A Haunting At CrowMac Creek

 Please note this requirement: Depending on any feedback I receive, I may try to publish this as a short story, so by reading this story, you have agreed that this story is my property, and that you will not plagiarize this work in whole or in part.

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Wednesday, April 3, 2024

 Back to Arizona and to Nature

    It's been a long while, too long since I had access to the back country, but I have returned. Don't get me wrong though. I enjoyed my life in Kansas. I met and enjoyed sharing time with Linda Taylor, Mike Kudlac, Dwayne Joe and many others. I met and fell in love with Laura Mikels, but my time with her ended with her untimely death at age 45.

    I have long been complaining that I had nowhere to go where I was far enough away from civilization to enjoy the feeling one gets when hiking, running or biking up a mountain trail, and then finding the peace that only is derived  natures' grandeur.

     Now I am in Arizona and it is a good match.

A New Resident At CrowMac Creek

 Larry Bidtah, one of my closest friends and fellow teacher passed on February 15th, 2024. He died after a long struggle with cancer. He was good man and he was a person who worked with students with emotional problems. With his even personality, he gained the trust and respect of each of his students. 

He spent an enjoyable summer with me. We explored and hiked all around the Navajo Reservation. But the last time I saw him, I had been angry with him and, even though I may have had a reason to be angry, I should not have treated him the way I did. 

After everything, I realized what I had done. I tried to find him countless times, all without success. I tried to find him again today and this is what I found found:

Lawrence Bidtah

Good friends are few, it seems, and those relationships are well worth whatever we can do to keep them alive. 

I have written about CrowMac Creek in the past, and many of the residents at CrowMac Creek have moved from this life to the next. There really is a CrowMac Creek, but it is not called that. It is actually a little town in Arizona situated between Payson and Strawberry.

My father had purchased a cabin for our mother as a bonus for agreeing to move to Arizona. She really wasn't pleased to pull up roots and make the move. But she loved spending time in CrowMac Creek and it was a wonderful place to share with the family. We all watched our mother sit on a green and white webbed patio chair, drinking coffee and enjoying everything. I don't think I ever witnessed her any happier.

Our mother passed away after struggling through lung cancer. Our father remarried, and gave his new wife the cabin. She sold it and built more structures on her property. Then she kept my sisters and me away from our father.  Now our mother and father are gone and so is the cabin.

I created CrowMac Creek to keep my memories alive and many of the occupants had been close friends who had passed away. Gary Heil was a close friend for many years and resides in the area, at least in my mind. You will find him in previous posts and now works at the CrowMac Creek Chronicle owned and operated by my oldest friend, Howard Ray.  Laura Mikels, my last significant other as well as my fiancé has left life as we know it, but she now remains in the cabin and greets visitors when they arrive. Sue and James Haynes, my best and longest standing (and living) friends show up from time to time as well. And Mike Kudlac, another living good friend was able to make a virtual visit to join with us for a ghost hunt. When the weather is nice, and in the coolness of the morning, you will see my mother sitting in her chair enjoying the scent of the Ponderosa Pine and the chattering of blue jays. Now I understand that Larry Bidtah has already shown up in CrowMac Creek and is using his expert carpentry skills to create patio and deck furniture. He also enjoys playing cards, which pleases Laura.

I would wager that many of you already know that the cabin in CrowMac Creek is Heaven, my Heaven. And I know that I'll be seeing Larry again with Laura and Gary Heil and all of the rest of our visitors. More later.

Sunday, March 24, 2024

The American Dream: All But Gone

 In 2000, I worked as a track coach and substitute teacher, applying and ultimately failing at securing a teaching position. I lived in a nice little town, Mancos, Colorado, and as I taught, I met many families where, upon high school graduation, their sons and daughters were unable to secure housing close to family and friends. There was little work and the housing prices were well out of the reach of these young people. 

