Former policeman NORMAN DUNBAR tells how he came face-to-face with a ghost in a haunted Newcastle upon Tyne social club while on duty back in the 1990s

Summer 1992, I was a policeman, diligently and dedicatedly carrying out my duties, on nightshift, in the Walker area of Newcastle upon Tyne.
I was patrolling the Walker Road/Pottery Bank area in what used to be called Panda car but was now known as a Unit.
I was accompanied by another PC whose identity I should mask to save him any embarrassment or other concerns.
Let’s just say he was not gullible, very experienced, hard-nosed, had a bit of CID time in, shortly, a good copper and nobody’s fool.
Summer night I saw a ghost
It was a warm, muggy, still summers night, the air seemed to hang heavily, the sort of night all coppers have had, shirt sleeve order, windows rolled right down, straining to hear the distant noise of broken glass or squealing tyres, just anything to break the monotony of a quiet sleeping city, and hanging your head out of the motor just to get a breath of air.
It was about 3.20am when the stillness was shattered. The radioâs blared into life telling us âAll Units, Auto Alarm, Birds Nest Social Club, keyholderâs being informedâ. That was ours. The key holder, who I only knew as âTommyâ, got there in minutes and proceeded to open up and put the lights on and check the alarm, âGents Bogâ he carefully articulated in a cut-glass Geordie accent.
Now, the three of us were standing in the foyer facing into the premises, ahead to our left was the door to the âGents Bogâ.
Thatâs where it started, the âGents Bogâ, because just then, in front of, and in full view of the three of us, the door of the Gents Bog swung open, outwards, towards us and a man walked out. Time seemed to stand still, and afterwards, all three of us agreed weâd been frozen to the spot as if mesmerised.
The man that walked out of the âBogâ was short, about 5â4ââ (my wife is 5â4â so I had a pretty good idea) he also had black hair, cut in the short back and sides of the 1940s where the sides are practically shaved, and you see so many young people wearing today, itâs back in fashion I suppose.
Description of Newcastle ghost
His hair was also smoothed down with what I assume to be Brylcreme (My Dad used it) and severely combed back, I canât help think âold styleâ i.e. 1940s or 50s, besides that he was a wearing a black tuxedo, or evening suit, with black satin facings on the jacket collars, and a black satin stripe down his trouser leg (I only saw one side) he had on black shoes, very shiny, and a white shirt with a black âdickieâ bow tie, and I remember his jacket being buttoned. All in all, he had the look of an old fashioned âConcert Chairmanâ or MC.
Except for his face. We coppers all attended many sudden deaths, and thatâs what I thought I was looking at. Apart from someone suffering from Pernicious Anaemia, the only thing I could compare him to was a corpse.
His complexion was the waxy yellow colour of the dead. Seriously, his face was like a week old stiff. And his eyes open and staring, his gaze was fixed, he didnât look around or blink, and his eyes were fully open and fixed to the front, trance-like. As Iâve said he was walking, but soundlessly and quite slowly, no hurry at all, not trying to get away, or out of the club, or doing a runner from the Polis. He just walked slowly towards the steps of the concert room with his head and eyes fixed dead ahead unblinking and looking very much like a dead man.
As stated, we were rooted to the spot, and I think my mouth was open in astonishment many things were going through my head, I couldnât believe what I was seeing, I realised immediately that this was not normal but the sight of that face was chilling in the extreme and I could feel my hair standing on end, yes it really happens, I wasnât frightened, it had happened too quickly to be scared, there
He must have taken about five steps, slowly, passing directly in front of us, moving to our right, heâd gotten about two paces to my right when I had the sudden thought âThe alarm!â it was still activated, and it must have brought me out of the state of complete shocked disbelief I was in.
I took a step towards him and lifted my right arm. I intended to grab his shoulder and stop him, but as soon as I moved, I kid you not; he disappeared into thin air, in front of the three of us. Gobsmacked doesnât come into it. I said: âWhat?â
For a couple of seconds, we couldnât understand what weâd just seen, we stood there mouths gaping, looking around the foyer. The keyholder broke the spell by saying that he was switching the alarm off and locking up, and bugger the club, he wasnât coming back out again and they could find a bloody replacement. We then asked each other several times âDid ye see what I sawâ and âDid he just disappear in front of us?â The keyholder asked helpfully âAh wonder who he was, hey, that was a ghost wasnât it?â
And we were forced to agree. What other explanation can there be? Three grown men, two of us coppers, and we had just witnessed what? A bloke, in a tux, looking like something from the forties and walking seemingly in a trance, right past us. Never looking at us, or acknowledging our presence, totally oblivious to us, head and eyes fixed and looking very dead apart from his eyes being open. And vanishing into thin air. What would have happened if I hadnât moved? Where would he have gone? I still have many, many questions.
The premises were totally secure, so they got locked up and left in safety for the rest of the night, but just before we stepped outside the keyholder said he was never coming back âcos the effing place was haunted, I looked at my mate and he said âNobody will believe this, theyâll think we were p*ssed or on drugs, and thereâs nowt but the alarm gannin in me pocketbookâÂ
I was forced to agree with that, who will believe such a story, especially coppers, best not tell the rest of the shift, weâd be laughed at, best to say nowt, keep it to ourselves, and we did. Until now. The tale is told, and it is perfectly true, and there are three people who can swear to it, on a stack of bibles.
I intended to go back to the club in daylight and make enquiries with some of the older members, but I never did, on discussing it with my mate we decided to let sleeping dogs lay. Interestingly, the keyholder who was also a barman and who lived a couple of streets
But what of the ghost I hear you ask, well I believe this was a âResidual Hauntingâ one that is played out, again and again, the ghost of that man walking in the place he was probably happiest in life, repeating his walk, for all time, unseeing, unblinking, and conscious of nought.
The club is demolished now, Iâve never been back to Walker since I retired, I donât know if anything new stands in its place or itâs just open ground. Still, it would be interesting to know who he was in life, and if he still walks in spirit.

NORMAN DUNBAR was born and lives in Northumberland. He says: “I am 62, married, two grown-up children now living their own lives, and am now fully retired after suffering a stroke in 2010, (having said that I have made a full recovery). I have spent my life between the Armed Forces, the Police Service, and teaching, I.T. I have had a few paranormal experiences in my life, and have always wanted to have a go a





This is a great story, well told Norman and best of luck with your writing. I too am ex-Old Bill and have been writing on mysterious and paranormal subjects since retiring and it’s great fun. One of the days I’ll write up my encounter with a spook at Bramshill library whilst on a management course. An experience which I also chose not to share with my colleagues at the time!
Cheers for that Brian, glad you liked my (True) tale, I have heard of a ghost at Bramshill and I would encourage you to share it with us. Mant=y thanks for taking the time to read and comment.
Norm.
Good description and hairy story,the photo though is of the bird’s nest pub it was 300 yards away from the club,played many a game of darts in both venues.
Having been a member of the birds nest club for many years I can say that the way Norman described the club was perfect. I also think I can remember Tommy the keyholder who I believe was also the clubs doorman at the time. The birds nest was a great club sadly now demolished but was home to many great characters over the years. I’d love to know who the spirit was and have asked many of the old members who they think it may have been but to no avail. Loved Norman’s story though and believe it 100%. As a footnote I myself served with Cleveland police for nearly 13 years and have had a few unusual experiences myself answering alarm calls in the middle of the night, but nothing as scary as that. đ đ
The photo is the Birds Nest Pub not the Social Club.