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oh the stopping point is near an old ruined homestead.

::puttering hay ride though the forest, a few strange flickers of light in the forest, over some hills, stopping by a grove of trees, an old gate in the fence spotlighted by the tractor's lights::

see that old gate, kids?

that leads into old man williams place. we have to go through there to get out.

anyone want to hear the story of old man williams...

::turns off tractor and light;;

well, old man williams wasn't always old. way back in 1859 he was born to john and emma williams of virginia. when he was two years old the beating of war drums ushered in the civil war. off marched little johnny's ( i know. i couldn't help it) father and 2 uncles. his two uncles fell on the first day at gettysburg. the news reached home several months later. at one home his aunt edna could not bear the strain and it soon drove her mad. the second year of the war johnny's other aunt succombed to the fever. in those days letters were rare but johnny's mom and father wrote each other religiously. then one day johnny's mother gets the letter she had always dreaded. john sr, was dead. the war ended the next month. even though he was six, johnny worked every odd job he could find to help his mother. {I need to kill her off now, hep me hep me}

little johnny was alone in the world. he was tossed into an orphanage. in those days these weren't the most fun places to be. there wasn't much food and what was there was just horrid. if you were bad you were beaten. when he was ten johnny escaped. he bounced about doing this job and that. slowly traveling west riding the wave of settlers and their covered wagons. he arrived in st louis as a young lad of 18. John found a job loading wagons for a local drygood merchant and promptly fell in love with his daughter. when he was 21 they were married and john continues to work in the shop for his FIL. he had never been happier and thought he could never BE happier untill the birth of their twins, a boy and a girl. John had a family again.

in 1889 a flyer flamed john's imagination. the government was giving away land in oklahoma territory. this was his chance to have a place of his very own for his family. so... that april morning john's horse joined thousands other at the starting line just 10 miles from here. a gun shot rang out and they were off, racing for a new chance, racing for their families, their fortunes, their fame. unfortunately there were many people that left sooner. everywhere john looked was taken except this place. he couldn't believe it wasn't taken! he staked his claim and filed at the courthouse. then he and his family began their homestead... they built their house up on that little hill right over there. what john didn't know was there was much talk of this spot of bottom land in the sooner camps. several had tried, all returned with strange tales of strange chills, the noise of drums beating... what none of them knew was the little hill isn't a hill at all. it's an ancient indian burial mound.

williams and his wife carved out a place for themselves and the twins. they cleared forest, plowed the riverbotton and planted their first crop. things were tough but they were able to live off the land. strange things seemed common to this place. williams would swear he put his wagon in the barn evening and would find it outside the next morning... the chills... the drums. williams and his wife ignored these things because they were so happy. they just chalked it up to bad memories and beavers slapping their tails.

when the twins were turning 9. they had a bumper crop. williams would finally be able to afford to buy them real birthday presents! he hitched up the team and wagon and headed off to town with his harvest waving at his wife and twins. as he rounded the bend in the road he imagines he could her drums. after a day a bartering and dickering, he turned his wagon north loaded with presents and supplies. williams arrived here about an hour after dark and was greeted with the cheery glow of a lantern in the window and an open front door. he rushed in with the gifts for the kids... but there was no one there! he called out for them... there was no answer. williams grabbed the lantern from the window and rushed into the night. he searched everywhere...in the barn... in those woods over there... in that marshy area... calling their names. but to no avail.

williams was alone again. from that day forward every day and night he searched for his wife... his 9 year old boy... and his nine year old girl. days turned into weeks... weeks turned into years. the homestead and barn slowly fell piece by piece, fields returned to prairie,... years turned into decades and the cleared mound returned to the forested hill in front of us now. old man williams lived like a half man half beast. passers by would report the glow of old man william's lantern and his cries for his family. old man williams died about this time of year in 1943. the weird thing is the reports of the the glow of his lantern continued... and to this day people say that old man williams stil searches for his wife and 9 year olds. I never took much stock in this untill one night about fifteen years ago. I was here by myself as it was gwoing dark and suddenly I was hit with a freezing wind even though it was the middle of summer and up on the mound I could see the glow of a lantern. I climbedin my truck and drove out of here as fast as I could!

well, time to go through.

::turns on tractor light spotlighting gate::

::walks to gate in the light::


hey! what's that?!?!?

::pointing my flashlight to the hill in front of us::



::oldest boy and one of my peeps jumping out from grove of trees behind the trailor screaming::


me; ssts.




editors get to work. I need this back by 2 tomorrow central time.