I don’t believe in ghosts…
You see, I know they are among us. So, there is no voting, or thinking of the possibilities for me. There is a difference of knowing of the path and those like me that walk the path.
Having said this, I have been a lightening rod of the paranormal since I can remember. Yes, I have experienced the darker forces in this life. I also experienced things that I just cannot explain into words with the shocking reality that there is a whole other world that is somehow entwined with us. The only way that I can put it into any form of reference is the simple fact, you, yourself must experience these things and then we can talk.
Just take a moment and close your eyes and imagine you are on a highway that winds through the thick woods on a moonless night. Suddenly caught in your headlights you see something that raises the littlest of hairs on the back of your neck. Your reaction is seriously impeded because of this supernatural or crypto zoological creature blinded by your oncoming headlights. You lock up the brakes and throwing yourself into a skid, and then into a stop right there in the middle of the road. Seconds later, you get out of the car to look. Whatever it was is not there anymore. You naturally want to doubt yourself as the adrenaline is almost causing you to get sick to your stomach. You may even look for any signs of tracks or evidence if you are so bold to do so. Alas, there is nothing, no evidence, nothing but that fleeting unexplainable experience that will change your mind, and of course, change your life forever.
This story is not a fiction to entertain. It goes deeper in life-changing events from the actual paranormal activities. Some believe in Angels and Demons, Heaven and Hell. I do not, I can not for there are too many signs and proof of an afterlife that goes far beyond any religion or the cold grave of our mortal remains. However, there are dark (malevolent for those who know the meaning) spirits and those of a lighter, much lighter spirits, (the Benevolent Ones). Some are perceived as angry as I experienced in Egypt of an Egyptian Soldier who stolen an American Cooling Fan. Whatever these people were in this life carries forward in the afterlife and may echo through eternity. The whole myriad of human emotions carry with this energy of the person. I have experienced this all too often in my past.
Now back to this story…
The young Egyptian Soldier knowing that his power source would not work for the fan properly thought that he could simply get some American electricity. In doing so, he caused his own demise. You seem, he attempted to tap into our power running from up at the hilltop I was at through the desert floor. These insolated lines carried a fatal 2400 volt of current. The Equipment I was using is classified but I can tell you it was dangerously old. The substation finally opened the troubling short-circuit before complete failure.
I immediately phoned down to the American side of this site and asked what the hell were they doing with my power I was generating and keeping things working. Those guys down there knew absolutely nothing about jack shit. I really thought the problem was coming from my fellow Airmen. They caused more blackouts than I could count while there on my tour of 181 days. Nevertheless, they informed me that it was not them (this time). However, my station up all alone sitting on a hilltop looking over a 4,000 year old trade route. I began thinking as my heart raced with the possibilities that one of the members of the caravan may have stumbled upon the power cables. Regardless, I just knew not to reset the substation which was too hot anyways — The main breaker would not reset because of the heat. It was that bad. There are regulations and standards that are emplace for safety. The pit in my stomach hit me hard, that I remembered clearly.
Now, I grabbed my trusty big black Mag Light the kind that uses something like six d-cell batteries. The main base is far down and across the desert below noticed I was down. No strobes, the beacon red lights to warn air traffic of the doom of this high point. Besides, tradesmen used the light as a lighthouse as if the caravans where ships passing through the night. There were very seldom any caravans at night leaving or going to the nearby village. Still, I found myself hoping beyond all hope it wasn’t any of them.
I was radioed and told that help was coming as I have already begun to trace the path of these insolated high voltage lines lying on the ground on foot. Three thick black power lines on the sand — This was done a long time before I ever got there and so fucking against any American Electrical Code. These black cables were nothing less than the 20th century versions of Asps, the vipers of these ancient lands.
Asps, these venomous snakes that took countless of lives throughout the eons or in this case, sands of time in the most literal sense. Us Americans called these vipers, “Two-Steppers” for the simple fact that a healthy man would take about two steps after a single bite and fall to the ground and in seconds, die.
