When I was 3 or 4 years old we lived in a house in Wichita, Kansas, that had been an old plantation house that had been split into apartments. My mother told me that one night she heard me screaming and she came running out of her room to see me running down the hall from the bathroom. I had gone to the bathroom on my own and she told me that I told her there was a man in the bathroom.   She of course went running into the bathroom but found no one. The bathroom window was too small for anyone to fit through and upon searching out part of the house she didn't find a trace of anyone having broken in. She asked me to describe the man and I told her he had a pair of revolvers, was wearing a pinstripe suit, and had a mustache. I never saw the man again, but I wouldn't go to the bathroom by myself anymore.
About a month later she was cleaning up the kitchen sink when she found that the back wall was a false wall and pushed it out of the way. Inside was a small area big enough for a person to fit in, old bottles, an old blanket, and pinned to the wall the pin stripe suit. She was freaked out to say the least.   When I was 6 years old, my mom brought it up again around my grandparents. My grandfather had all these books about the old west with pictures in them so he pulled them out and told me if I saw the person to tell him. As he was flipping through, I did see the person and the picture I pointed at was one of Wyatt Earp wearing the exact same suit as the man in the bathroom.
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