When I was a child of about 11, I had a friend and his name was Alan. Alan would sing me songs, and bring me candy. My father owned a gas station combination store. My father never told me this but he had caught Alan stealing from the store, and was not allowed to come there alone.
My fathers store was in a fork in the road, the road that went straight went to the Swannee River, and the road that turned left went to the Okefenokee Swamp.
One night I was helping my father close the store, doing the books and such. The store had two huge picture windows. We both look up and a car is coming up the road, then one of its headlights went out. My dad says someone must have hit a deer. The car continues down the road then turns left down the swamp road, when it did a terrible scrapping sound occurred. The car stops, then backs up and my friends bicycle falls off the front of the car. I started yelling that the car had killed my friend.
My dad and I go there where it happened, and sure enough my friend was dead.
On the way home from his funeral, I was walking on a dirt road, I heard something behind me, I turned around and there he was, in the clothes he was killed in, I could tell what he was wearing but I could see through it. About three years later we moved to Jacksonville Fl, we had a short on our light outside, it went out; I went to fix it, and there he was standing again, in the same clothes he was killed in, I could tell what he was wearing, but I could see through them. There is much more to this story then I am allowed to write on these pages. I will tell you when he was killed his mother thought that she heard him, she even called out, Alan are you ok? She heard him say "yes mom I am fine" this was heard after he was dead.
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