The Truth is Out There…

...but I’m damned if I can find it.

Having thoroughly enjoyed an all too rare family get-together in Charlotte, NC to celebrate a grand nephew’s college graduation at a non-party (he didn’t want a party so we obliged, though I couldn’t really tell the difference), I checked out of the motel and began driving my (borrowed) Mercedes Benz SUV north through the Shenandoah Valley.

I had planned to stay at a motel near Antietam in Sharpsburg, Md. to visit the battlefield and break up the drive back to Bethlehem, PA into two parts but, the day was overcast, rainy and foggy for long stretches and at times traffic slowed to a crawl.

The GPS finally said my motel was on my right but all I saw was a patch of woods. Went back and forth a few times and found the motel tucked away somewhat behind the patch and a Waffle House out front.

Checked into the motel to get the key but, without visiting the room, went directly to the battlefield for reconnaissance. It was farther away than I anticipated and, on the way in, I was amused to see a sign directing me to the Antietam Paranormal Society.

“Well,” I thought, somewhat impiously, “there certainly is a good supply of prematurely departed souls on hand.”

The battlefield was gloomy and darker than normal due to the rain. I just went to the bookstore and bought a few books on the battle, figuring I’d prep at the motel for a more extended visit the  next day.

I had overdosed on coffee and candy in the car to stay awake for the last bit of the trip so I wasn’t particularly hungry late afternoon but figured I would be later on and would not feel like venturing out of the motel, so on the way back I followed a series of mysterious signs indicating that there was a Subway nearby.

Driving way out of my way following Subway signs that kept appearing and disappearing without revealing where the damned thing was, and having repeatedly crossed the Potomac into West Virginia and back I finally gave up. Only by the grace of God and the Mercedes Benz GPS did I find my way back to Maryland and the motel, picking up an adequate sub and soda at a Sheetz.

Now, desperately tired, I parked at the motel and carried just my CPAP machine and a bare minimum of overnight things up to my room which, while on the first floor, required me to climb a flight of stairs to get up the small hill from the parking space.

I put the food in the fridge, read for a bit, and decided to pack it in at around 5:30 thinking I needed the sleep and this way would get to the battlefield when it opened at dawn.

I slept like the dead.

The motel phone woke me up. Who on earth would call me on the motel phone?

It was the motel front desk.

“Sorry to disturb you but where did you park?”

“At the stairs, where you told me to.”

“What color is your car?”

“It’s a white, Mercedes Benz.”

“Another guest just told me there is a white SUV by the motel that’s been standing there with its rear hatch wide open.”

Holy Mother of God, as my Catholic forbears would say, I left the Mercedes - the borrowed Mercedes - wide open to the world in a strange town.

I looked at the motel clock: 7:45!!

Sweet Jesus, I had slept over 14 hours with the Mercedes open and vulnerable to any passing Tom, Dick, or Harry!

I dressed quickly and went to the vehicle. If anything it was darker and more gloomy than the day before. And, yes, the hatch was wide, wide, open.

Nothing appeared to be missing and nothing damaged.

Now, thoroughly awake and thinking I now only had a few precious hours for a battlefield visit, I quickly loaded my stuff and checked out of the motel.

There was significant traffic during the twenty minute drive to the battlefield and it was eerily dark for 8:45 AM on a Monday morning. I again meditated on the sign for the Antietam Paranormal Society as I parked in front of the Visitors’ Center. It was incredibly dark to the point that I wondered if something strange was going on - like a power outage or something.

But the street lights near the Center were working and I found it hard to believe that they’d be on emergency power.

Dark, gloomy, and not a soul in site, I ate my food from the night before thinking that in just a few minutes, at 9:00, the Center would open.

Nine AM came and went. The Center remained dark. No one - neither staff nor visitor - showed up. The sign said the park closed at dark and it was certainly dark. If anything, it was darker now then when I left the motel.

And now I was definitely creeped out. What in hell?!

I took out my cell phone and looked at the time.

9:15.

PM

“PM?! WTF?!”

I had looked at the motel clock when I got the call and it definitely said 7:45. AM. I had checked!

Hm. It’s 9:15 PM on Sunday night. I checked out of my motel after being there a little more than four hours. I’m wide awake and four hours from home.

So I aborted my battlefield visit (the one that got away) and headed home.

On the way back to the highway I again passed the sign for the Antietam Paranormal Society and decided I’m either going crazy or the gray deceased were having some fun with a Yankee.