Gettysburg, PA
The last vestiges of a late summer sunset were fading as the first few stars flecked
the dark blue sky. A bright half moon lit the parking area at Spangler’s Spring and cast
eerie shadows among the cluster of dark, ancient boulders. The warmth of the day was
quickly being replaced by a damp chill. We grabbed our jackets as we left our cars...my
friend with her husband and I with mine.
A small group with flashlights and lanterns was just disappearing around a turn up
the road. We looked about and noticed that although there were several cars parked, we
were now alone. My friend, her husband, and I chatted briefly and decided that we would
walk up the hill toward some monuments. My husband chose to stay back and I could
make out his shadowy form as he joined the black boulders under the trees. We had little
trouble seeing in the moonlight, but the shadows were deep and dense. My friend started
to take pictures with her digital camera as soon as we stepped onto the grass. I had my
trusty 35mm.
We were talking quietly among ourselves about the history of the area and how
both the Union and Confederate soldiers had come to the spot to quench their thirsts
during those three hot July days long ago. My friend was talking excitedly as she was
clicking away with her camera. “Oh geez!’ she said. “Look at this! I have some orbs
right here by this clump of brush!”
I walked over to where she was standing and snapped off a couple pictures with
my 35mm, hoping that her luck would rub off on me. She moved father up the line of
brush and snapped off another picture. “Wow!” She exclaimed again. “Look at
this...they’re all over the place here!” I stepped up behind her to see the tiny digital screen
was spattered with little orbs. She swept her right hand around the bushes while she held
her camera in the other. “Ooooo......here...over here!” She whispered hoarsely. “You
can feel the cold!” I again went around to her side and timidly put my hand where she was
waving. Sure enough! The air in the brush on that part of the hill was considerably colder
than the ambient air.
My friend then slowly walked up a few yards more, still sweeping the air with her
hand. “Come over here!” she called excitedly. “It’s moved and it’s really cold here!’ She
stopped, put her camera up, and snapped off another picture. As she held it down to see I
slipped in beside her again to see this newest shot. The tiny screen was covered with a
dense foggy mist. We looked at each other and said at the same time “Oh my...!” I tried
to take a picture with my 35mm but it wouldn’t work. My friend was able to snap one
more shot with her digital just as we both were enveloped in a dense, exceedingly frigid
bone-soaking coldness.
I have never had the feeling before. It was more than cold. It was almost
multi-dimensional; like being submerged in a super-chilled icy gel. Reflecting back on that
peculiar sensation I must liken it to smoothing lotion over ones body...how it makes the
tiny hairs become sensitized. As I was standing in this electrified coldness I felt no fear,
only a mixture of curiosity and awe. Gradually I was conscious of other feelings creeping
over me as I stood there on the hill in front of this monument. I was experiencing a
feeling of overwhelming joy, like being welcomed home after a long, long absence....and a
deep, heart-wrenching sadness. I turned to my friend just as she turned to me and we
hugged each other from the raw emotions that were coursing through us. All we could
say was “Do you feel this...do you feel this?”
These were such overwhelming emotions that we both started to cry and laugh.
By now the cold had gone and we were left in the cool evening air to reflect upon this
strange encounter. Looking at the two pictures my friend had taken and comparing our
sensations, we determined that we had been enveloped by that cloudy mist of whatever it
was...heavy evening dew...or maybe the souls of long dead soldiers held fast to that tiny
oasis of peace in what must have been a hell on earth.
My husband had stayed among the rocks. As I came upon him, he sat up. He had
been reclining over a huge flat boulder. I leaned up against the same rock and asked him if
anything out of the ordinary had happened to him while we were up the hill. He said “No,
not really.” But a couple times I felt like I wasn’t alone....in fact it felt like I was sitting
among several fellows.” He sheepishly added, “I even offered them some of my chewing
tobacco. Out there the box still sits,” he pointed to a small object atop another large
boulder nearby.
“There was one moment, however, when I was almost certain that I would come
face to face with a spirit.” he continued. “ I had decided that since I was the only one
down here, that I would try to communicate with ‘them’ and started talking out loud. I
told them that I had some tobacco...that if they were lonely and wanted some company to
come right over and sit a spell...that if they were hurting I might be able to help since I
new a little medicine....”
“Well,” he went on, “nothing happened. Not that I was really expecting
anything...but you never know!” he chuckled. “But, by darned, didn’t I hear movement
not long after I said all that! I stopped and held my breath long enough to tell that I was
not imagining things and that there was something else out here under the trees with me. I
listened carefully and heard the crunching of fallen leaves being stepped on. The sound
was coming from the shadows at the edge of the tree line over there.” he pointed across
the boulder field several yards away.
“I sat very still as the steps now appeared to be getting closer and I tried to make
out a shape in the shadows,” he continued. “The sounds got closer and I swore I could
hear the iron plates of a soldier’s shoe slide across a rock just a few yards away!” he
leaned forward now and squinted out into the darkness. “ I heard it again...closer
still...heel plates on rock!” He sat up. “This time I made out a form. It was about 10 feet
away! There moving among these huge boulders was a single, solitary deer!” He added,
“I was shocked and amazed. She just walked out of the night and came over here” he
pointed to the next huge boulder, “...to these rocks...and me!” My husband scratched his
head and went on, “Then she turned and walked away, back to wherever she came”.
Holly