything over, made a few changes or told us to make some changes and then told the entire class that this engine came out of the ambulance that got t-bone by the dump truck and the guy being taken to the hospital along with the medical attendant were killed. The driver of the ambulance was pretty beat up also. I did not experience any odd things happenings to me or the truck expect for no-one wanted to park next to me. I finally gave the truck to my Pop, who made a big joke about the vehicle. But I will have to say, that motor did look good in that truck.

 

Keep em comin good stories...

 

My Grandfather joined the Searsport Fire Department in 1941, around the same time that they bought a brand new 1941 Chevy fire truck. It was his favorite truck, and he drove it to fires and in the local Fourth of July parade for years. He retired Fourth of July 1991 and was the Grand Marshal in the parade, riding in the back seat of a convertible with my Grandmother and the Chevy right behind them. He passed away the following March, and the truck was parked in front of the church for his funeral. The fire department was going to blow the fire station whistle at 6:00, but oddly enough, it wouldn't work. It worked the day before and the day after, though.

 

Ok, this isn't much but it sure unsettled me and still does when I think about it. I have never been a religious guy but this one gets me... Me and a few High School friends were hanging out at the Middle School parking lot, I think after a band concert or something. I was a jerk and was sort of picking on another guy who had a 62-65 Falcon 4 door. He had put a glasspack on it and air shocks. I thought I was hot stuff with my '65 Cutlass and thought his 6 cyl. 4 door Falcon was a POS. (I would love to have one like it now...) Anyway, I really was a ass hole and I jumped (sitting) up on the trunk and said something about his Jacked up POS. He was in the car and it was running. When he saw me jump up on the rear of the car, he floored the car and I slid back on my ass to the very edge of the trunk lid and stuck there. I was terrified that I would come off the car, land on my ass, roll and hit my head on the concrete and be seriously injured. It seemed to me that I was stuck to the car by only my jeans! I remember it as my arms and legs were off the edge of the car! Well somehow I never fell off the back and he stopped and I got off. Who saved me that night?? The only thing I can logically figure is maybe there was a chrome emblem that my jeans caught on??

 

Someone was looking out 4 U

 

I have a haunted set of spats (rear wheel well covers) for my '60 GM Holden sedan. They were on the car when I bought it. Took the car for it's first long distance run, and blew a tyre at highway speed. Tyre threw the spat off the car, and into the roadside drain. Stopped the car, replaced the tyre, and retrieved the dented and bashed spat.

Had a local guy repair and repaint the spat for me. He layed down the colour, and had the spat sitting on a panel stand outdoors to dry. The wind picked up, and blew the spat into the side of a nearby '63 Holden panel delivery vehicle... his own freshly painted car. Spat needed repainting, as did the panel delivery.

Got the twice-painted spat home, and hung it up in the garage waiting for time to put it back on the sedan. I inadvertantly put the spat under some old brake lines that had been hanging on the wall for around 5 years. The lines had not leaked or dripped any fluid... until I put the spats under them. Three big dollops of brake fluid, right into the middle of the new paint.

The spats are still in the garage, in the naughty corner. I'm too frightened to repaint them and put them back onto the car. Very Christine.

Cheers,
Harv

 

Spats? Maybe it needs a Top Hat too.....lol
Good story..

 

Maybe you clenched so hard you drew a vacuum?

 

The closest thing I have to a ghost story is more like a car with a mind of it's own story.Kinda like "CHRISTINE", only not evil.
It was years ago, I had chevy k20 truck. The e brake was not reliable, so I always stuck it in first gear when it was parked. I drove it daily for years until I purchased a newer ot daily driver, at this point, I parked the K20 in the woods on the back 40.
Fast forward about a year, and after some car trouble and a hot battery I was back in the k20. I drove it for a few months while repairing the ot daily driver. My ot ride gets fixed and all of the bugs worked out, so no more need for the k20.
One day I decide to park it back in the woods again. I get in it and try to start it. I turn the key, but nothing happens. No power. I went to get a booster for it, when I get a safe distance away the starter begins to growl and 5,4,3,2,1 we have liftoff ! So this unmanned tank takes off across the field. All the while no one is close enough to shut it off. Down the hill it goes headed for the closest tree. !#$CRASH$#@!!!! Complete suicide. I have come to the conclusion that it was jealous of its replacement, and didnt want to wait, parked in the back 40, for its next rendezvous . JEALOUSY KILLS!

 

Only kind of strange/spooky story I can think of was this one time when I was little, I was out waiting at the end of the driveway for the School Bus to pick me up. A slow moving farm truck came driving down the road. To this day I could swear I saw a red Chevy Impala convertible come up behind it and go to pass.....then just vanish. It never came out from the other side of the truck as it passed. This is on a two lane county road that runs in front of our house. No other drives or places to turn off. I can still see the convertible clear as day.

 

Not so much spooky, but a strong contender for unexplainable...

