Several months after his unforgettable experience of seeing the ghostly dog in 1944, the young man from Norwood started out on a late rainy afternoon on foot, carrying an umbrella. Spirit dogs or no spirit dogs, the coal-oil still was needed, but the boy started making his trips before the sun went down.

When he was just about at the large carriage gate of the Mifflin mansion, he glanced up from under his black umbrella, and saw a woman in a long, white, dress standing in the center of Norwood Road about thirty feet in front of him.

His first thought was, who was she, because he didn't recognize her. Most unusual, everyone knew everyone in this rural community, if only to say hello. He also wondered why she didn't have a coat, or an umbrella over the unusually long, floor length dress; for it was damp and cold and had been raining steadily all day.

Not breaking his stride, he got closer and greeted her with a "hello." The woman, who was facing him, slowly turned to her left, oblivious to him, and started to float (that's right ... float!) across Norwood Road crossing in front of him. She disappeared as she floated through the small closed wooden gate, leading to the Mifflin place. Interesting enough, she was not wet from the rain, her dress softly billowing in the breeze.

The young man made record time to his relative's house. He did not go for coal-oil that day.

The relative who lived close by is now 87 years old. She remembers clearly the two occasions she comforted her nephew and remarked she had never again seen anyone so frightened.

Who was the woman who so silently traveled that spot of Norwood Road? Was it the spirit of Miss Mary Mifflin, the beautiful, red haired sister of Lloyd Mifflin who so tragically met her death in 1881?