Part II: Another Story in the "Spirit" of Halloween

Why my dad believes in ghosts:

My dad enlisted and served with one of his best friends, a guy named Richard Tung. My dad now believes that Mr. Tung was some kind of medium. Read these stories and decide for yourself.

Both my dad and Tung were sent to basic flight training at Randolph, Texas. They couldn't get a nonstop flight to Texas, and since they were recruits, they had to wait a long time between connecting flights.

While waiting in the terminal of some sleepy airbase in New Mexico, Tung suddenly nudged my dad and pointed.

"Gwai," he said (Gwai is the Chinese word for ghost).

My dad looked where Tung was pointing and saw what looked like a wisp of smoke drifting across the room, except this wisp had a face and was wearing a very old fashioned dress.

After the war, Tung rented an old 2 story house in San Francisco. My dad helped him move in.

The first thing they heard upon entering the house on moving day was the sound of water running. It was coming from the upstairs bathroom.

Tung went upstairs, opened the bathroom door and shut off the water. Then he and my dad went outside to get more stuff to bring into the house.

When they returned, the water was running again.

Tung went upstairs and found the bathroom door closed.

He opened the door, shut off the water, and came back downstairs.

As he waited, my dad went into the kitchen, unpacked a glass and got himself some tap water.

Tung came into the kitchen and told my dad what happened. They looked at each other, shrugged, then went outside to get some more boxes.

When they returned, the water was running again.

This time, they both went upstairs. They found the bathroom door closed again.

They opened the door and shut off the water.

As they walked down the stairs, the bathroom door slammed shut. Seconds later, the water started running again.

Both men ran back upstairs. They opened the bathroom door, shut off the water, then searched the upstairs rooms for an open window or something else that might have caused a draft strong enough to close the door. They found nothing.

They went downstairs and started to go back outside, but as they passed the kitchen, Tung stopped.

"Let's get the h&*% out of here," he said, pointing.

My dad's glass had been put back into the box.