Editor’s note: This is from a current resident of Soudan, recalling her experiences growing up.

When I was kid, I lived in the country, in a big house, on a hill. I didn’t have any siblings to play with and the house was very quiet. I had older parents. They didn’t have many friends and neither did I. We didn’t have TV. We didn’t even have fans. It was so quiet. 

When I was six-years-old, my grandmother died. She lived a couple hours away and I saw her infrequently but I loved her dearly and I know she really loved me. Despite that, I was never really sad that she died.
In fact, after she died I spent more time with her than ever before. I talked to her, a lot. I clearly remember talking to her in my parents’ garage. I would talk to her on the early morning bus ride to school, she would be seated there with me. I’d talk to my still-born sister and my deceased cats, too. I never knew my grandpa since he died before I was born. “I love you grandma, say hi to grandpa for me,” I would often tell my grandmother.
I would also surprise my mom by knowing which presents she had bought me before she gave them to me. She says, “children are more connected to the other side.”
I don’t talk to ghosts anymore and my tarot reading is really subpar. I have, however, had several people tell me I have a strong aura. I had a massage therapist tell me at the end of a session, “I usually wouldn’t say this, but your aura is really powerful!” I went back to see her again, and she had quit. I hope my escaping otherworldly vibes didn’t scare her!