This story comes to us from Austin, TX.
“I’ve only had a handful, of run-ins with ghosts. I’ve never seen an actual apparition. I’ve seen things move, but that is not the story, which I tell today. For a few years, what happened, would bug me for a long time.
I worked at Roy’s Taxi, from 1995-2006. I was a dispatcher, but also drove from time to time. Yes, you may play Prince’s Lady Cab Driver, in your head, when you think of me. =P
Back in 1997, when I was 26, I actually lived at Roy’s Taxi for a year, with my then boyfriend. The business, was ran out of the house that Roy Velasquez senior, built for his family. The house was located in downtown, on the south bound side of IH-35, just a block south of Cesar Chavez.
It was a rather large old fashion Texas type 2 story home. Roy had had 11 kids, 5 boys and 6 girls, and left his business to his sons. Roy’s had been Austin’s oldest running taxi cab company at that time, in Austin. It was opened in 1931, and was the first cab company, to pick up non whites.
The main office, was ran downstairs in what was once the living room and dining room. The dispatch and phone operator room, was where the kitchen, and breakfast room, had once been. When the house was built a lot of thought went into it.
The ceilings were very high both downstairs and upstairs. It was a very solid house, with real wood trim on the walls. The upstairs balcony, was directly above the front porch, and was just as long, and wide, as the porch.
I had lived upstairs, directly above the dispatch office. My bf and me, had the only real apartment up there. There were several rooms, without bathrooms, that were rented. We had a kitchen, and our own bathroom, and very large bedroom.
The single bedroom renters, had to share a bathroom, but they had no kitchens. There was a door in our bedroom that went to the shared bathroom. It wasn’t boarded up, but it wasn’t really a working door anymore, so we could not open it, from our side.
I was told Roy senior had died, in that apartment, which I rented. From time to time, on the stairs, in the living room, the dispatch room, and other place, you could smell someone smoking a cigar. Maybe it was just all the years, or Roy smoking. There were also rumors that he beat his wife, and kids. I don’t know if that is true. I never dare asked my bosses, if their dad beat them, and their mother.
I never felt comfortable, living there. It was hard to fall asleep, because, it felt like someone was watching me. All through the night we heard noises in the shared bathroom, like water running, or footsteps.
I stayed that year, because, it was cheap, and my job, was right, downstairs. How convenient, right? It got worse though, and my bf ended up going to jail for 4 months, because he attacked me. He had manhandled me from time to time, but he had not hit me before we moved, to that house.
During this attack, he also chocked me. He pulled a lot of hair off my head when I was able to escape. I ended up running down the street, to a pay phone, to call police, in just my bra. He’d been a bit jealous before we moved to this house, but at this house, it was full blown insane. He was a totally different person, while we lived in that house.
My bf, was so distraught of what he did, that before he was arrested he tried to commit suicide.
Now for what really put me through changes a lot, and gave me guilt. There was this very old Mexican Lady, who moved into one of the rooms, upstairs. She kept her long curly hair, dyed dark black, wore black Mexican dresses, and black eyeliner. She was like an old barfly, gypsy witch, but she was genuinely a kind spirit.
I believe she had been living from place to place, and was practically homeless. Roy’s Taxi, allowed her to pay by the week, and it was a very good deal, for someone on a limited income. She was rather active, and would walk around town, with like a rolling suitcase. She was pleasant. She was a sweet smiling person. If she had family, I do not know, but she did seem a bit lonely. I wish I had taken more of an interest in her.
One Saturday, when I was dispatching, I was alone, with no phone operators. It was extremely busy, and I was going nuts. The old lady, comes, banging on the dispatch window. This was a large window, that protruded outward.
It had a speaker, and a metal draw that pushed out, like and old fashion bank drawer. It was how driver’s paid us. She is knocking and screaming. I try to make out what she is saying, because she is speaking in Spanish, but rather panicky. It’s hard enough for me, to try to understand Spanish. (Hush, I don’t need a lecture, on someone of Mexican heritage, should habla well…)
I finally understood, that she said, a man with a bowler hat, smoking a cigar, told her to get the fuck out of his house, or he would kill her. She was in tears, and was very scared. I couldn’t leave my mic, and phones. I think I told her to tell one of the brother, who lived on the property. I don’t know what he told her, but she ended up going back upstairs. Was it that we did not believe her? Maybe a part of us did, but what could we do? At that time, I did think, maybe she heard the rumors, and had a nightmare. Though I don’t know if she knew what Roy Senior, had look like.
A week later, a bad smell coming from her room, had to be investigated. The sweet old Mexican woman, the one trying to stay young looking, all alone, was dead. She had been dead a week. I had been so into my own crazy life that I really didn’t realize, it had been a week, since I saw her. It haunted me for a long time that she was so scared. They found that she had been living on canned dog food. I would hear, that old poor people, would resort to dog food, but I didn’t believe them, until then.
This story is sadder, than scary. I don’t know if she really saw Roy’s ghost, or if it had been a nightmare, which ended up giving her a heart attack. I do know that right after, my bf, tripped the fuck out, and seem like he was gonna kill me. Prior to that, like I said, he became increasingly jealous.
I felt so relieved, when I finally did move, and I slept rather well. My bf, although we spent another few years off and on, he never tried to hit me or attack me, ever again.
Working there, was not bad. There was usually so much multi-tasking, doing that job, you didn’t have time, to think of ghosts.
As my story is not scary, maybe it is more a reminder, to reach out to lonely people, especially when they are scared. It can be hard to pull ourselves, away from whatever is at our task, but it is not impossible. Maybe had I walked up there with her, or let her stay in my apartment, until she felt better, she might have lived longer. It scares me the most that she died, alone, with no family, or friends to care. She was dead a week, before any of us took notice.” -Angela
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