The night I saw a real live ghost

I was about 11 or 12 years of age, it was late on a cold dark winter's night during the second World War. I and my friend Gordon were asked to deliver some papers to the District Scout Master, who lived in East Street, Lidcombe. This street was on the western edge of Rookwood Cemetery.

Because we were Boy Scouts whose motto was "Be Prepared" we prepared ourselves by telling Ghost Stories to each other as we rode our bikes to Lidcombe. As it was wartime the street lights were blacked out, they were painted black with only a tiny spot left unpainted on the fitting, this gave very little light.

To be continued ...