That Ruined Our Trip
Once, my father went camping at a non-commercial campground, which is usually more secluded, with no camp manager or outhouses. It was during early spring so it was still pretty cold out, and there wouldn’t be many people out there camping. There was only my dad, a few of his buddies, and a rough-looking old Chevy with a makeshift, Frankenstein-esque camper mounted on it just a few sites down.
Being sociable and considerate campers, my dad and a couple of other guys went to say hi to their neighbor and let them know to holler if they were being too loud while they were there for the weekend. The guy they met was a seemingly nice man who was minding his own business and politely thanked them for introducing themselves.
He looked like he’d been out there for a few weeks, with a clothesline up and everything. During my father’s three-night stay, the group would wave at their neighbor occasionally and invited him over for coffee in the morning once. After they didn’t hear or see him for a couple of days, they didn’t think much and ended up finishing their stay.
On the way out of the campground, they passed his camp, which was still set up the way it was when they went to say hello. My dad was driving his truck toward the exit with a friend in it, who shouted at him to stop because he thought he saw something. My dad saw it as well from the corner of his eye while driving, but assumed his mind was playing tricks on him. What they had just seen was haunting.
He really did see the guy hanging from the tree and not just a plastic bag. They got out and dialed 9-1-1 their spotty reception. The scene was pretty horrific. My dad recalls a note stuck to the tree with a buck knife. He was too sickened to read it, but he felt bad for the guy and always says how badly he wanted to cut him down from the tree, although he obviously couldn’t save him because he had been long gone.
Officer and the ambulance showed up. The group got a “thank you” and were sent on their way after getting some information about the situation. The creepiest part of this story, though, was the fact that it occurred at my dad’s favorite campsite, which we were staying at when he told us. He waited until we weren’t kids anymore to say anything about it, but it still gets to me.