My Grandparents Lived in a Haunted House

My grandparents moved into a farmhouse somewhere in Nebraska.  This incident happened many years ago, before they had had their seven children.

My grandfather had gone to town with the wagon and my grandmother didn't expect him back until the next day.  She decided to sleep in the guestroom downstairs, which was directly beneath their bedroom.  Late that night she awoke to hear my grandfather opening the front door and the creak of each step as he walked up the stairs. She heard the bedsprings squeak as he sat down and then two separate thuds as he removed each boot. Assuming he didn't want to bother her at that late hour, she fell peacefully asleep.

But the nest morning my grandfather really came home. It had not been him the previous night. At that point my grandparents realized the house was haunted. They found out a man had hung himself in the kitchen. After the guests were always hearing mysterious noises when they stayed in the guestroom downstairs. One time a relative asked, "Who was having a party last night? I heard the fireplace crackling and people talking." Of course nothing of the sort had happened.  Sometimes in the dead of winter with drifts of snow piled high against the back door, it would open and bang shut -- or so it sounded as that was an impossibility.