There was a house on the Lake where my Mom grew up that belonged to friends of her family, the Meads. I didn't know them, but as their generation was all growing older, the family doesn't get up to the Lake house much any more. Our family has always made a point of checking on the house each season, just to make certain things were okay.

Usually it was just checking mousetraps, windows, doors, boathouse, making sure there were no squirrels in the house and nothing was disturbed.

It is a very old four story probably built in the 1930s, with a graduated square staircase in the middle of the house (so when you're at the top, you can look down all four floors through the middle to the area on the first floor).

One time I was on the fourth floor. I was probably 17 at the time. I found a dead mouse in a trap and was calling for help from my Mom, Aunt, Cousin...anyone who would come deal with this horrid thing. No one responded, so I went out to the stairway and called again. When I looked down, I swear I saw an older man, in period dress, smoking a pipe and staring up at me. I said "Hi" and waved, asked if he knew where my Mom was and he just shook his head. That was that.

I realized at that point, no one was coming to help me with the mouse, so I got a plastic bag, and through some skillful maneuvering and a few squeals, got the job done. When I headed downstairs and we were packing up to leave, I asked my Mom, Aunts and Cousin about the man. They looked at me like I was imagining things. Said they saw no-one. Great.

When I got back to my Aunt's, she teased me a little and when I refused to admit I was "seeing things", she pulled out an old photo of Mr. Mead. Yes, that was the man I saw.