How's about another weird tale? I told you way back when I regaled you with my first 'supernatural' experience that I had a few more under my belt. Well, here's the next one. And this one, as always, is 100% true.
Kevin Ray (I introduced him in the previous chapter) and I had been friends for a year or so at this point (yeah, I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I really wanted to write this story) and we decided to head to South Haven, a nice little lake-shore city that lies roughly thirty minutes west of Paw Paw. It was early summer, likely right about when school got out, so it was still a bit cool during the evenings, and our plan was to hang out all day and just crash for the night in the car. Why pay for a camp ground, right? So we stocked up on a ton of pop (primarily Pepsi) and cigarettes (yeah, I smoked at the time- well I had just started so actually I failed at smoking more than I actually smoke... but you get the idea) and we headed to the shore.
It was a pretty dull day in terms of potential beach babes. It might have been just because it was so cool out and not quite the bikini weather we'd hoped for, but we prowled nonetheless. Soon we got bored and began inventing our own fun, which included chucking full pop cans into the air and trying to make them burst by smacking them into one another. For a destructive game that did little but deplete our soda supply, it was pretty fun. Soon, the sun began to set and we could see off to the west that a pretty decent storm was approaching. I had always wanted to watch a storm come in, and this looked to be a good one: dark wall cloud, lightning flashing, the distant rumble of angry thunder. We headed out to the pier and prepared to watch the maelstrom roll in.
The storm was coming in far more quickly than we'd anticipated. As we hit about the half-way point of the pier, we could physically feel the wind really picking up: whitecaps began to foam and water started to spray a bit over the stone breakwater. Besides us, there was one other guy on the pier that night, and as we walked by him he was reeling in his fishing line a rapidly packing up his gear. We said hi and he informed us -rather obviously- that the storm was going to be big and we'd be smart to head back to the beach. We thanked him and told him that we were only going a bit further and we'd turn around. The storm hadn't quite gotten there yet, but it was knocking on the door for sure.
With little warning (other than the storm, of course) the wind suddenly doubled into whipping, lashing gusts and it became apparent right then that we might have gotten a bit to far out onto the pier for our own safety. We said nothing, but turned toward the beach with our intentions perfectly clear: get off the pier. And as we looked back toward the welcoming solid ground we both saw the exact same thing. What could only be described as an Angelic figure stood right where the sand met the outcropped pier. Her translucence haloed yellowish white and her 'robes' billowed in the wind, only more like the breeze was gusting in slow motion. She was stunning and welcoming and most of all, beckoning. Her arms moved back and forth in a 'come forth' gesture and a feeling of warmth and safety washed over us. We looked at each other wordlessly (Kevin and I, I mean), and sprinted toward the figure. About half way back, we both stopped and turned at the same time to witness a huge wave wash over the very spot on which we were just standing. That spurned our fear even more, and we continued our run back to the beach doing our best to fight against the howling wind.
We hit the sand breathlessly, and both turned in unison once again toward the north end of the beach. And there was the female figure yet again, maybe thirty yards away. Her stance was unchanged and her beckoning arms called us forth for a second time. Without words, we looked at each other just as before, and took off in the direction of the glowing lady. As we huffed and puffed, catching our breath, to the spot where we were sure the woman stood, we were at a loss. She was gone. We looked around and both found ourselves staring back at the edge of the beach where it connected to the pier and watched as another gout of water erupted over where we had been merely moments before. At that point we could do nothing but head back to the car in wide-eyed wonder as we were absolutely pelted with wind and rain.
We sat there, Kevin and I, in the car, drying ourselves off and just wordlessly nodding our heads. It took an hour or so before we could even talk about what we'd seen, and neither of us could be absolutely positive how or why we'd seen it at all. We certainly chalked it up to Heavenly intervention, and that's how I've always looked at it. It just wasn't our time.
And that, friends, is the truth.
Kevin Ray (I introduced him in the previous chapter) and I had been friends for a year or so at this point (yeah, I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I really wanted to write this story) and we decided to head to South Haven, a nice little lake-shore city that lies roughly thirty minutes west of Paw Paw. It was early summer, likely right about when school got out, so it was still a bit cool during the evenings, and our plan was to hang out all day and just crash for the night in the car. Why pay for a camp ground, right? So we stocked up on a ton of pop (primarily Pepsi) and cigarettes (yeah, I smoked at the time- well I had just started so actually I failed at smoking more than I actually smoke... but you get the idea) and we headed to the shore.
It was a pretty dull day in terms of potential beach babes. It might have been just because it was so cool out and not quite the bikini weather we'd hoped for, but we prowled nonetheless. Soon we got bored and began inventing our own fun, which included chucking full pop cans into the air and trying to make them burst by smacking them into one another. For a destructive game that did little but deplete our soda supply, it was pretty fun. Soon, the sun began to set and we could see off to the west that a pretty decent storm was approaching. I had always wanted to watch a storm come in, and this looked to be a good one: dark wall cloud, lightning flashing, the distant rumble of angry thunder. We headed out to the pier and prepared to watch the maelstrom roll in.
The storm was coming in far more quickly than we'd anticipated. As we hit about the half-way point of the pier, we could physically feel the wind really picking up: whitecaps began to foam and water started to spray a bit over the stone breakwater. Besides us, there was one other guy on the pier that night, and as we walked by him he was reeling in his fishing line a rapidly packing up his gear. We said hi and he informed us -rather obviously- that the storm was going to be big and we'd be smart to head back to the beach. We thanked him and told him that we were only going a bit further and we'd turn around. The storm hadn't quite gotten there yet, but it was knocking on the door for sure.
With little warning (other than the storm, of course) the wind suddenly doubled into whipping, lashing gusts and it became apparent right then that we might have gotten a bit to far out onto the pier for our own safety. We said nothing, but turned toward the beach with our intentions perfectly clear: get off the pier. And as we looked back toward the welcoming solid ground we both saw the exact same thing. What could only be described as an Angelic figure stood right where the sand met the outcropped pier. Her translucence haloed yellowish white and her 'robes' billowed in the wind, only more like the breeze was gusting in slow motion. She was stunning and welcoming and most of all, beckoning. Her arms moved back and forth in a 'come forth' gesture and a feeling of warmth and safety washed over us. We looked at each other wordlessly (Kevin and I, I mean), and sprinted toward the figure. About half way back, we both stopped and turned at the same time to witness a huge wave wash over the very spot on which we were just standing. That spurned our fear even more, and we continued our run back to the beach doing our best to fight against the howling wind.
We hit the sand breathlessly, and both turned in unison once again toward the north end of the beach. And there was the female figure yet again, maybe thirty yards away. Her stance was unchanged and her beckoning arms called us forth for a second time. Without words, we looked at each other just as before, and took off in the direction of the glowing lady. As we huffed and puffed, catching our breath, to the spot where we were sure the woman stood, we were at a loss. She was gone. We looked around and both found ourselves staring back at the edge of the beach where it connected to the pier and watched as another gout of water erupted over where we had been merely moments before. At that point we could do nothing but head back to the car in wide-eyed wonder as we were absolutely pelted with wind and rain.
We sat there, Kevin and I, in the car, drying ourselves off and just wordlessly nodding our heads. It took an hour or so before we could even talk about what we'd seen, and neither of us could be absolutely positive how or why we'd seen it at all. We certainly chalked it up to Heavenly intervention, and that's how I've always looked at it. It just wasn't our time.
And that, friends, is the truth.
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