I was laying in bed sleeping soundly when I heard that strange noise in the attic. It woke me from a sound sleep. It took me a minute to place the sound.
Did you hear that? My wife was wide awake too.
Yes, I did.
What do you think it was?
It sounded like a button rolling across the floor.
As I strained to listen in the silence, there was nothing more. Just that single button rolling on an old wooden floor. The next day, the sun was shining and the birds were making their usual morning fuss out on the bush. They seemed to love that one bush and darted in and out by the dozens. The old cat watched that bush very closely. I don’t think she ever caught anything, but she loved to watch anyway.
In the boldness of the sunlight I announced that I was going to go up into the attic and see if I could see anything. Our old farmhouse had been remodeled several times and updated over the years. It was a comfortable little home but when the wind blew, you could feel the breeze. I walked up the tiny stairs and stood in our little guest room. If you stood in the center of the room, you could stand upright. If you walked to the side you had to bend because the ceiling was shorter there. I walked into the next little room and stood there for a minute. It was like walking back in time. This room had only been updated a little bit. This is where we stored our extra items and boxes. I stood there looking and didn’t see anything out of order so I walked into the next little room. That is the one directly over our bedroom. This room had never been remodeled. It was over 150 years ago that our farmhouse had been built, and this room reflected the past. It was now empty but over the years I could only imagine how many others had lived here.
There it was. That single button. The one that we had heard the night before. It was just laying there on the wooden floor.
We discussed that button and wondered why we had heard it. My wife decided that she was going to listen closely during the day to see if any more strange things happened. Nothing that day or the next. But over the next months that we lived there we began to notice other noises. She had a dream one night that upset her and as we talked about the dream, we decided that we would approach that ghost and talk to it. She went up into that last room in the attic and sat on a chair and began to talk. At first she was talking to an empty room, but she felt a presence enter, just a feeling, but she was there. A little girl. My wife said she talked to that little girl. The girl never spoke, and never showed her self. She explained that it was ok for her to stay in the house if she wanted, but told her that there was a beautiful place filled with love and family that were waiting for her. We never heard any more noises like the button in that old house. When the wind blew, the house creaked and groaned but it was always peaceful in that country house in Kansas.
There was another house, our first house in Manti, Utah. It was built about a hundred years ago. It was small and the ceiling was low but we loved that old house. It was such a peaceful feeling to be in that home.
It was not always that way. About a year before an old couple had lived there. He was a gardener and brought home all the spoiled produce from the grocery store to put in his garden soil. That was the best garden soil I have had. She cooked the meals and took care of him. As they had gotten older they tolerated one another. When she died, no one noticed. Not even her husband. He thought she had fallen asleep in the chair. Several days later, she was still there in the chair. When they took her out of the home, they said she had been dead for awhile. He died too, not much later. My friend bought the house and cleaned it out and painted it. She put it up for rent. When the new renters moved in they could feel it. It was an angry feeling. After days of unrest they called the owner and told her what they felt. My friend called a physic. The physic came to the house and talked to that old woman. She was still so angry when she died, no one noticed. She was mad at her husband. The physic talk to her and explained that she needed to move on, forgive her husband and move into the light. She must have listened, because all we felt was a peaceful feeling.
A couple of years ago I decided to visit the Mountain Meadows massacre site near Cedar City, Utah. The location of a terrible and still troubling event in the early history of the Mormon settlement. It happened on 9-11 in 1857. 120 men women and children were murdered by members of the Mormon community. It was thought that these innocent settlers had been the murders of some early mormons in Missouri and local citizens had been stirred up by the leaders of the church in a recent visit. The Mormons tried to pay the Indians to do the deed, but the settlers were too strong and fought them back. Local Mormons went door to door and raised up a band of men to finish the job. The settlers were innocent. It was a terrible tragedy. There are still family’s in that area that carry the guilt of that day. Books have been written, and a movie was made a few years ago. It was called September Dawn. It was made in 2007. Didn’t last long in Utah and very few saw the movie. Brigham Young, has now been found to be the culprit behind the massacre. No one likes to admit it. The Church in Salt Lake put up a monument to the event. When I visited the site, I felt a sick and angry feeling. The monument consists of a bunch of rocks stacked in a pile. The plaque doesn’t tell the story of the event or take responsibility for the act. The leaders of the Church have side stepped the issue. When construction began on the monument, the back hoe dug hastily into old grave sites and uncovered bones buried in shallow graves from a hundred and fifty years ago. It is still a tragedy.
There is an unsettled feeling on that lonely hill near Cedar City, Utah. I could feel it and my wife could feel it. We tried talking to those angry men, women, and children. The ones who had been murdered there. They were not willing to move into the light. We told them of a better place where they would see family and friends. They didn’t want to hear it. Their spirits will not rest until the ones responsible are held accountable. Until a full and true accounting and apology is made to the spirits on that hill. If you should visit that pile of rocks on that lonely hill, you will see what I mean. You will feel the feelings still so strong and angry. Say a prayer and let them know ... that you know. They are not forgotten. The victims of 9-11-1857
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