Colorado Ghost Stories. Antonio Boone's Garcez
any urging from me, he automatically investigated the whole house searching all the rooms of the house, looking into my bedroom, closets and bathroom. Not wanting to miss a thing, he even looked under my bed. By that time Blacky was coming out of his terrified state, came over to me and jumped on to my lap.
Nothing was found to be out of the ordinary. All my windows were locked and the two doors that lead to the outside, the back and front entry, were secure. I was unable to understand what had just happened or who the strange man was. I know I was not imagining it, because even my dog had experienced it. It was a hell of a thing to think that I had seen a ghost, but what else could it have been? I thanked my neighbor and after we had talked for a few minutes more, he left. I began to feel a bit more comfortable as nightfall came, but that evening, I must admit that I did sleep with most of the house lights on.
After watching television for a few hours, I felt that everything was back to normal, and that I might have even imagined it all. I decided to go to bed. But I would soon begin to have what would become a constant series of bad nightmares that took me almost three months to overcome.
These nightmares would awaken me from sleep many nights after. I would always dream the same dream that included that man with the moustache. In my dreams he would yell at me, just yell at me for no reason. As his yelling would get louder to the point of madness, I would awaken. It was the anger in his voice that would shake me the most. I would not be able to understand the words he would yell at me, but I knew that they were not very good.
These horrible, terrible nightmares would awaken me once, or even sometimes twice a night. I’d wake myself up from hearing my own moans and sometimes screams. But one night in particular was the scariest. After awakening from one of these nightmares, I lay awake in my bed and in just a few moments I heard the sound, the insane laughter of this man’s voice coming from within my bedroom!
I was filled with a terror that gripped me strongly. It began as soon as I awoke from the nightmare. That horrible laugh, followed by the words, “Why did you do this to me, why did you do it!” My body trembled convulsively with fear. Then the loud sound of something breaking, or cracking came immediately after his voice stopped. The cracking sound was one that would be made by a wood board, which had been snapped! I was really scared.
Suddenly, the feeling of dread left me, and the atmosphere of the room seemed to become normal. Except for the scent of an unusual “wet or dampness” that lingered in the room, the voice of the man was gone and I felt a sense of relief come over me. I turned on the night light at my bedside, and left it on for the remainder of the night.
I didn’t even want to get out of bed to use the bathroom. I just had the feeling that if I had done that, who knows what I might have seen looking back at me in the mirror! I tried to go back to sleep and eventually I did. In the morning, I did out of bed and spotted nothing different in the room at all. But just a few days later everything would change.
I left my house to visit my sister who lived in Durango, Colorado. I was gone for two long weeks, during which time she was in the hospital being treated for the last stage of pancreatic cancer. I was unable to take Blacky with me, so I left Blacky at home with a neighbor who would care for him while I was away. I kept in touch by telephone with my neighbor back home, who I would call every few days. Strangely, he informed me that one day someone came to my home and he left a note with his name and phone number. When I returned home my neighbor handed me my mail and the note the man left.
I did not recognize the name on the note, but I did call him and asked him what he wanted to talk to me about. It so happened that he, his older brother and father had lived in the house I now live in. He then informed me of his family’s history, but most importantly was the terrible fact that when they lived at the house both he and his brother were constantly, being physically abused by their own father. The father was an alcoholic and would become very abusive when he drank.
One evening, after the father had begun to drink, one brother decided to take matters into his own hands, and picked up a handgun and shot his father. The bullet severed a large vein in the father’s chest and he died a few hours later. Well, the exact reason for his visit to my home was really unclear to this man. He told me he had been having dreams of his dead father for several months and his counselor convinced him that part of his recovery would be to return to his childhood home, and confront those memories head on. Eventually he found the courage and decided to make the long drive from the state of Nevada to my home, his boyhood home, hoping to come to grips, to conquer his reoccurring nightmares.
I informed him of my own recent nightmares, and also about the man I saw standing inside the house. He was shocked and surprised when I described the ghost’s features, and the words this spirit had spoken to me. He said that my description of the man, described his father completely, to a tee!
I was surprised as well, and could only come to the conclusion that the ghostly figure of the man I had seen and heard in my home was this man’s father, who was standing right in front of me. There was no doubt about it.
I believe that because of our unusual meeting, and the very personal things he shared with me regarding his terrible childhood, I have not had another frightening encounter or nightmare since. I believe that the spirit of the murdered man chose to communicate with both myself, and his only living son. I cannot think of a reason why this would have to be, but maybe after all is said and done, the dead do not really rest, especially if they treated others so badly while they lived on earth.”
ASPEN
The Ute Indians named the mountains lying within Aspen as the “Shining Mountains.” Initially named Ute City, the name was soon changed to Aspen in the spring of 1880. Traditionally, the land on which the town now sits is considered by the Ute people to be their homelands. Not long ago, archaeologist discovered evidence of ancient home sites and artifacts that date back more than 8,000 years. In 1879, prospectors in search of silver ore crossed the Continental Divide and entered the Ute’s summer hunting range. Surprisingly for them, they discovered one of the world’s richest silver lodes.
Throughout the coming years, after many mining camps, two competing railroads and major capitalists investors, Aspen quickly became an urban center of architecture, and in 1935, the ideal location for a ski resort. In 1947, the world’s longest ski lift opened on Aspen Mountain. Aspen flourished both in the winter and summer months to become both a premiere center of recreation and a community center of the arts.
Inevitable, uncontrolled growth has forced the town of Aspen to adopt controversial and at times contentious growth control measures. Today, the vast majority of “locals” are no more than wealthy transplants from other regions of the United States. Visitors to Aspen would do well to heed the warning of adjusting not only to the high altitude, but equally to the high “attitude” of the area.
Jan D. Carlin’s Story
There are interviews that remain in my memory long after a particular book is published. What follows is one of those interviews. I hope Jan’s story will reveal something special to you that we each might hope for in a loving relationship—tenderness, com- passion and desire. Among these inherent characteristics, Jan has also learned to trust her intuition, apprehensions and the insight that comes from being presented with spiritual messages.
— Antonio
“Beyond those hills to the north of Aspen, 26 years ago, is the place where my husband, Morgan, and his friend, William, both died. It has only just been in the last few years that I’ve had enough strength to begin to openly talk about their deaths without breaking down in tears. I hope I don’t ‘lose it’ during this interview.
Before moving to Aspen, close to eight years, Morgan and I owned a small cafe in Canyon City, Colorado. After our daughter Veronica was born, we decided to sell the property and move to Aspen. The restaurant business was basically most of what both Morgan and I ever knew as a couple. We were tied to our