Allen Russell, Vancouver
I took a job at Toys ‘R’ Us at 16 for some summertime income. This particular location in Sunnyvale, Calif., was the same that had been on the old ’70s show “That’s Incredible” and was featured as “The Haunted Toys ‘R’ Us.”
Back in the 1800s, the owner of the land had severed his leg in a wood-cutting incident and bled to death at the scene. He was buried where his body was found. Years later, they plopped a toy store over his grave.
As part of my new employee training, I had to walk the aisles and familiarize myself with the store layout. While walking one aisle about 40 feet behind a customer, a box containing a baby stroller came slamming down on the floor about halfway between the customer and myself.
The lady looked at me and got defensive, insisting “I did not knock that down.”
I told her I knew that she did not knock it down and that it seemed to be thrown down, not gently nudged in the least.
It was clearly slammed down several feet away from me. I also told her it was my first day at that somewhat infamous Toys ‘R’ Us.
As I regaled my co-workers throughout the day with my ghostly experience, in turn they each had their own tale to tell. Bicycles rolling down aisles all by themselves, dolls without batteries in them turning their heads toward people. It was all a bit too much for me.
I turned in my vest about an hour before my shift was done.

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