Friday, March 5, 2010
THE BANK VAULT
THE BANK VAULT
- Donna DiPietro
In 2000 I was working as the administrative manager for a company in Wellesley Hills, Massachusetts. We were located on the first floor of an attractive professional building on the corner of the street. Our part of the building was once a bank and the deposit drop off door was still in place on the front of the building. The bank vault was at the back of the office and was used to store file cabinets filled with closed sales folders. The vault’s heavy door was propped wide open with a large rock. Heaven forbid if anyone were searching for an old file alone late at night and the door should shut.
When I first entered the office and walked down the narrow hall to the vault area, I sensed a man in his early 50s standing near the vault door. He was dressed in a vintage 1930s dark brown three piece suit and wore brown shoes. He looked worried and kept looking at the pocket watch that he held in his hand. The watch had a gold chain that connected to his vest pocket. His dark hair was glossy and straight and slicked back firmly against his head. He was clean shaven and attractive and if he wasn’t dead, I would say he looked to be in the prime of life. The market had gone down drastically and everything he had in the bank was gone. He waited at the vault door peering into the vault and his eyes never focused on mine, he was in his own world. I sensed his name was George. I never told anyone about George until he was sighted months later by another employee. The receptionist’s desk was at the front of the office. One day she came running into my office visibly shaken. She said she had just seen a ghost. She had been sitting at her desk and noticed from the corner of her eye a person walking toward her. She looked up and saw a man walk right past her desk and go through a solid partition toward the deposit drop off door. She said he was dressed in an old fashioned brown suit and had dark hair combed back. There was no way the man could have come from the area were she first noticed him, because the door to enter the office was straight in front of her and he didn’t come through the door. I told her that perhaps she saw someone walking down the street in front of our building, but she insisted the man was in the office and walked right in front of her desk and straight through the partition. I mentioned this to Anne, one of our associates, and we kept it to ourselves.
About three months later a new employee joined our office – her name was Maudie. One day she heard Anne and me mention a ghost. Maudie stopped dead in her tracks as she went past my office. She said “Ghost, what ghost? Why didn’t anyone tell me about a ghost?” Maudie then related a terrifying experience she had the first month of working there. She had stopped by one night to use the fax machine. She came in through the front door and turned on some of the lights. The fax machine was located on the inside of the front counter. She had just finished faxing and was getting ready to leave when she saw a man walking straight toward her. She was very frightened as she thought that she was alone. The man walked right up to the outside of the counter looking straight through her, then he turned and walked toward the narrow hall where the vault was and disappeared. Maudie grabbed her purse and ran out the front door, not thinking if she left lights on or the door unlocked. She never told anyone because she thought she’d be laughed at, so kept the frightening experience to herself…until she heard Anne and me talking about a ghost. I asked Maudie what the man looked like. She said he was dressed in an old fashioned 3 piece suit and his hair was slicked back. The office is no longer in existence but George is, and he’s still waiting at the vault door.