Ghosts in the Fast Lane

My niece had a most unusual experience several years ago.

 

      “Melody” and a guy friend were driving down an old back road that happened to have a pauper’s cemetery along it. It was on an Easter night, and the rain was coming down in torrents; so hard they could barely make out the road before them.

 

      Suddenly, off to one side of the road, Melody, (the passenger) spotted something eerily different from anything she’d ever seen. For she found herself looking at a ghostly figure of a woman, luminous, and floating in mid-air. Her features were contorted, since her head seemed to be laying out on one shoulder. Her entire body was visible, except she lacked legs.

 

     My niece was absolutely amazed, fearful, anxious, and perhaps a few other conflicting emotions. She screamed, “Mike, did you see that?” To which the young man responded, “See what?”

 

     Melody insisted they turn around. Against his better inclinations, the fellow turned the car around, and went back. This time they both witnessed the ghastly figure. It was the same as before, except the apparition had assumed a slightly different pose. Her head drooped upon her chest.

 

     Mike and Melody must have been “gluttons for punishment” because they turned around once more, and went back a final time. Again, the terrible figure was clearly visible, though the rain was falling even harder now.

 

     Melody’s voice still trembles as she describes the event. Her eyes seem to grow wild and wide, and she shakes her head from side to side. Listening to her, I find I have very little trouble believing her words.

 

     She recited the memory to me in February of this year, and I suggested we drive down the same road on Easter night. Though it’s been over a decade, the experience resides deep in her spirit, and she jumped at the opportunity to prove herself.

 

     Well, reader, we took that short journey, and we saw… absolutely nothing.

 

     Of course, Melody was disappointed, but I encouraged her that I believed her account of that rainy night. Of course, she appreciated my opinion of her veracity, but I could tell; it just wasn’t the same.

 

     It so happened that I began counseling a new couple a few weeks later. “Jim” is a retired highway patrolman, and “Debra” is a deputy sheriff. Since they happened to be from the little town of Homeland, on a whim I thought I’d ask them about my niece’s experience. Their answers surprised me.

 

      Debra responded,

 

     “Yes, I’ve heard a few tales of ghosts on the road.”

 

     And Jim was much more specific.

 

     “Bill, I’ve investigated several accidents on that old road. It seems drivers have run into the ditch trying to avoid a person standing in the middle of the road. As I understand it, a couple of drivers have, seemingly, ran right over a woman. After they have climbed out of their cars, there was no one to be seen.”

 

     Of course, I shared the patrolman’s words with Melody, and she felt so affirmed hearing his account.

 

     Now, I don’t know what I believe about the presence of literal ghosts, but I’m sure we’re all haunted by the ghosts of our pasts.

 

    When I interview new clients, I always ask them to describe their childhood and adolescence. Believe me, I’ve heard some pretty bizarre tales. And so like a soldier that goes to war, we cannot escape those intense experiences; that linger like ghosts in the fading recesses of our pasts.

 

     I consider my own Past to be very nominal, very common and well within “the margins.” But I have had the opportunity, recently, to both recover, and address various childhood memories. And so like “ghosts on the highway,” I’ve encountered them.

 

     I encourage such “ghostly encounters.”

 

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Unconventional Devotions" Copyright 2005