Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2014 15:50:04 -0400
From: “N.A. Booko”
Subject: Tales of Old Hyway 64: Sandy blonde mystery . .
I live on a part of old hyway 64- built in 1921 and abandoned in 1942. It is twenty feet wide asphalt and winds in and out of several properties between Pittsboro and Siler City. I used it as a driveway for my antiques shop during the 70s, 8os and 90s.
Sandy Blonde mystery:
Upon retiring one night, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was in a semi-dark room and just couldn’t keep my eyes closed. I kept staring at the wall. I suddenly realized, even tho I knew I was not asleep that a picture or image was beginning to develop on the wall- which now looked like a movie screen. I saw an old one room shack, weathered and worn, perched against rolling hills and a bright blue sky. On the porch was a man, sitting in a straight chair, leaning backwards, balanced on the two back chair legs, his feet propped up on the column holding up the roof.
He had long sandy blonde hair, a mustache, a blue and white plaid flannel shirt, faded blue jeans and cowboy boots. Appeared to be somewhere between 35 and 45 years old, slim build.
I fell asleep shortly after. Next morning, it was so clear in my mind what I had seen I had to comment about it at breakfast to my better half. Not much discussion since it was so meaningless.
We lived next door to our antiques shop. We took turns in the shop, while the other did chores, shopping, etc. Late that morning, I was working in the yard and minding my own business, a car pulled up to the shop and parked. I sorta ducked down behind a shrub as not to distract someone interested in antiques- not gardening. I took a peek to see who was going in the shop. It was tall sandy blonde haired man, a mustache, about forty years old. Blue plaid flannel shirt and faded blue jeans. Tennis shoes. I couldn’t believe my eyes!
I gave the situation about fifteen minutes before I went into the shop. When I opened the door and glanced to the back of the shop, my partner had a huge smile- At that moment, I knew that he had recognized exactly what I had seen. I felt compelled to tell the gentleman about my ‘vision’- He didn’t seem to mind and confessed that he had indeed lived in a similar house in the mid-west and often sat in a straight chair, leaning back- feet propped up. We all had a good laugh and they probably forgot about it- but I didn’t.
It bothered me then and it bothers me now- why did I see it and was there a deeper meaning . . . one that I didn’t see? Maybe if I hadn’t fallen asleep, I would have seen more of hisfuture- maybe even preventing some accident or such . . .
N.A. Booko
N.A. Booko lives, writes and frequently nods off in Chatham County . . .