The following is one story that I published in a book entitled, “Home Spirit Home” The Beginning. This book contains 10 short stories of true paranormal experiences I personally have had throughout my life. This story describes an encounter with a Spirit that I have seen since I was a small boy. She lives at my camp in the Adirondacks.
Angels, and ministers of grace, defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn’d.
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell.
Be thy intents wicked or charitable.
Thou com’st in such a questionable shape,
that I will speak to thee.
(Shakespeare’s Hamlet, 1.4)
She stands on the edge of the woods just before the
beach, looking. Maybe to a future she will never have
or know. Or a lifetime long forgotten. Who knows.
All that’s left is to live out those last few moments
she can remember, in hopes that time will catch
up someday…… and give her peace.
In one way or another, the paranormal has always been a part of my family. As I’ve said before, many of my relatives were psychic. My father was a practicing Druid. I found this fact out many years later, after his death. The Druids of his day were not the dark ones of Celtic lore, but more a group of men that practiced the earth rites and celebrations, kind of like the Wicca religion. Only one of our family members dabbled in the dark arts (Seven-Book Moses) my Great Uncle James. However, that’s a tale for another time. This story happened at a lake in the Adirondack Mountains. My family has owned property at the lake since 1946.
I spent much of my life up at the lake; it is an incredibly beautiful area. However, it wasn’t always a lake. It was a valley with many small homesteads, hamlets, and villages. Before flooding the valley to create the lake, they moved the villages and the homesteads along with all the graves to another location. So everyone thought.
During the summer season, my friend Ron and I used to go down to the water to ski and swim, all the normal things you would do at a lake. Often we would go to the shore around six or seven pm to watch the sun set over the mountains. The afterglow or twilight of the setting sun would cast eerie shadows in the woods. The dark contrast of the woods against the dimly lit shore caused the entrance to thebeach to look like a portal to another world. Often, we would see a figure standing at the edge of the woods just before the light of the beach. It was a young girl about 16 years old wearing a sundress. The dress was beige with small blue flowers on it.
“Forget-Me-Not’s” I believe.
She had long blonde hair with a slight figure, not skinny just petite and very pretty. Each time we saw her, she would turn around, look over her shoulder at us, and smile. Each time we would hurry our pace to catch up to her. She would become more and more transparent as we approached. As we reached the spot where the girl in the sundress was standing, she would vanish into a mist. What was interesting about this encounter was that each time we saw her; she looked at us and smiled. When she disappeared, she left the air filled with the scent of Lilacs. The aroma lingered for several moments and then it too would disappear. We saw her many times throughout our life there.
We began to call her Lizzy. She seemed to like that. As we became older, the appearances grew less frequent. Other interests began to take up more of our time such as, girlfriends who occupied our thoughts, and our wallets. We began to see less and less of her until in the summer of 1971. She reappeared this summer once more. It was the year I was drafted into military service. The Vietnam War was still raging at that time. My parents decided to put a going away party together for me up at the cabin with a bunch of my friends. My vacation home buddy Ron came from Buffalo to say goodbye as well. That evening we took a walk down to the beach as we had done so many times before, and there she was. However, this time she was facing us and seemed sad.
We approached, talking to her, telling her we missed her all these years and it was good to see her again. Interesting enough, she was facing us but as we approached, she didn’t disappear. Lizzy stood there looking at us with this sad and worried look on her face. Somehow, she seemed to know that I was going away to a war. We stopped short of her so as not to scare or chase her away, although it didn’t appear that she wanted to go anywhere.
All three of us stood there not speaking until Ron said to her, “Lizzy, why do you look so sad?” We stood a little while longer and she put her hands together over her heart, smiled once more at us then turned to face the lake and vanished. The Lilac scent continued to linger for a long time after. Ron wondered if it were possible Lizzy missed us too. Ron felt that maybe she may have missed me the most. I was 20 at the time. By the way, Ron and I researched the settlement that was just off the shore from our beach. Scottsville was the name of the little hamlet. There was an article describing a fever epidemic that took many of the children and older folks’ lives around the late 1800’s. About 50 people died of this fever. One was a young girl about the age of 16 or 17 named Elizabeth. We hadn’t known this until after we named our friend Lizzy. I’m not sure how we came up with her name. Maybe it was on a whisper of the wind in our ears, or on the breath of a cool summer night’s frost. It felt right I suppose, or maybe she told us in her own way.
She appeared to me once more, the day I returned from the service. September 23, 1973. It was a beautiful Indian summer day. The leaves had turned and the lake was like a pooled mirror. She came to me once more at the edge of the woods, just after the sun had slipped behind the mountains. There she stood in the golden wash of the setting suns afterglow. Her dress, her smile, and the scent of Lilacs.
At that moment, I wished I could put my arm around her and hold her close, she turned and looked at me, smiled, and then she vanished. The flowery sent lasted for a long time after. Lizzy has never appeared again. Every now and then, I’ll catch the scent of lilacs, and know she’s still there with me. Now as I stand in the shadow of day, and watch the sleeping sun disappear behind the mountains, I whisper softly into the night…. “Lizzy, if it were only another time it might have been different for you and I. It might have been better in time for both of us. Remember me when it’s my time to stand in the shadows of the setting sun with you…”