Hey, Readers. Welcome to another Mystery Monday post. This month’s topics are personal experiences or family stories.
I’ve always maintained the sixties and seventies were the best decades to grow up. Every generation feels this way, but life was simpler in those days. We didn’t have cable TV, cell phones, or video games. In summer, we played outside all day and never had a problem entertaining ourselves.
For me, forty acres of woods and fields was an ideal place. I climbed trees, waded in our creek, and rode a bicycle (on the road). Even though our house was only four miles from the nearest small town, with no nearby neighbors, I sometimes only saw friends when we went to church on Sundays. That was okay because I had an active imagination.
But on this particular summer afternoon, I heard something that wasn’t my imagination. It was late in the day, probably after dinner, when I went outside to play at the barn. It stood about thirty feet behind the house. Mom and Dad were inside. My brother wasn’t home. In those days, we didn’t have air conditioning, so we kept the windows open.
I was behind the barn when I heard someone call out my name. “Joan, Joan!” Thinking it was my dad, I hurried back to the house.
“Did you call me?” I asked.
“But someone called my name. I was at the barn, and I heard it.”
Both Mom and Dad could see I was sincere and not making up a story. I can’t recall if Dad went to check, but I stayed inside the rest of the evening. We never knew who called my name.
A path in the woods between my brother’s cabin and my house. (My own photo)
This wasn’t the only time we heard unexplained voices on our property. Years later, my brother built a small cabin near our creek. One day, he was outside when he heard someone plainly say, “What are you doing?” No one was around.
Sound travels, and by this time we had closer neighbors. It could have been an echo. Then again, maybe not.
In the late 1970s, during an ice storm, Dad fell and broke his hip. Mom, my brother, and I were in the house. When Dad was unable to get up, he called out for help. Not to Mom and not to my brother. His words? “Joan, Joan!”
It was much like that summer afternoon when I was a child. I’ve often thought the voice I heard that day was a premonition of things to come.
I still live on the family property, but I haven’t heard any more unexplained voices.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the personal stories this month. Next week is Memorial Day, so I won’t be posting then. June is a busy time for me as I’m editing not one, but two pieces of fiction – a novel and a novella, so I’m taking a break from writing Mystery Monday posts then. They take a lot of time and research, so with my busy publishing schedule this year, I need to focus on that. I’m also going back to a twice-monthly schedule for Mystery Monday and Legends and Lore.
The next Mystery Monday will be in July. I may have a random post or two during the month of June, otherwise, I’ll see you at the end of the month with my book reviews.
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