This was prior to the wave of greed that ravaged this country after Covid. Understandably, with workers falling ill, and a broken supply chain, the costs of doing business increased, sometimes generating prices beyond what people could pay. We saw this in the prices of groceries, household goods, and especially housing. And worse, after Covid had come and gone, the increased prices remained the same and others actually increased. 

We are living in an era where profits and corporate management incomes have increased substantially. Now I don't begrudge people wanting to better their finances, but this system cannot exist without growing our level of poverty. 

When more people start falling out of the economics of today, they will not have the cash to pay for rent, transportation needed to acquire a job, food and healthcare. When they rent now, they know that  they will need to pay $100 to $200 monthly increases per year. They also know that the only way to keep on top of their finances will be to purchase a home, which they can no longer afford.

There are now 37.9 million people in the US living in poverty with more to come if nothing changes. We have many property investors buying up and homes. As they do, there is a  decrease the supply, making homes even more expensive, and as homes become more expensive, more families are evicted and then falling into poverty.

What happens to people in poverty? Since they cannot earn as much as they need, they become desperate, and desperation may create more theft, broken families, homelessness, and something else. Businesses rely upon customers having the income to purchase their products. If their paying customers thin out due to inability to pay then there will be business closings and possibly bankruptcies. This process will cycle and with more and more people losing jobs due to closures and bankruptcies, more businesses causing more people losing their income, then becoming incapable to purchase items in stores.

We need to see and change this. If we cannot reverse these trends, we will become just another banana republic.

Thursday, October 6, 2022

     Long time, no see, but I'm back. I'm teaming up with my good friend and fellow life long learner, Mike Kudlac in a new portrayal of the lives and times of the old west. It won't be long before we begin at Westport, Missouri where early trappers begin their treks to the Rocky Mountains and those who established the Santa Fe Trail using freight wagons that hauled the niceties of the East to those in New Mexico with an appetite in for these goods. 

Post Script: Mike and I never found that part of the Missouri River where trappers and traders shoved off and began their treks west. In fact we found that this port of embarkation was closer to Independence. 

A Haunting At CrowMac Creek

What are ghosts? No one can say for sure. They fascinate us and they frighten us. We want to see them
and then we close our eyes if they approach us. We hear their footsteps along dark hallways and our
hearts race in response. Their cries disturb us and yet draw us closer. Are we so different from these
shadows? They walked the Earth just as we have. They felt all of life’s joys, losses and pain.
Tears they have shed have streamed from earthly eyes. Love and anger have shaped their expressions
and for some secret reason, they have chosen to remain somewhere between here, now and forever.

