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Thursday, April 13th, 2006
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6:09p
I consider myself a skeptic. I don't believe in the supernatural, exactly, or ghosts. I believe in the preturnatural, in things that have perfectly good explanations that are unknown to us at this time. Heck, comets and eclipses used to be considered supernatural events. So I tend to scoff at reports of hauntings, and though I do think they're good stories, I think they're just that - stories.
But I'm never going back to the Ludlow Monument again.
ETA: Now that I'm a little less creeped out - I'm sure there's a logical explanation for everything, but it was still scary as hell. And I don't scare easy.
I pulled up to the monument, which is unstaffed most of the time. I was the only one there and during my time there not one single car passed by. There are two fenced areas, one within the other; the smaller one holds the monument and the Death Pit.
It was about 90 degrees out and windy. When I went into the larger of the fenced areas, there was no wind. I'd love to blame it on wierdness of wind currents and bad timing, really. The area had a somber feel, which massacre sites tend to do. I took a couple of pictures, and went into the smaller of the fenced areas. It was very hard to get into, because the latch for the iron gate was stuck fast. I had to pound on that sucker to get it loose. The latch finally went up - it was rusted and a bit warped, and once inside the gate, I had to pound on it again to get the latch into its slot. I didn't want the gate to come loose once the wind started up again.
Right away, I noticed that it was now pleasantly cool, about 60 degrees instead of 90. I'd love to blame it on a shady spot. And maybe a secret underground supply of dry ice. Or something. I also felt - I don't know, it was like this weight was put on me, emotionally, the second I stepped into that area. I'd expected it to be solemn, but it just felt like I'd been kicked and I could barely breathe. The statue of the woman in the monument was holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. I thought it was odd that they hadn't wilted, as it was a very, very hot day. But I shrugged it off again. It was a good 30 degrees cooler than outside the iron fence (and, I might add, at least 20 degrees cooler than the shaded concrete picnic area nearby). Maybe the flowers hadn't gotten much sun. Even though the sun was shining directly on them and most of the fenced area. At this point, the latch on the fence raised - I heard it shriek and looked at it to see the gate slowly open, latch frozen in the up position. Oh well, maybe I hadn't closed it as well as I thought. So I went over there and pounded the latch back down again, and it was much harder this time, and closed the gate.
So then I opened the hatch to the Death Pit. I'd done a little research beforehand, and as far as I know, the UMW (who runs the monument) actually does want visitors to go into the pit to get the full impact of what happened. The pit itself was very, very tiny, and down a few steep stairs which the UMW had put in concrete to preserve the area. (There are other pits and remnants of the burned tent city in an archaeological excavation site elsewhere, and there is a bulletin board explaining it.)
I took a few pictures of the pit from the last step, but I couldn't go in. I don't know what it was, but I could not make myself go in there. The overall oppressive feeling just got worse and worse, to the point where I could not stand to take another step. The pit seemed kind of illuminated from within, which is wierd because it's not lit in any way. It looked kinda like the last few scenes in Blair Witch. I skedaddled out of the pit and started to close the hatch.
And the gate latch was frozen in the up position again, and the gate was opening.
I decided to get out of there, and I put a rock on one of the monument steps as remembrance, and said "recquiescat in pace" to appease whatever the hell it was that was freaking me out. And when I did that, a gentle breeze blew past my ear, which I noticed because the air had been completely still inside the area up to that point, and I swear I heard a woman's voice say something, maybe "Amen" but it wasn't quite clear. It was clear enough, though, that I looked around to see if other visitors had come in while I was in the Pit, and nobody was there.
And when I left, I closed the damn gate. The second I left the larger fenced area, the wind was still going.
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