Fort Washita Haunted Tours

Fort Washita near Durant, Oklahoma offers haunted tours every Halloween. A guide dressed in a cavalry uniform leads visitors around the historic site as he tells ghost stories. Because it is in such a rural area, deputy sheriffs keep the audience together as they walk the grounds.

It wasn't just dark; it was black and cold. The moon tried to peek through the trees. Each person held a small tin box with lit candles to keep them from falling as they walked.

I had come prepared with winter coat, comfortable walking shoes and a new camera. Ghost touring had been my favorite vacation fun for years. But as we moved from building to building, I kept having trouble taking pictures. My daughter, Angela, and I were with her fiancé, Josh, his mother, aunt, uncle and cousin. All of us tried to figure out the problem.

Towards the end of the tour we stood on a wood bridge listening to the storyteller. I couldn't hear very well because the stream drowned out his voice. On top of that I heard men talking to each other in the woods close to our group, which I thought was pretty rude. I couldn't wait to get across the bridge to the Confederate cemetery ahead of us.

There were no headstones. Trees lined the backside of the small clearing. The only visible landmark was a small wooden sign with "Confederate Cemetery" printed on it. I pressed the shutter release on my camera. Nothing. Pressed again. Nothing again. Maybe the lack of artificial lighting was causing the problem. The flash wouldn't go off. I finally put the camera on the fence post to stabilize the camera as I tried one more time to get a picture.

By now the deputy wanted me to move. The tour had returned to the office. Puzzled and frustrated I turned the camera off and walked to the entrance. I decided to test my camera again. I stepped three feet away from a giant elm tree and snapped a shot of its trunk. Click. The flash went off and I heard the familiar sound of my shutter.

Later at our room, we hooked my camera to the laptop and downloaded my pictures. The bunks in the barracks, different members of our tour and the storyteller all came out just fine. Suddenly, I heard Josh say, "What the heck is this?"

The computer screen looked like five million fireflies were having an aerial adrenalin attack. It was my cemetery picture. The family gathered around looking at my picture. "What were you doing, Mom?" Angela asked.

"Actually I was mad. I couldn't hear the storyteller because of the water flowing under the bridge and the guys cutting up in the woods. And then when I got to the cemetery, my camera wouldn't work."

"Mom," said Angela.

"What?" Why were they all acting so weird? We spent good money on tickets for an evening of ghost stories at an old fort. I couldn't hear because of all the interruptions and I got mad. So what?

"Mom," Angela continued "There wasn't any water in the creek. It was dried up. And the sheriffs would have chased anyone in the woods.

I was stunned. She was right.

Angela started laughing, "only you would pay money to go see ghosts then complain when you hear them talking and they get in your picture."