MY MICHIGAN FAMILY GHOST STORY

After World War II ended, my father Lee (Buster), decided to study accounting at Ferris State College in Big Rapids Michigan. He and my mother, Dorothy, rented several apartments over the years they spent in Big Rapids most of them, were really old and in bad shape. Finally, they settled into an old house on Bjornson Street with my sisters 2 year old Trina and, six year old Sandy. A friend of theirs, an English woman named Maureen with two little boys of her own, agreed to rent one of the rooms in the house to help defray costs. Maureen had husband who was still in the service but, she and her two sons had moved to America to her husband’s home town.

The two families, 3 adults and 4 children, liked the old house at first. It was near the campus and the factory where my father worked nights. My mother had a part time job at a restaurant just off the main campus. After a few days, things began to change at the old house. Late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, there were footsteps heard, slowing coming up the creaking stairway. Whenever anyone looked, no one was ever there.

One night, Sandy was in the bathroom and, when she looked in the mirror, there was a large man standing behind her in a black trench coat with a large hat. She did not see any face under the hat. She screamed and screamed until my mother and her friend Maureen ran into the bathroom. The two women did not see any man in a trench coat. They calmed down my sister and gathered all the children together in the master bedroom while the two ladies searched the house.

My mother and her friend Maureen decided to first check out the front door to see if maybe some bum had wandered in off the street. It was winter and had been snowing outside so, someone might have tried to get warm at the first place they came upon. The front door was made of oak and was bolted shut from the inside. My mother lifted the bolt and opened the door. Both women were shocked to find a set of men’s footprints in the fresh fallen snow. It was the only pair of footprints and had to have been made recently since the snow was coming down hard. The scary thing was the set of men’s tracks led all the way up to the door and that was it. There was no sign of any tracks leading away from the house only up to the door. But, the man could not have gotten into the house because the door was bolted shut from the inside.

My mother and her friend were now quite worried and after checking on the children again, they went on a room by room search, checking all the other doors and windows first downstairs, then upstairs, then finally, they went up to the attic.The attic was full of old cloths and old furniture but, there was no man in a trench coat.

No one slept the rest of the night and, when my father got home in the morning from his job; he immediately researched the entire house and found no man in a trench coat. My father went outside to take a look around the house when he noticed that the old couple across the street, who were always watching out their front window, was outside standing in the snow. They seemed agitated and he couldn't’t tell if it was from the cold or if they wanted to say something to him. My father went over to them and asked them if they had seen anything or anyone peculiar hanging around the outside of the house. The old couple replied that 'there was some really strange stuff that went on in that house". They told him a man had murdered his wife and family there with an ax. Then, he hung himself. “That place is haunted and you had better get out of there.” They warned my father.

My parents and their friend Maureen found another place to live and moved out that day. Several years latter when my niece was attending Ferris State College, she went to visit the old haunted house at the location my mother had told her. My niece reported that it was still standing and, no one was living there or had lived there in a very long time.

CARNIVORES IN THE CORN MAZE

This time of year, the corn maze is a popular stop for many people looking for some fall fun. This year I received a call from the Van Wooten farm which is located in Grand Traverse County. The caller was Mr. Van Wooten .He was very concerned that some of their guests have been going into the corn maze but never coming out. The parking area was full of vehicles and Mr. Van Wooten was afraid that he would have to take out a mortgage on his farm to pay to have all the vehicles towed away. I asked him how many cars and trucks he was talking about and he replied that at last count there were 37 abandoned vehicles. I agreed to investigate the mystery of the missing guest. Gerrard, a coworker, agreed to help me look around the Van Wooten farm.

The Van Wooten farm has one of the most popular and difficult to navigate corn mazes in the area. The Van Wooten family has been farming the land for more than 60 years. The farm house was big and white. There were two red barns and several other outbuildings and two silos at the end of the largest barn. The farm raised primarily corn but, the Van Wooten family also sold fruits and vegetables from their garden and mini orchard. When Gerrard and I pulled up the driveway we saw Mr. Van Wooten standing on his porch waiting for us. I almost freaked out when I saw all the vehicles parked to one side of the house near the entrance of the corn maze.

There were about a dozen high school kids and a couple of families walking into the corn maze. Evidently the maze was still open for business. Gerrard and I went up to the porch where Mr. Van Wooten was standing. Mr. Van Wooten was about 35 years old, clean cut and clean shaved. Mr. Van Wooten greeted us “Hello Boys. What can I do for you?”

I introduced us “My name is Ted Colin and this is Gerrard my associate. We are here to investigate the problems you’re having with your corn maze.”

“Well,” began Van Wooten, “the problem is that a lot of people have been going in but not too many ever make it out. I even sent my dog in and he never came out. I’d go in myself but I’m allergic to corn stalks. I get all itchy and watery eyed and break out in a rash. My wife handles the business at the maze. She’s busy inside now with some housework. She just took in some money from those people over there disappearing into the maze. I sure hope a few of them make it out.”

I asked Mr. Van Wooten if he’d mind us looking around the maze and he said, “Be my guest. I won’t even charge you. In fact, if you can solve the mystery I’ll let you have any vehicle on the lot if you know how to hot wire it of course. I already checked them all and the keys must have gone with the owners into the maze.”

Before Gerrard and I could enter the maze, a horrible old lady appeared at the entrance. She was so wrinkled it was hard to find her mouth and eyes on her face. She had less than a hundred long gray hairs on her head and her skin was as gray as her hair. Her fingers were long and bony with long jagged yellow fingernails on the tips. She raised a long bony index finger and she gave us a warning in a shrill, dramatically slow voice, “Many people go in this corn maze but, few ever come out. Be wary or you will be its next victims.”

