A number of years ago after my husband and I were first married we went on the mission of buying our first home. We found a nice ranch on the NW side of Milwaukee and it was in our price range so we signed the papers.
We were very excited and we moved in quickly. I get up early in the morning so my husband was always the one to lock up at night. During the first two weeks of our residence, when I would get up to go to work, the door to the attached garage was wide open. I mentioned it to my husband Lew and he said that he was closing it. It continued and so did my accusations that he wasn’t closing the door. Finally, with no other solution, one night both of us decided to address the situation and together we stood in the living room and said out loud “Don’t worry, we will take really good care of your home”.
The next morning the door was shut.
Fast forward a number of months later. We were sleeping and I had a nightmare that something had happened to my father. I awoke to find a man standing at the end of the bed. I closed my eyes and shook my head and then re-opened my eyes. He was still there. He stood there and shook his head “no”. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
A short time later we attended our neighborhood block party. I was telling my neighbors of my experience and then described the man that I had seen. (I can still see and describe him today) My neighbors were dumbfounded and finally one woman said to me “That sounds like the guy(name withheld) who built the house. You know he committed suicide by sitting in his car in the garage.” YIKES
Lew and I lived in the house for a few years and never had any issues except for the occasional smell of cigars (we don’t smoke cigars).