Growing up on the farm in south L.A. not California, but " Lower Alabama ", recreation was not the same as today. Most of my time was spent, when I had free time, runnin the creek swamps that fill that part of Alabama.

On occasion Pa would allow me to go to the high school and attend a basketball game or some other sports activity. The shcool was about 2 1/2 or 3 miles from where we lived at the time. Very few of the people in the rural areas had automobiles at the time. Mules and wagons were the main source of transportation. Some of the boys my age (12 not old) had bicycles. I didn't have one so I depended on "Pat" and "Thump." My right foot and then my left. Walking was my cheif mode of transportation.

One Friday night Pa let me go to a basketball game at the school, the game was over around 10:30 that night. I left the school in high spirits because our team had won greatly over the visiting team. Leaving the school I started on the 3 mile walk home. The night was pleasant with a big full moon. Ya know, the kind of night that gives you an errie feeling. When shadows are created by the moonlight and noises made by all of God's creatures, you know the ones that only come out at night.

The road that I had to walk, went right by the cemetary at Pleasant Hill, where it was rumored that people had seen a ghost on several occasions. Topping the hill I could see the tombstones and grave markers in the moon lit distance. My heart jumped into my throat!!... what I saw next was beside the fence that surrounded the cemetary. A white figure of something. It was jumping around and making some of the strangest sounds, that I'd ever heard. I knew that I wasn't gonna walk on by it or get any closer to that thing than I already was!!! I had only one option, detour. So, I cut accross the field and through the woods and took the back way home. Adding about a mile farther than I had to go to get home.

When I got home Pa was still up, seeing how it was Friday night and Friday night was a late night radio time for country folks. I came in all scared up, out of breath and told Pa, "There is something at the cemetary, let's get the shotgun and go back to see what it is." I could be very brave with Pa and his shotgun. Pa just shook his head and smiled and said "It will wait 'til morning to come".

The next morning I could hardly wait for Pa to walk back up to the cemetary and try to find if the thing that I saw had left any signs.As we approached the sight, we could see a white pile beside the fence. As we got up close, it was plain to see that it was a big white goose. It was also plain to see what had happened. The goose had gotten his head stuck in the fence and was trying to free himself.

This is how the story of "The Feathered Ghost of Pleasant Hill" was born. I got kidded about my ghost sighting for a longtime after it happened. Friends would always ask me, "Bobby Gene have you seen any more ghost lately."

Author Bobby Bottoms

© Copyright 2005 Bobby G. Bottoms

Special Thanks to Irenes Corner