Evil, unseen presence

I am long overdue to journal the paranormal experiences I have had, and as few as they are, it's really not a tall order.

I want to start with the most terrifying experience, as it has always stood out among the other memories. I was 14, and we had just rented a house in Parker City, Indiana. (Incidentally, Parker City was darkest feeling place I've ever lived and all my negative paranormal experiences took place there.) There was something wrong with this house; I was always scared. At the time, however, I didn't have the knowledge to pray over or bless the house.

One night I had just gotten in bed, and lay awake waiting for sleep to come. Unlike some people, it has always taken me a good 20 minutes to go to sleep and I have never been able to drop off without realizing it. So I was wide awake and suddenly I became afraid. Although I couldn't see it, I felt there was something at the foot of my bed. As I considered this, my fear grew to an unprecedented level, growing still until it felt like something physical that enveloped me and coursed through me. I became literally paralyzed -- not "too scared to move," but literally physically, paralyzed -- and I felt completely weightless. My memory is that my vision went dark or entered some fuzziness; I could see nothing. All I know for sure is that I was in some other state in which it seemed sheer horror had manifested itself as an entity that physically possessed me. After what was probably a few seconds of this feeling, in which I lay in a state of terror and paralysis, the feeling left. I felt my weight again, I could move again, and I bolted out of my room. I crashed in my parent's room for the rest of night.

In discussing these things with my parents, I learned that they too had felt uneasy in the house. A couple that had visited one week reported something bumping against the bed in the night. We never knew what was wrong with the house, and fortunately, we did not stay there long.

Tarantula

This tarantula paid us a visit one evening on the back porch. He walked right up to Richie, then hid under the umbrella for a short nap, or meditation, or whatever he was doing. I was so excited to see a real tarantula that I took pictures. (Growing up in the east, you only see tarantulas in display cases at fairs and things.)

Japanese Beetle

This pretty little guy was on the porch on his back, and by all appearances dead (curled legs). I touched him and his legs uncurled, but he needed help turning over. I could tell he had been there for a long time and would probably have died soon if I hadn't found him. I turned him over and gave him some water, and he drank and drank, and finally left.

Gone too soon

This beautiful vulture showed up on our back porch last Saturday. It had an injured wing, and I called everyone I knew for help, including the game warden, who turned out to be out of town. Fortunately, my priest, an expert falconer, was willing to come help. He said to feed the bird some raw meat, and try to capture it. We were unable to capture it, but it enjoyed the raw chicken I gave it, and drank more water than I thought its stomach could possibly have held. My priest finally came and easily caught it, even avoiding the vomit the bird spewed in defense -- twice! He took it to Last Chance Forever, an organization in San Antonio that rescues and rehabilitates birds of prey. A few days later, I called to check on the bird's status, and it turns out he had had to be put down. The vet said there was too much dead bone and it had protruded through the skin. Federal law requires that if you cannot return it to the wild, it must be put down. They said it was an old injury, and the bird had been going hungry for awhile as it had insects in its belly. I just felt sick. I wished I hadn't called anyone, but continued to feed and water it for the rest of its life. However, my husband said it might have died from gangrene, and so I'm glad we saved it from a slow death. I was also comforted that it had eaten a lot of rabbit the night before my priest had taken it to LCF. The bitterness of not being able to save the vulture was softened by the knowledge that it knew mercy and a good meal before it went to God.

Digger

While driving to town recently, I saw this delightful sight out my window. I hope the driver wouldn't mind, but it brought a smile to my face and I sneaked a picture at the stoplight. Digger sat up for the occasion, but preferred to lie low when moving at normal speed.

Charleston

I was just looking out at the cement plant across the field from our beautiful view, and noticing how lovely it glows in the darkness. It is white with a light on top and the area around it is illuminated. And it is set so prettily in its green field among the trees it made me think of my month in Charleston -- that cluster of mountains and steel buildings, bridges and lights, all set on the river, co-existing like radically different siblings that somehow all fit in the family. I remember driving the interstate every morning as the early morning fog was still rising from the valleys, and the sun was peeking over the hills. It was so beautiful. I had my coffee and would listen to U2s "Arms Around the World."

I remember visiting the riverside a few times, a beauty I didn't fully appreciate until I moved to Huntington where they had walled off the river. I remember, of course, excursions to Taylor books downtown, one of the many crowded shops set on cobblestone, where Nathan and I would sit over tea or wine amid the books and clustered mismatched couches and chairs.

I remember working at the capitol building with Frances and the other girls in the Vital Statistics office. Brenda is the only other name I remember. But there was the serious, spiritual black lady, and the smoker, who always liked to me to go out with her while she smoked. Frances and I hit it off with everyone so well that when our one month as temps was up, they all threw us a going-away party. Good grief. We photo-copied our faces on the Xerox machine and exchanged addresses. And I, regretfully, lost hers and have never been able to find her since.

It's funny how the best memories, like this one, are often of a time when I wasn't really being productive, I wasn't working on a long-term goal. I was working a mindless, low-paying job and simply trying to stretch the time as thin as possible before I returned to Kentucky. I never suspected that brief month would be one I would look back on so fondly. I just wish I had savored Charleston a little more, because it would be years after I left that I would look back and realize how beautiful it all was.

Click Beetle

This little guy was crawling on my back porch this morning. He is a "click beetle", a beetle that makes a loud clicking noise by snapping its back. I researched click bugs and found that he is unusually large. The post-it note in the second pic is a standard sized post-it. So this bug was just a little shorter than my index finger.