RustyRelics
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- Apr 5, 2019
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- Location
- Central PA
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- Equinox 600/Ancient Whites MXT
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Let me start by saying this: I do not believe in spooks, ghosts, apparitions and the like. I need to see it for myself in order to believe it.
My dad was telling me about two ghostly experiences. One of which baffles him to this day.
When he and my mom visited Gettysburg before I was born, they decided to visit Devils Den. They were at the park really early, at 5:30. They were walking toward the boulders as the sun began to come up. It was late July.
All of a sudden, a misty fog rolled in, and it began to get cold. They really didn't think anything of it. Then, just as the sun crested a distant hill, my dad heard drums. He thought he was imagining it, but my mom said she heard it too. They walked toward the the sound of the drums. Gradually they began to get louder, and my dad recognized it as the call to battle. When they got within 100 feet of where they heard the drums, the noise faded away, and the fog disappeared too. They drove around for hours looking for the mystery drummer, but without any luck.
On an even earlier occasion, my dad had a friend who lived near the heaviest fought over place on the wilderness battlefield. He got permission to detect there, but because of his job, he always went just before dark, and quit at around ten. A Yankee trench ran through the backyard, and he spent hours digging shot rebel bullets. Then, he dug up one bullet in the trench, and when he did, he felt immediately afraid to look up. He didn't know why. Then, a cold wisp of air touched his face, even though it was still about 75 degree's. After that experience, he never detected there again. I think he was crazy. With that much bullets, I would be in there come hell, ghosts or high water...
I asked him if he believes in ghosts. He said "not one bit. There are rational explanations for those occurrences, but I am not the one to explain them." I think that just about summed it up.
My dad was telling me about two ghostly experiences. One of which baffles him to this day.
When he and my mom visited Gettysburg before I was born, they decided to visit Devils Den. They were at the park really early, at 5:30. They were walking toward the boulders as the sun began to come up. It was late July.
All of a sudden, a misty fog rolled in, and it began to get cold. They really didn't think anything of it. Then, just as the sun crested a distant hill, my dad heard drums. He thought he was imagining it, but my mom said she heard it too. They walked toward the the sound of the drums. Gradually they began to get louder, and my dad recognized it as the call to battle. When they got within 100 feet of where they heard the drums, the noise faded away, and the fog disappeared too. They drove around for hours looking for the mystery drummer, but without any luck.
On an even earlier occasion, my dad had a friend who lived near the heaviest fought over place on the wilderness battlefield. He got permission to detect there, but because of his job, he always went just before dark, and quit at around ten. A Yankee trench ran through the backyard, and he spent hours digging shot rebel bullets. Then, he dug up one bullet in the trench, and when he did, he felt immediately afraid to look up. He didn't know why. Then, a cold wisp of air touched his face, even though it was still about 75 degree's. After that experience, he never detected there again. I think he was crazy. With that much bullets, I would be in there come hell, ghosts or high water...
I asked him if he believes in ghosts. He said "not one bit. There are rational explanations for those occurrences, but I am not the one to explain them." I think that just about summed it up.