Jerry had planned a surprise birthday party for me, and one of my sisters from California was planning to attend. Keep in mind that most everyone at the party was unaware of any of the details regarding the Taylors and my attachment to them.
My party went without a hitch, and I was totally caught by surprise. As the evening progressed, the moment came to open all my presents. I chose to first open my sister’s present. When I opened her gift I was so surprised and indeed shocked to discover that she had given me a wind chime! Even more shocking was the gift I was given from another friend. I opened her present next. She also, was unaware of the wind chime, and knew nothing of my experience at Mr. Taylor’s graveside.
My husband Jerry was totally in awe when I opened her gift—it was another wind chime! When I opened another smaller box from an elderly couple who lived in the condominium complex next to ours, and who, I found out later, Jerry had invited on short notice, I discovered their gift was also a wind chime, only smaller and made of glass! I received a total of three wind chimes. This was all too much; I broke down and cried right before everyone.
When I regained my composure, I explained to all my friends why I had reacted so emotionally. Jerry was surprised and very moved by the “coincidence” of these gifts. My sister explained that for some unknown reason she had had it in her head one day that I needed a wind chime. She explained to everyone that this urge was very strong, like a voice urging her to locate a wind chime for me. She decided to drive to several stores before she finally purchased the one she finally picked out for me. My other friend added that his reason for also purchasing a wind chime for me was due to a very vivid dream he had had about seeing one chiming in the wind, high above in a tree.
Obviously, this caused the people that were gathered at the party to ask me personal questions regarding the paranormal, and how we might decipher what ever meaning was being presented to me, given the strange coincidence that had transpired before us all. We all had somewhat different answers, but shared the same conclusion, the Taylors were still with me, and wanted to send me a sign from beyond the grave.
After my birthday party had ended and everyone had gone home, Jerry, my sister and I talked for a few more hours before going to bed about the unusually strange gifts I had received. To my own estimation, I believe that on some level Mrs. Taylor had something to do with this. The chance of three people giving me a similar gift was just too weird to disregard. I’ll always remember my 31st birthday and the gifts that I know Mrs. Taylor helped personally pick for me.
When the spring weather finally arrived in Aspen, my husband and I drove to the cemetery. We hung the three wind chimes my sister and my two friends had given me as gifts up on the branches of the two aspen trees. Since then, I’ve only gone back once and noticed that others unbeknown to me, who have visited the graveyard, have also taken up the loving gesture of suspending wind chimes among the trees in the cemetery. It’s a beautiful example of saying, “We love you, miss you, and present you with the gift of music to lull you to eternal sleep.”
BLACK CANYON OF THE GUNNISON
Exploring The Canyon
While the people of the Ute bands knew of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, for hundreds of years to many explorers it was an obscure geographic feature. The Spanish were the first Europeans to canvas western Colorado with two expeditions, one led by Juan Rivera in 1765, and the other by Fathers Dominguez and Escalante in 1776. Both were looking for passage to the California coast, and both passed by the canyon.
Fur trappers of the early 1800s undoubtedly knew of the canyon in their search for beaver pelts. They left no written record of the canyon, though, probably because they couldn’t, in fact, read or write.
By the middle of the century, exploration of the American West had captured the nation’s attention. In turn, expeditions came to the Black Canyon searching for railroad passageways, mineral wealth, or in a quest for water. Eventually, explorers came to see the canyon, not for commercial wealth, but for the renewal and recreation that it offered.
Today, you can walk in the footsteps of some of these hardy and inquisitive forbearers’. The canyon still offers a rugged and demanding experience, even as it did more than a hundred years ago.
Rita Manson’s Story
Rita and her best friend, Jeanette, were seated in Rita’s living room as I conducted the interview. Rita shared photos and personal stories unrelated to ghosts, regarding her husband and their life together. Jeanette was very interested in the subject of ghosts, and would occasionally interject with her own personal opinions. It was obvious to me that these elderly ladies were the best of friends, and at one time during my visit, Jeanette informed me that she had even once dated Rita’s husband, Bruce, when they both had attended high school, so many years ago.
That being said, Jeanette remained quiet once Rita began her personal story. Rita’s story offers insight into the spiritual mysteries that many Native Americans know exist, to this day, within the wild and rarely traveled areas of North America. Rita and her husband were witnesses to such an example of this, and as you’ll read, were never the same after their experience.
—Antonio
“Both my husband, Bruce, and I were born and raised in Montrose. Bruce died six years ago at the age of 75. The story I’ll be telling you took place when we went camping one week into the park. We were both in our early fifties, and still very active and physically fit.
The national park is a birdwatchers wonderland. Both Bruce and I were avid birders and even helped the park with counting migratory and non-migratory birds that nested, and yearly visited the park. My favorites were the raptors, such as hawks and eagles. Bruce enjoyed the park’s resident birds such as the American dippers, ravens, and jays.
Well, after hiking into the backwoods for several hours, and after having finished setting up our camp for the week to come, we decided to take a short walk into the woods. If you know the park, our camp was located off the North Rim Road, not far from Grizzly Gulch. Isolated, and yet very nicely situated for our data gathering needs.
Bruce and I went for a short hike and eventually came upon a meadow. It was midday. When we entered the meadow, I began to have a strange feeling come over me. I knew something was about to happen. It was a sunny day, and I had no health problems, but I suddenly began to feel weak and an oppressive heaviness began to affect my breathing. I was gasping for air. Bruce took hold of me and lay me down on the grass. I began taking shallow breaths as he shook me and spoke, “Rita, talk to me, talk to me!” Soon, I came to and began to sob like a little girl. I don’t know what it was that had affected me so severely, but whatever it was came and quickly left my body. I composed myself and told Bruce, “That was the strangest thing I have ever experienced. I’ve never felt so sad and depressed.”
There was no reason I could think of, no allergic reaction, or anything that would have caused me to have such an unusual attack of that degree. We held on to each other for a few minutes until I felt well enough to continue.