Chapter 6
“BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!” went the alarm at 7:30 Monday morning. Paul Brown rolled over and smacked the snooze button for the third time. His wife elbowed him in the ribs and reminded him that he had an appointment with Uncle Brandon and Mr. Krankovich at the bank at 9:15 this morning. Grudging he slid out of bed and reset the alarm for two hours later. Remembering to put on his new pair of slippers, he padded groggily down the hall to get ready.
Twenty minutes later Paul headed downstairs. Brandon had been up for nearly an hour and had already made a pot of tea. It was drizzly and cool out this morning, reminding Paul of his Air Force days in England. Feeling a little bit nostalgic he grabbed a mug sporting a bold Union Jack and poured himself a steaming cup before sitting down across from his uncle.
“Bill Bartlett was certainly acting a bit odd yesterday,” said Paul, stirring a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into his tea.
“Yes, Chuck and I were very surprised how he pushed to have the business meeting right away rather than waiting for next week. Quite unlike him.”
“At least he was a bit more subdued during the evening service.”
“True, but he still wasn't quite himself.”
Paul poured some milk into his tea and sipped it thoughtfully. “He seemed fine on Saturday. His wife said he was all right Sunday morning, too, at least until that bottle of oil burst on him. Uncle Brandon, did I ever tell you about the Tunoan oil curse?”
Brandon Hayes listened intently as his nephew explained the Tunoan oil curse. He had not heard of it specifically but was familiar with similar concepts from other parts of the world. When Paul finished Brandon leaned back in his chair and observed, “If that is what happened to Bill, then who and why?”
“Well, Uncle, that's something we will have to trust the Lord to reveal to us in His time.”
Brandon finished his tea and looked at the clock. They had nearly an hour to spare so Brandon headed off to his office to get a few things ready for the mail while Paul got his Bible and began to read. At nine o'clock Paul went up to make sure Karen was awake, checked on the kids. Alex was still sound asleep with Sicillia curled up at her feet. Ben was up and dressed and wanted to go with his dad. Jet lag had not bothered him as much as his sister. A few minutes later they clumped down the back stairs and climbed into the car with Brandon.
Arriving at the bank a few minutes after nine they found Chuck Krankovich and his son, Curtis, already there waiting. Heading inside, Chuck spoke with Mr. Thompson, the bank manager, who ushered them back to the vault housing the safety deposit boxes. They signed in and while one of the tellers brought out a slim, metal box, and laid it down on the table in front of them.
Producing a key from his wallet, Chuck Krankovich handed it over to Paul who carefully inserted it into the lock. Paul jiggled the key a little as he turned it before a dull click came from inside the recalcitrant lock. The men watched intently as Paul slowly lifted the cover. Not knowing exactly what to expect, they were surprised to find it filled with a number of newspaper clippings and some old photographs. A business-sized envelope addressed simply, “To the new Pastor,” lay flat across the bottom of the box as well.
Paul emptied the clippings on the table. Some were relatively recent while others were yellowed with age. The men sorted through them, reading bits and pieces aloud, while Paul opened the envelope.
Brandon whistled softly before observing, “These things must go back nearly 50 years.”
“Yes,” agreed Chuck, “It would seem that Pastor Williams began collecting them shortly after he became the pastor in 1953. Most of them have to do with unexplained or violent deaths, murders, and suicides. “There's also a bunch dealing with hauntings, ghosts, UFO's, and other unexplained phenomena in and around Wildwood over the years.
“Look at this,” said Curtis, “Here's an article from the mid 1950's. It says, '...living up to its reputation, Wildwood continues to lead the area in weird and unexplained happenings. Ed Morgan, of North Hametown Road, claims that a bright, glowing disc ran his car off the road last Friday night. Morgan, who denies drinking, said his car overturned in a ravine along the road and several small gray men with large round heads came out of the flying disk and surrounded him as he tried to crawl out of his car. The Summit County Sheriff's office reports that calls from Wildwood have been running three times higher than surrounding communities during the recent UFO flap.'”
“Here's more,” said Brandon, “Listen to these headlines: 'Killer Intersection Claims Family;' 'Lightning Strike Kills Golfers at Local Course;' 'Strange Happenings in the Wildwood;' 'Teen Suicide Pact Desecrates Civil War Memorial;' 'Local Town Listed in New Book: Number 24 in 100 Most Haunted Places in Ohio.' Some of these are really bizarre.”
“I always knew Pastor Williams had an interest in these things,” said Chuck, “But I guess I never knew how much.”
Paul, meanwhile, had opened the envelope from the bottom of the safety deposit box and began to read it.
“To my successor,” the letter began. “If you are reading this it is most likely that I have died either suddenly or unexpectedly. Please prayerfully consider what I have to say before dismissing it. My predecessor, Pastor Hunt, originally shared with me what I want to pass on to you.
“As you may know, Wildwood derives its name from the dense forest that dominated this area when it was settled in the early 1800's. The first settlers to arrive here came from Connecticut. Finding the area was largely avoided by the local Indians who believed that 'wild and untamed' spirits roamed the woods, they settled in without much opposition. Using a rough translation of the Indian's name for the area, they named their new settlement, Wildwood.
“They ignored the Indian stories as ignorant superstitions but were plagued by accidents and unexplained happenings. Finally, in 1808, they got together and sent back to Connecticut requesting a preacher be sent to start a church in the hope that it would hold back what they viewed as the 'forces of darkness at work in the wilderness.'
