The Swamp Road Chronicles



"Corn Stalker"

Swamp Road Chronicles,

I had the most terrifying experience of my life on Swamp Road. My friend lived very close to Swamp Road, just about 100 yards from the south end of it. If you live around here you probably remember it. It was an old, old house, it was very run-down. It was just logs at one time but someone had later put wooden boards all around it to make it look more modern. It had been painted a lemon-lime color a long time ago by someone who lived there. It was the ugliest home on Palmer Rd. My friend told me so; he told everyone that. He spoke the truth.


Anyway, we had snuck and gone fishing at Old Man Martin's farm pond and we stayed too late. The fishing had been good, but then, I had to walk home on Swamp Road in the dark. I was pretty jumpy, but I had my Barlow pocket knife on me and that helped make me feel safer. I kept it open and in my hand, just in case.


The old swamp had been drained out long ago and the farmer planted crops where the water used to stand. My dad says that there is no richer land anywhere than black soil from a drained swamp. It grows great crops, he says. Well, I can tell you, that year the farmer had planted the fields in corn and it was at least 10 feet tall, dark green and each stalk had huge ears of corn. There were thousands of rows of corn out in that field. It was late summer and the corn was at its peak.


As I walked up Swamp Road toward Route 40 I was surrounded on both sides by those tall, dense rows upon rows of field corn. I kept thinking about that horror movie "Children of the Corn" and how homicidal maniac kids would run out of the corn and stab you in the eye. When you are walking late at night past fields of corn that is not a good movie to think about.


As I was walking I realized that there were sounds coming from the cornfield on my right that sounded like someone was walking between the cornrows and keeping up with me. I would stop and the noise would stop. I would hurry and the sounds of someone or something walking in the corn would speed up too! I was terrified! I didn't know what to do. I never felt so all alone. I grasped my pocket knife tightly and determined to fight to the death, if necessary.


After about 10 minutes of this, I reached the end of the cornfield and as I kept going, I looked over my shoulder to see if anything came out of the corn to chase me. I never saw anything. I have been told by others that they have had the same experience when passing cornfields late at night. If its the wind, or spirits or Bigfoot or ghosts; whatever it is, I wish to God it would quit. If you ever have to walk by rows of corn late at night, you should expect to hear the same thing, but don't worry, it won't attack you. I guess.


As submitted by Mickey Mosely, Hebron, Ohio 10-1-22


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