In September of 1984, I was practicing two evenings a week with the Northeast Oklahoma College Orchestra in Tahlequah, Oklahoma. Tahlequah is about an hour‘s drive northeast of Pryor, which is where I lived, but the hills and scenery made the long drive a pleasant one.
One night, practice was cut short with the conductor informing us of a severe storm approaching the area. I left Tahlequah at approximately 7:30 that evening and proceeded to drive home.
I was just outside of town when what appeared to be a large, white bird skimmed the hood of my 1979 Mercury Cougar and glided up over my windshield. I ducked, but not before seeing that the bird‘s wingspan covered the whole front windshield in both width and length. I was relieved when the expected collision did not happen and continued on my way home without stopping.
The air had a heavy feeling and there was a growing fog, but the night was still clear enough for me to watch for my landmarks. A typical girl when it comes to directions, landmarks are essential for me. Even when the drive was a straight run like this one was, landmarks are comforting.
Some time later, I noticed that I had not seen a familiar landmark, an unpaved road that turned off to the right, but figured I had missed it due to preoccupation with the bird incident. Time passed, I kept driving, but now I was getting nervous for while the scenery was as I expected it to be, I did not see any of my familiar landmarks. I started wondering if I had somehow turned off the highway without realizing it.I was considering turning around to head back towards Tahlequah when I noticed a man up ahead at the side of the road. I could not see him clearly but got the impression of the wind blowing dust all around him. It was his eyes though that caused my sudden unease. Even at the distance I was from him, his eyes glowed a bright electric blue. I remember thinking there was no way I was going to stop for him — impending storm and no other traffic be damned, the night had been weird enough without stopping for a hitchhiker with glowing eyes. Nevertheless, I continued to let the car slow and finally, stopped . . . even while I was conscious of telling myself I was not going to do that very same thing. The man got in silently and I started back down the road.
Although he was sitting next to me in the front seat, I could not get a clear image of him. It was as if I did not want to see him. I did, however, try to make small talk. I timidly asked his name, giving mine when I received no reply. I attempted a few other questions that were also met with silence and after a short time, gave up with a nervous laugh.I was scared now. It seemed like I was driving a long time. I knew I had not turned off and was on the right road, but the one town that stood between Tahlequah and Pryor seemed no closer, nor had I seen any of my landmarks.
I was lost, even though I knew there was no way I could be. More than the silent man next to me, the dichotomy between those two existing realities is what scared me the most. I knew I was lost but I was not lost. I nervously ignored my silent passenger as I tried to reason out my situation, and admittedly, tried not to panic.
All of a sudden, I felt a wave of nausea and dizziness pass over me, but it passed immediately and was quickly forgotten as the stoplight in the center of Salina, the town between Pryor and Tahlequah, rushed towards me!
I was elated and as I stopped for the light, turned towards my rider with a huge stupid grin and laughed. I was getting ready to exclaim, ―We made it!‖ for there had been in the back of mind aBewildered, I looked around for him, but instead, saw a medium-sized dog out my passenger side window sitting in the deserted parking lot of the closed gas station on the corner.
The dog was white with beige markings, but more importantly, possessed those same glowing electric blue eyes. I acknowledged him through our eye contact then he turned away and I drove the rest of the way home without incident until I reached Pryor. worrisome doubt that we would. The words died in my throat because the man was no longer there.I was not even in the driveway when my parents came running out. My mom was yelling at me and crying at the same time. My dad just stood there glaring and pale. My 15 year old sister was crying and yelling along with my mom. I was, again, simply bewildered.
After things calmed down, I found out the reason for them being so upset. It was four o‘clock in the morning when I made it home … eight and a half hours after I had left the college for the hour drive home. Several tornadoes had made a direct hit in the area on the route I took and the roads were torn up and damaged. I have no explanation for the lost time, nor did my car, asboth mileage and gas were approximately where they should have been. Something took me safely through the storm, although admittedly, via a long drive elsewhere that resembled but didn‘t quite match my normal route. And my rider . . . ghost, guide, skin walker? I don‘t know; I‘ve never seen either form since. – Contributed by Caprice. so thanks for reading.
