![]() Once when I was three steps away they closed right in front of me. Things were pretty quiet for the next month or so, except for when I found the boardroom doors ajar. I don’t know what any of them would have done if I yelled, but it made me feel better knowing someone else was there. I started doing my downstairs tasks early, while some of the bartending staff were still around. The towel incident made me extra nervous for the next few weeks. I don’t know how anyone got in there, as the door was locked at all times and I’d been the only one in the building. A tingle went up my neck as though someone was watching me. Towels were hanging off tools and cupboards, the backs of chairs, and piled on the floor. At 8:30 a.m., I went back to the office to sign out. I went through the changing rooms, picked up a full bin of towels, and pushed the bin into the maintenance office. One night after everyone was gone I went to the locker rooms to pick up towels. There was a 300-foot-long sidewalk to the parking lot and there was no way the elderly man could have made it to the parking lot in a few seconds. Gerry followed him to make sure he’d left, but the man was gone. Gerry told him the building was closed for the day, and the man headed upstairs. Gerry, the weekend guy, told me he saw a man in the changing room wearing a very dated golf sweater and pants tucked into his socks. After about five minutes, I began to walk downstairs when I heard it again, except this time it was on the roof! I crept up the stairs, looking for the source of the sound. Those doors became an ongoing problem–every week or so, I’d walk by and they would be ajar.Ī month or so later, I heard the startling sound of marbles rolling across the floor directly above me at around 2:30 in the morning. I pulled the French doors shut again and went on with my business. It was cooler compared to the rest of the club house. It was a sparse room with only a large table and ten chairs. Now I thought someone was playing games with me, so I looked inside. I pulled them shut.Īfter tidying up the washrooms, I found the boardroom doors ajar again. These doors were always closed and I didn’t even have to clean in there. Then I noticed the boardroom doors were ajar. It certainly wasn’t running while I’d been in there. ![]() I had finished washing the kitchen an hour before, but hadn’t used the sink. I opened the kitchen door to see the sink’s taps were on. It must have been a six-foot drop to the sidewalk below. I knew then it hadn’t been anything outside.Ī month went by. One night I heard water running in the kitchen. Maybe I was seeing something outside and only thought it was inside? I put my hands on the window to shield it from the light and peered outside. Jumping out of my chair, I ran to where I saw the man, but again, no one was there. This time the figure walked in the opposite direction. The front door was still locked, so I thought I’d just imagined it.Ī half hour later, I saw it again. I quickly checked to see if anyone was there, but I was alone. After a few minutes, I noticed the reflection of someone standing behind me in the windows. The TV was against the windows that looked over the ninth green. One night after the bar staff had left, I sat down for a coffee break, hoping to catch a few minutes of a movie on TV. I was 17 years old and gullible–or they thought I was. The food-prep lady and the bartender asked me if I’d seen any ghosts, but I figured they were just trying to spook me. ![]() My new job involved cleaning the golf club from 1 a.m. “You’re not afraid of ghosts, are ya?” The man laughed. This is exactly what I was looking for after months of job hunting. The sign taped to the clubhouse door said HELP WANTED! APPLY WITHIN. ![]() This is the first time he’s told his story. Meet Gordon, who had several spooky encounters with a ghost when he was working at a golf club in the 1970s. ![]()
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