I saw better with my flashlight directed away from me and using the sky’s brilliance, you can actually see galaxies with the naked eye. I let my eyes adjust to the night and proceeded to easily follow the lines a safe distance away from them all the way down to the base of the desert floor. The trucks were coming up slowly from afar as I eventually came upon the scene, the problem, and the reason why the substation went down.
Just before my eyes about ten yards in front of me I can smell the burnt flesh, hair, and the rubber to include the complete destruction of the thick copper wiring. The odors would knock anyone around and was like hitting a wall. A very dangerous one at that.
I remembered that I turned my flashlight to the grim scene. There lying before me was a smoldering human charred body completely consumed by the deadly high voltage. His body must have burned completely through by the time I got down the hill. I did remember seeing a dim glow before I trekked down. I turned my attention to what I was doing so I wouldn’t end up falling off the path and leading to one hell of a gravity check at the bottom. Though this orange dark glow, well, it was gone by the time I hit the desert floor and I did not realize when I stood alone up there I saw the end of a life come to an abrupt end.
I stood there in silence as shook my head as I covered my nose and mouth. I then regained my composure and steadied my voice knowing by now there were many ears peeled to that frequency. I radioed the grave situation in to the group coming up in their vehicles. I could hear far passed them, a siren far off in the distance. But it the medics that would arrive would be too late.
The high voltage going to ground turned the sandy area around this low ranking Egyptian Soldier’s body about six feet in diameter to absolute glass.
The trucks from behind slowed down and before I knew it, ten people were standing around as two of the men removed their hats using them to puked in the meshed material that acted more like a strainer catching only the chunks of whatever they ate and as for the rest oozing out and littered the sand beneath them. I had to turn away as seeing them puke would affect me and my gagging reflexes were on high alert. I managed to keep it all down myself. Then a woman fainted and fell to the sand as no one paid any attention while fixated at the ghastly sight except for me since I was facing her at that point. I heard her whimper, then a gasp, and watched her body and the inevitable “thud” as she hit the sand.
It was all good, at least for me. You see, I didn’t like her much so I let her lay there in her frail state. She was a gossiper, and a pass-around type. “Promiscuous” had to be her middle name. I thought ever so briefly at times of when she arrives home to her family, she would be using that same mouth of hers to kiss her children and husband with – Damn…
Besides, she kind of reminded me of the late Farrah Fawcett with all that feathered hair minus the great ass and wonderful breasts. She certainly had a pretty low public opinion of ill repute.
Then from behind me, “Is he dead…?” I turned from the fainted woman nearly rolling my eyes at such an idiot question to an obvious answer.
You know, some people say the dumbest things at times, and this is one of those times. “You wanna go ahead and check his fucking pulse, Hondo?” I quipped.
“Hey asshole, I out-rank you! I spent more time in the Chow Hall than you have in your entire career!” I chuckled at that as it showed.
“Yeah, I believe you, you fat ass bastard.” I was getting to the point that the entire United States Air Force was beginning to be overrun by a mob of ass clowns, and maybe just maybe, I should consider doing something else.
I turned and walked all the way back, first stepping over the fainted female the one without an ass – That should be a crime alone. I got to where I needed to be and waited for the word to reset everything.
Now, whither or not you believe this — I personally could care less. I will say, I wish it never have happened at all.
It was a couple of hours later and from the top I can see that more people arrived to recover the body and a crew began repairing the lines. I knew that it would take them the rest of the night – I really had a vote of ill-confidence with the expertise of some of these Civil Engineers. I must explain, there are two species of humans on these classified operations, fuck-ups as being the Neanderthal Class and those of sharp minds and thinks way outside any given box that are in a constant state of frustration. I might add that I was totally unmediated.
I am the latter of these two groups.
Having said that thus far, as it turned out, it would take nearly a full day before the repairs would be completed and signed off as, “Good to go, Taylor. Throw that goddamned switch!”
