When I was a kid my grandmother always told me not to go too deeply into the
woods or the boogeyman would get me. The boogeyman, she insisted, lived in the
deepest, darkest area of the woods and he loved snacking on kids who got lost in
those woods. Though I had certainly never seen a boogeyman in the woods or any
place else, my grandmother had lived a lot longer than me and I wasn’t taking
any chances. So, each time I ventured into the woods (which was most everyday
in the summer—usually with my younger brother in tow), I would stop at a certain
point and turn back. I wasn’t risking running into the boogeyman. As a kid,
those types of warnings scared me to death but actually kept me from getting
into trouble.
Then there were the other tales, the ones about certain people or particular
houses. Every community has them. Some folks believe there’s some truth to the
old stories, others insist they’re just stories that maybe evolved from gossip
or flat out lies. The villages along Maine’s southern coast are no different.
There are tales related to unsolved murders and folks who went missing never to
be seen again. Like the tales from my childhood, some are supernatural in their
foundation.
Your story sounds really intriguing. I look forward to reading more.
Here is mine...
When my mother was five, she found a little man who was about a foot tall with a damaged leg. He was lying in a nearby hay field on the farm where my mother grew up and she decided to carry him home and get help for him. Her little brother walked along with her and kept insisting that he also wanted a chance to carry this extraordinary little man clothed in a leafgreen suit. My mother finally relented and reached down to give him to her brother. But, in the moment of transfer, the wee man jumped from her brother’s little fingers and disappeared in the long grass never to be seen again.
This is the story I remember the most from my mother as a young child and I would spend countless days wandering in meadows and woods to see if I also could find tiny people and building little houses from leaves and twigs for them to enjoy. If she warned me about bogeymen or of dangers that could happen, they didn’t make an impact on my mind as I certainly don’t recall. I just remember a stern warning never to be late for supper and not to go beyond certain boundaries.
But, one hot summer day, when I was six and my sister four, I was drawn to the cool pool of green water in an old quarry that laid well beyond our usual boundaries. We just wanted to dip our toes in and maybe slash a bit. It was refreshing and fun until tall shadows blocked our view. It was a gang of teenagers who didn’t want two little white kids in their turf.
They forced us deeper and deeper into the water until my feet couldn’t touch water and then they keep pushing my head under and holding me down till I couldn’t breathe. Then, a shout and my head bobbed up. I saw my mother, but her white blouse was torn and covered in red stains. Then, I was pushed under again.
After that, I just have a brief flash of memory of a policeman giving me a beautiful colouring book and a fresh pack of 16 Crayola crayons (Audrey Lawrence 8:59am January 16, 2009)
I don't really have anything like that but I used to live in South Africa. I remember walking to school every day and walking back everyday. I had to walk past this paper mill and one day I was by myself. All I remember was they gave me all kinds of writing paper and pencils and pens. About a year later we moved to America. I didn't find out until later that our housekeeper had found out that they were giving me paper everyday and had planned to abduct me. Apparently the police were called in but I just don't remember because I was so small. (Val Pearson 11:15am January 16, 2009)
Audrey, wow! What great stories. As a kid I was terrified of getting pushed under the water. (Debra Webb 11:56am January 16, 2009)
Val, that's wild! Thank goodness you got away safely. That has to be the scariest part of being a parent. You see in the news where children are lured in like that. Makes me shiver! (Debra Webb 11:59am January 16, 2009)
Due to my family being very religious, they did not believe in ghosts or the boogeyman. I love reading stories of them but have no personal experiences to share. I wish I did, so I could be entered into the contest. I would love the book. Thanks for you time. (Roberta Harwell 12:21pm January 16, 2009)
Roberta, Thanks for dropping by just the same! It's wonderful to hear from you! (Debra Webb 1:35pm January 16, 2009)
My parents started building a house in the country in PA, then had to relocate. The house was a 2-story, cement block home with a full basement. Several years later, my husband and I decided to finish off the first floor. I lived there for several years. At times, we would feel an extreme cold feeling, even on the hottest day of the summer. We had it checked out for drafts, fireplace drafts, etc., but everyone said there was no reason for the feelings and said it must have been from watching spooky shows (which we never did) or an overactive imagination. We would just leave the house for about an hour, and when we went back in, everything would be OK. It didn't matter where in the house we were, either on the main floor or in the basement. Others would feel it too, without us saying anything. The neighbors told us that that area used to be an Indian burial ground, but I could never find proof of that. The feeling was never that it (the ghost or spirit) would hurt us but just wanted us out of the house for some reason or another. After we left and my parents died, I sold the property. The second story was eventually completed, but the house was sold several times. I truly believe that house was haunted. (Patricia Baldwin 9:25am January 17, 2009)
Patricia, We had a house like that when I was a kid. My brother and I NEVER went in the basement or to the unfinished upstairs alone and NEVER, EVER after dark! It was just too creepy. Imagination, maybe. (Debra Webb 2:31am January 18, 2009)
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