Ghost stories

Published by: e_monster


Its the spooky time of year so I thought I'd rehash my favorite ghost story.  

Have I ever seen a ghost? No. Have I ever felt a presence? Read on...


Back in 1993 e_monster ventured down the Colorado River through Grand Canyon National Park on a commercially guided river raft trip. It was a marvelous adventure: a spectacle of exciting river rapids, natural history, and stunning canyon scenery each day.

On end of the fourth day in the canyon our group of rafts pulled off the river to camp on a beach near the confluence of the main Colorado River and the Little Colorado River, an area of tall cliffs and painted bluffs. We enjoyed a barbeque dinner on the beach and watched the stars come out after dark. It was a warm, picturesque, and otherwise peaceful spot to camp. I enjoyed several glasses of wine as the moon rose over the bluffs above us.

Eventually it was time for me to sleep. It had been a long day. I unrolled my sleeping bag on a flat spot on the sand and collapsed onto it, weary from the day's adventures. I thought sleep would come quickly but it didn't. I tossed and turned on my sleeping pad for hours in a fitful attempt at rest. When my eyes did temporarily close, my dreams were disturbed by strong sensations of tension and anxiety. A terrifying feeling of helpless falling. And flames. Screams. I kept awakening through the night, unable to truly rest. The full moon glared down on me from overhead.

The next morning during coffee one of the river guides asked me how I'd slept. "Terrible," I explained to him: It was a night of bad dreams and anxiety. I felt like I was falling in the night. Flames. Death. 

His face turned white at my mention of falling and death.
 
"Do you know what we call this beach?" he asked.
 
"No."

"Crash camp" he replied. 


He went on to explain that in 1956 two propeller driven airliners had collided in mid-air 18,000 feet over this spot. One crashed straight down in flames. The other staggered on briefly before losing control and crashing into a bluff nearby (see YouTube video below). 

Over 120 people were killed in the accident, the worst of its kind at that time. Many remains were impossible to identify.







The guide pointed to the bluffs overhead. Reflecting the morning sun were broken glass and twisted metal shards scattered among the rocks and cactus above us. The wreckage of the airliners had never been fully removed because so many of the cliffs were so steep and dangerous. Wreckage remains there to this day.

  


In the aftermath, the sense of the history of the tragedy and my uncomfortable night never left me. 

The area is commemorated with markers today.







Had e_monster felt the tragic ghostly presence of the lost during the anxious night by the river? Or was it the wine and full moon?

How about you, readers? Have you ever felt or seen such an unnerving presence of the supernatural? 




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