An old tin cup

My parents, Darlene and Bryan, spend their golden years volunteering for state parks all over the country. One of their favorite places is Berlin Ichthyosaur Park located in the Nevada outback. They archived artifacts there in the off-season, when they have the park to themselves.

Berlin, a short-lived mining community perched on an arid central Nevada mountain, was a bustling town from 1898 to 1911. Its three miles of tunnels produced $849,000 in gold when the mineral only fetched $20 an ounce (compared to $1,600 when I wrote this post). The town was never very big—only 200 or so lived there in its heyday.

Ghost Town of Berlin, Nevada

While cataloging antiques in the Bachelor’s Cabin, my mother picked up an old gray tin cup. “Boy, if this could talk, it’d probably tell us a lot,” she told Dad as she turned it in her hands, and then set it back down.

For some reason, this fairly common cup stayed on Mom’s mind, despite working with dozens and dozens of relics.

Within a week of returning home, she awoke around 3 a.m. to the sound of two pairs of footsteps in their bedroom. Dad was next to her, so it wasn’t him. She assumed the noise to be burglars, so she got Dad up. He turned on the light and they checked the house, but found no one. The next night at 3 a.m., Mom heard the steps once again. She thought of the tin cup that she held in Berlin. With clarity, she believed the spirits pacing her bedroom floor had something to do with the cup.

This went on for a couple weeks, each night at the same time. Since the activity was predictable, she adapted to their nightly wanderings and didn’t think too much about it.

Apparently, the spirits preferred more attention.

The next night at the same time, Mom awakened to a surprise. Two men, both wearing long-sleeved, off-white shirts stood next to her. Startled, she shrieked. They vanished into the ether as Dad flipped on the lights.

Listening to spirits walking was one thing, but waking to see men staring at her was quite another. She didn’t care for this at all.

A few nights later, she was wakened. Again. Yep, 3 a.m. I imagine she felt trepidation as she opened her eyes. This time two bright white, round lights—one the size of a tennis ball, the other a little smaller floated in front of her face. She screamed, waking woke Dad, and the orbs disappeared.

As she recovered from her startle, she thought of the experience, the tin cup and the spirits. She concluded they were telling her goodbye.

The house has been quiet ever since.

Have you ever had a spirit follow you home?

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