Event Horizon – Chasing Ghosts – A few stories from the paranormal

First and foremost, let me get one thing straight. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN GHOSTS!

And despite being from the San Luis Valley, a historical hot bed of UFO activity, I have yet to see one of those. While everyone else is seeing fleets of these things promenading across the sky, I haven’t seen a thing. I guess I was looking in the wrong direction.

But, it’s an area that has a rich lore of ghost stories. Native Americans speak volumes of odd occurrences and strange beings in the area, The first European visitors to the area began telling all manner of tales that often times mirrored those stories.

The stories continue to this day, and they haven’t changed much. But then I am a student of the sciences, and I require evidence that will stand in court. Evidence that I have yet to see and examine. But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying a good ghost story or two. And seeing that Halloween is right around the corner, why not share three with you, two of which found their way into the novel.

–La Llorona

The first concerns a ghost that is a staple throughout the southwest in case you’re wondering. Here’s the setting. Everyone has gotten together for a little cookout. Steaks have been grilled, potatoes baked, and there’s even corn on the cob and homemade bread. It’s night and the sky is awash with stars.

Here’s the first story:

    As we ate, a breeze came up and there was a sudden, unearthly cry that echoed through the trees. Almost everyone stiffened and the kids cowered a little closer to the adults. I was amused to see Andy and Jonesy stand and reach for their weapons. 

     “What was that?” Annie cried.

     “Sounds like a woman crying,” Jonesy said, a hint of alarm in his voice.

    “Sit down and keep eating,” RJ explained while dabbing at some steak juices with a slice of bread, “That was just La Llorona.”

    “The what?” Andy asked.

    “The crying woman,” RJ explained. “It’s a ghost story of the southwest. According to the story, there was a woman who lost her children in a flood. She also died in that flood. At the gates of Heaven, she was unable to account for their whereabouts and wasn’t let in. So now, her ghost wanders the rivers and streams looking for them and she cries as she goes about.”

    “What a terrible story,” Annie said.

    “Well, that’s just one version. The other version is worse.  It says she drowned the children herself.”

     RJ chewed thoughtfully on a piece of meat and then added, “Another story says she cries before a death. That she’s just letting people know one is coming.”

    The wind blew again, and the cry echoed through the canyon. It was just a fluke of nature, but it was enough to brush against some ancient part of our minds and cause the hair on our necks to stand up.

-The Devil at the Dance

Here’s one I don’t mention in the book, but it will probably surface somewhere down the line in another.

There are several incidents that are associated with, the town of Las or Los Sauces (depending on the spelling you choose). Nestled on the banks of the Rio Grande River and before bridges were built, it was one place where people forded the river to get from the east side of the San Luis Valley to the west. Any further north and you end up adding to your trip. Further south is almost impossible since you’re now dealing with the Rio Grande Gorge.

Los Sauces is a small town and has some interesting stories associated with the paranormal. One of my personal favorites has to do with a guest at a community dance. One thing I’ll say for the community is there’s some heart-breaking beautiful girls that have come out of there. And that must have been true back in the early days when the community was founded. Back then, it was a full-fledged town with stores, a saloon, and a post office. Since it was a crossing, it wasn’t unusual to have strangers staying the night there. Well, this night. there was a dance in town, and there was a man attending it. Movie stars didn’t exist yet, but this man would have been considered “Movie star handsome” by today’s standards. The ladies were all taken with him, and according to the story he’d been dancing with them all night long. He seemed especially intrigued with the most beautiful girl in town. As he danced with her, someone noticed something odd about him. He had a barbed tail, and it was sticking out of his pant leg near his ankle. Legend says it was the Devil in the flesh. Realizing he’d been made, the Devil proved he was also a gentleman. He thanked the ladies for the dances, kissed his dance partners hand, said good night, and disappeared in a flash of light.

This story is told throughout the southwest, but the town names are different. I suspect everyone stole it and put the name of their town into it. That, or the Devil enjoys a good party, dancing with a pretty girl, and gets around some.

Makes you wonder how he finds time to create the mischief he’s blamed for.

