Lonely Backroads – Ghost Story
These events were experienced by my mother and father many years ago,(1959) and for as long as I can remember, they have sworn it to be true. My dad, bless him (I really miss him, you know), was always a yarn spinner, but I have verified all the facts with my mother, who is a much more serious minded person. Whatever, this is the story, to the best of my recollection.
In the late 50's and early 60's, my parents owned and operated a small restaurant and bar. They had contracted a concession stand for a local church's annual three day meeting (An Association Meeting, or May Meeting, it was called). To keep the drinks and ice-cream cold, they needed dry ice, which was sold in Saltville, several miles from our hometown. The meetings started early, so to have the ice and concessions ready, it required a late night/early morning trip to the dry ice plant, which opened around 5 AM. They planned to be there when the plant opened, and back home in time for the meeting the following morning.
They left home around 2 AM. and made good time. It was a very bright moonlit night-bright enough to read time on my Dad's pocket watch. (This is important, since visibility plays an important role in the events to come.
After taking a coffee break in a church lot at around 3:30-4:00, they continued on their way, but somehow took the wrong turn-off and ended up on a lonely one lane road in the middle of no where. As they rounded a curve in the road, where a fairly high embankment was on the right side, they noticed a movement in the headlights on the embankment. My Dad thought that it might be a deer, and slowed the car for my mother to get a better look.
Suddenly, a “creature” sprung from the embankment to the road, headed directly for the front window of the car. It looked as if it would crash right through the window and into the front seat. Instead, with a twist of its body, and a spin of its front arms, it changed course, and came to land beside the car on the passenger side. When my mother turned to look, it's face was pressed against the passenger window,only inches away from her. The description of this creature is as follows: Light, taffy coloured hair, with a white blaze down it's neck and underbelly. It stood on two large, well muscled back legs, and had shorter front legs or arms. No tail was visible. When it landed beside the car, my father hit the gas and sped up–the creature kept up with the car for a short while, but then fell behind-but never stopped chasing the vehicle, grasping for the car with it's front paws.
Hitting a straight patch of road, and putting some little distance between the car and the creature, my father stopped the car and withdrew a pistol that he always carried, planning on shooting the “monster”. My mother pleaded hysterically with him not to fire, for she feared that a shot might not stop the creature, and enrage it more. Giving in, my dad got back in the car, and took off as fast as he could, finally losing the creature from sight, and not stopping to see if it wanted to catch up (g). They continued down the road, finally finding their way to the ice plant, and getting their ice, returned home. When they examined the car, three long scratches were found on the passenger side, from the front door to the rear, all the way into the bright under-metal. They vow ( and I believe them) that this was no bear, or dog, or even an escaped kangaroo (as someone once suggested), but something completely unknown and unexplainable.
Several days after this incident, two nurses in the Saltville area were driving home from work early one morning, and were attacked by an unknown creature who ripped the convertible top from their car before they escaped. A search party was formed, but the dogs brought in to track the creature refused to follow the trail. It has never been explained. I believe in Demons, but don't think that was what they saw, but some unknown animal (Virginia's version of Bigfoot, perhaps?) Who can say. All I know is, I hate driving down country roads after dark with the windows rolled down.
© Paulette Boyd