One night, practice was cut short with the conductor informing us of a severe storm approaching the area. I left Tahlequah at approximately 7:30 that evening and proceeded to drive home.
I was just outside of town when what appeared to be a large, white bird skimmed the hood of my 1979 Mercury Cougar and glided up over my windshield. I ducked, but not before seeing that the bird‘s wingspan covered the whole front windshield in both width and length. I was relieved when the expected collision did not happen and continued on my way home without stopping.
The air had a heavy feeling and there was a growing fog, but the night was still clear enough for me to watch for my landmarks. A typical girl when it comes to directions, landmarks are essential for me. Even when the drive was a straight run like this one was, landmarks are comforting.
Some time later, I noticed that I had not seen a familiar landmark, an unpaved road that turned off to the right, but figured I had missed it due to preoccupation with the bird incident. Time passed, I kept driving, but now I was getting nervous for while the scenery was as I expected it to be, I did not see any of my familiar landmarks. I started wondering if I had somehow turned off the highway without realizing it.I was considering turning around to head back towards Tahlequah when I noticed a man up ahead at the side of the road. I could not see him clearly but got the impression of the wind blowing dust all around him. It was his eyes though that caused my sudden unease. Even at the distance I was from him, his eyes glowed a bright electric blue. I remember thinking there was no way I was going to stop for him — impending storm and no other traffic be damned, the night had been weird enough without stopping for a hitchhiker with glowing eyes. Nevertheless, I continued to let the car slow and finally, stopped . . . even while I was conscious of telling myself I was not going to do that very same thing. The man got in silently and I started back down the road.
Although he was sitting next to me in the front seat, I could not get a clear image of him. It was as if I did not want to see him. I did, however, try to make small talk. I timidly asked his name, giving mine when I received no reply. I attempted a few other questions that were also met with silence and after a short time, gave up with a nervous laugh.I was scared now. It seemed like I was driving a long time. I knew I had not turned off and was on the right road, but the one town that stood between Tahlequah and Pryor seemed no closer, nor had I seen any of my landmarks.
I was lost, even though I knew there was no way I could be. More than the silent man next to me, the dichotomy between those two existing realities is what scared me the most. I knew I was lost but I was not lost. I nervously ignored my silent passenger as I tried to reason out my situation, and admittedly, tried not to panic.
All of a sudden, I felt a wave of nausea and dizziness pass over me, but it passed immediately and was quickly forgotten as the stoplight in the center of Salina, the town between Pryor and Tahlequah, rushed towards me!
I was elated and as I stopped for the light, turned towards my rider with a huge stupid grin and laughed. I was getting ready to exclaim, ―We made it!‖ for there had been in the back of mind aBewildered, I looked around for him, but instead, saw a medium-sized dog out my passenger side window sitting in the deserted parking lot of the closed gas station on the corner.
The dog was white with beige markings, but more importantly, possessed those same glowing electric blue eyes. I acknowledged him through our eye contact then he turned away and I drove the rest of the way home without incident until I reached Pryor. worrisome doubt that we would. The words died in my throat because the man was no longer there.I was not even in the driveway when my parents came running out. My mom was yelling at me and crying at the same time. My dad just stood there glaring and pale. My 15 year old sister was crying and yelling along with my mom. I was, again, simply bewildered.
After things calmed down, I found out the reason for them being so upset. It was four o‘clock in the morning when I made it home … eight and a half hours after I had left the college for the hour drive home. Several tornadoes had made a direct hit in the area on the route I took and the roads were torn up and damaged. I have no explanation for the lost time, nor did my car, asboth mileage and gas were approximately where they should have been. Something took me safely through the storm, although admittedly, via a long drive elsewhere that resembled but didn‘t quite match my normal route. And my rider . . . ghost, guide, skin walker? I don‘t know; I‘ve never seen either form since. – Contributed by Caprice. so thanks for reading.
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