My experiences were when I was 13-16 years of age while living in Williamsville, NY. The house belonged to the Buffalo Country Club and my father was the Club Manager, and the clubs usually provided the managers with a home to live in. The house dated back to the early 1860's.
We were not there long before things started to happen. We had a poodle who always could feel them before
we could. She would growl and run like crazy back down stairs. My brother told me of the times when he would hear my door open and I would say "no I don't want to get up" and then my door closing again and seeing something walk down the hall. I do not remember that at all.
There were at least 6-8 ghosts in this house. Most were docile but one was large and dark. I'm assuming it was a "he" - you know how you just get the impression. Well, he used to pull your hair, sit on your chest and make you feel like you couldn't breathe very well.
This one night, we were playing around, seeing if we could get them to come out, and we were walking down the hall with a candle with a glass globe, and the glass globe exploded. We first thought it was due to the heat of the candle, but it would have just cracked not exploded. We were lucky not to get cut. We ran into the last room at the end of the house and the furniture had been changed around to resemble a class room. We pulled on the furniture to put it back, but we couldn't get the desk and chairs to move for about 2 minutes. The longest 2 minutes of my life, it seemed; and all of a sudden, the furniture was loose and we could put it back.
Most of the activity in this house was upstairs and during the early morning hours between 2am to 6am, what some might call the "witching hours." My brother had twin beds in his room with a foot board that looked like a fence. One night, the dark one, I'll call him, was making the sound like someone taking a stick and running it back and forth on the bottom of the bed. It went on for at least a half an hour and finally stopped.
After my brother got married and moved out, I could not sleep upstairs alone anymore, and I slept in the den downstairs on the couch All night they would walk upstairs, especially in the room above the den.
We left the house after a few years, and the stories continued about the old home with the next family who moved in. They went so far as to get professionals in to investigate, and what was told to me was that there had been a lot of suffering and pain in the house, especially in the basement area under where my brother's room had been. The house was said to have been part of the underground railroad and I can just imagine the slaves who came through the house who may have died there while trying to reach freedom in Canada. That is the only thing I can think might be behin the haunting because only once in the whole time we were there did we hear someone talk: and it was in Southern drawl and about a war.
I have never lived anywhere else that I felt was haunted. My parents never said that they experienced anything in this house until a few years ago. My mom and dad use to sleep upstairs when we first moved in and promptly moved downstairs. Mom finally admitted she just felt funny up there and that doors use to open and close by themselves with a bang; and once, she even bumped into something in the middle of the hall when nothing was visibly there. I did not realize it at the time, but there were quite a few nights I was woken up by the police in town with flashlights because my dad had called them, telling them he heard someone walking around upstairs.