Route 8
The New England area of the United States has always been considered to be the most haunted area. Maybe it’s due to the fact that the first settlers, the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, Mass. One can imagine the hardships they had to endure and the constant fear of marauding bands of Indians. Or maybe it’s because the war of independence from England began, was fought and ended in these states. The despair of the Patriots that were huddled together against the cruel New England winter or the fear of the too young soldiers sent into battle to die maybe this is why the dead do not rest. It is no wonder why that these scenes are still be reenacted even in modern times. I was not thinking of these things as my daughter, Stacey, and I traveled north on Route 8 in Connecticut. We were just south of Naugatuck and my daughter was pleading with me to take her to the Gunn Town Road Cemetery. There had been many reports of people seeing a specter of a colonial man, carrying a lantern riding a horse from one end of the cemetery to the other end. Stacey was eager to see if we could be lucky to see this ghost. I glanced at the car clock and noticed that it was just pass 9 P.M. We were just coming up to the Cross Street exit and the next exit would take us to the cemetery. I was trying to figure out how late it would be if we took a side trip to the cemetery. I didn’t want to get home too late, as the next day was a school day for Stacey. I figured that we would have plenty of time for a quick trip. I was just going to tell her we could go, when I began to feel so strange, I felt so surreal, almost like I could fall asleep. I was concerned as Stacey was only 14 at that time and she would not be able to drive the car if I couldn’t. I began to concentrate on my driving. I again looked at the time and was shocked; it was now forty minutes later and we had not seemed to move any distance. We were still coming up to the same place, The Cross Street Exit. Even Stacey noticed the difference in time. That somehow time had moved forward at such a rate that we did not notice but we stayed right were we were. I quickly decided against going to the cemetery. I just wanted to get home, quickly and safely. I knew that something was going to happen, I didn’t know what. All I wanted to do was to keep driving. All around me I began to see a vision. I could still see route 8 through this vision. The vision was that of an Indian village, they seemed to be oblivious to us; they continued to do their every day life. I could see Indian men, some where riding horses, some stood in groups talking, some sat by fires in front of rounded structures. The women were cooking, working and taking care of the babies and children. I also saw many children running and playing. This vision stayed with me as I continued to drive up route 8. I didn’t mention this at first to Stacey, I didn’t want to frighten her. I really need not have worried as shortly after the vision began she turned to me and told me that she too had been seeing the Indians. We both watched this vision as I drove home. As we approached Waterbury I began to really feel awful. I felt an over powering sense of sadness. Stacey was also feeling the same. She turned to me and sadly said. “Oh Mommy they killed---“ and her voice trailed off. I then finished her sentence by saying “Patience Wentworth!” with those words the vision faded and everything returned to normal. We both felt much better, and we traveled home with no further incidents. I have never tried to find out if in fact there was a woman named Patience Wentworth who was killed by Indians in the Naugatuck Valley area. I really don’t know if I want to find out. |
