San Diego has its fair share of ghost stories. Unfortunately most of them are pretty weak. I for one am tired of hearing about the Whaley house. Not interesting. If you go to the Whaley house they show you a picture of light reflecting through a window and try to claim that its a ghost. Ooooooh spooky! There was also the time the curtains moved on their own!!!!! Stop or I'll be having nightmares about haunted curtains for months. I prefer the obscure or outrageous stories that don't end up being covered in national magazines on Halloween. Like the Blue People of Harbison Canyon, or the midget village of La Jolla. Or the Proctor Valley Hitchhiker. So, when I have the time I'll be going on little expeditions to scope out the areas that are "haunted" and seeing for myself what is the least bit belivable, and what is mere crap.

For the record, I believe in ghosts, at least I believe that they exist. I have no idea what they are beyond that. I hate most people involved with the whole "ghost industry" because they are a) con-men b) new-age idiots c) way too serious about something that is basically silly and 5) none of the people who contribute ghost stories to web pages know how to write a proper English sentence. Here's an example:
"We have lived in our home for all my life and I'm 12. 6 years ago my
brother died while playing with a gun in the basement, wich accidentally
discharged. About one year later I heard someone call my name from down in the basement, at first I was afraid to go down there, the 2nd time I heard
my name it sounded farmiliar and I decided to go down. To my surprise as I
touched the cement floor to the basement I saw a bright flash of light then
I saw what seemed to be a shadow slip into another room. I screamed and ran up the stairs, to find my father coming in the front door. I told the story
to my father, and at first he did not believe me.Later that night, my father
heard the voice also. As my dad went to check it out I hid under the covers
surprised by my stupidity. The house grew very quite besides my sobbing. I
saw a shadow move accross my room while I was trebeling under the covers. I yelled for my dad, there was no answer it was an aquered slience it was way too quite. I waited for the daylight to come out of my bed. I never heard from my dad again. Some people took me to an orphanage and I was just adopted and decided to share my story."
Not only is this story incomprehensible, it is idiotic. So the ghost killed her dad? Maybe dad was just pissed that he had a "special" child and took off to Mexico with the next-door neighbor. The story comes from The Shadowlands website, which is a neat site, save the fact that they apparently don't do any quality control of their stories whatsoever, so you end with stories that have words like "trebeling" and "aquered" (I have no idea what that word is even supposed to be).
For the record, I think I may have seen a ghost when I was a child and saw a man in a trenchcoat standing in front of a large window at the house I grew up in. Ooooooh, spooky.

PROCTOR VALLEY