Oh, it must’ve been about thirty years since the night I passed through that little town (if you could even call it one). It was a long day of driving and mind you, I didn’t pull over there but just passed on through. My memory’s a little hazy but let me recount the brief experience the best I can…
It was about 10PM and I had driven all day and still had a few hours to go when I pulled into thick woods: lots of moss-covered oak trees and a few houses among them. There were no signs indicating a township, and certainly no other cars out, just bugs. It was summertime.
I kept on down the narrow road as it drew straight through. I passed no other streets, just a handful of driveways. But something caught my eye and I slowed.
I’m not sure how to explain this, but I saw, rather I think I saw someone waving at me. I turned my head and kept my car to a crawl. No one was waving. Then I slammed on my breaks. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at:
A large oak tree with tons of thick branches were covered with people hanging by ropes. There must have been fifty or sixty people hung, all suspended just feet above the ground.
Then my heart nearly exploded when someone banged on my driver’s side window. A pair of hands were floating in mid air and caressed a noose. They petted it like a dog. I put my foot on the gas and the hands bashed the rope against my window and I was out of there.
I left the woods maybe a third of a mile later and eventually the trees were in my rearview. I wasn’t sure what to think but at least wanted to let someone know about the people hanging.
But when I checked into the motel outside Memphis, the man at the desk said that sounded crazy and simply brushed it off after I told him I didn’t know the name of the town. I couldn’t blame him and he probably thought I was crazy, and I didn’t even mention the hands holding that rope.
I suppose none of this is that freaky, but after thirty years I can’t let the thought of that night go. But I think the reason is, whenever I go out for a drive for more than five or six miles in any direction, at any time of day (even in my own county, familiar cities), I end up passing through a thick cluster of oak trees. And before long those people are always hanging in that tree, as if they’re waiting for me.
I don’t drive much anymore, and I am afraid to walk anywhere near trees. And last night I heard a knock on my door, and when I opened it, a noose was sprawled out on my porch.
Not sure what I should do right now…