“In the spring of 1809, a brash young preacher by the name of Ian Hayes arrived from Hartford, Connecticut, with his young wife and baby girl. A gala celebration was held to welcome them and church services began the following Sunday. Several months later the people came together in a log cabin about half a mile north of the present church location on Center Road and organized the Wildwood Baptist Church on August 11, 1809.
“They met there for a nearly two years until a tragic fire took lives of Pastor Hayes' wife and daughter and destroyed their cabin in 1811. Injured himself and devastated by his loss, Pastor Hayes went back to Connecticut to recover.
“Three years later, he returned to Wildwood. Older and wiser, and with a greater confidence in the Lord, he soon gathered a number of the former members together and reorganized the church. With renewed zeal, tempered by a deeper understanding of the Word of God, Pastor Hayes led the church in a month long revival. Church members reconsecrated themselves to the Lord and determined to raise a new building dedicated to the Lord's work in the very center of 'the devil's dominion'.
“The new meeting house was raised on the corner of Center and CAK Roads, where the Civil War Memorial sits today. Pastor Hayes remarried a short time later and built a log cabin next door to the church where he began raising a new family.
“Things were fairly quiet until 1823 when two of his sons, along with a neighbor boy fell into a hole in the woods behind the church. Apparently they were hunting squirrels when the ground gave way under them. His one son, Thomas, managed to grab a tree root as he fell in and pulled himself out. Unable to help the other two, he ran back for help.
“As the story goes, Pastor Hayes and several other men followed Thomas back into the woods but were unable to rescue the boys. A thick, dark mist oozed out of hole, preventing them from seeing down in it.
“One of the men volunteered to go down so they tied a rope around his waist and lowered him slowly into the hole. Supposedly they lowered him down about 20 feet, almost to the end of their rope, when they felt him thrashing and jerking on the other end. They hollered down but got no answer so they began pulling him back up as quickly as they could.
“He was about half way up when all of sudden something began to pull him back. The men strained to hold him but whatever was pulling was too strong for them. They quickly looped the rope around a nearby tree and strained to keep from being drug in themselves as they refused to let go.
“Pastor Hayes, who was closest to the edge, said later that it was as if the mist had shaped itself into icy chains around his feet, dragging him in. He cried out to the Lord with a loud voice as he felt himself slipping over the edge.
“The pulling stopped abruptly, causing the men to suddenly pitch backward. Falling onto each other and nearly losing their grip on the rope, they quickly recovered and pulled their friend out of the pit.
“Pastor Hayes, the first see him, fell back in shock as he reached out to pull him up over the edge. The man was cold as ice and as pale as death. His thick black hair had turned white. The only evidence that he was still alive was his wide staring eyes and a few flecks of foam that formed at his thin, taunt, bluish lips as he panted rapidly. He looked, like he had seen the devil himself.
“They brought the man back to the church and one of the men immediately began ringing the church bell. Another raced of on his horse to get the doctor who lived about a mile away. A second rescue party headed off into the woods. The mist had cleared away but they were unable to find any trace of the boys.
“According to the story Pastor Hunt had heard, the church held an all night prayer vigil for the boys, and the man they had pulled out of the hole. Several days later they fitted the hole with a thick wooden cap and covered it with several feet of dirt.
“Apparently, some sort of marker was placed above the hole as both a warning and a memorial for the two boys that were lost in it. What sort of marker, I do not know. Its location is unknown as well.
“As you can see by the clippings included in the box with this letter, I have chronicled a series of accidents, mysterious and tragic deaths, and various strange happenings in Wildwood through the years. What you may not notice is that these events seem to run in two cycles of twelve and thirty years each.
“Every twelve years there seems to be a peak of bizarre, violent, and odd events. Pastor
Hayes wife and children were killed in 1811. His son and the other boy died in twelve years later in 1823. The Wildwood Baptist Church building burned along with, if the rumors are true, a number of escaped slaves in 1859. The cycle continues down through the years. For instance, Deacon Brandon Hayes wife, along with his sister, Kathleen Brown, and her husband, Andrew, died at one of the twelve year peaks, in 1979.
“The second cycle, the thirty-year cycle is similar to the first. The major difference is that it seems to correspond to a surge in weird, almost supernatural phenomena. The latest peak was in 1973 when a rash of UFO sightings was reported in and around Wildwood. It was also one of the roughest years for our church as well.
“Occasionally these two cycles coincide with each other. Those years seem to be the worst. For example, it was in 1823 that the story of the hole occurred. The next convergences came in 1883, the year of the Wildwood earthquake, and 1943 when the old state mental hospital burned down out on Nathaniel Road, killing 89 residents and five area firefighters. Narsch Industries nearly bought the church property that year as well. They claimed they wanted to locate the headquarters of the Narsch Foundation here along with a research and conference center.
“The next convergence will occur in 2003. I am confident that the good Lord will see us through yet trepidatious about what might happen. I also fear that Simon Narsch will redouble his efforts to obtain our property between now and then for his one-world, new age Foundation.
“Please consider this letter and the enclosed information prayerfully. I believe the devil is hard at work in Wildwood opposing the work of God.
“May the Lord bless you as you assume the oversight of His church.”
The letter was signed simply, “Bro. John.”