True Ghost Story : Our Ghostly Passenger

My then-husband and I were returning from Denver to our mountain home rather late one night. Fortunately for us, as it turned out, he was driving. We had had a pleasant day, visiting a friend after work and stopping for a rare dinner out. As we drove on, the bright moon peeked out occasionally from behind the clouds. It was a beautiful night and I was feeling relaxed and comfortable. Then it all changed.

We were still twenty miles from home when I felt someone in the seat between my husband and me. The feeling was so strong that I moved closer to the door to make room for the newcomer. "We've got company," I told my husband. Then I explained to him what I was sensing. Years earlier, he had had his own experience with a ghost, so he gave me the benefit of the doubt.

Our passenger was not visible, but occasionally, when the bright moon illuminated the cab of our truck, I thought I could make out a faint outline of the "person" sitting next to me. It seemed to be a male. "Someone I know has died," I said, "But I don't know who."

This was not my first encounter with what I can only describe as ghosts. The first encounter I can remember took place shortly after my grandfather died. I was about ten years old then, and every night for almost a week, I became aware of a presence in my bedroom each night after I went to bed. There were other encounters over the years. In each case, the presence would remain for a few days, then depart. But always before, I knew that someone close to me had passed on. This time was different. I had no idea who this ghostly presence was.

I don't particularly like being around departed spirits. For me there is a feeling of being wrapped in some sort of energy that makes my body feel as though it is trying to crawl inside my skin. Then I begin to feel cold, and I become aware of someone standing close to me. And once, when I did not become aware of its presence early enough, an entity slapped me on the back to get my attention.

The rest of the drive home was very uncomfortable. I tried to communicate with whoever was sitting between my husband and me, but somehow "he" seemed content just to be riding along. I tried to think of anyone I knew who was ill or had recently died. No one came to mind.

Conversation seemed impossible, and we drive the rest of the way in silence. It seemed like hours before we finally reached home. A friend was waiting there, sitting on our porch. He met us as we got out of the truck. "Your mom sent me," he said, "Your uncle died this afternoon."

As soon as he said those words, I felt the presence leave. Now I knew who had ridden home with us. A short time later, when I had a little time alone, I said a prayer for my uncle. I never felt his presence again.

I had learned early on not to talk about my experiences with my parents or anyone else. My family members were practical, down-to-earth people who did not believe in ghosts, so I never told them what happened. Only my ex-husband and I ever knew about this experience until now. Now you know, too.