This story a part of the True Ghost Stories page on Obiwan's UFO-Free Paranormal Page. Please do not copy or distribute without permission from Obiwan and/or the original author!
From: GJuhn@aol.com
Date: Fri, 17 Jul 1998 19:30:36 EDT
To: obiwan@ghosts.org
Subject: great story
Hi Obiwan,
A friend of mine recently emailed me a firsthand account. Let me know if you need a name.
- ----
Hi,
Greg asked me to tell my ghost story, so here goes. It's 100% true, and it happened to me.
A while back, I believe it was in the winter of 87 or 88, I was part of the Westford Academy (high-school) ski club. We would bus out to Wachussett Mountain (in Massachuestts) around two in the afternoon and ski until 8 or 9 in the evening and then bus home. It's a mid-size mountain facing a lake. All the times I have been there the wind whips across the lake, towards the mountain, and the ride up the ski lift was always freezing. My best friend Andy, and I were skiing together that day, and we had spent most of the time on the hill (usually people made a few runs and gathered around the fireplaces in the cafe). We were exhausted, but having a great time. Near 8 o'clock that evening, we were heading up for one last run. It was cold enough and late enough that we were the only people on the ski lift, as far as we could see in either direction. There was even a little fog around, but not enough to worry about. We were joking and jostling and being raucous, but as we neared the midpoint of the ski lift we saw someone riding the ski lift down the hill (coming towards us).
As the figure became clearer, I realized it was a man, adult size, wearing a brown trenchcoat and a brimmed hat. His face was in shadow, and he had yellow work-boots on instead of skis (that's why I noticed). He had no identifying patches or sashes on the coat, and his hands were in his pockets. It was an eerie enough sight that we stopped kidding around and both of us watched the figure grow closer. As it came near enough to make out features, we realized that due to the hat and the angle the figure's head was tilted, we couldn't see a face, or any bare skin. I peered a little closer, being on the inside of the lift, and closer to the figure, and as it neared within twenty feet of me, I had the distinct impression that I smelled a smoking pipe which was odd because the wind was coming from behind me, and moving towards the figure, so the chances of me being able to actually smell something from the guy were remote, and at that moment I had the strongest feeling: a strong thought of my uncle in Tennessee. It wasn't so odd a thought, though it came completely out of the blue (we hadn't been talking about him, and I hadn't given him any thought for months), because my uncle is the only one I know who smokes a pipe, and the two associations are pretty natural.
I was ready to dismiss the thought but as the figure passed us, we passed under a lift-pole light, illuminating the three of us like daylight. I turned my head to follow the figure, and as it passed the side-bar of the lift seat I was sitting on, *he disappeared!* Not all at once, but from his nose backwards, as if instead of passing by my seat he had somehow passed through a paper-thin doorway, hidden by the bar of my lift seat! Andy saw this as well, and we turned as quickly in our seats as wearing skis will allow, and the figure was gone. It was still light enough to see if he had fallen- and the snow beneath us was unblemished. It was certainly not deep enough to hide a man. We watched behind us for a while, and then decided without speaking to let it go. We raced down the hill, passing over the spot below where the man had disappeared, and got to the bottom in time to change and catch the bus. During the bus ride I managed to put it out of my head, dismissing it as a light-trick, or a mis-perception. But when I got home, my parents were on the phone, and my mom was crying. It seems that my uncle, who was in his mid-forties, had had a stroke that night, and nearly died around 8 o'clock. He was stable now, and they were reasonably sure he was going to be fine. He's still alive today, and I've never discussed what I saw with him, (he's a psychiatrist- I don't need to look that crazy), but maybe I will the next time I see him.
I can't explain this, and I certainly don't dwell on it much, but it happened...and I can't explain it.