Meanwhile, that late evening, I wrote up a classified safety and incident report right away. I wrote it in great detail while it was all fresh in my mind only after throwing my clothing in the wash machine standing in the nude still smelling fowl by the burnt body. I took a nice long shower but it just didn’t seem like it was enough.
After my shower, I remember my two kids, (Goats given to me as a gift by the people of a local village so they became property of the United States Air Force.) came inside and acting rather skittish. These goats were house-trained. I went back to my writing up the reports on an old typewriter — This was 1986 deep in Southern Egypt.
Late that night or early morning hours I began going to sleep as a gentle breeze from the west came through and was sweet and welcomed. Then before slipping off into a deep awaiting sleep, I noticed how bitter the breeze was then and turning colder by the second. Then as I noticed that we were not alone. I literally felt the angry spirit and with the atrocious strong odor, it pulled my sheets right off of my bed that I used to cover up at those summer nights as a second layer of fly protection with my Mosquito Net. Consequently, I never saw one single blood sucking Mosquito.
I watched the sheet ascend to the air high above me and then guided down by the invisible hand in scaring the kids (Goats) out of the building.
I grabbed the white sheet from the air as if someone was holding it. Something indeed was holding it other than myself. Knowing that this is the spirit that belongs to the charred man. I know he didn’t speak any English. Bad on my Arabic, I tried to convey my personal condolences of his death as I stood there literally naked. Besides, I figured this spirit saw enough naked men to include himself. I don’t know if it were because of my strong physique or the fact of my strong will or courage to confront this troubling spirit.
Perhaps a bit of both.
For three days, I was plagued by this spirit and so were my kids. But, this isn’t the end but only the beginning of the paranormal events. Things just seemed to escalate and so did the ever-growing rumors spreading like an uncontrollable prairie fire from far below.
You see, this angry spirit also went down and hassled or spooking the shit out of the electricians and some of them abandon the job site driving as fast as they could back to the American side of the site. This was the reason as to the length of repairs. You see, the repairs should have been completed under two hours in daylight under a ghost-free normal environment.
Shit, I couldn’t get anyone to come up to the hilltop. The water delivery, rations, and such just was not coming up because of the paranormal activity. I had to drive down to pick up everything. The American side again, was ablaze with stories of the charred Egyptian Soldier.
Oh, I remember the whisperings going on as I came to get resupplied. I felt as if they were all treating me as if I had a plague or something.
The story of what happened kept getting better every time it was told. The stories took a life of its own as it grew further away from the actual events.
Moreover, others were also affected by the ghost and the rumors thereof kept building up some sort of hysteria as a direct result. You see, even the Egyptian Traders and their camels loaded down however, they didn’t stop. Nothing travels as fast as bad news like cobalt-pressed lightening.
It seems that those who did not believe in the paranormal almost became ghosts themselves with accidents and mishaps. The stories, the sightings, the hysteria took a life of all its own. People were saying all kinds of shit. Even the Roman Catholic Chaplain had a bumper crop of souls that needed saving and record setting baptisms stemming from the paranormal pandemonium. The American side of this site were in small numbers to start with.
Now because of my particular job, I can go off-site and visit the village and a limited few that could. I decided to pack up the kids and head down to civilization of sorts. I remember looking forward with meeting with the folks of the village.
Once I got to the village I found it all eerie quiet as I could feel all eyes upon me. I walked up to the village Sheik standing before the ancient Mosque he served. I told him pretty much of what he already have come to know. Still, I told him about it as exactly what had happened.
He then rode back with me to bless the exact site where the man died. He then demanded to see the Site Commander which is in the Egyptian Army side. An equal to a Brigadier General, this officer, a Muslim himself looked at me as I stood there outside my vehicle in attention and saluting. He, the general walked up to me in perfect English while returning my salute in his own lengthy convenience cursing the whole tragedy. I got the feeling from this man as if I were to blame for it all. Maybe I was a bit paranoid or something. I wrote it off as such immediately.
After all, I didn’t steal a fan and take a folding pocket knife to tap into a high-voltage power line. In any court of any reasonable kind, I was not to be at fault. That was what I was rationalizing and telling myself. Still, it didn’t help matters with me much.
