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Dudleytown Detour by obiwan [Reviews - 0]

from: Sam Gammons
to: obiwanghoststories@gmail.com
date: Fri, Mar 28, 2008 at 12:28 PM
subject: Being drawn to Dudleytown?

I took down my memories from an incident about 8 years ago, definitely
a true story. The other girls that I was with at the time may not put
as much stake in the paranormal, but parts of this experience were too
odd to all be coincidental. I hope you enjoy!


"While this experience happened a number of years ago, and has not had
any direct bearing on my life, I find it interesting nevertheless. I
grew up mostly in western Connecticut, and though my family moved
around a lot in my teens I attended summer camp every year in
Cornwall, CT. In total I attended or worked at the camp for eight
summers, and in the last three years I worked there. During the sixth
summer (I was 15-16 at the time) I had a strange experience with the
other girls I was a CIT (Counsellor in Training) with while we were
hiking outside at night. "Hiking outside at night? What made you
think that was a good idea?" you might ask, but rest assured there was
good reason. One class held every week culminated in an overnight
camping trip, and one of our friends was supervising the overnight.
We decided that since she was going to be sitting out alone in the
middle of the woods making sure all the girls actually went to bed she
might benefit from some company, and about five or six of us headed
out with flashlights to find the campsite.

Just to clarify, this camp is by no means large. It sits on one side
of a commercial ski mountain on a large lake. The campsite our friend
was at was alongside a wooded path at the far side of the camp's
boundaries, a lovely walk during the day, but a couple of my friends
were really timid and nervous about walking around at night, even
though we had all attended the camp for years and years and obviously
grown used to being in the dark alone. It wasn't a frightening place,
other than the darkness and raccoons. We started out on our walk
between 9:30 and 10pm, followed the wooded path out to a wide gravel
road that led to another boat launch site, and remembered that our
friend had told us not to go towards the lake (off to the right); the
site wasn't far from that turn-off.

None of us had ever actually been to the site itself, and were a
little on edge as we started walking away from the water, up the wide,
gravel-covered road, because there were lots of animal noises around
us and it was –dark-, like the deep woods get at night in summertime.
There really was no reason for any of us to actually feel afraid,
because the wildlife was more or less accustomed to people and stayed
scarce when people were around. Also, we were on a road, not lost in
the middle of the woods.

We kept walking for what seemed a relatively short time but didn't see
any sign of a campsite. When someone would suggest we turn back
another person would suggest that we walk "just a little farther," and
I remember feeling inclined to keep walking, because the campsite must
be just a little farther up the road. We had started walking uphill
significantly, and eventually someone gave an ultimatum, saying we'd
been out for more than an hour walking and she was scared to walk any
further. I was skeptical, even though I too had begun to feel
somewhat uneasy. We turned around. I had an odd feeling through the
whole walk back that I shouldn't turn around, which probably spooked
me more than anything else. We nearly missed out turn back to camp,
and when we made it back to the camp's center we found the Camp
Director and several maintenance workers looking panic-stricken. They
told us it was past midnight and our friend who had been out on the
overnight had brought her campers back less than an hour earlier when
she found out there was going to be a powerful thunderstorm hitting.
She hadn't known where we were, knew we had planned to come visit her,
and went straight to the Director so we could be found.

We explained what had happened, how we couldn't find the campsite, how
we kept walking, hadn't any inclination that we'd been out for as long
as we had, and our friend looked confused. It wasn't possible, she
explained, that we couldn't have seen her campsite—they had camped at
a small site right off of the little wooded path we'd first walked
down and had built up a large fire that was easily visible from the
path for some ways in either direction.

We shrugged it off as just a strange experience, but when you add
everything up the explanation that "we just missed seeing you, kept
going, turned off, and walked up a gravel road for a couple miles"
never sit quite right with me. I didn't learn the strangest part of
the story until a couple of years ago. There is a small town located
within an uninhabited portion of Cornwall and Cornwall Bridge, CT,
called either Dudleytown or Dudleyville, depending on the account.
The "ghost town" so to speak is called one of the most haunted places
in the country, with a long history of inhabitant mental illness,
disappearances, murder, ghost sightings, etc. Some of the most
poignant stories of the strange goings-on of Dudelytown have been
recently documented—spirit sightings, orbs, mechanical failure, cold
spots—and the most startling discovery for me was the knowledge that
Dudleytown was located just a few miles away from my camp, and,
according to my map readings, further along up the road we had walked
on that night and down another turn-off.

I have wondered why it was that we kept on walking that night, even
though a couple of people were very scared, why I felt like we should
just keep walking, why we missed seeing that plainly visible fire, why
I felt I shouldn't turn and look behind me, and if we had just
continued walking along that road, what would have happened if the
storm had hit while we were out."

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