Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Strange Case of the Toy Monkey on a Stick

Author’s note: The following account of a Texas woman’s fear may not be a paranormal story, but it has disturbed her nonetheless. If anyone knows of the custom described below, or has had an encounter similar to Dana’s, please e-mail me at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com.

Screams of laughter and the rush of the Tilt-A-Whirl and mini-roller coaster filled the usually vacant lot on the outskirts of Wichita Falls, Texas, in 1964.

As seven-year-old Dana Talley’s mother walked her down the midway to the carousel, nothing seemed awry in the early Texas evening.

Until Dana boarded the merry-go-round.

“I was riding on the carousel and a group of 10 to 15 oriental young men, early 20s, student types, were watching me and waving to me and smiling,” Dana said.

Young Dana watched the men as one of them approached her mother. The man asked her mother something, and she nodded.

“They asked if they could take pictures of me,” Dana said. “She agreed.”

Flashbulbs flared with their blue light as Dana went round and round on the carousel. Minutes later, the carousel slowed and Dana stepped off.

“When my ride was over and I was back on the ground near my mother, one of the men came over and handed me a little plastic monkey on a stick and thanked me profusely,” Dana said.

Then the men were gone, blending in with the carnival crowd, and Dana didn’t think about the incident again – until 18 years later in 1982.

“When I was 24 I took my seven-year-old son to a little carnival near our home in San Antonio, Texas,” she said. “It was evening and a group of 10 to 15 oriental young men, student types, were watching him on the carousel.”

As Dana stood by the carnival ride, one of the young men approached her.

“One of them came over and asked me if they could take photos of him,” Dana said, not thinking anything more of it. “I said, ‘yes,’ and they did.”

When the ride slowed and her son leapt off to rejoined her, one of the men stepped up to them, knelt, and handed the boy a little monkey doll attached to a stick. The men turned, and disappeared into the street carnival crowd.

Dana’s childhood experience came rushing back.

“Every once in a while I think about the similarities and wonder is it really a coincidence or is there more to it,” she said. “The men were friendly, overly so. There were no bad vibes. It’s just odd.”

The coincidences are too much for her to think they’re wholly separate incidents.

“Each time at a carnival on the merry-go-round. Each time they asked the mother if they could take some pictures. Each time it was a large group of young men. Each time prolific thank yous and meeting the child and the monkey toy,” she said. “Part of me says it is just coincidence; another part of me says, ‘oh, hell no.’ It is just too bizarre.”

Dana has spent years searching the Internet for similar encounters, but has found nothing. She wonders if she’s alone.

“You know, where my mind goes sometimes is wondering if it was some kind of cult thing where they kept tabs on me all those years,” she said. ”Foolish and highly unlikely I know, but it was just so strange. It has bothered me ever since it happened to me with my son.”

Copyright 2010 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt, P.O. Box 501, Maryville, Mo., 64468, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason’s newest book on the paranormal, “Paranormal Missouri: Show Me Your Monsters,” is available at Jason’s blog, from-the-shadows.blogspot.com.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Ride of the Phantom Car

The heat of the June night was oppressive as 20-year-old Christian Hackett drove home.

“It was really hot. One of those hot nights when it’s 90 and the sun’s down,” Hackett, of Parkville, Mo., said.

He sat at the stoplight at Riss Lake Drive and Missouri 45 in Parkville just after midnight, preparing to turn right onto the highway, when he saw a car.

“I pulled up at a red light; there was a car in the lane I was going to turn into,” Hackett said. “I let it pass.”

As the car sped by, Hackett noticed a second car in the distance.

“It looked different than a regular car,” Hackett said. “It was low to the ground. It looked old. When cars get older the headlights don’t look bright.”

Hackett judged the distance between the oncoming car and his own to be safe, and pulled out from the stoplight.

“I saw I had space,” he said. “We were the only two cars on the highway. The car I let pass, I couldn’t even see it.”

As he pulled onto the highway, the lights of the old car quickly filled his rearview mirror. It was closing on him.

“I’m driving and the car that I saw started coming up a whole like faster than what it had been before,” he said. “It got closer and closer.”

After about a half-mile, Hackett pulled into the turning lane at the next intersection, the car in the rearview mirror closing on him uncomfortably fast.

“I heard the car as it was coming,” Hackett said. “I had the radio on, but as the car came closer, I could hear it. I could hear the car over the music.”

As the car’s headlights began to fill Hackett’s cab, he tried to catch a glimpse of the vehicle bearing down on him. He couldn’t see the car, just its lights. Now the fear that had been eating at the corners of Hackett’s mind now sat along side him.

“I was slowing down to turn and as I was turning, the car was getting closer and closer and closer,” he said. “It looked like it was going to hit me and right as it would have hit me, it just vanished.”

Hackett had just pulled into the middle of the intersection when the car disappeared.

