Shadows

Shadows in Logan City

There were 3 of us that night in Logan, Utah. We had driven from Manti to deliver a message. It was dark when we got there so we decided to find a quiet place where no one would see us. We got out of the car and put on our costumes. We were here to let “Them” know that we meant business. 

It is a funny thing to get caught up in a movement of emotions. You find yourself defending positions that you know little about. Siding with those who tell the better story. That’s how I remember the Manti years. It was mostly story telling. We gathered together several times a week to tell those stories. We took turns and often spent 4, 5, 6 hours or more at those meetings. We had a secret code to use when a special “Men’s” meeting was needed. “Ice Cream at the frost top in Ephriam.” We all knew what to do. We had convinced ourselves that we had the best stories, that all the other stories were wrong.

That is how I found myself in Logan that night. We were right and they were wrong. If someone tells the story often enough, with real emotions and feelings, it must be right. Right? That is where I was wrong. Relying on someone else’s feelings to convince me that they were right was wrong. I know that now, but back in those Manti days we were always right. Right?

I can laugh now. I have too. It was right out of the fairy tale story books. It is a sad story now. The old prophet banging his fist and shaking his finger at those who are still there in Manti. “We are Right! They are wrong!” It took me a few months to see behind the curtain and leave. A lot of others have seen it too, and left. 

We had convinced ourselves with our stories that if we surrounded the valley with “Holy Oil,” that only the “Right” people would be able to enter our protected area. The “Wrong” people would not be able to enter. 

There we were pouring olive oil on all the roads. A plane was rented and my olive oil was chosen to be poured out of the plane over the whole valley, thereby insuring our safe survival. 

The oil we poured has now been paved over and I’m sure the locals were not happy with the oil on their cars, falling from the sky. Kind of funny now.

So, there we were standing in our funny costumes discussing how we were to proceed. We took turns, telling “Them.” Standing there in the dark, with only the stars for light. We could see the lights from the houses in distance. We were out where the farmers planted their crops and hay. I noticed a tree next to the fence about a hundred yards or so from where we were. There was no moon so it wasn’t easy to distinguish everything. There! I Did see it! It sent shivers up my spine. I could feel the chicken skin on my arms and the hair on the back of my neck was tingling. We all felt it! We jumped into the car and drove away as fast as we could. Funny, now, but not back then ... 3 men in white sheets driving down a dark road as fast as they could go with their faces as white as the sheets they were wearing. Oh, the foolishness of Man, when they are learned, they think they are wise. We didn’t say much to each other about that night, it was still too fresh on our minds. We all saw it too. The shadow people. They were probably as frightened by us as we were of them. They were there on that starry night in Logan, those shadow people, watching 3 foolish men in white sheets.