My grandfather died when I was a young boy.He lived in Virginia in a small place called Fincastle.I never really new him and my grandmother had passed on years before.They had lived on a small farm in a farmhouse much there lives.The one thing I knew about him and constantly heard other family members say was that he loved fried onions very very much.My dad and brother and I went there to stay that summer to do some work to the house so they could sell it in the fall.My brother and I kept hearing noises at night sounded like someone bumping around in the kitchen you know getting a midnight snack or something.We thought it was just our dad snacking.We awoke the next day ask him about it and he said he slept solid all night without getting up.Few days later we awoke and heard them again so we crept downstairs and we could smell the strong odor of fried onions all downstairs.Walked to the kitchen turned on the lights and nothing was there just that strong smell of onions having been cooked.With the hair standing up on our necks we awoke our father and he could smell them too and we just could not exsplain it.The three of us still talk about that and will never forget.Might sound silly but it still puts a chill in my bones....
