In February 1980, a strange series of events unfolded in Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, events witnessed not just by family members, but by landlords, restaurant owners, and police officers. It began the night Donald Decker, a quiet, troubled twenty-year-old, attended the funeral of his grandfather. Grieving and unsettled, Decker left the service and went to stay with friends on Ronnal Drive. What happened next would become one of the most contested, and most widely witnessed—cases of unexplained indoor rainfall ever recorded.
According to the homeowners, the first sign of something wrong came shortly after Decker sat down to rest. Water began to appear on the living room walls, not dripping from a ceiling leak, not pooling from plumbing, but materializing in sheets and rivulets that slid sideways across the plaster. The drops formed mid-air, drifting down in a faint mist that had no discernible source. When the couple confronted their landlord, he inspected the home from attic to basement and found no broken pipes, no burst radiators, and no condensation that could account for what they were seeing.
Meanwhile, Decker had fallen into a strange state. Witnesses said he looked detached, overwhelmed, and in pain. At one point, according to those present, he began to shiver violently, claiming he felt an intense cold spreading from inside his body. Moments later, water sprayed from the walls in new directions, upward and horizontally, defying gravity and the logic of any mechanical explanation.
The homeowners called the police. Officers Richard Wolbert and Patricia O’Brien responded to what they believed would be a standard disturbance call. Instead, they found a living room where droplets hovered, streaked across walls, and fell from open air as though someone had turned on an invisible shower. Their official incident reports later confirmed what they saw: water falling with no source, and no damage in the home to explain it.
The officers asked Decker to step outside with them, suspecting he might be the target of a bizarre prank. But when they left the house, the water stopped instantly. When they returned inside, it began again. The pattern repeated several times. The phenomenon appeared to follow Decker, behaving as though originating from him.
Seeking refuge, the group moved Decker to a nearby pizzeria owned by a longtime acquaintance. But when he sat down in the dining area, the impossible rain resumed: misty sheets forming beneath the fluorescent lights, droplets falling from nowhere onto the tables. One witness claimed a crucifix hanging on the wall flew across the room, striking Decker. Others said the air grew heavy, cold, and electric. Police were called again, and once more, officers reported the water had no identifiable source.
The following day, Decker was taken to the county jail on unrelated charges. Inside the cell, the rain returned. Guards later said water streamed down the walls, dripping from the ceiling despite there being no pipes above. One guard, skeptical and irritated, challenged Decker directly, only to watch water spray onto his uniform from a dry corner of the room. According to witness statements, the guard shouted at Decker, and the phenomenon grew stronger.
The jail staff brought in the prison chaplain, who attempted a blessing. During the prayer, Decker convulsed and later claimed he felt something “leave” him. Afterward, the rain ceased and did not return again. In later interviews, Decker said he had felt tormented, as though something expelling from him had been triggered by trauma connected to his grandfather’s death, a figure he privately feared and distrusted.
What made the Don Decker case extraordinary was not simply the strange indoor rainfall, but the sheer number of witnesses from unrelated professions: homeowners, landlords, restaurant owners, jail guards, and uniformed police officers all reported seeing water materialize in mid-air. Plumbing inspections revealed no leaks. Weather conditions were normal. No mechanism or hidden equipment could account for the direction, behavior, or persistence of the water.
To this day, the “Rain Man” case remains one of the rare modern paranormal events supported by official police documentation. Skeptics point to psychological distress or mass misinterpretation, but no natural explanation has ever fully accounted for the water that followed Don Decker, through houses, restaurants, and into a jail cell, before stopping as abruptly as it began.
Editor’s Note: This article is based on police reports, witness interviews, and televised investigations into the 1980 Stroudsburg case. Narrative elements are reconstructed for clarity, but all described testimony is drawn from documented accounts.
Sources & Further Reading:
– Stroud Area Regional Police incident reports (1980)
– Guard and staff testimonies from the Monroe County Correctional Facility
– Local newspaper coverage of the Decker case (1980–1985)
– Interviews collected for the television program “Unsolved Mysteries”
– Regional paranormal research archives documenting physical anomaly cases
(One of many stories shared by Headcount Coffee — where mystery, history, and late-night reading meet.)
