Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 5, 7/7 by Estelle Roberts

I was asked to investigate at a house whose occupants were suffering physical violence at the hands of an earthbound spirit entity. The attacks always followed a similar pattern. Every now and then one of the residents using the staircase would be pitched down the steps. This was not only disconcerting but dangerous.

When I arrived at the house, I stood at the bottom of the staircase and looked up. There, half-way up, was the spirit figure of a grizzled old man who came directly to the point.
“If you come up here, I’ll push you down again,” he said.

“I don’t think you will,” I replied. “I’m coming up and if you are sensible you’ll go up too. We’ll talk things over when we get to the top.”
“I’m staying here,” he answered, flatly.
“Very well. If you want to give battle, I’m ready.”

My words sounded bold, and were so intended. You must never show fear when dealing with an evil entity or even a fractious one.
I went up the stairs towards him . . . he stood his ground. As I came within his reach he put out his hand. Instead of pushing me backwards, as I expected, he wrenched at the string of beads I wore and scattered them in all directions.

“What’s happening? Your necklace is broken,” the watchers at the foot of the staircase exclaimed.
“It’s all right,” I reassured them. “No harm has been done.” I went on mounting the stairs while the old man retreated before me. At the top I stopped and said: “Tell me what is the trouble? Perhaps I can help you.”

“This is my house,” he replied. “And that man down there has robbed me of it.”
“Has he? How did he manage to do that?”
“Well, it wasn’t him really. It was his father before him. The old man cheated me of the place and I mean to get it back.”

“Can you prove any of this?” I asked.
“I can. The papers are in a parcel on a shelf in the cellar, just where the thieving old devil hid them. They’re all there. You won’t want other proof.”

With the owner of the house, I descended to the cellar. There, high up on one wall, was a rough bracket shelf. On it we found a parcel, thickly coated with coal dust. We took it down and removed the grime. Then we carried it back upstairs. We cut the string. Inside was a jumble of papers, just as the old man had prophesied.

Subsequent examination proved that the old man had been cheated of his property. It was then that the present owner behaved so magnificently. Without more ado he transferred the deeds of the property to the surviving members of the old man’s family. This altruistic action ended the reign of the irascible spirit intruder whose presence on the staircase had become a menace to everyone in the house.