I just posted this on a different forum, but thought I'd share it with you guys....
I work on the Naval Base where the Germany Dirigible Hindenburg Crashed on May 6th, 1937 - and my job includes making rounds to many buildings nightly, including the area where a temporary morgue was set up after the historic explosion.
One night in 1994 I was walking across the large hangar and as always the building was very empty an unattended - only our people and security have access to this build during off hours and this was nearly 2am.
I walked toward the boiler room and suddenly a firm hand grabs me on the left shoulder and spins me around in mid-step, I fully turn in a blink of a second and nothing was there. Nothing.
I could see at least a hundred feet in all directions, I wasn't near a door or a hallway anywhere - I was nearly dead center of a massive hangar, Hangar One where the Hindenburg was stored 12 times in 1936 on it's maden year of flight.
Hangar One (a National Historical Monument) at 800ft long still was not long enough to hold the Hindenburg unless the nose cone was removed from the great airship. But when you stand in this 240ft tall building, you can feel the presence of its mission in history. At 803.8 feet in length and 135.1 feet in diameter the Hindenburg filled this great hangar - I'm decades to young to have seen it, but interestingly - my Grandmother was pregnant with my mother on the date of the crash and grandmom owned a small diner less than 1 mile away and witnessed the explosion from the front step of her diner.
The Hindenburg was just approaching the moorsman (the guys who grab the cables to tie the great airship down) when it burst into flames during its first trip in 1937 - it never made it inside this great hangar again - except for the bodies and parts of the wreckage.
The bodies of the dead were stored in a temporary morgue in the hangar while investigations were being done and while bodies were being claimed. The actual body count in the hangar is lost in fog of time - not everyone killed made it into the hangar.
The weight of the hand on my shoulder was firm, the strong downward grip of a powerful man is the best way I can describe it. But in less than a blink I had looked 360 degrees and there was nothing to be seen in vast lighted hangar.
So, it's not a hair-raiser, but it was my ghost story and it was quite memorable to me, even today as I write this.