Summer, the late 1960’s. This is a true story.
There were six of us who used to hang out together. Actually three of us were roommates. The other three were girl friends. The three guys decided we wanted to put a little scare into the girls by taking them to see the Ghost of Carbon Canyon. Yuk, Yuk.
Carbon Canyon is Southeast of Los Angeles in Southern California. Rolling hills that are common to the Chino, California area. As the story goes, a couple were parked at the local make out place at Carbon Canyon , doing things that couples do when parked, and somebody killed them. The ghost comes into the picture this way: He waits, at least we think it’s a he, on the hill top for couples to park below. He or she then comes down the hill to see if anyone is related to the person that killed the couple. If they are not, the ghost disappears. If they are, the ghost climbs over the gate and approaches the car with the intention to kill that person. Revenge for their own death.
The six of us piled into my 1959 Chevrolet and headed out. We kind of wandered through a few canyons telling ghost stories and generally being the buttheads that young men can be. Oh, this was going to be fun. Oddly enough, one of the places we went through was a little town called Sleepy Hollow. That was enough to put up the hair on the back of your neck.
We got to the “parking” spot and I backed in the car. Wanted to be sure we could get out in a hurry if need be. Another show of macho buttheadism. Sat there, talked, listened to the radio, and generally had a good time.
On the top of the hill in front of us, a light appeared. In that light, an apparition of some sort (all white mind you) also appeared. Six people in the car almost crapped. Then it got worse. The apparition started down the hill toward the gate. By then, I was trying to get the car started. You know how that is, when in a panic, you can’t even get the key into the ignition. Half way down the hill, the apparition and the light disappeared. Some calm returned to the car.
Thirty seconds later, the light and the apparition reappeared and proceeded to the bottom of the hill and approached the gate. At the instant it stopped at the gate, there was a huge ringing sound. The sound of a gong of some type is the best way I can explain it. By then I had gotten the key into the ignition and panic had returned to the car.
In the split second it took to start the car, we noticed the apparition crossing the gate and starting toward the car. Flying dirt and squealing tires on pavement and we were out of there.
We never went back, ever.