From the affluent ski town of Aspen to the lesser known community of Eads, Colorado is unlimited in its offering of ghosts. I visited all of these communities and recorded the first ever concise, and true eye witness accounts of Colorado’s ghosts, directly given to me by those who have experienced first-hand en- counters. Their stories were numerous and it was difficult for me to eliminate some while retaining others. I know that after reading these stories, you will be transferred to another manner of thought about the existence of ghosts. I cannot be any clearer than to state—ghosts are real. Believe me, ghosts do exist.
As I traveled Colorado’s historic boomtowns, the mining camps, the urban cities, occasional forlorn highways and seemingly deserted communities, examples of Colorado’s past were everywhere to be seen. No doubt some have changed dramatically throughout the years, while others have retained their historic character, remaining in their current state of disrepair. My expedition into Colorado’s paranormal past and present was undoubtedly an eye opening experience for me. Admittedly, I willingly learned new objectives, new insights which added to my already rich personal repository of experience and knowledge. For all this I am grateful. Enjoy.
— Antonio R. Garcez
ANTONITO
Situated north of the New Mexico state line, in the San Luis Valley, is the small town of Antonito. The area has a rich cultural heritage and history provided by the colonial settlements of the Spanish and Anglo. Additionally etched deeply in its pre-European contact is the area’s heritage of the Native American. The Cumbres & Toltec Railroad, which leaves daily from Antonito’s old train station, is a big draw for visitors.
Antonito is composed primarily of a friendly, working class residential community, surrounded by an expanse of high desert plains. It was built by the railroad as a community whose primary function was to house Anglos, who wanted to distance themselves from the pre-established Hispanic town of Conejos, which lies just a few miles north of town. As Interstate 285 traverses its central core, in the distance to the east can be seen the Culebra Range of spectacular mountains which remain as sentinels, eye witnesses to Antonito’s agrarian history.
Edward H. Saunders’ Story
Edward is a character of sorts. He’s wheelchair bound, but that has not put a damper on his lively attitude to life. As we talked at his kitchen table, we were interrupted with phone calls from two friends; one being a woman who he stated was a girlfriend. My interview lasted for just about two hours, but the impression this jovial man left with me will linger for definitely much longer.
— Antonio
“I was born in Columbus, Ohio, 88 years ago. In 1967, my wife, Vivian, and I moved to Denver and 14 years later, after her death, I decided to move to Antonito. I’ve been living here ever since that day.
I lost the use of both legs due to a truck accident I had while driving for a freight company. That accident happened about four years after my wife and I had moved to Denver. The odd thing about that accident was that I was not even driving the truck at the time. I was getting ready to enter the truck, when another truck came by and struck me. I was holding on to my truck’s door handle, pulling myself up and getting into the cab. After taking my first step up, the other driver misjudged his turn and scraped me off my truck, and I dropped to the ground. The injuries were to my lower legs. The accident happened so quickly all I can remember of the accident is a loud noise and nothing else. The bones in both my legs were crushed. Since that time, I’ve never been able to fully walk on my own. And since then I’ve had to use this wheelchair you see me in.
I did get a bit of insurance money, but not much at all is left of that insurance settlement. The rents are low here in Antonito; I don’t need much in the way of entertainment and fancy food, so I do all right here. Now it’s just me and my dog Blacky. Its just me and this crazy little dog that misses me like the dickens whenever I leave her at home for any short length of time.
So, you’d like to know about my ghost story? Well, I haven’t told anyone except for a few close friends at the senior center. And as you told me, that’s how you found out about me, one of then gals must have told you about the old man in the wheelchair who’s seen ghosts. Once I tell you my story, you’ll only be one of the few who’ll know of it.
Well, approximately five years ago, in the early evening, about 6 or 7 p.m., I was in my backyard watering plants in the yard and filling a birdbath that was by a tree. My dog Blacky was in the house. It was not an unusual evening at all. Suddenly, I heard Blacky begin to loudly bark as if he were in danger, or alerting me to danger of some kind. I turned my wheelchair around to face the back door and I saw a large man standing at the door, staring back at me from inside my house!
I didn’t recognize this guy, but I was able to clearly make out his features. He was about 50 or so years old, with a very thick and dark moustache. His face was big and round, and his shoulders were very broad. His overall appearance gave me the impression that his intentions were not very positive. He didn’t move a muscle when I called to him, “Who are you, what are you doing in my house?” Blacky was barking uncontrollably. Again I called to him, “Who are you?” I began to feel really uneasy because he refused to respond to my words. I felt helpless but determined to find out who this man was, and what he was doing inside my house.
He and I both stood looking at each other, not making any movements. I admit that I was confused as to what to do next. But something inside of me urged me to stand my ground and make the first move toward him. I dropped the water hose and began to push the wheels of my wheelchair towards the house. Just then I saw this man turn and move away from the door, and move within the darkened house. Blacky was still in the house barking, but then abruptly stopped! I was instantly gripped by a fear that was paralyzing!
I was sure shaken up! I just knew that this man had hurt or even killed my dog. My spirit sank, I felt so helpless. In my soul I knew that something awful had just taken place. As I rolled up the short ramp that led up to my back door, I grabbed the knob, turned it and entered my house.
Strangely, as I entered the kitchen and turned on the light, the atmosphere of the room had a thickness to it, and at the same time, the room was very, very cold. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before or since. It was as if an invisible blanket of intense darkness had been placed over me. And even though the light was on, It did nothing to remove my fear. I was scared because I knew that something evil was very close to me. I began to shake with a freezing, shivering coldness. The whole house gave me the sensation that it was totally being over taken by this bitter cold. I knew that something had happened to my Blacky because normally he would come running directly to me when I’d come into the house. I nervously and in a shaky voice yelled out, “Whoever you are you better get running or else!” There was only silence.
I managed to roll myself over to the doorway that leads into the living room and when I entered the room I spotted Blacky cowering under one of the chairs. I wanted to look around in every room of my small home to see if the stranger was still in the house, but I was in no physical state to risk being hurt. I called to Blacky to come to me, but he would not budge.
I reached for the phone to call my neighbor, who lived one house away from mine. He answered and said that he would be right over. In just a few minutes I heard him call to me from the outside, then he turned the knob on my front door. The door was locked! Given all that had happened, I had forgotten to unlock my front door. I rolled over to the front door and opened it.
When my neighbor entered I quickly explained in short