“Steven!”
I turned to see who was calling, and who I saw was a bit of a surprise.
It was Jo from Home Depot wearing that wall to wall smile that rarely leaves her face. I could have not been more surprised or pleased at seeing Jo here in CrowMac Creek.
“Well, look at you! I’ve gotta say that I’m really surprised that you would drive all the way come to see CrowMac Creek.
“Oh, I’ve been reading your blog and I just had to see if things here are as you have described.”
“What do you think?” I asked. “Where are you staying?”
“I love it here; absolutely love it, and I’m staying with your neighbor, Jene.
“Hmmm. Now that’s interesting... How did... you two get together?
“Well, I left work two days ago and drove to CrowMac Creek. I knew the address of your cabin, but that was about it. I arrived yesterday in Payson and spent some time shopping in town. I was looking at hummingbird feeders when I met Jene, one of your neighbors. We talked some and I mentioned that I was going to visit you at your cabin. She asked if I’d like to stay with her. We had a nice quiet evening.”
“So, if you have been reading my blog, you would know Gary and Howard.”
“Yes! I’d love to meet them.”
“Good, because they’re coming over here for dinner and will be arriving soon. Join us, would you? And ask Jene if she’d like to come along.”
Jo responded in the affirmative and returned to Jene’s, cabin. So I grabbed a bag containing a couple of pounds of hamburger, some brats and condiments and carried it to the back. After opening the back door of the cabin, I placed the bag on the table. Then I opened the front porch.
I continued transporting what remained in the truck to the cabin, and when this was complete, I inventoried what I’d brought and put things in their places. I hauled my photography equipment to the bedroom and placed  it on the bed. I checked my batteries making sure that everything was fully charged. Then I inspected each camera, assuring myself that all of the SD memory cards were in place. To video and photograph what Howard wanted would require every camera I had as well as Linda’s equipment, and everything would be need to be  in working order.
Then I pulled the Mel meter, infrared thermometer, REM Pod and the ghost box from a small pack. After assuring myself that all of the ghost detecting equipment was operating as it should, I looked to see if I had running water. I was relieved to see that the water was running and the toilet would flush.
In the kitchen, I made up some hamburger patties and placed them on a plate in the refrigerator next to the brats and the jalapenos. I took the beer, iced tea and soda from plastic bags on the table and placed them on ice in my cooler. I pulled my store bought potato salad and plenty of chocolate cookies from my Sprouts bag and everything looked good.
Cheyenne was barking at the back door so I opened the screen and caught her by her collar, holding her so that I could make sure that she hadn’t been sprayed by old Mr. Skunk. She hadn’t and that was good because I had no tomato juice and little bicarbonate of soda to wash her with. Everything was in order and ready to go for our evening get together. Then I sat into the old orange rocker and opened a book about the paranormal world.
It wasn’t long before I heard Howard’s truck roll into the driveway followed closely by Gary’s motorcycle. Howard stepped from his truck and they met for a lighthearted moment, laughed and walked toward the dusty screened in porch where I opened the door to let them in.
“Who the hell is this guy? Gary”
“I don’t know. Homely looking character.”
“Cut it out, and get in here!” I demanded. “Grab yourselves a beer and a chair. I need to go out back and start the barbecue.”
“I hope you have something other than that ‘hoppy’ crap you’ve been buying,” complained Howard. Your buddy Mike doesn’t like it either.
“No, Howard. I have some Natural Lite for you. I couldn’t find that generic beer you like.”
Smiling, I turned to walk out back. After a bit, the charcoal was going well, and I took a easy breath of CrowMac Creek air. Blue sky, 80 degrees and an evening with good friends. I needed this time. It had been far to long since I had really enjoyed myself. I listened to the musing of the jays and the banging clatter of that old brown Chevy pickup working its way up Hardscrabble Road.
Cheyenne stood at the screen door and whimpered, so I let he in and returned to my friends. As I walked into the living room, Howard continued his light hearted jousting with me.
