An Uncomfortable Story

This is a personal account and one of the first that confirmed for me that all the things I had been experiencing may have actually been real.  I was not yet a teen, my father had died, my mom remarried, and we moved to a different state, (MA), to a new life.  I had a step-sister about 17 years my senior.  She had a fantastic job in the Boston area and lived there alone with her very young daughter.

One day, not too long after our move, we got a call that Barb, (not her real name), had been found dead after a presumable jump from her 10th, (or so), floor apartment.  This didn’t seem right.  She loved her daughter and had plans for their future together.  Her job was secure and she was successful.  Suicide just didn’t fit the picture, but I guess it often doesn’t make itself apparent.   But, there was this mystery man in her life that no-one in the family had met or knew.  No one knew who her daughter’s father was, either. According to neighbors of hers, this man visited her place often.  But who was he?  Did she really jump?  Why would she have done something like that with such a bright future and a kid she loved so very much?

Since I was considered, by my stepfather, too young to go to the funeral, I stayed home.  There were subsequent investigations by police into her case.  There were things that just didn’t seem plausible or to fit into the scenario.  There were some clues that could have suggested foul play.  There were questions that no one found answers to, but nothing ever came to fruition that I know about.  If this situation may have been a homicide it certainly has remained a cold case.

As I got older I decided I’d like to visit her grave.  I knew she was buried in Spring Grove Cemetery in Florence, MA – a suburb of Northampton, but had no clue about where.  I parked the car and got out, walked around for a bit, and then just stopped and looked.  Suddenly, I saw this woman with short brown hair and a blue dress wave to me.  She motioned with her hand to follow her.  I did.  She took me right to the site I was looking for. I had found my step-sister and she helped me do it.

Later that day, after arriving back home, I related the story to the family.  They looked either shocked or surprised….  It seems Barb had been buried in a blue dress.  I couldn’t have known that – I never saw her in that attire.  Her hair was short and brown.  And the area of the cemetery was correct.  Her name was on the stone at my feet.

Either there were no more investigations by the police or the case just turned cold and stayed that way.  I don’t know, but nobody was ever accused of pushing her over her balcony even though suspicions loomed.  Yet, every year on the anniversary of her death there were red roses placed on her grave by someone no one could identify.

-ashanta

Advertisements

Unidentified Flying Object and Missing Time

I don’t know what it was, but it was strange.

One spring night in the early 1960’s we were returning home from an evening of dance roller skating in Suffield, CT.  (Remember when they still used to dance on skates?)

We lived out in the sticks on a dirt road in the corner of Northampton, Easthampton, and Westhampton, MA.  It had been a warm evening and the moon was full.  The sky was clear and full of stars.

Halfway down the road, my mother, who was driving, said, “Oh my goodness!  What is that?”  and pointed to the sky.

There above the tree-line was a huge round something that was glowing in a swirl of white, grey, and purple.  I know the thing was much closer, but in relation to the full moon it looked to be three or four times its size.  It didn’t make any noise and it didn’t move.  It just stayed there and hung in the sky.

All of a sudden the wind came up and the trees were bending in the gusts that were blowing around us.  Even the dirt on the road was spiraling like small dust devils. Then some small trees that lined the lane blew down in front of the car.

We sat there looking first at each other then at the sky.  The thing was still there.  We wanted to leave and make it the next quarter of a mile to our house.  But, neither one of us wanted to get out of the car to move the downed trees out of the way.

Next I knew my mom opened the door and said, “I’ve got to go do it.” and went to the front of the car to start dragging the trees out of the way.  I couldn’t let her do it alone so got out too.

I don’t remember moving trees and  brush from in front of the car.  And I don’t remember getting back into the vehicle.  There is no memory for anything that may have happened during that time.

The last thing that I recall was being seated inside the car still looking at the sky and watching the thing take off – straight up and disappearing in seconds.

When we arrived home it was three hours later than we should have gotten there.