-Iraq

Now, for one that’s going to make you think that maybe, just maybe, my cheese has slipped off my cracker. Like I said earlier, “I don’t believe in ghosts.” That’s not to say I haven’t encountered things I can’t explain. I still believe that someplace, somewhere, there is a logical and scientific explanation for this one.

I just don’t know what that is yet!

I do tell this story in the novel. This one has its roots in the real world but if pressed, I’ll deny it ever happened. I did fictionalize it in the novel. So, here it is, one of the few incidents in my universe that still has a big question mark on it thirty plus years later.

The Cease Fire was in effect following the Gulf War and we were camped right outside an abandoned Iraqi airbase. The place had a huge ammo dump that we’d blow up within a few days and we guarded it closely.

One night, my buddy G – (He’s married, highly respected, and his kids and grandkids and don’t need history too close to home) and I, decided we’d keep watch. All the other MPs were dog tired and since there’d be other teams out, we’d give everyone a break. We took the Humvee out, checked our weapons, communications, NVGs, and sat watching, chatting and quietly passing the night. We were sitting in a good position to see the whole dump, and just a dozen meters back from a road that bordered it. We had excellent fields of visibility and fire in all directions if needed. There was no moon, though we had a nice star filled sky. Couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful night.

Along about 01:30, we heard someone walking along the roadway. Thinking some local or a soldier hunting for souvenirs was about, we turned on our NVGs and started looking around. The NVGs made the pitch-dark Iraqi night as bright as day. I looked in the direction of the sound but couldn’t see anybody. The footsteps receded. My first thought was, “Crap, somebody slipped past us.” But then I heard the steps stop, turn, and start back in our direction.

I jumped behind the 60 and pointed it in the direction of the sound. G already had his weapon ready, jumped down from the Humvee, and whispered, “Cover me!” He quickly ran to a position where he could surprise whoever it was walking along the road.

The steps got closer, walked past where G crouched, and then kept going for about 100 meters or so. They stopped, turned, and came back, once again passing our position. Problem was, there was no one making the sound of footsteps. They went down again about hundred meters, turned, and came back, and repeated exactly what they’d done before,

G ran back and looked up in bewilderment. “There’s no one there. They went right by me, and there was no one there.”

He relieved me from the 60, and I went out. I looked up the road in the direction the sound was coming from. If anyone had been walking along it, I’d have clearly seen them. The footsteps were walking away. They got about a hundred meters down, and again, they stopped, turned and walked towards me. They got closer, and then walked right past me. I’d made no effort to hide myself, and stood in its path, my M-16 pointed at the sound of the steps. They got closer, were right in front of me, and then walked past.

Had someone actually been there, I wouldn’t have needed the rifle. I could have punched their lights out. But there was nothing there to shoot or punch. Whatever it was totally ignored me, and just kept on walking. I lowered the weapon and listened as they walked away. I felt pretty foolish standing in the Iraqi night with a loaded weapon, ready to shoot something that wasn’t there.

I slung my weapon over my shoulder and looked in the direction of the receding footsteps. “Fascinating,” I said to myself.

I walked back to the Hummer and got on top with G. We were both totally mystified.

“Well?”

“Whatever it is, isn’t interested in us,” I said. Somehow, that made me feel better.

We didn’t say anything for several minutes as the pattern continued to repeat itself over and over. We must have had the same idea at about the same time because we realized it sounded exactly like someone walking guard duty.

After about an hour, the footsteps stopped, and the rest of the night was spent peacefully. When the sun came up, we examined the area and the only footprints we found were ours.

When we were relieved and got back to the tents, Cpl. M (who’d run the team the night before our outing) asked if we’d heard anything odd.

I answered, “You mean like someone walking back and forth like they were walking a guard post, only no one was there?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Of course not,” we answered.

Army engineers blew the munitions dump up a few days later. The explosion was spectacular. The same day, we left Iraq to return to Saudi Arabia and eventually home.

Over three decades have passed. I’ve done a lot of reading, a lot of questioning, and I don’t have a clue what was causing the sound of someone walking a guard post. But every now and then, especially on nice, star filled nights, I wonder if there isn’t something walking guard duty around a site that no longer exists.

Trick or Treat everyone.