“I don’t remember what your last assignment was for the Chronicle, but you didn’t show up at all.”
“C’mon Howie. You know that I need to be miserable from time to time. I need to make a little money.”
“Well, if you were working for the paper, you could make a little cash.”
“Yeah. Very little cash. No one can live at CrowMac Creek for nothing”
Gary chuckled. “With what you pay me, I need to sell my plasma just to buy gas for my bike.”
There was a knock at the door, and I walked out to the front porch and opened the door for Jo and led her into the living room.
“Guys, this is Jo. Jo, this is Gary, and over here is Howard. He’s the owner of the paper, and the one who has come up with this idea for a hair brained evening.”
Smiling, Jo shook hands with everyone, then asked where she could put some more beer, some soda and iced tea. I pointed to the area just outside of the kitchen.
“I started the coals for the barbecue a few minutes ago and we will be eating soon.”
“That sounds really good. All Jene had around were some cold veggies, and I’m famished. And speaking of Jene, I had the feeling that you and she have a history.”
“Well,” I hedged, “That’s a story for another time.”
“Why not now?” Gary prodded.
Howard elbowed Gary and grinned as Jo walked out back.
“Jo looks like a smile pinned on a lovely woman,” Gary remarked.
Yeah, she’s a sweetheart,” I responded. “Everyone loves her at Home Depot.”
“You think she might want to work at the paper? I could put her in charge of the Style Department,” Howard suggested.
“Maybe when you start paying us!” Gary laughed out loud.
There was a knock at the screen door and Linda, the Chronicle photographer and fellow Home Depot associate walked in. It was good to see her with her camera. We hadn’t had much time to get out and photograph birds lately with our schedules and the lousy weather in Kansas. Everyone greeted her, and Howard gave her his seat on the couch. Then he became more serious.
“I want to tell you all a little about our, for lack of another word, ghost hunt tomorrow night.”
We all sat in silence as Howard gathered himself, choosing  his words carefully, and  leaving long pauses after each sentence. Each of us sat forward in anticipation of what Howard would say.
“There is a little A-frame cabin in Payson. It’s a cute little place and is built on a piece of land about a mile away from any other homes. It was picked up for a song by Roger Wright. You know him, Steve. He owns CrowMac Creek Bait and Tackle, just up the road from the grocery store.
I nodded and motioned to continue.
“The cabin stood unoccupied since the ‘70s. It appears as though a woman died there, and it is generally agreed that she has never left. Several people have lived in the cabin, but no one stays long. After several unsuccessful attempts to rent the cabin out, the owner gave up and walked away from it, telling the bank that he should have been told about its history. Since then the bank had sat on the property, no longer attempting to unload it. The cabin fell into disrepair and became a blight in the area. High school kids had been going up there and had further desecrated the property.”
Howard looked to see if everyone had been following his line of thought and continued. “Residents in the area have demanded that something be done and the bank put it up for sale for back taxes. Roger saw an opportunity and picked it up. Since then Roger has really dressed the place up. It required structural repairs, a major facelift and a whole lot of paint”
“Have the contractors interacted with this ghost?” Gary inquired.
“Yes they have. Roger has gone through five general contractors. He provided them with the background of the home in their contracts, and offered to pay them well. But all of them have left, breaking their contracts. Roger has taken two of them to court for ‘failure to perform,’ but the court has sided with the contractors.”
“Has Roger tried to go to the Church to perform a cleansing?” I asked.
“He is a member of the Latter Say Saints, and they walked the property in prayer. They symbolically cleansed the property with the blood of Jesus, and Roger even invited the parish priest to exhort the spirit to leave, but nothing has worked. The ghost is still one with the property.”
“Are you implying that we will attempt to rid this cabin of this ghost? Are you out of your mind? “ There are paranormal societies consisting of people who have been working in this field of research most of their lives, and their evidence is scant on the ability to force ghosts to do anything.”
