My mom's side of the family is Irish. So my grandma would tell me stories about my great-grandpa who was from Ireland. Just small stories, such as the fact that he had a musical ear and could play almost every instrument. (I wish it passed on through the family.) I've always been into paranormal things, so I would always ask her if he had encountered anything out of the ordinary throughout his life. Her memory was vague, so she asked her sister Mary, and Mary reminded her of his banshee incidents back in County Cork1 Ireland.
My grandma explained to me what Mary had remembered her father telling her as a kid. A banshee, before I go on, is an Irish myth. A ghost that protects an Irish family throughout eternity2 without showing itself, unless someone in the family dies. Since the banshee can predict the future, it knows who is going to die beforehand. So it mourns under the moonlight, with cries more like the wind and shows itself to someone in the family (preferably the one who isn't going to die). It gets so sad because it is a part of the family.
So anyway, when my great grandpa was a kid he would ride home on a horse, back in Ireland, through the fields from school
