We purchased our home in 1991 from two boys and a girl who had inherited the house from their mother.  The father had died years before.  The parents of these children, the previous owners, lived in the house for forty odd years.  They purchased it a year after it was built, from the original owner.
(There are a number of these homes around the capital beltway -- built after WWII for civilian workers in the Pentagon.)
Both of these owners died in the house of natural causes.  The mother continued to inhabit the home after her death for approximately ten years.  Since the subject is telephone calls from the dead, I will stick to that part of the story, although the haunting of our house was quite extensive.
Shortly after we moved into the home the phone would ring nightly between 10:30 and about 11:30 each weekday evening.  If you didn't answer the phone, it would not stop.  If you picked up the phone and hung up without saying anything it would start ringing again.  Since I was the only one awake in the late evenings and subsequently answered the phone, I quickly learned to simply say "hello" and hang up.  I also learned not to try going to sleep before the nightly phone call.
Sometimes there was a lot of what I now know is white noise on the line -- a high pitched whining.  
Eighteen months after we purchased the home we had a Christmas tree fire.  Since there were three other fires in the area that day we were a total loss.  We found a rental home nearby to occupy so we could begin the process of rebuilding the house.  A week and a half after the house burned I was reading in bed (I will never forget what I was reading, it was The Bridges of Madison County) when the phone rang.  I quickly glanced at the clock; it was just before 10:30.  At the rental house the calls were sporadic, only occurring a couple of times a week.
Fast forward to about six months after the house had been rebuilt, and I am speaking with a member of the church we had recently joined.  She had the same last name of the previous owners of our house.  It turned out she was the sister-in-law of the male owner of our home.  We were talking about the house and the rebuilding.  I told her I had heard the daughter was devastated about the house burning.  She stated that the daughter still didn't understand why her mother didn't tell her she wasn't feeling well the night she died (of a heart attack).  It turns out the daughter was a nurse and she called every evening after her shift ended and she arrived at home -- about 10:30 pm!
You are welcome to use this story.  It is only a small part of a tremendous amount of activity that we experienced in this house.