This morning I went up to Lookout Mountain to visit the grave of Buffalo Bill Cody. What a view! Snow capped mountains to the west, the foothills and prairie to the East. I walked through the small museum depicting his life and achievements. He was a real showman, and much of the way we think about the Wild West had its routes in his shows.
About the Author
S.E. Schlosser is the author of the Spooky Series published by Globe Pequot Press. She is also the editor of Americanfolklore.net and Worldfolklore.net.
We were all sitting around enjoying another beautiful day of sunshine and warm weather outside our Rat Lake cabin when Tim was struck with an idea. “Why don’t we go for a boat ride this afternoon on Lake Bitabee?” he asked the general populace – which consisted of his fiancé Arlene, myself (his older sister), two little sisters, and our parents. This idea met with general approval from Arlene and myself, but Mom and the younger crowd elected to stay at the lake and Dad wanted to spend the afternoon fishing.
Whew! That 6 hour flight from Newark to Washington is extremely long and cramped. It’s amazing how you can leave at 7:30 am and still be in Seattle before noon!
I got myself through the baggage claim and rental car with minimum of fuss and headed off toward Tacoma, lunch, and Port Defiance State Park. The day was crystal clear, and Mount Rainier loomed fantastically on the horizon as I drove south. I love a place with snow-capped mountains, and I was already loving Washington!
Follow S.E. Schlosser’s trip to Oregon in search of ghost stories, supernatural tales, and of course, Bigfoot! The author takes you day by day through a typical research trip as she discovers the supernatural side of Oregon, in preparation for the writing and publication of the 15th book in the Spooky Series: Spooky Oregon.
My grandfather had a fairly new silver Dodge Saint Regis back when I was a sophomore in college, which eventually became my car when he got a new one. On the particular late-winter weekend of our story, Grandpa was going away for a visit (or perhaps to a conference) and didn’t require the use of his car until late Sunday afternoon. My Dad, on the other hand, needed the use of car – any car — since the Schlosser family vehicle had conked out on him and was in the garage being fixed. My Grandpa offered him the use of the Dodge, and Dad accepted gladly. So Grandpa dropped off the Dodge at our house on Friday evening, leaving it to the tender mercies of my family while he went away.
In the nineteen-thirties and early forties, when my grandmother Mildred was a young woman, she settled in New Jersey with her husband Loyd. They lived in an old green farmhouse surrounded by fields, with few neighbors, and a large white church with a revival-style campground just up the block from their home.
Not too long ago my niece lost another tooth. Being an enterprising child who is not afraid to believe in the tooth fairy if it means receiving money, she stuck it under her pillow. Obedient to custom, her father — Tooth-fairy Tim — did his job well, and in the morning she was richer by one dollar.
It had been one heckuva day. By the time I got home I was practically crawling on my hands and knees, fatigued in mind, body, and spirit. All I wanted was food, a hot bubble bath, and sleep, in that order. I was determined that I would have all three tonight no matter what I had to push off to do it.
I left for my next spooky adventure right from work, hoping to get at least halfway to North Carolina tonight. The weather was cold, but sunny, and the massive George Washington Bridge gleamed in the westering sunlight as I zipped across. I am amazed at the size and beauty of this bridge every time I cross it.
Then I was out of New York, heading across Jersey and through the gorgeous Delaware Water Gap into Pennsylvania. One of the reasons I enjoy road trips like this are the memories of other Spooky trips I have. Traveling through Wilkes-Barre, PA, I remember collecting the story of a coal-miner minstral who returned from the grave to say good-bye to an old friend. Driving past Allentown, I remembered the ghost I actually “met” – or at least heard – while staying at my cousin’s house and visiting her haunted toy room. And of course, passing the battlefields of Gettysburg and Antietam, I remembered the ghost of George Washington who appeared at Little Round Top and the very creepy feeling I had staring at the haunte bridge in Antietam.