“No,” Howard replied. ‘Roger doesn’t believe that anyone can rid this property of spirits. He has an alternate use for the cabin. He thinks he can turn a profit if he can sell the experience of witnessing a real haunting to amateur ghost hunters. “And,” Howard looked a little sheepish, “We have exclusive rights to publish articles on this topic.”
I glanced at Howard waiting for any evidence that he was spoofing, but that evidence did not follow.
“This may be more difficult than you think,” Jo interjected. “I spent a little time at the Payson Roundup when I first arrived and they have digitized their news back into the 70's. There was an article written about this cabin. The woman who died in this house was murdered by her husband, but much of the information surrounding this deed seems to have been expunged. It was suspected that she was having an affair with someone in CrowMac Creek. It is known that her husband committed suicide by police.  He walked out of the cabin, holding a 38 cal handgun in a handkerchief. The police demanded that he drop it to the ground. He didn’t and they shot him dead.. It was very strange though. The gun had been shot but there were no bullets in it when he was killed.
After this, everyone sat quietly, contemplating what we had heard.
My heart beat like a base drum. I had read a little about ghosts and hauntings, but I knew only enough to avoid situations like this. I especially feared the husband’s ghost. Angry and evil ghosts have been know to cause emotional and physical injury to those who disturb them. “All right then,” Howard continued,. “Are we all in on this?”
Frankly I expected a stampede to the door and out of the house, but no one left.
“Linda moved up behind me and whispered, “You remember when I told you that I was afraid of evil ghosts?”
I nodded. “This is up to you. I can handle the photography if we do go on this fools errand.”
“I’m in,” Gary replied.
“So am I,” answered Jo, surprisingly still maintaining a smile, though somewhat subdued.
I shook my head and responded with a ‘thumbs up.’
I think this will be extremely frightening and possibly dangerous,” Linda warned. “But if all of you are this insane, then so am I.”
“Great!” Howard set up the agenda: Meet at the CrowMac Creek Chronicle at 8:00, then on to Payson and arriving at the target location just after dark.”
“Howard, that does not give us enough time to prepare for and set up the equipment. If this paranormal escapade of ours is to have much credibility, then we will need strict protocols and documentation. We can’t just arrive at this haunt with flashlights and a six pack of Budweiser. We need EMF and temperature readings and someone to record them. We need to set up EVP equipment so that we can hear what a spirit might be telling us. Then we want photographs. Video and recordings will also help support our findings. Most importantly, we will need to prepare ourselves.”
Howard frowned and glared at me. “Okay Mr. Paranormal expert. Just what do you think we need to do to protect ourselves.”
“First, we need to feel confident, peaceful and protected.” I looked to see how my friends were perceiving all of this. “In what I have read, prayer is vital for those with faith to find inner peace. If we become involved with any evil, mean, or angry spirit, we will need to be strong. And you believers might brush up on the Lord’s Prayer.”
I suggested that we all meet at the Chronicle at 5:00, and there was general agreement. We said good night and Howard waited until everyone had gone.
“What the Hell are you doing? I don’t have all day for all of this hocus-pocus paranormal, shit. I have a paper to run! I thought you were a friend. And we don’t want these spirits to leave this cabin.”
“Yeah. And we don’t want to have any of them attach themselves to, or go home with us.”
“They can do that?”
“You know Mike? His wife, who apparently is clairvoyant, refuses to go to haunted places. You know why? She says the spirits follow her home. And there is something even more personal” I glanced at Howard.
“Okay, go on.?
Howard backed to the couch, sat and a thoughtful demeanor replaced one of anger.
“Laura and I haven’t had much in common lately, and we haven’t been doing much together.” I stopped for a moment to gather my thoughts. “A while back I had seen what appeared to be two girls watching me from the hallway in my home. When I looked directly at where they seemed to be standing, I saw nothing. From that time on I joked about seeing ghosts. When Laura took quarters I had squirreled away, I blamed it on the ghosts. If I left cabinet doors open in the kitchen, I blamed it on the ghosts. Laura was amused at all of this and suggested that we go to some of the many haunted places around town and investigate.”
