General Discussion

An event, that literally scared the hell out of me for many months, happened one summer evening in the 1950’s. I guess I was six or seven, because I was just old enough to be out at dusk riding my bike on my own. I was pedaling a few blocks from home towards downtown Decatur. As I approached the city square and the old, granite (quarried from Stone Mountain, birthplace of the resurrected Klan) courthouse, I could tell something out of the ordinary was going on. I heard a loud voice speaking through either a microphone or megaphone and there was an unusual glow in the leaves of the huge, old, oak trees and the night sky around the courthouse. When I got within thirty yards or so, I got off my bike, crept closer and hid in some bushes across the street from the courthouse. Like most kids my age I loved spying on folks from hidden places, especially if you thought you might see something you aren’t supposed to see.

When I was close enough to get a good look, the sight chilled me to the bone and to this day the memory stirs dark feelings in my soul. A huge cross, maybe twenty feet tall, was burning on the Decatur courthouse lawn (Decatur is the county seat of Dekalb County). There was a figure on the front steps of the courthouse dressed in what looked like a Halloween ghosts costume, except much more sinister. It was swathed in a flowing white robe, but on its head with holes poked in an old sheet to see out of. This figure had a pointed hood on its head that looked like an evil wizard’s hood from a scary, fairytale. He was shouting and gesturing, and some of the crowd, which must have been a couple of hundred people, were howling and cheering his words. Huge, dark, ominous shadows were cast upon the old, three story, solid granite building. Other hooded horrors were leaning out of windows shouting and waving wildly. I was terrified, but transfixed, afraid if I moved a muscle someone would see me. I couldn’t stand the thought of being brought close to one of those nightmare apparitions. I must have crouched in the bushes for thirty minutes or so, though it seemed like hours. Finally, the cross was extinguished and the crowd began to disperse. I made my way through the bushes and back to my bike. As I raced home, my heart was pounding so hard in my chest I could scarcely catch my breath. When I got to the house I ran inside and went straight to my room. My mom came in and asked where I’d been so late because I was always to be home before dark. I said I was very sorry, that some guys had chased me and I had to take a long way home. She could tell I was scared, but had no idea why, other than being out late.

Later, alone in my room, I tried to imagine what it was that I had witnessed, but I had no reference in my experience for an explanation. I only knew I had seen something evil. As I thought about that event, over the next few days, I wondered if I had noticed any adults I knew in the crowd at the courthouse. But, it had been dark and I was so intent on the robed figures I couldn’t remember. And for that I was damned glad. Years after that night, as I began to understand what had taken place, I would wonder again if any of the men I knew, who worked at the filling stations, hardware store, dry cleaners or drugstores in Decatur, had hidden their true identities behind those hoods. The frightening feeling I got, when I thought about it, was similar to the panicked paranoia of the townsfolk in the classic sci-fi thriller “The Invasion of the Body Snatchers”. Those poor people never knew when their friends, neighbors, or even family members, would turn out to be one of the space creatures hatched from an alien seedpod. Truly, the creature walked among us.