“Thanks lady,” I said. Then Gerrard and I proceeded into the maze. We did not travel more than 20 feet down the maze when everything became suddenly dark. We turned around and the entrance to the maze was gone. Nightfall had come and we were trapped inside the mysterious corn maze. We continued down the maze and found that around each bend in the maze there was a single lit teekee torch. After about the second bend, we started to encounter Jack-O-Lanterns. At first there were just a few down each corridor but suddenly, there were dozens. Each corridor was only about 50 feet long so we were surrounded by Jack-O-Lanterns. Each Jack-O-Lantern seemed to have the same grimacing smile with long, saw tooth like fangs.

“Every time I turn around I end up with my foot in the mouth of one of these Jack-O-Lanterns,” complained Gerrard. “I hope we don’t get in trouble for stepping on them.”

Suddenly, we heard some screaming and yelling ahead of us. “Sounds like it gets spookier up ahead,” Gerrard observed. “The people ahead of us sound like they’re having a really good time.”

“I guess so,” I answered nervously. There just seemed to be something wrong going on. I wasn’t quite sure what it was?

I found that my feet and ankles were constantly ending up in the mouth of one of the pumpkin heads. I had to keep kicking the Jack-O-Lanterns off my legs like I have to kick off Madam Misty Merkel’s dog. You can’t go over to her trailer without her dog all over you. The pumpkins were even worse since there were hundreds of them and they were a lot bigger than the dog. In fact, as we proceeded through the maze the pumpkins we were encountering seemed to be getting bigger. Finally, we got to some that were as tall as our shins. These seemed to have some red liquid dripping off the fangs. Gerrard and I figured that red jelly must have been used to make people think the pumpkins had blood dripping from their mouths.

Around the next bend we observed what we thought were fake blood soaked body parts lying around. We saw a couple of heads, some arms and a leg were stuck in the mouth of a really huge Jack-O-Lantern which gave the affect that the leg was being eaten. Then we came to a dead end in the maze. We turned to walk back the way we came but, somehow hundreds of large Jack-O-Lanterns were blocking the path. They were crowded on top of each other so high they rose above the corn maze.

“Well, we’re trapped," I said. "What do we do now?”

Gerrard shoved some corn stalks aside and said, “I think we can just shove these corn stocks apart and walk right through these rows until we get to the outside.” Gerrard started forward and I followed. After going through about 15 walls of corn we were on the outside of the corn maze again. To our surprise it was still daylight out. The sun had not set after all. We had only been in the corn maze for about 20 minutes.

Gerrard and I went up to porch where the farmer was still standing. “We didn’t find anything,” I reported to the farmer. “Nice special effects though with the fake bloody body parts and all the Jack-O-Lanterns.”

“Body parts? Jack-O-Lanterns?” said Mr. Van Wooten with a surprised look on his face. “There aren’t any bloody body parts or Jack-O-Lanterns in the corn maze. All we have are teekee torches. We don’t even grow Jack-O-Lanterns anymore.”

“Then where did the Jack-O-Lanterns come from?” I asked.

“Well boys,” Mr. Wooten began, “years ago we used to grow pumpkins that could one day be carved into Jack-O-Lanterns. We sold pumpkins to people that came out here and we even supplied many of the grocery stores in the area. Then one day, my wife went crazy. She started smashing pumpkins with a baseball bat. She destroyed them. She destroyed the entire crop and over there where the corn maze is today is where we buried them all. That is our pumpkin cemetery. The rotting dead pumpkins have been good for the soil. That’s why we can raise such tall thick corn there for our corn maze. “

“What about the old lady we met on the way into the maze?” I asked.

“Well, there isn’t any old lady here on this farm. My mom and dad are in Florida and my grandma moved down state to take care of her grandparents. “

“Wow,” I exclaimed. “When we went in there was this really ugly, gnarly, wrinkled up old hag that warned us that we might not make it out. She was really horrible looking. Her skin was gray colored like she was a corpse and she was nearly bald. She must have been a hundred years old. She was a real ugly old witch.”

“There’s nobody around here that looks like that son. I’ve never seen anybody as horrible looking as you just described. Well, it seems we have some more mysteries. It‘s too bad you didn’t find out what happened to all those people. One good thing that happened is that while you boys were in the maze a local chop shop called and they‘re will to buy all these vehicles for $500.00 a piece. I guess I don‘t care if the owners are missing. I’ll do o.k.”

“I guess we’d better get going,” I said. Then, just as Gerrard and I turned around to leave, the ugly old witch was coming up behind us. Gerrard and I looked around for a place to run. “That’s the old witch!” I yelled. I looked up at the farmer and said, “That’s the one I was telling you about.”
“Why that’s not an old witch,” he said angrily, “That’s my wife!

I spent the next day nursing my black eye with a piece of steak over it. My swollen lower lip was not quite as big as it was the night before. My ribs were soar but I didn’t believe any of them were broken. What kind of makes me mad is that my friend Gerrard just stood there laughing his head off along with farmer Van Wooten as Mrs. Van Wooten beat the heck out of me with her baseball bat. Now I know how those pumpkins must of felt and why they wanted revenge so badly.  Gerrard proved to be a very bad friend because he did not help me out when I was taking a beating.  I think I might get revenge tomorrow by adding some special little rat raisin sprinkles to Gerrards doughnut.