Even the Egyptian Army had sightings of this ghost. One of the men, didn’t know the that the electrocuted man he was talking ever so briefly in passing was dead by some twelve hours previously!
That would definitely be a real shocker – pun intended.
The Sheik then blessed the remains that were in a body bag ion a huge walk-in freezer. The remains were to be sent to a village far to the north for the grieving family and those of his village.
Then the Sheik wanted to visit my classified hill top in which permission was given by the general who was the supreme commander of the old site that did the granting and in translation, I was under orders to do so.
I drove off as the general was covered in a cloud of choking dust. Yeah, I can be a real fucking prick at times. We then travelled up to the top of this facility of mine. I was the only Airman that was there. I had this bitch all to myself with the kids.
Now as the Sheik and I walked into the facility right there before our own eyes, he saw, and smelling the offending stench of burnt flesh that seems to take days to leave your nostrils – Well, I can see the Sheik was overcome. Both of us seeing clearly at the dark specter now slowly walking towards us. I earnestly was glad that the apparition showed up and was seen by this man of Islam, the ever frightening Sheik.
Now, the Sheik was certainly stunned in awe and this is understandable as he shook like a leaf. It took him a couple of moments to regain himself and his purpose. He, by the way, spoke excellent English and said that this spirit is in suffering, as well as in an understandable mourning. Angry because he is no longer in the realm of the living but struggling to remain here just the same.
Consequently, I figured that the apparition was sticking around to exact his revenge. But that is just one man’s thinking there.
The Sheik did his spiritual bit — Though, I am atheist, I knew that whatever the Sheik was saying on behalf of the ghost, it was the ghost who was the believer and obviously gave it peace. Peace enough to evaporate, peace enough that the smell was suddenly gone.
As we walked outside in the light of day, the Sheik told me that he explained that I was not personally at fault and his death was not on my hands. He said some other religious jumbo as I drove him back to the village while he was praising Allah and all.
I do remember that everything quickly returned to normal and the animals came around and I guess about a week after that, the traders in their caravan came up to my humble abode to fuel up on good clean water and as usual, I fed them more than enough ham, “Meat Lover’s” pizza. I assured them that it was all, “Moosh Muquallah” in pronunciation from the true Arabic meaning simply as, “No Problem.”
According to their faith, I was sending them all to hell once a week and twice on Saturdays as I taught them the finer points of Poker and Black Jack. Damn, they caught on quick and the same 500 pounds (Dollars) I alleviated from them in times before, well, they won it all back and then some.
Down on the American side, gambling was legal and we bet on everything to include the game of throwing horse shoes to live scorpion fights, Poker, Darts, Black Jack, and side-betting on Chess Games to pass the time in a makeshift club called, “The Grand Sahara.” The club was off limits to non-Americans and that was a good thing too. Fifty Cents for a can of Budweiser. The women would literally fall out of their clothing at those prices – We would even bet on that too. I mean how many beers will it take before she’s fucking some dweeb in a goddamned broom closet or worse.
Naturally, I was nothing less than a celebrity in a morbid sort of way with my fellow Airmen. Sure, I was and still, an opportunist, and sucked it all up in my 15 minutes of shame.
As for the Egyptian people and my experiences, I loved the people. I had them in the best Reeboks you can buy fresh out of Germany. Eventually, the entire small village was sporting Reeboks.
Good footwear is essential no matter where you’re at.
I’ll stop here on this high note.
After all that I did, minus my ham thing in which not a single motherfucker knew about by the way. I was considered a part of that village and the people thereof. These memories, good, and the very little of the bad that I took from Southern Egypt. I shall treasure and never forget as long as I shall live. As to the strange events, solidly etched into my brain as another episode of the paranormal.
Please take a few minutes and tell me your experiences with the paranormal in the comment section below. Also, let me know what you think about the telling of this story in the written word and how I may improve upon it.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Douglas S. Taylor