I've always loved these stories too, Rick. Unfortunately, I'm also plagued by a terrible memory, so I tend to tell my own stories, wherever someone will listen. There's usually booze involved, but I'll make an exception.

A true story:
Back in the year 1987, my best buddy Jake and I were housesitting for his parents while they were on holiday. We were both 17 years old at the time and mighty full of young male stupidity. On Saturday night, there was a terrible storm, knocking out all of the power in Odessa (extremely small southern Ontario village), so we decided to play with a Ouija board.

Now, neither one of us believed in these things, but we thought it could be fun. We put our hands on the planchet and "concentrated" for one full minute. It had been decided ahead of time that I, being the less unintelligent (note the double negative) of the two, would do the talking. I said, "Is there a spirit present?" because that's what you're supposed to say (everyone knows that). The planchet began to move, one would assume toward the Yes, since it IS moving. But instead it went to the E. Then it kept moving, and spelling a whole word for us: E....V....I.....L.

Now, being young and impressionable and seeing the need to continue asking questions in the appropriate lingo, I said, "Will this evil befall us?" Ouija: Yes.

I asked a long series of questions over the next 45 minutes trying to narrow down precisely what evil would "befall" us, when, where, and by whom. The final results: On November 16/1991 at 11:30 pm, Jake and I were going to be murdered, outdoors, by a crazy man, who wouldn't use any weapons; our bodies would never be found. The final question I asked was, "How will this crazy man murder us?" The planchet moved: H....O....W....L.

As the planchet was just coming to rest on the L, all of the lights in the house came on, and so did Jake's Dad's Volunteer Fireman radio, with a huge blast of static. We jumped from our chairs, knocking over the table and sending the board flying. Being young and impressionable and scared "witless" we didn't resume our Ouija session.

Skip ahead to November 16/1991. It is 10:45 pm. Jake still lives with his parents in Odessa; I'm going to school in Peterborough, 2 hours away. My roommate and I are getting ready to do the half-hour walk across town to the university radio station to do our weekly show. I quickly phone Jake to wish him luck; he curses me for reminding him that tonight's the night. My roommate (we'll call him Andrew, since that's his name) and I head out into the night, with him being none the wiser that he could be walking to his death. I walk with my hands in my pocket, one hand holding my camping knife, ready for action. The walk is uneventful, and we arrive at the station unscathed. Our show is about to start at 11:30. Andrew is in the booth talking to the guy who does the previous show; I'm out in the hallway, thinking that maybe nothing will happen.

Suddenly, at approximately 11:29, a large wide-eyed bald man in a badly fitting peacoat begins banging madly at the window screaming, "Let me in!" Andrew goes to the door. I've lost my voice; all I can manage is a squeak of "no" as the door opens.

The madman steps inside, looks across the room and says, "Thank God! There's my Physics book."