Howard’s interest seemed to peak, so I continued.
“I began studying the paranormal, and bought some basic ghost hunting tools. I started to use this equipment at home with little success, that is until one evening when I played with an app on my phone. The app picked up a hot spot, a red dot which was supposed to reflect the  increased energy associated with a spirit. I had never encountered anything like this before. I quickly shut the app down, then something surprising happened. I became surrounded by an icy cold spot in the livingroom, then could smell cigarette smoke.
“Bingo!,” I thought, then the hair stood up on my arms and the back of my neck. I quieted myself. I didn’t feel threatened, so I continued by welcoming the spirit. I turned the TV on, found a ghost movie, pulled up two chairs, and invited the spirit to watch with me. The smell of cigarette smoke remained throughout the evening. Again, I did not feel threatened so it just seemed like fun.”
“But one night the spirit thing got out of hand. Laura woke me up telling me that she heard voices, both that of a woman and a man. She told me that the voices were coming from the living room. The air purifier was running, so I thought the noise coming from it was creating the sounds of voices. Laura demanded that I go to the living room to check, which I did. I heard no voices, but it was very cold in one corner of the living room, and the hair on the back of my neck as well as on my arm began lifting.”
“I agreed that this might be another ghost encounter, but it was 3:30 in the morning and I wanted to sleep. Besides, I didn’t feel threatened, so I returned to the bedroom.”
“There’s nothing out there,” I lied. “Laura was not comforted by my assessment and remained frightened and awake throughout the rest of the night.
“You must have been frightened as well”, Howard added
“Not really. Of all of the times I’ve had paranormal encounters, I’ve never felt threatened. But I was more angry at myself for bringing all this into my home.”
“When I arrived home after work the next day,” I continued, I could still sense that at least some of the spirits remained, so I decided how I’d handle the incident. I prayed for internal peace and protection. I asked for the strength I’d  need to move any remaining spirits from my home. In this I was able to relax and gain the courage to face these ghosts, and I demanded that they all leave.”
“Get the Hell out of here! You don’t belong in my home and I am not alone. I stand here with God Almighty! You will not remain here. You don’t belong here! Why are you still in this earthly realm? Get out of here! Get out!”
“Did it work? Did they leave?”
“I don’t know, Howard. I think so, but I know so little about the paranormal, except that sometimes bad  things can happen.
“What about Laura? Have these spirits attempted to contact her again?”
“Only once but she wasn’t frightened. She’s been at peace since that night. But it does appear that she is able to communicate with them, and she still wants to investigate these things. But not in our home.”
“Well, I don’t really want to pressure any of you, but this is a real opportunity for the paper. Interest in Spiritualism is a growing and I’d like the Chronicle to be on the cutting edge of this trend.
We are all with you in this, Howard, but let’s do it right. A couple hours more in preparation won’t hurt the paper, and it will assist us in writing a better article.”
“And it will be more safe?”
“Yes. I just hope we don’t need this preparation.”
“You’ve always been my best friend, Howard. I knew you’d get it... Even if I had to beat it into your hard head with a stick.
“Smile when you say that, Steve. I’m still your boss.” Howard grinned. “Five o’clock it is then and don’t be late!”
Howard and I walked to his truck, chatted a bit, then Howard backed out of the driveway and headed back down the road toward home.
I returned to the cabin, picked up a bit, and sat in the orange chair. As I considered what may happen or not happen the next evening, Cheyenne trotted over to me and pushed her head against my leg. Her mournful demeanor guided my thoughts toward a premonition of doom so I let her out for a few minutes. I brushed my teeth, and made ready for bed. I closed my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. I couldn’t shake a feeling of foreboding.




