When I lived in this 1930s duplex from 1991 to 1994, I was able to finally finish my Bachelor's degree in English, but I also lost 4 cats in only 3 years. Frances, my very first cat ever, that my friend and I had rescued from a shelter 2 years earlier, disappeared. Daughter-o-Frances, Toonces, got run over in front of me while I watched. Katie Scarlett, a Christmas present from my best friend... I found her dead body in my front yard when I got home from work, run over. A last, nameless kitty had feline leukemia and died only a few weeks after a friend gave her to me.
Every cat I had there was cursed.
And I was cursed, too. Every love failing as quickly as the cats.
There's "bad luck" and then there's a ridiculous amount of bad things happening.
I'm watching "Dead Files" on the Travel Channel right now, and learning about so-called "dead zones." I wonder if I was living in one at that time.
In my entire life, I have only had one spirit visitation, and it took place at this house. I had gone to sleep, drunk, after hours of mentally bemoaning the loss of my first lover. I was awakened at maybe 3 or 4 in the morning by something that made me sit straight up in bed. Something wanted to "get inside me." This wasn't leftover drunkenness, nothing like it. I sat up, horrified, and turned on every light in my place. I kept the lights on, and stayed awake until the daylight.
I know that Rainey Street since the early 1990s has been developed into bars and high-rises. Is there still some sort of bad spirit, there, I wonder? I post this exact address in case anyone out there ever searches for it and wonders if there was a particularly bad vibe there.