Welcome to Unexplained Extra with me Richard McLane Smith. For the weeks in between episodes, we look at the stories that, for one reason or other, didn't make it into the show. In last week's episode, Under the Asphalt, we came across some strange goings on taking place inside a South London housing estate in the nineteen seventies, in particular a section
of the estate known as Frankom House. Some believe the building has been haunted ever since its construction in the nineteen thirties, having been built on the site of Christ Church Cemetery, the church being knocked down to make way for the estate. Interestingly, many of the occupants who claimed to have experienced the hauntings often spoke of seeing the
figure of a tall man moving around their apartments. It brought to mind another South London ghost that is alleged to have plagued a property in neighboring Broccoley, not more than a kilometer from Frankham House. In the summer of nineteen ten, the journalist and writer Elliott O'Donnell relayed a peculiar story in the London based newspaper The Weekly Dispatch.
As a writer of apparent true life hauntings. He had got word of a terrifying apparition that had been stalking a house at the northern end of Broccoley Road in London. After some diligent work, he managed to track down the house's former owners, a Missus and mister Evans. As O'Donnell maintained, both were well educated, mister Evans being a solicitor, and
both were perfectly sane and rational in their outlook. Neither had the slightest hesitation in relaying their experiences to the writer, so convinced were they of what they had heard and seen. The disturbances had begun shortly after the couple had moved in to the Broccoli Road house. Missus Evans had been preparing dinner when she heard the rattling of a key in the front door lock. The sound of the door being opened and shut was then followed by the sound
of footsteps running up the stairs. She called out to her husband, but received no reply. After a quick search of the house, she found that she was completely alone. Mister Evans would not return back from work till late that evening. This strange sonic episode would continue to repeat itself on a fairly regular basis throughout mister and Missus
Evans's occupancy. Although somewhat disturbed by the phenomena, they seemed little affected by it until one evening, Having heard the sound at the front door again, mister Evans caught sight of a tall figure standing in the hallway just in front of the door. Though he couldn't see it clearly, it looked to be wearing a frock coat and top hat. Unsure quite what he was seeing, mister Evans approached the figure,
only for it to vanish immediately. A few months later, due in part to the apparent hauntings, an unsettled Missus and mister Evans moved out of the property. Intrigued by their story, O'Donnell made his way to their old home, hoping to scope it out for himself. He arrived outside the three story, semi detached town house one afternoon, but
was disappointed to find it already occupied. After knocking on the door, he was greeted by a gaunt, elderly woman, who had turned out was only a caretaker looking after the house while the owner searched for another tenant. It seemed missus and mister Evans's story may have been putting off prospective buyers. O'Donnell spotted an opportunity and offered the woman a small fee to let him stay a couple
of nights in the house. The caretaker gladly took the money and agreed to let the writer stay for two nights. A few hours later, O'Donnell returned to the property, escorted by his Irish terrier, whom he had named Ghoul. The caretaker explained that she had kept a small fire burning for him in the kitchen and that she would be back at seven am the next morning. O'Donnell asked her
if she had ever noticed anything strange there herself. Only the odd scratching sound on the stairs, she replied, which she put down to nothing more than mice sky about in the wainscotting. After setting down his things in the kitchen, with the last of the day's light all but gone, o'donald bent down and let Gul off his leash. Taking the candle left out by the caretaker, he lit the wick and proceeded to make his way throughout the house in search of the tall apparition in the top hat.