The next morning I woke to Cheyenne pawing at me and whimpering. I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I stood. I opened the back door for Cheyenne and then pulled a can of coffee from the cabinet. As water poured from the faucet into the carafe, I spooned enough coffee into a filter to wake the dead. When half of the coffee had  filled the carafe, I poured a cup, took a sip and winced sharply. I added a little water and then sat at the kitchen table. As I forced coffee down my throat,  my eyes opened and thoughts of the anticipated evening’s thrills fought with the fears of what could actually happen. As the two battled within my consciousness, I decided to focus on picking up the last of the mess I had neglected the night before. I was expecting Laura to arrive within the next hour, and if there was anything more frightening than coming face to face with a ghost, it was facing Laura with a messy cabin.
I had just finished picking up as Laura rolled the Focus into the driveway. I was pleased that Mike had come up with her. His technical knowledge was a real asset when working with the range of equipment we were using.
“Mike and I brought Laura’s bags in and when everything was put neatly in place, I filled them both in on what our plans were for the evening.
I spent most of the afternoon sifting through all of the equipment again, and when I was satisfied, I sat on the porch to read.
It was 4:30 in the afternoon when Jo walked over and met us, and we headed off to meet the others. Cheyenne had jumped, uninvited, into the back of the truck and could not be enticed out, so I closed her in with the equipment. I climbed into the truck and headed down the dirt road.
Howard and Gary were standing in front of the Chronicle as we maneuvered into the parking lot. I introduced Howard and Gary to Laura and Mike. Howard opened the door and motioned to us to follow him in. We walked past empty desks, offices and into the conference room where Linda was already sitting, preparing and cleaning her camera gear. We all took chairs and sat and Howard looked to me to begin the meeting. I was not prepared for this experience. I cleared my throat and began.
“This evening we may experience something that none of us will be prepared for, or nothing at all. I can’t predict what may happen. I will recommend as we attempt to communicate with and identify spirits, that we treat them with respect. Remember that these spirits were once human and continue to manifest human personalities. We may meet with an angry spirit, or a serene spirit, or nothing at all. And we need to be prepared for whatever we experience.” I looked at each person in the room, and continued.
“It is vital that we all feel strong, confident, and at peace with ourselves. If any of you  have any doubts about this, you should not go with us.”
The confidence that had erupted from last night’s meeting was missing and replaced by quiet contemplation. Yet no one opted out.
“Use your phones for the time and when anything happens. Jo, I want you to note everything that happens and the time it happens as well.” Jo nodded.
“Do any of you have any concerns or questions for Steve?,” asked Howard.
With no response from anyone, Howard issued a “Let’s go!” and we all headed out to the parking lot, loaded into our vehicles and headed over to the cabin. We parked in a small driveway and along the road in front of the home.
It was one of those “A Frame” kit cabins that were popular in the 1970s. There was no front porch or deck, but it had a small room addition on the side. It looked to be in good condition and not as I had expected a haunted house to look. Howard opened the front door and we all filed in.
Mike checked to see if the electricity was on and finding that satisfactory, scanned for unexpected EMF readings. He found two spikes in EMF; one where the stereo system was and another on the wall opposite the fuse box. He unplugged the stereo and kept looking.
Linda set up the Nikon 750 as our main video camera and handed the other video camera to Gary who studied it for a minute and once he felt familiar with its functions, set it down next to him. Then she readied her camera for the unexpected shots.
Finally, I set up the spirit box to record EVPs (electronic voice phenomena) and the REM Pod, another device used to communicate with spirits. Mike explained the protocol for questioning spirits. First we were to greet any spirits and thank them for communicating with us. Then all questions were to require only yes and no responses. All yes responses would be identified by the lights on the REM Pod. At the end of this session, we would say good bye and thank the spirits who had been with us.
The Sun had set by this time and everyone was silent. Jo noticed the nervous silence and put us at ease as she gave us mock breathing exercises. When everything was ready, we all sat around the coffee table. We even had an empty chair ready for any spirit inclined to sit with us.
I looked around at everyone’s faces and feeling that the time was right to start, I began.
“Hello and good evening to any spirit who is not angry, mean or evil.”  I waited a good two minutes, then began asking questions.
“Are their any spirits here with us?”
“Are there any spirits here with us?”

