Like many ghost stories, Lori Bookwood's begins with things that go bump in the night. On a hot August night two years ago, just four months after moving into an 1882 frame house in Ingram, she was awakened by her daughters' laughter. But when she went into their room, both girls were sound asleep in their bunk.

"Maybe it was my imagination," Ms. Bookwood thought as she crawled back into bed.

Not so with the five loud raps on glass that jarred her from a deep sleep a few hours later, at precisely 4:27 a.m. There was absolutely no question someone -- or something -- had rapped on the glass pane of a door in the dining room.

"I was paralyzed with fear because I just knew it was in the house," says Ms. Bookwood.

Almost as unsettling was her 5-year-old's question the next morning: "Mommy, did you hear that little girl go by?"

Not wanting to scare her daughter, Ms. Bookwood simply let the comment go. But when she was awakened by rapping the next morning -- at exactly 4:27 again -- things were getting a little too creepy.

Still, she might have chalked it up to nothing more than a bad case of the willies. Then her boyfriend, Sean Vargo, who was helping her remodel the 124-year-old house, had his own supernatural encounter. In the middle of the night, something tugged on his toe, waking him up. The unwelcome touch was followed by little girls' voices.

"We decided right then and there that we had a ghost," Ms. Bookwood says.

From that point on, it got progressively worse. Along with the knocking, the couple heard kitchen cupboard doors opening and closing at night, footsteps pacing across the floor and whispering. The doors on the armoire in the master bedroom rattled uncontrollably on occasion, and more than once, a male figure bumped into the bed. The couple have also seen shadows under the door. One night, a plant inexplicably popped out of its urn and onto the dining room floor.

At the same time, Ms. Bookwood's daughters, usually good sleepers, starting having really bad dreams. In one, her oldest daughter saw a man standing in a hole in the dining room floor, near where they have heard someone pacing. Telling her the house was "alive," the spectre then asked her if she'd ever seen an alligator.

Even Mr. Vargo was getting creeped out. Standing at the kitchen sink one weekend when his girlfriend was out of town, he got an uneasy feeling of being watched. He ended up driving back to his apartment in Shadyside rather than staying there alone.

By December, the pair had reached their breaking point. Sleep was difficult at best, and on the nights her daughters were with their father, Ms. Bookwood would stay in town until her boyfriend was finished working because she was too scared to be in the house alone. Still, they were reluctant to tell anyone but close friends and family about their experiences.

"You can just see their reaction on their faces," says Ms. Bookwood.

Afraid they might be losing their minds, the couple decided to contact a local paranormal society. With any luck, they reasoned, the ghost hunters would verify the scary activity and maybe even make it stop.

Seven "spiritual interpreters" came to the house one evening, bringing with them a variety of video cameras, night scopes, laser thermometers and electronic voice phenomenon recorders. And what they discovered over the course of the four-hour investigation, Ms. Bookwood says, was a "total validation."

Almost immediately, a camera picked up five orbs flying around, while the EVP recorder captured someone taking two deep breaths. The television also turned itself on three times, says Mr. Vargo, who works in the mortgage industry, and a table and chair knocked themselves over in the girls' room. Then, just before the crew left at 1 a.m., everyone heard a loud scream.

"Everyone who was upstairs thought it was coming from downstairs, and everyone who was downstairs thought it was upstairs," says Ms. Bookwood, who works for United Steelworkers of America.

While they couldn't say who, exactly, might be haunting the house, the ghost busters felt certain one "evil spirit" was behind most of the disruptions. Maybe he didn't like the house being renovated or he might just resent another male presence in the house. Then again, the haunting might not have anything at all to do with the house. Spirits, they said, are often attracted by children because they're more open to the supernatural world.

Whatever the reason, all paranormal activity stopped once the investigators left, Mr. Vargo says. And everyone was once again able to sleep through the night undisturbed.

But not for long: In August, says Ms. Bookwood with a sigh, it started up again. The noises. The footsteps. The cupboards slamming shut. The television in the girls' room turning itself on. The bad dreams and sleepless nights. Most recently, two paddles broke off a never-used ceiling fan in their daughters' room. One ended up in the top bunk, right next to her youngest daughter.

Most of the activity is innocent, and no one has been physically hurt. And in a way, they've actually gotten used to it. But the mental effects of living with a ghost, she notes, can drive you crazy.

As a result, they've reached out to another paranormal society for answers. The ghost hunters are scheduled to do an investigation today. If that doesn't work, says Ms. Bookwood, they just might have to call in a priest to bless the house.

"So we'll give it this one last shot and see."