I grew up in two different haunted houses. When I was born in 1946 - after conception in a haunted boarding house in the French Quarter of New Orleans (there's another story about that!) - my parents were living at 711 Tenth Avenue with my mother's parents, her oldest, unmarried sister, and two high school brothers. Around 1949, we moved to 3003 Goldman, where I lived on and off until 1979, when I moved to New York.
Both houses still haunt me and still frighten me. If either of them turns up in a dream, you can bet your life that before long the dream will become a nightmare. Last night I dozed off sometime around 9:30 and I was back in the Goldman Avenue house. I don't remember anything about the dream now, except that something happened the dream took a turn and I woke around 10:45, grateful that I'd missed a badm frightening dream.