“I was driving, but I was like, ‘oh, my God.’ I looked back and there was nothing,” he said. “I swear the car was in the rearview the whole time. It was just gone. I looked behind me, in front of me, on the side road, nothing. It was as if the car just vanished into my car.”

When Hackett regained his bearings, he simply continued driving.

“I double checked, I triple checked and there was no car,” Hackett said. “I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. At the time I was just thinking, ‘what the hell happened?’ I was just really, really confused and scared. I had no idea what had happened.”

Hackett had traveled that section of M-45 often since his family moved to Parkville in 1990 – nothing like this had ever happened to him.

“I’ve probably driven that road a million times and never seen anything,” Hackett said. “I took that to high school every day. It’s a road I can never avoid. I have to take 45 Highway anywhere I need to go. I was probably on that road the next day at 9 or 10 in the morning.”

Although Hackett didn’t talk about this incident to his family, he knew something unexplainable had happened to him. A friend’s childhood stories confirmed to him something was amiss on that road.

“The intersection where I was taking a left on, on the right my friend lived in a farm house there,” Hackett said. “He said he used to see (ghostly) things.”

Legends of phantom cars – vehicles that appear, drive at high speeds, then disappear – have been reported over the past century from Georgia, to Hawaii, to Germany, to South Africa.

However, according to the Platte County Missouri Historical Society, there is no record of phantom car stories from that stretch of road. This news doesn’t deter Hackett.

“This is my first paranormal experience ever. This is the first thing that ever scared the crap out of me,” Hackett said. “But I don’t care if people think I’m crazy. I know what I saw.”

Copyright 2010 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt, P.O. Box 501, Maryville, Mo., 64468, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason’s newest book on the paranormal, “Paranormal Missouri: Show Me Your Monsters,” is available at Jason’s blog, from-the-shadows.blogspot.com.

Thursday, December 09, 2010

Little People in the Night

Legends of little people dance at the periphery of societies around the world. Elves, gnomes, goblins, trolls, ebu gogo, makiawisug, menehune – some of these entities are said to help humans, others kidnap, rob and devour.

Modern tales of these little people come from places like Iceland, Hawaii, the Midwest, Sweden, New Zealand and Colombia, South America. These stories have one thing in common – they are all terrifying.

Fabian Hernandez knows. He’s seen the little people.

Hernandez, 30, a veteran of the U.S. Army 82nd Airborne Division, and his brother, an aircraft engineer, were born in Brooklyn, N.Y., in the 1980s.

“We lived in a small apartment in Brooklyn with our parents,” he said. “I have Native Indian blood from the natives of Colombia, South America, from my mother’s side.”

Due to financial struggles, the family soon moved back to their mother’s home country, Colombia. There, Hernandez saw little people in his room.

Hernandez and his brother were sleeping when a vibration woke Fabian. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

“I can recall seeing a group of small men working around my bed, silently,” Hernandez said. “It was like if I was looking at characters (from another) dimension.”

Hernandez lie in bed, staring at the little men.

“These creatures got the most of me and I started to be more curious,” Hernandez said. “I observed them walking around like if they were working in a mine of some kind, like digging or something.”

The little men were three inches tall and bright white.

“They were minding their own business,” Hernandez said. “The following day I told my parents and I just simply got brushed off. At that time I got a little scared and did not know what to do, so I simply forgot it as time past.”

Four years later, the Hernandez family moved back to Brooklyn.

“I was around the age of nine and my brother was just a few years older then me,” Hernandez said. “We lived in a small apartment where we shared the same bed in our parent’s room.”

One night Hernandez went to sleep early because of the flu. When he woke in the early morning, he saw something he’d seen years before, a continent away.

“I slept against the wall and my brother towards the edge,” he said. “I think it was around two or three in the morning when I noticed a white, long bright light, like when window blinds close and the light comes in.”

Something moved in the light.

“I had awaken my brother laying next to me to see what I was seeing,” he said. “This long, bright light transformed, and my brother said ‘look, it’s moving.’ I said, ‘what is that?’”

Both Hernandez and his brother saw little white figures, about three inches tall, moving in that light.

“They were talking amongst each other, moving around rapidly in a (different) dimension sort of way,” Hernandez said.

The light drew across the ceiling and onto the wall next to Hernandez before it disappeared.

Since this incident, Hernandez hasn’t seen the little people, but the thought of them still frightens him.

“I get the chills talking about it, as (does) my brother,” Hernandez said. “This has been something that has been bothering my brother and I for many years, thinking that it was just my mind or eyes playing tricks on me, but I know it wasn’t a child problem, since my older brother had confirmed it.”

Copyright 2010 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt, P.O. Box 501, Maryville, Mo., 64468, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason’s newest book on the paranormal, “Paranormal Missouri: Show Me Your Monsters,” is available at Jason’s blog, from-the-shadows.blogspot.com.