Who doesn't love the sweet, soft sound of children singing? How about 
Patricia, who heard the lovely, lilting lyrics of a child's melody as she was washing dishes at the coffee house one day. (Maybe I should mention at this point that Patricia was the only one in the building ... no radio or CD that day ... no sounds from the apartments above. Just Patricia and Our Ghost.)
That's Patricia in the red shirt, by the way. She really does exist, as does The Ghost of Linden Street Coffee House!
It's true, you know, that ghosts don't really say "boo," except in the movies. And ghosts don't wear white sheets, except maybe that cute, friendly little Casper. They might laugh, cry, or just be quiet, but Our Ghost likes to sing to us. Or at least to Patricia. To hear Patricia tell the story, it happened one afternoon when all was quiet in the coffee house. She was washing dishes with her back to the rest of the kitchen when she realized there was a small, high-pitched voice singing. She turned and just listened for a few seconds. Her comment to me was, "It sounded like a little girl singing, not sad, just quietly singing as though she was playing with her dolls."
So we think we've identified our ghost as a small child, and not necessarily an unhappy one. Just one who has found her (his?) way to our time, our dimension, our coffee house. We welcome her, but feel a little sorry that she hasn't quite found her way "home," wherever that is for her.
One of my summer projects is to research our old building and see what it's history includes. Watch in a few days for THE GHOST POST - Chapter V: Burned Basement Beams.
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