Half Moon Bluff  

okiecountryboy4u 67M
1 posts
3/12/2006 8:01 am
Half Moon Bluff


Half Moon Bluff

The year was 1966 and as a sixteen year old with a brand new drivers license and hot 57 Chevy I thought I was on top of the world.

Having grown up around Native Americans and pioneer settlers of this area I had heard nearly all of their haunting stories. Now as a mid teen boy with a dangerously elevated hormone level the logical thing to do was tell a girl one of the stories and take her ghost hunting.

My good friend Harold thought the plan was great, but had a few flaws. One was that a girl hearing the story would think I was nuts and be to afraid to go alone with a crazy guy. The other was maybe she would be to frightened by the story and refuse to go if it was just the two of us. He suggested the solution to both problems was that he should get a date and come along. What a pal.

We did successfully convince two girls to attend our ghost hunting adventure and as we drove to the location I told everyone the morbid tale that led up to the haunting.

It seems a few families had gathered their cattle together for a cattle drive to Missouri, as they had done numerous times before. One of the farmers wives was acting as the cook on the drive and out of necessity had brought her two young sons along. Each family had moved their cattle to the agreed staging area at "Half Moon Bluff" where there was plenty of grass and a creek with good clean water.

The area was a flat, grass covered valley with a slow running and ice cold natural spring that fed "Clear Creek" in Cherokee County, Oklahoma. There was only one way in and out down the extremely steep east side of the valley. The west side was even more steep and impassable. The stream in the valley came from deep in the earth at the base of a seventy five foot tall solid rock wall in the shape of a crescent moon at the south end of the valley. It was a great staging area with a natural corral.

Once everyone had arrived with their cattle, the night before the drive was to start, the farmers wife busied herself making dinner for all the men. Her two sons busied themselves with play in and around their mothers make shift chuck wagon.

As the cowboys settled down to their meal she called for her sons, and called for her sons, but they didn't answer! The men put their tin plates down and began to search for the boys. Everyone called and called but there was no answer.

Finally one man came to the edge of the clear water of the ice cold creek. Even in the moonlight the bottom could be seen and there on the bottom lay the two boys, holding hands!

To this day you can stand at the edge of the creek at "Half Moon Bluff", hold your hands out from your side and feel the boys take you by the hand. They seem to be like "Guardians" of the creek and only want to guide you safely to the other side of the creek.

With my haunted tale now told I drove my 57 Chevy down the steep hill and over to the bank of the creek stopping with the front tires just short of the water. All four of us were in the front seat. The girls understood the story and what was to be done. Harold and I rolled the windows down and his date, reluctantly, leaned across in front of him placing her hand out the open window on the passengers side. With a little coaxing my date followed suit and leaned across my chest reaching one arm out the drivers window. Harold and I looked at each other and smiled!

For two sixteen year old boys this was absolutely amazing. We had struck upon the greatest gimmick since the beginning of mankind!

My date shuttered and announced that she felt as if someone or something had gently taken her by the hand. Her friend confirmed she could also feel something very very cold grasping her hand.

"Letís drive across," my date whispered. "Yes," in a whispered reply came from the other side of the car. Harold glanced at me with a raised eyebrow and a silly looking grin.

With a foot on the brake I reached around my date and put the cars automatic transmission in drive. I eased my foot from the brake wondering if I had that same silly grin I had seen on Haroldís face.

We made our short trip across the creek at an idle, in my opinion at the time, totally uneventful. Nothing had happened as far as I could tell. But it was obvious that the girls saw it differently. They were beyond giddy. They were behaving like those girls I had seen on television at a "Beetles" or "Elvis" concert!

As their excitement came under control my date looked at me and said, "Letís do it again." That wasnít a problem because there was only one way out of there and we had to get back across. Once again the girls assumed their positions, but this time without any encouragement from either Harold or myself. There was no doubt in my mind that I had that silly grin now!

This time as we crossed I applied slight pressure to the brake. Even though we were only traveling about one mile per hour my date yelled, "Donít stop!" Without thinking my foot moved to the accelerator causing the engine to roar as we dashed to the other side.

That one little mistake. Simply touching the brake. It was amazing how such a little thing could result in such a dramatic mood swing in a young girl. Once I brought the car to a safe stop my date began to frail at me and yell about how stupid I was. Harold laughed and his date turned on him echoing her friends comments.

What a disaster!

We managed to smooth things over as we took the girls back to their homes. Still wondering to ourselves what it was that set them off, Harold and I went about our lives never to date the two of them again. That decision wasnít the girls, it was a decision me and Harold made two weeks later.

I had grown up hunting and fishing and thought that "Half Moon Bluff" may be a good place to scout for deer sign and check out some fishing in the creek. Harold agreed so we made plans for an overnight camping trip two weeks following our adventure with the girls.

Once again I drove my car down the steep hill onto the valley floor. Harold pointed out the still visible ruts my tires had dug in the soft earth as we raced back to this side of the creek. He said, "Thereís where we crossed. Drive across and lets see if thereís a good camp site on the other side."

Without a care in the world I turned the car toward where we had crossed before and gunned the engine. By the time the front tires touched the water there was no turning back. The front bumper of my car dove under the waters surface and came to rest in four feet of water.

Harold stayed with the car while I walked nearly two miles to a farm house and a phone!

Over the years I have researched several stories passed on to me by the elder Native Americans and pioneer settlers of this area. I have not always been successful in my searches but the few that do prove eventful keep me searching.

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