Sunday, October 23, 2011

The story below was inspired by the spirit of a young early Old Town Fort Collins resident. His body was sent to a morgue after his unfortunate death in this frontier town, a location that Haunted History After Dark visits on their tour. The spirit of this young man appeared to Haunted History After Dark tour guide and nationally known psychic, Grace Cooley, just a little over a month ago. He is lost and scared and searching. Although Grace has communicated with him and attempted to send him to the other side, he returns. Grace has spent much time communicating with him and will eventually give him confidence to go to the "other side". On our tours we encounter many lost spirits, this particular spirit grabbed our heart strings. We hope the story below will provide a new understanding to some of the hauntings in Old Town Fort Collins. Thank you so much to all of our guests and supporters. You are making history every night you take our tours. Your amazing stories that you share with us become a part of the extraordinary town we call Fort Collins.
Stepping off the wooden sidewalk I saw,
a horse and a wagon. I thought it was Pa.
I yelled, “Pop wait!” But before I knew
My momma’s worst nightmare had all but come true.
People gathered round a young body in the dirt avenue,
From the tops of the buildings I watched some of the people I knew.
They carried the body to an old Oak tree,
Why were they so sad when I felt so free.
I witnessed a body that once held my soul,
Be put in a carriage, pulled by a bay mare and her young foal.
Confused by all the excitement,
I watched my limp frame go under strange treatment.
Behind a glass door my mother cried,
While a man in a white jacket prodded and pried.
I don’t remember much after this event,
But more folks have arrived and yelled and prayed at other bodies to “Repent!”
I stay in this place where I last saw my ma,
I know she’ll come get me, both her and pa.
Momma always told me to keep myself safe,
So I crouch in the corners, recesses and I found a dark place,
At this structure where I last saw her face.
Sometimes I’ll venture to look for her and walk towards the door,
My legs feel so light and don’t quite hit the floor.
Momma was right, because when I do this I hear people scream,
And they comfort each other, and say “it was only a dream.”
Many more have come to this place where I wait.
Old and young…we don’t know our fate.
A familiar face comes, a man Poppa once knew,
I go to him for comfort, but his face is all blue.
He notices me and says things will be “okay.”
Then I hear people sob and begin to pray.
I don’t know why, but I give people a fright,
So, I’ll be a good boy and come out only at night.




1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wow, what a hauntingly beautiful story...:)