It all started with my parents in the early 50s in a then small town of Gilroy California. The house on 6th used to belong to 2 sisters and there was nothing strange about the 2, they were just normal people that past away in the house. The house was always being rented out because nobody could live there on account of the ghosts that dwelled the house. The longest anyone had ever stayed in the house was about 6 months, until my parents moved in. They had been living in the home for about 1 year when the spooky stuff started. Several times there would be knocking on the front door and my dad would answer but there was never anyone there. This strange phenomena went on for quite a while and one time some of our relatives had come over and the knocking started. My dad always thought it might be kids in the neighborhood playing tricks so my uncle stood by the back door and my dad by the front door and when the knocking started they both opened front & back door & ran out only to see that there was no one there. Strange noises could always be heard under the house and my dad would look but nothing was ever there. We even had times where things would disappear and and then mysteriously reappear. Another time on the outside of the house, on the west side corner, anything mechanical would not work. You could walk by with a flashlight it would go out and come back on. Even the radio and lawnmower would not work. One evening my mom was washing dishes and to her right was my sister's roomy (Michelle). My sister was standing outside the door looking into the room saying "no I don't want to go" two or three times and my mom asked, "who are you talking too?" she said she was talking to the lady who was sitting on her bed. My mom ran in the room and nobody was there. When she turned on the light she noticed that there was an imprint on the bed as though someone was sitting there. One Saturday my dad was digging a hole to plant flowers on the side of the house. As he was digging, the ground gave way and he fell and began to yell for my mom. Granted my dad is not very tall but he could not touch ground because he was caught up in the shovel and suspended from the ground. My mom helped him out of the hole and they went into the house. After a few minutes they came back out and the hole was filled back up about 5 niches from the top. So my dad started digging in the same hole and it was like digging a new hole. 

After they moved out of the house, several people moved in and then out so fast that the people who owned it stopped trying to rent it. Years later they sold it and now it is the haunted library on 6th Street and as far as I know, it is still haunted. All of the things that happened at that house really didn't bother my parents and they just got used to it. We all did, because these ghosts seemed to have followed them every house we have lived in.