My family had a green '70 Ford Galaxie (bought from the San Francisco Airport Hertz rent-a-car location when it was a half-year old). In the middle of the night (and only in the middle of the night) the horn of the car, parked in our attached garage, would start blaring ceaselessly. My dad would get out of bed and have to unhook the battery to get it to stop as pressing the horn button, etc made no difference. He had it looked at by a mechanic atleast once and nothing could be found wrong. My dad had to get up more than few times to unhook the battery. He'd hook the battery back up in the morning to drive to work, everything would behave normally... until the next random night the horn would decide to go off.

 

Must have been a Ford thing. My 73 truck did the same thing.

 

Last Halloween I was out driving my hot rod on isolated stretch of route 666. About sunset I noticed a car coming up fast behind me. It got right on my ass so I picked it up a bit. Stayed right with me. I gave it all I had thinking that I’m going to end this right now. I saw a flash of light from the flames coming out of his pipes and he shot by me. Even with the open exhaust of the two balls out motors I swear I heard a blood curdling scream as he passed by. Then he disappeared into the woods down a dirt road I didn’t even know existed. Luckily I was able to snap this shot in my side view mirror.





yep, Bigfoot. I’m a believer......sorry @rusty rocket
I’m just Joking and I really dig that picture and the car too.

 

Hello,

In one of our Halloween drives, we were invited to go to a party in the Crenshaw area of Los Angeles. Back then, it was a relatively safe place to live and grow up. As we were leaving the house, it started to get foggy and we did not want to go on the freeway, so we decided to drive south on La Brea. I knew that La Brea turns into Hawthorne Blvd and then crosses Rosecrans that heads East toward Long Beach. No freeway for us on this cold, foggy late night.

By the time we got to the La Brea Oil Derricks area, it was totally fogged in and it was a slow crawl as the wipers were going fast. Sometimes, we had to roll down the windows to get a better view of distances to the parked cars or headlights heading our way. As dark and foggy created a perfect scenario for scary stories, one of the girls mentioned a story that we all laughed in this slow crawl of a drive through the fog.

When it was my time to tell a story, it was the one escaped criminal from a mental hospital story, throw in some vampire ethics and it got interesting fast. As the Impala crept forward in the fog, I had my hand outside to wipe off the rear view mirror. So, when the perfect time in the story about how the vampire/mental hospital/criminal escaped and was causing terror all over Los Angeles, scared the girls, I even had goose bumps telling the story.


Jnaki

All of a sudden, the fog started to swirl into the open windows and the girls were telling us to roll up the windows to keep whatever, out. I kept telling of the gristly stuff this escapee did to everyone. (Standard TV horror story stuff.) Now, everyone was a little shaky and looking outside into the fog. What I did next scared the crap out of everyone, including me. I hit the roof of the Impala with my hand causing a sound like someone jumped down on top and the screaming started to no end. The girls, of course scrunched up (nice) to the he-man boys and we all looked all around the windows. It was both scary and hilarious… then I started laughing.

Needless to say, I got punched in the arm several times and in the back of the head from the rear seat occupants. One girl even used her creepy spider fingers to reach the top of my head, as if the “whatever” guy on the roof was grabbing my head. It was one teenage hilarious event on a cold, foggy night on the way home from Los Angeles. The 58 Impala made it home in a record, “slowest time ever” from Los Angeles. But, at least, we were all safe and sound. Explaining to the parents for the real late night adventure was ok, as their daughters were safe and sound.

 

Awesome tales guys. Always remember "Never let the FACTS get in the way of a good story!"

 

Too bad he didn't think to just unplug the horn.

 

Really? So my dad isn't/wasn't a mechanic. Feel superior now? Kee-ripes

 

It was the summer of 79. I had just moved into an old farmhouse about 10 miles out of town. I was on the lawn tractor, mowing the huge yard. Out of nowhere, I get a clear vision of a carload of friends pulling up to an intersection in town. They were trying to decide where to go. If they went left, they would go one place and if they took a right, they would come out to my place. Well, they went right and my vision faded. To me, it was obvious that I was going to have company so I went in and made up a huge batch of vodka and lemonade. Grabbed some solo cups and set up a table and chairs on the front porch. They pulled up shortly after. I told them about the vision and at first they all said bullshit but all agreed that was exactly what happened. True story and I have witnesses.

 

I bet your dad wishes he would've thought of it too, or been told about it. Think of all the sleep he lost.

 

Back in 1972 my Dad sold cars at Story Olds. He had a 73 Olds 88 as a demo. Once on a very cold nite the horn started in the driveway. We all were awoken in the house. Dad and I went out and hammered on the horn button and it quit. It was extremely cold that night- like 10 below zero. About a hour later it went off again and we couldn't get it to quit. Dad didn't know much and neither did I. He cut the positive cable with a hacksaw as we couldn't remove the "new fangled" side posts. Next day the dealership had to send a wrecker to get the new Olds. I'll bet the extreme cold weather somehow made the horn relay activate and stick. It woke up the whole block- was the talk of the neighborhood for a week or so.

 

Must be that time of year again....