Halloween has sent more surprising things my way than ghosts.
Once, it sent Cleopatra.
Years ago, after a lecture, an elderly woman shared a story I'd never heard. Something had reportedly torn apart a family's smokehouse, leaving little behind except questions. Whatever it was, the locals had given it a name.
The Dover Monster.
I went looking.
Found a nearly forgotten village. Old graves. River-bottom roads where the fog settles thick and the woods have a way of going quiet when you'd rather they didn't.
I found a few empty barstools, too. Always worth checking.
The monster?
Well. That's another matter.
For this Halloween extra, I've got a little Wisconsin bourbon, a fire, and a story that managed to survive long after the town itself began disappearing.
Some things never make it into the history books.
Doesn't mean nobody remembers.
Some people carry a story their whole lives before the find someone to hand it to.
UnquietRealities.com
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