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Unexplained podcast today to get started. That's teladoc dot com slash Unexplained Podcast. As O'Donnell went from room to room with only the flickering light of the candle's flame to guide him, it was hard to ignore the growing sense of anxiety accompanying his every move. Thankfully, gool provided enthusiastic company, excitedly sniffing out the darker corners on his behalf. Having scoped out all ten of the rooms, O'Donnell proceeded to close all the window blinds and shut every door in
the house. At the sound of eleven muffled gongs from a neighboring clock, the writer and Ghoul returned to the bottom of the stairs to begin their vigil. With the dog having finally settled down beside him, O'Donnell held up the candle and blew it out. Engulfed in perfect darkness, the pair sat and waited. Six hours later, apart from the usual cracks and creeks of any old house, O'Donnell
heard and saw nothing untoward. The following morning, shortly after seven am, the caretaker returned, and O'Donnell and ghoul left the property arrayed, anging to return at ten pm that evening. Later that night, arriving again at the front door of the dimly lit house on Broccoli Road, something was different. Though he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was himself, gul certainly felt it too. Where before he had raced keenly into the house that night when the
caretaker opened the front door. The dog became suddenly subdued and sat stubbornly on the front step, refusing to budge. It was only after O'Donnell gave him a few gentle nudges that he finally relented and made his way into
the house. After seeing off the caretaker, O'Donnell proceeded to make the rounds again with Gul in tow, only this time, rather than bound on ahead enthusiastically into each room, the dog refused to leave O'Donnell's side, though he had no obvious reason to claim it, so the writer couldn't help feeling that on this occasion they were not alone, just like the previous night. He closed the blinds and shut all the doors, before taking a seat at the bottom
of the stairs. Gool refused to stay, still, whining and scratching irritably at the floor. Trying to ignore the dog's obvious discomfort, O'Donnell held up the candle once more and snuffed out its flame. It wasn't long after that the writer claimed to have heard the unmistakable sound of a key being placed inside the front door lock. O'Donnell called out, but there was no reply. Straining to see in the dark. He listened in terror at the sound at the front
door opening. Only not for a moment did he see the street revealed to him from outside. The sound was followed by the slamming shut of an unseen door and the sensation of something rushing past him and tearing up the stairs. Next, Staring up into the darkness behind him, O'Donnell heard a long and mournful sigh. Turning to look again towards the front door, he drew a sharp breath. There in the hallway stood a large figure dressed in
what looked like a top hat and frock coat. Terrified and excited in equal measure, O'Donnell dared not move for fear that the apparition might suddenly vanish, feeling as if time were no longer in motion. Eventually, he drew himself up and approached the figure. Convinced he was witnessing something not of this world. It was his primary objective to ascertain if the ghost, if that's what it was, was
aware of him. O'Donnell would later claim that as he drew nearer, he was able to see the figure in more detail. At over six foot tall, it looked as though it were leaning against the front door, its skin pale and luminous, and its eyes betraying a deep sorrow. My friend, he asked as he crept ever closer, Is there anything I can do for you? But there was no reply. Finally close enough to touch it, O'Donnell reached
out for its hand, and the figure completely disappeared. The following morning, a deeply shaken O'Donnell made a visit to the local milkman, mister Johnson, who he had been told might know more about the history of the house. According to Johnson, who was all too familiar with its haunted reputation, the place had once been rented by a mister Perry Stephens.
At some point, the man's son, John Stephens, who worked for a city bank, had got into trouble with gambling debts and attempted to cover them by committing forgery at the bank. After being found out for the crime, he had apparently sought refuge in his father's house for days. Perry Stevens kept an eye out for police while his son lay hiding inside the building under the floorboards. The police would eventually discover John's hiding place, and he would
be convicted and sentenced to jail for seven years. Embarrassed and disgraced by the ordeal. Perry Stephens, who was often seen walking the local streets dressed in his frock and top hat. Soon after travel to the town of Ramsgate on the south coast of England. It is there that he is said to have made his way to the top of the nearby cliffs and jumped to his death. If you enjoy listening to Unexplained and would like to help supporters, you can now go to Unexplained podcast dot
com forward Slash support. All donations, no matter how large or small, are massively appreciated. All elements of Unexplained are produced by me, Richard McClain smith. Please subscribe and rate the show on iTunes and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own you'd like to share. You can reach us online at Unexplained podcast dot com or on Twitter at
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