Colorado Ghost Stories. Antonio Boone's Garcez

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СКАЧАТЬ years. In 1879, prospectors in search of silver ore crossed the Continental Divide and entered the Ute’s summer hunting range. Surprisingly for them, they discovered one of the world’s richest silver lodes.

      Throughout the coming years, after many mining camps, two competing railroads and major capitalists investors, Aspen quickly became an urban center of architecture, and in 1935, the ideal location for a ski resort. In 1947, the world’s longest ski lift opened on Aspen Mountain. Aspen flourished both in the winter and summer months to become both a premiere center of recreation and a community center of the arts.

      Inevitable, uncontrolled growth has forced the town of Aspen to adopt controversial and at times contentious growth control measures. Today, the vast majority of “locals” are no more than wealthy transplants from other regions of the United States. Visitors to Aspen would do well to heed the warning of adjusting not only to the high altitude, but equally to the high “attitude” of the area.

      Jan D. Carlin’s Story

      There are interviews that remain in my memory long after a particular book is published. What follows is one of those interviews. I hope Jan’s story will reveal something special to you that we each might hope for in a loving relationship—tenderness, com- passion and desire. Among these inherent characteristics, Jan has also learned to trust her intuition, apprehensions and the insight that comes from being presented with spiritual messages.

      — Antonio

      “Beyond those hills to the north of Aspen, 26 years ago, is the place where my husband, Morgan, and his friend, William, both died. It has only just been in the last few years that I’ve had enough strength to begin to openly talk about their deaths without breaking down in tears. I hope I don’t ‘lose it’ during this interview.

      Before moving to Aspen, close to eight years, Morgan and I owned a small cafe in Canyon City, Colorado. After our daughter Veronica was born, we decided to sell the property and move to Aspen. The restaurant business was basically most of what both Morgan and I ever knew as a couple. We were tied to our business and committed to its success. Thankfully, we were very successful at it, and enjoyed the interaction we had with the public. But our new venture was in promoting Morgan’s photography. He always wanted to have his own studio and develop his art. The beauty of Colorado was there for photographing. Morgan would take the shots, print, and then frame them for a gallery we had planned to establish. Our new focus was to then present his photos in a space located in a building we eventually leased on Galina Street.

      As you can now guess, aside from the restaurant business, Morgan was an ardent photographer and during his spare time he would venture away into the mountains of Colorado to photograph both landscapes and wildlife, always hoping and aiming to develop his dream, a personal goal of opening up his own photo gallery. I supported this dream of his as much as possible, and because of the sale of our Canyon City property, we were now financially able to pursue and make a go of it.

      We loved each other very much, and even up to the very last night of my husband’s life, we never had what I would call a serious argument. But today there is an empty hole in my soul. I miss him so much it’s indescribable. Our daughter was too young to fully know her father, but I’ve tried as much as I possibly can to describe to her his personality and talent.

      Before I tell you my story, I’ve got to emphasize that I never did believe in ghosts and such things as the life beyond. I just was not brought up in that atmosphere. My parents were strictly by-the- book Jewish. I personally didn’t care much for the Jewish religion, or any religion for that matter. But today, whether religion has anything to do with ghosts, I’d be the first in line to offer my own personal story as a testament to the existence of such things as ghosts.

      Morgan and his best friend William had made plans for a two week long trek into the mountains of the White River National Forest. Their destination, or base camp, was to be Sylvan Lake. Both men were avid photographers and had camped within the White River National Forest a few times before. I was not in the least bit concerned for their safety and well-being. They were both well versed in alpine camping. I had accompanied them once for a two- and-a-half week venture myself. So when the time came for them to drive away, I gave my sweet husband a kiss and a hug and bid both he and his friend success.

      About five hours into their trip, I received a call from Morgan who called me on his cell phone simply to say, “Babe, just wanted to let you know how much things will change for us. I’m going to take the best pictures. Pictures that will make you so proud to hang in our gallery. Since my cell phone won’t be working for a long time, I did want to let you know how much I’ll be missing you.” I told him I loved him, and to be careful. Those were the last words we spoke.

      Anna, a good friend of mine, came over the next day. Keeping us company while Morgan was away she decided to spend a week with my daughter Veronica and I. Anna also helped me with various painting, and other renovation, duties that were needed at the new gallery space. Anna spent the nights sleeping on the floor on a futon in my daughter’s bedroom.

      On the fourth night, Anna came into my room at about 3 a.m. I opened my eyes and saw her standing in the doorway holding my daughter in her arms. I asked her, “Anna what’s wrong?” She said she had been awakened by a noise in the bedroom—a knocking on the wall. She explained that when she had opened her eyes, she had spotted my husband Morgan bent over Veronica’s crib. Startled, she had spoken, “Morgan, what are you doing here so early?” He seemed to ignore her question, then Anna sat up in bed and said, “Morgan, Morgan what are you doing here?” At that question, Morgan stood upright and turned to face Anna. Anna said that she only got a moment’s glance at Morgan’s face, which was marked with emotionally distress. Then his image disappeared! Anna was shocked! She instinctively got up and reached into the crib where my daughter was fast asleep, and lifted her up into her arms and walked over to my bedroom. I spotted her, as she opened the door.

      We both talked for a few minutes about the occurrence, and decided it was nothing more than the effects of a tired mind, just the simple imagination, of being so focused on working at the gallery. Although I didn’t say anything more to Anna regarding Morgan’s trip, I was now very concerned for his well-being. Nothing more happened in the sense of experiencing ghostly matters. For the remainder of her stay, Anna slept with the hall light on, and left Veronica and I after four more days. But, after Anna left, I would soon have some unnerving experiences of my own.

      The following day, as I was straightening up a pile of magazines in our living room, I heard the sound of the television. Somehow it turned itself on. It just turned on by itself. Odd, I thought. But, I simply hit the off button on the remote, and thought nothing more of it. But later that evening as I was bathing Veronica, I heard my cell phone ring, I reached over to answer it, and as I held it to my ear I heard the sound of static, or of a heavy disturbance of some type. I said, “Hello, hello?” But, there was no answer.

      Later that night, after being sound asleep I was suddenly awakened by the sensation that I was suffocating. I sat up in bed and eventually was able to catch my breath. This was a very weird experience for me. I’d never experienced such a thing before—ever. I thought it might be a panic attack. I’d also never had a panic attack, but that was all I could think had caused this episode. After a few minutes I regained control and the sensation of suffocation soon totally left me.

      But, just a few minutes after going back to sleep, I was again awakened by the sense that the whole left side of my body was being compressed. I immediately got out of bed, and went to check on Veronica. She was fast asleep and my concerns, whatever they might have been, were now put at ease. I walked into the living room and turned on the TV. After a few minutes of watching a repeat of the earlier day’s news report, I turned the damn thing off, and decided to go back to bed.

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