Two friends are exploring an old cemetery in Pendleton, Oregon at night. Suddenly they sense and see a spectre that they feel is evil. The entity chases them until they exit the cemetery.
I recently received the following account:
"I used to live in Pendleton, Oregon, and visited the old Olney Cemetery in Pendleton, Oregon in the late 1980's. I used to go out there on a regular basis, especially on cold winter nights with a buddy with a similar taste for adventure, and we'd go out and read tombstones and check out the creepy and eerie stuff out there.
Pendleton is an old town in eastern Oregon, and the population has been 20,000 from the mid-1800's until today. The people are kind of isolated out there, and cliques and clubs are super tight. Odd Fellows, Masons, you get the idea. The cemetery is commonly a place where guys in robes are out conducting funeral services and fulfilling the rites of their club members when they pass.
The older section of the cemetery is full of tombstones from the late to mid-1800's. Lots of cursive script and scroll work on Carrera marble headstones. Lost children. Dead babies. Mothers lost in childbirth. The monuments are old and worn, weathered in the hard icy Oregon winters. Trees surround groves of Angels, both Angels of Mercy, and Angels of Death. Skulls on headstones are common. Life taken in it's infancy and prime. The Odd Fellows have the most amazing monuments that are difficult to identify in the dark, as they are carved or cast in the shape of trees. The newer section of the cemetery are hills covered with headstones that are easily driven over with a riding mower, so we didn't spend time there.
We didn't want to be seen, so we drove the small car up into the cemetery after midnights with the lights off. We hid among the trees, which were more common back then, than now. There was also no gate, which now sits at the main entrance. We usually ended up reading the tombstones and comparing dates, trying to one up each other by finding creepy details, or maybe the youngest death age, or something equally morose. Tons of crypts and other remnants for old families were all about and you always wondered which one would open, resulting in something evil or bizarre coming out to punish you for disturbing their rest, or for screwing around near their final place of rest. A lot of people die with unfinished business, and we were more than aware that spirits can be restless and often angry as a result.
We had Mini Mag lights, that ran on AA batteries, and put clear red filters on the lenses so they wouldn't be easily seen. The trick to read faded and worn tombstones isn't to shine the light directly on the writing, but to lay the body of the flashlight parallel and against the tombstone face, creating readable shadows where the worn words are otherwise barely readable. The angle of the light lying across the stone reveals the shallow remnants of carving and inscriptions that haven't been legible for years.
One night we were out as usual, and it was cold and relatively still. We had been out there for about an hour or so, just meandering about, and straying away from the car. All of a sudden the wind stirred in the trees, not uncommon for a cold October, but it caused me to be on the alert more than usual.
All noise died to a dull muted blur. Everything seemed to slow down. Silence. The wind was still stirring and blowing hard around us, and the temperature dropped about 20 degrees, revealing our breath even more so in the cold air. I froze as did my buddy. I grabbed his arm and we hid behind a tombstone tree, and I asked him if he felt that feeling that was causing the hair on my neck and arms to stand straight up.
He whispered, "Pure evil."
It was a malevolent feeling that we'd never felt there before. As we hid behind the monument, we couldn't see anything as it was a new moon and nearly pitch dark, the best time to not be seen. Even the dim lights from the remaining businesses over the hill seemed to fade into black.
I couldn't hear anything but the wind shifting and stirring the angry leaves, and I strained my every sense to locate whatever it was. It started moving, too fast to be human. I couldn't see it, but I knew exactly where it was, and it was coming around the headstones about 20 yards away I got the distinct feeling that whatever was there was trying to flank us and come around to cut us off. "NOW! RUN!" I hissed to my friend, and we sprung out and booked it for all we were worth back up the hill to the car. It kept moving, but faster now.
We jumped in the car, with me in the driver's seat. I never locked the car in such places, and shoved the key in and had it running before Craig had his door closed. I was spinning tires as his door slammed, and we flew down the narrow one lane road, right back where we had just come from in the cemetery, hitting 60 mph or so racing down the hill with no room to spare and with the headlights off. He kept looking back but couldn't see anything, and I was so focused on not hitting tombstones next to the road that I couldn't chance a glance in the mirrors. I could feel it's presence still, just as dangerous and unfeeling and uncaring as before, and asked him if he could see it. "No, but it's right behind us!" I knew he was right.
I hit the exit of the cemetery and came out of there like a rocket, sliding and screeching into the slick street, turning to the left to get out of there. I hit the lights and looked back to see nothing behind us. I criss-crossed alleys and streets through town just in case, high-tailed it back to our apartment, and we ran inside and locked the door. Whatever it was stopped at the edge of the cemetery property.
It was a nervous night, but nothing else happened after, although neither one of us slept well, and we kept a rotating watch all night just in case. I've always been of the opinion that the military has it figured out when it comes to watches and security. I never fall asleep or rest unless I know someone has my back in such situations.
We never went back to that cemetery EVER again, and tried to avoid the general neighborhood. We talked about it later, and both agreed that we both thought it was a person at first, but the way it moved, the speed with which it moved, and the way it pursued us left us both with no doubt that it was something that wanted to cause us harm. Even now, almost 25 years later, I wouldn't go in that cemetery at night for a bucket of cash; those things have long memories. It's best not to fool around with entities that leave you with those types of feelings and experiences.
Here's a cool picture of one of the stone tree headstones. Pretty cool. It looks like there aren't many trees there anymore from the picture. Back then there were tons of ancient and gnarled trees there that made it really spooky at night. It's kind of sad actually. I'd love to go back there again...but, never again, not even in daytime." N
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Have you had a sighting of a winged humanoid or huge bat-like creature in the Chicago, Illinois metro area / Lake Michigan region? The entity has also been referred to as the 'Chicago Mothman', 'Chicago Owlman' & 'O'Hare Mothman.' - Chicago / Lake Michigan Winged Humanoid Regional Interactive Map - Please feel free to contact me at lonstrickler@phantomsandmonsters.com - your anonymity is guaranteed. Our investigative group is conducting a serious examination of his phenomenon. We are merely seeking the truth and wish to determine what eyewitnesses have been encountering. Your cooperation is truly appreciated.
Thanks. Lon Strickler
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