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Bill Woodier

© 2010 Bill Woodier

Story sent in via email November 9, 2010

I was looking for a place to park one night in the summer of 1966 with my girlfriend (she would later become my wife of over 41 years) when we found the cable not hooked across the entrance to the cemetery access road. I would be leaving for the Marines and Vietnam in a little over a month, which is why I remember the time period so well. Anyway, we drove down the road in my dad's 59 Impala Sport Coupe and parked at the very end of the old road, right up against the bushes and the berm (for lack of a better term) near where the old bridge was.

After about 10 minutes or so, it sounded like something hitting the car. I thought it might be acorns falling off the trees and I got out of the car to check it out. I walked right up to the ravine where the creek ran and looked down into it but it was very dark and I couldn't see anything. I was going to work my way down into it but since I had no flashlight and nothing but an old ice scraper in the car, I thought better of it.

I heard another "tick" on the hood of the car and looked up toward the top of the trees when something hit me square in the lower chest. I realized instantly that nothing falling from the tree could have hit me there and that someone was throwing something at us. I got mad and started down into the ravine calling out for whomever it was to show themselves but no one did. My girlfriend was freaking out now and called me back to the car. I had just turned around at the top of the ravine and started walking back when a good sized rock (about an inch in diameter) hit me square in the back...I saw it hit the ground. I realized that whomever it was down there was not intimidated by my display of bravado so I picked it up, threw it back in the direction I assumed it had come from, ran like hell to the car, and we left.....quickly. As I recall, I backed all the way town to the main road (143rd st) before turning around on the main road and leaving.

I never knew what it was and didn't go back again to look. It was probably some pervert hiding in the ravine getting his kicks from harassing lovers. It worked on me as it definitely raised the hair on the back of my neck. I think that was the last time I was down by the cemetery until we took the kids back there one afternoon in the summer of 1996.