Ghost Story

We all have a few ghost stories in our lives. Paul and I lived in Creston, Iowa for 26 years - and that town has a few stories that we have adopted as our own. I've not been blogging about much lately - mostly because I've felt like crap! That doesn't mean I've not thought of you, dear reader. I've just thought of myself more. #memyshoulderi'msotired

Here's the good news - the fog seems to be parting. My shoulder has taken a turn for the better (about time, huh?). And I'm staring to feel like doing the little things - like cooking and blogging. Hey, what do you know. Maybe those T3 and T4 levels (thyroid hormones) are regulating. Hoohah!

Anyway - I've been thinking of this blog since Halloween. Creston has some scary lore. It's an old railroad town and just radiates with good stories. None of these actually have anything to do with the railroad...

When Paul and I first moved to town I worked at First National Bank. That was where I learned of the Haunted House on Higbee. I think the bank I gotten it back on a re-possession. The lore was a man had hung himself on the upper floor of the once impressive home in a nice older part of town. I imagined it similar to the house from the movie "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken." Loved that show! We used to drive by the place...just because it was creepy. Eventually some nice people bought it and fixed it up.

Next, when I was preggers with Judson David Goldsmith (but before we knew that who the little bugger would be) and Bobbie McFee was with child (Kimberly McFee), we learned of a creepy headstone at Graceland Cemetery just south of Creston. The story is that it was installed by an upset widow, who thought her husband was somewhat of a dick - so  made sure the tombstone was shaped like that piece of male anatomy. Goldsmiths and McFees decided to view this creepy appendage stone on a cold winter night after hanging out at the Cromwell Tap.

This is the cemetery entrance...not the special stone

Due to our pg condition, Bobbie and I weren't even inebriated. But we were under the influence of hormones... nonetheless it what creepy out there, looking at the stone at night. A few years later, in the light of day, I dragged some of my fam out there to see the thing - even posing Sarah Kohan with it. Creston Lore at its best!

As young Creston parents we'd heard our friends talk about an abandoned farmstead outside of Creston - Hooker's Farm. The Hooker family had evidently taken off in a hurry - leaving furniture and home furnishings behind - making it a great party house for youngsters. There are many stories about Hooker's Farm - but I just have one. The time the Goldsmiths visited the place.

Bob Hudek (RIP Bobby)

It was Bob Hudek's 45th? birthday - being celebrated at Nancy and Kenton Groth's house on Prairie. I'll admit it, some drinks were drunk. At one point we sang, "bare your butt Bob" and were treated to a nice Bob H. moon. It was summer and the kids were entertaining themselves. When it got dark someone suggested that we should visit Hooker's Farm!

We piled into several vehicles - kids and all - and drove up the long dirt lane. We had a few flashlights - not enough though. I know Amy was there but don't remember if Jud was. We were in the dining room and of course others tried to jiggle things and scare us. It worked! I believe the old place has now been razed. Several talented CHS grads made a CD called Hooker's Farm in the 90's.

Growing up in a small town might sound boring to big city kids - but we small townies find a way to make life exciting wherever we are.