Then Mike suggested, “If there are any spirits here, just move close to this Rem Pod and these lights will turn on.” Mike demonstrated what he meant but there were no responses.
Many more questions were asked and all were ignored, and about 9:00 PM,  Howard stood up and began to apologize to everyone, and as he did so, Linda put her index finger to her lips and pointed at the far corner of the living room next to the fireplace.
A fine mist had begun to form an image of someone or something, and as it took form, the mist seemed to illuminate that corner of the cabin. We were all captivated by this development, and we found ourselves frozen in amazement. The image moved closer, larger and better defined until it turned into a full bodied apparition of a young woman dressed in 70's attire. Her demeanor was one of extreme sadness. She seemed to want us to understand something and repeated whatever that was over and over. Then Laura’s eyes lit up and she announced, “She’s asking us where her baby is. She’s lost her baby.”
“That’s great.” I complained. “What can we tell her?”
“Let’s tell her that her baby is fine and has gone on to Heaven.”
Laura then spoke to the apparition, “Your baby is fine and has moved on to heaven. You can follow her there.” Laura’s ability to communicate with spirits has been of interest, but until now, of no value. This time her words seemed to sooth and satisfy the spirit whose frantic expression was quickly eased, and replaced with a  relaxed smile. Then the spirit just faded away.
After a few minutes of quiet, yet total astonishment we began to celebrate with “high fives” and cheers. We peeked at some of our data and then began packing up. But we were not done yet, not nearly done.
The EMF alarms began to sound off, then came the cold.
“Mike, what is the temperature in here?”
“The temperature is 74 degrees. It’s dropped six degrees in the last five minutes.”
We began to look around and from the storage room door rose another spirit, and this one was different. First it was a male and he had a crazed and frightening look about him. He’d seem to flare up, charge at us, then back up and charge us again. He repeated this over and over, then after a while he backed up to the storage room and pointed to something in the corner. The spirit hovered in that same location, then, as with the last spirit, just faded away.
After a bit we began to look at each other to verify what we’d seen. Then Mike moved to the location where the ghost had been pointing and found that there was some loose base molding. Dropping to his knees, he prodded, wrenched and pulled the loose molding from its position exposing what appeared to be a package rolled up in fabric. He removed the package,  and placed it on the floor where he unrolled the fabric exposing some letters and other paper work. As we began to view and read the contents of the package, a picture began to form in our minds.
Howard looked at the letters and told us that the woman had been having an affair with Roger Wright, the guy who recently purchased this property, and the man for whom we were doing this investigation.
“Here’s something of interest,” Jo offered. “It’s a letter from Roger threatening this couple. He says, If I can’t have you, no one will. I guess she had been trying to break off her relationship with Roger.”
“And here’s receipt for a handgun,” Gary announced. “The husband had sold a Colt 38 Special to Roger and I think it could be the gun that the husband was holding when he was shot.”
“I think the husband was set up!” exclaimed Linda
“And you’d be right.”
I turned to see who that was and it was Roger who was aiming what looked like a .38 Special at us. He was wearing a grim smile and a dangerous smile at that.
“I’ll take those letters,” Roger demanded. “Then we will take a short ride up one of those old logging roads. And the good news is that you will not be paying for your burial. You won’t be needing to do that.”
His countenance turned evil and he motioned to us to go outside and just as he did, Cheyenne had jumped from the back of the truck and leaped up at him, knocking him down, then she latched onto his leg and would not let go. Roger turned so that he could shoot and kill her. But Gary stepped in and kicked the gun away. Linda managed to wrest control of the pistol and threatened to shoot Roger. I pulled Cheyenne off of him, but she lunged again for another taste. As I held her back I yelled at Jo to call 911.
The police arrived and recorded what we had seen and heard. Jo handed the letters and the receipt for the gun to the lead investigator and as soon as we could, we departed the A-Frame cabin. We all agreed to meet at Edna’s Café the next morning, and then we drove ourselves home.
The next morning, Edna’s Café was teeming with customers who had come to learn more about the excitement of the night before. Howard had managed to print most of the story while avoiding the pitfalls of generating an article involving the current investigation. As he arrived, he was subject to, “Good jobs!” and slaps on the back. He sold more papers that day than he had ever sold, and there was more information forthcoming that would be released exclusively to the Chronicle.
At this, Jo stood toasting with her iced tea and suggesting we create the “CrowMac Creek Paranormal Partners” and offer our services to others who’d want to have their homes or businesses investigated. Linda and Laura stood and applauded the suggestion. Howard, Mike, Gary and I remained quiet but smiled and agreed slightly.
So, this is the true beginning of CrowMac Creek Paranormal Partners. Anyway, that’s how the residents of CrowMac Creek and I see it.