As he re-entered the brush, unlike before, we didn’t hear any of the twigs breaking under his footsteps. Ralph and I looked at each other and jumped off the trunk, ran inside the car and quickly locked the doors! We knew this was no tramp. It had to be a ghost! You had to be there to feel the energy to know that this was a real ghost. What else could it have been?
We spent the night, scared and hoping for a car to stop, or for the morning to quickly arrive. We were scared! We kept thinking that the ghost was going to appear to us again, only this time at the car’s windows! Our imaginations kept us from sleeping. We tried to think about other things, but it was difficult not to keep focusing on the ghost. We kept the car’s inside dome light on, and the radio tuned loudly to a rock station. Eventually, because we were so tired, we finally did fall asleep.
As the hours slowly past, sometime before dawn, we were wakened by a passing truck with two guys who were headed for the town of Sells. They sure did give us a good scare when they knocked on the car’s window, but soon we were introducing ourselves, and they offered to take us home. The guys told us they were artists driving from California. They were on a photography trip, taking pictures of the desert and Indians for an art project. We tied one end of a rope to the back of their truck and the other end to the front of our car, and they towed us home. We never mentioned to them of our experience with the ghost the night before. But when we did get home that morning, we wasted no time in telling my aunt and her family everything. Everyone agreed that what we had experienced was the ghost of an ancient Indian from the spirit world. Since my encounter with that ghost, I’ve decided, if at all possible, never to drive at night through the desert again.”
Hopi
(Hopituh)
The Hopi reservation lies within the larger Navajo reservation in the northeast quadrant of Arizona. The nearest town of Tuba City is located to the west while the largest city of Flagstaff is located to the southwest. The Hopi area itself is quite isolated by many miles of desert and canyons. Highway 264 provides the major access to and from the reservation. When mentioning the Hopi or Hopituh nation, it is difficult not to focus on such essential elements as farming and gardening. Existing and thriving in a desert environment is testament to the adaptive ability of these unique and deeply spiritual people. Hopi can trace their physical ancestral birth to their homeland as being approximately 1200 and earlier. Archaeologically, garden terraces at Third Mesa or Bacavi prove this. Farming methods used in times past are still in use to this day. Examples are the ingenious use of gardens located on mesa walls, which are irrigated terraces that are water fed by the villages located above.
Another method is “dry farming.” This technique involves the planting of seed within arroyos (washes) and valleys located on the lower plateaus where seasonal rain produces the moisture necessary for their germination and growth.
The Hopi cosmology is composed of four worlds, or “ways of life.” At the present time, the Hopi believe that they are in the fourth way. As they moved from the third way to the forth way, they and other people were offered corn by the creator, or Ma’saw. Aside from the Hopi, all the other people eagerly and boldly took the largest of the corn that was offered. The Hopi in turn were left with the shortest and smallest blue corn. The Hopi immediately knew that this was symbolic of their life to come, as it too would be short and difficult. Thus, their response was to manifest the virtues of cooperation, humility and respect among themselves and others. They also knew that the earth was a wonderful and giving, living spirit and its healthiness would depend on the Hopi people as its caretakers.
Today the Hopi live in four separate and autonomous mesas or villages, and within each village are sub-communities. First Mesa includes Waalpi (Walpi), Hanoki (Hano or Tewa), and Sitsomovi (Sichomovi). Second Mesa includes: Songoopavi (Shongopavi), Musungnuvi (Mishongnovi) and Supawlavi (Shipaulovi). Third Mesa includes Hoatvela (Hotevilla), Paaqavi (Bacavi), Munqapi (Moencopi), Kiqotsmovi (Kykotsmovi), and Orayvi (Oraibi).
Donald First Cry’s (Hopi) Story
Oh boy, what a story you’re about to read. As you might imagine, conducting the research for all my writing has always placed me in a needed situation to travel about the southwest. And because of this traveling I have had to spend many nights in hotels and out of the way motels. Some of these establishments definitely have appealing qualities while others have me praying for the rescuing morning light to make my escape. Donald’s story might offer you to consider other “issues” when picking a hotel room—“extra” questions you might need to ask the front desk. His and his wife’s encounter with the spiritual world in their hotel room might just also change your own future thoughts regarding a vacation.
— Antonio
“My girlfriend Becky and I are both Hopi. I’ve spent most of my life on the reservation, except when I left to work for eight years in San Diego, California. My older brother and I were offered well-paying jobs as roofers in new home construction. Becky has worked at the reservation school cafeteria for just a couple of months, and we plan to get married next year. My experience with a ghost took place two years ago. Up to that time I had never had any kind of spooky stuff happen to me. I know that a lot of ghostly things do take place in the hills and mesas that surround our tribal lands, but I never really paid much attention to the stories. Anyway, two years ago Becky and I spent a summer weekend in the gambling town of Laughlin, Nevada. We never thought this short get-a-way was going to be anything but a fun time. We’ve driven together to Laughlin many times before without ever having encountered a ghost. So this first weird experience shook us up for a long time afterwards.
Whenever we’ve driven to Laughlin, our normal routine is to arrive at a hotel; check into a room, then hit the “one arm bandits” downstairs. We’ve both done this since we were in our early twenties. Sometimes we win big, and sometimes we lose, but we have a good time nonetheless. This time, we arrived at the hotel on a Friday evening at around 7 p.m. We checked into a room on the 14th floor with a view of the Colorado River below. We emptied our suitcases of clothes, which we hung on hangers in the closet. Then we decided to watch a little television before heading to the lobby downstairs for a bite to eat. As at other times, we both knew we would spend most of the night gambling, so we were in no hurry.
As we were lying on the bed watching a comedy show, I felt an uneasy feeling strangely come over me, a feeling of depression that I had never experienced before. I thought that maybe I was getting the flu or had gotten food poisoning from lunch. I also felt a sort of a weird “thickness” come over me. I know it sounds strange, but I felt something like a cold mud had covered me. I couldn’t make sense of why I was suddenly feeling so bad. At one point, I looked away from the television and focused my eyes to the open window. Without being conscious of it, I began to think crazy thoughts of darkness covering me like a cloud. I began to shake like a leaf. My heart was throbbing and I was filled with a sense of dying. Becky must have noticed something was up, because I felt her hand touch my shoulder and say, “Donald, Donald what’s the matter?” I answered, “Nothing, I’m just not feeling too good. Maybe I’m getting a cold or the flu.” I told Becky that I needed to close my eyes and rest, but she looked at me funny and said, “You’re drenched in perspiration, Donald, just look at you.” I told her that I would be all right, but I needed to