Throughout childhood, my family moved several times, living in apartments, with family members and several different houses. One of these houses was quite historical and was said to have been part of the Southern Ohio leg of the Underground Railroad. The house was probably, at one time, a true gem: It had great hardwood floors, high ceilings and large rooms; one of the more unique features included several sets of incredibly tall closets with big wooden doors. The basement was made of creek rock and stayed cold, damp and a bit muddy through out the years, yet was probably once used to store homemade canned goods and other perishables.
My family rented this house, and the owner apparently had no desire to keep up the property. The house was actually quite dilapidated and creepy. The huge steps leading to the weather beaten, wooden front door were sliding off the base and I often feared the columns on the porch would fall and we would not be able to get through the front door. The kitchen and bathroom, as well as a small spare room were added on to the rear of this house at some point in time and were not at all congruent with the rest of the interior. Often I would be frightened of the creeks and cracks I heard at night; when it rained, the metal roof over the vacant attic was terribly loud.
As an adult I think back about the house on Jett Hill Road and see how similar the house itself was to the atmosphere and circumstance surrounding the residents. Ours was a unit that was disintegrating just like this great old house. The difference being our 'family'� was never as great nor sturdy as this house, which had withstood over 250 years of weather and a shifting foundation, most likely was. Like this house, relationships were steadily crumbling, the atmosphere inside was dark, questionable and soiled like the soot from the wood burning stove. If the history of this house is correct, like the family within it's walls, it too had a history of violence and turmoil. Quite possibly there was also a tone of fear surrounding this home, just as there was while we were living in it.
I have wondered if the house itself affected the attitude of the adults of our family. Perhaps the cold, creepy walls and the ghosts residing within them, cast a 'spell'� upon our family. I don't recall whether or not there were huge, plate shattering arguments prior to our moving into this house...yet, again, I was a young girl and my memory of that time is so congested from trying to protect myself from my surroundings, that it is often clouded by only the bad memories.
If there were not skeletons in those closets before we resided in the house on Jett Hill Road, they definitely existed after we moved out. If walls could talk, they would unfortunately have a lot to tell.

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