Have you ever been on the outside of an inside joke
or catch line? We all have at some point or another.
Perhaps it’s a punch line, or a phrase like…“So this
guy walks into a bar with a monkey…”! Or maybe
its, “don’t go into the woods behind Fox Hollow
road….”! Or even “don’t forget what we talked
about…”! To the outside listener these are doors
that block their entrance into a section of
conversation. To those on the inside, that was the
intention. We tend to be angry about the things we don’t know that inside
people do. As if it is critical knowledge we deserve and can even resent the
ones who are in on it. These inside jokes, conversations, or tid-bits of wisdom
represent the knowledge we lack. I have learned the hard way that sometimes
you just don’t want to know what the secret is, you think that you do until you
find out and then…”I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT”. Sometimes, however
the block is worth breaking through. Here are two, I found it worth to break
through.
The Morristown, Mendham, Chester, New Jersey corridors have a lot of
“inside” knowledge spots. I grew up in Morristown, N.J., in quiet neighborhood
called “Wheatchief Farms” on Sunderland Dr. , and we had several of the
“inside” stories that the older kids would tell. When our house was built all
through planting the yard we found musket balls, arrow heads and old buttons.
Tons of cool stuff, as time went on the other kids that were my age all hung
around together but we were always just quite shy of the “big kids”, the ones
who told us that there had been a huge fight between the Indians and the early
Americans on this land and that they had even found bones. “BONES” …”
COOL” …we definitely, bought every line. Of course this was not true, the area
was simply inhabited by the two peoples at separate and equal times
peacefully, and where our neighborhood was now built were woods suitable for
hunting, shooting practice and for the occasional gathering in one of the many
clearings. It was also a staging point for the revolutionary army, because it was
so neatly secluded. Myth busted.
For years the big kids told us the orchard that separated our neighborhood
from the big mansion on the hill behind us was “haunted”, and we would be
wise to stay out of there. We would walk by at night and hear all sorts of things
creaks, moans and noises, enough to keep our skinny little butts out of that
orchard. In 1978 I was 12 and my best friend and I were telling one of the new
kids to our neighborhood about the orchard we had feared for years. He piped
up and said the we were acting like a couple of wimps, so we waited til night
and took him up there, he backed down and the legend grew. Fall came and
Halloween grew near, and this same kid bet my best friend and I all his candy
we would not walk through the orchard and ring the bell at the mansion. With a
bag of candy as a motivator we headed out. The whole while we shook,
shivered and quaked, but somehow we made it and rang the bell, the orchard
was not haunted at all, it was simply overgrown. To our surprise a nun
answered the door, she explained that since no other kids ever came up to the
nunnery and they always hoped that some would, they had candy and lots of it.
We walked away that night with 3 handfuls of candy each. So we made a pact
“those are the most haunted woods in the world” and for the next 3 years we
got whole bags of candy and glasses of apple cider because we would brave
the “haunted” orchard and go to the big mansion on the hill.
It was 1985 and my best friend (yes, the same one) and I heard another tale
“don’t go to the end of Fox Hollow road.” We thought “we’ve heard this before,
and look how awesome the last time worked out” I began to ask around about
what was there and I was told “the Hooker Man”, local legend was that a mail
train used to run the tracks back at the end of the road and connected many of
the small towns along the way. One night when the mail worker reached out to
hang the mail bag on the hook, it pierced his arm and he was pulled from the
train and he died hanging on the hook. He was supposed to have turned the
lantern on the side of the caboose from red facing the driver to green to let the
driver know he had completed his task, and to this day the green and red light
still shines through the darkness where that hook once stood. I’m getting the
chills right now recounting this story.
We went back there one night and sure enough, we saw the lights, first red
then green. It is important to know that this is in the middle of the woods, the
closest stop light was 3 miles away and there were no houses or old shacks or
anything along this stretch of tracks, also the lights swung forward and back
and there was nothing along side of the tracks that could have caused it. We
ran, and went home. A month later we talked some of our friends into coming
there with us. Again we saw the lights, and this time we heard him moaning
and wailing. One of the kids that went back there with us that night “lost it” and
has never been right since. He swore for days that he still heard the moans,
and dreamt of the accident for years. We were cured from ever going back
there again! Sure enough though, we went back a hundred times or more,
sometimes we saw the lights, sometimes we heard the moans, but every time it
was a new adventure. I’m sure the legend lives on and that teens still go to see
the lights, if I still lived there I’d probably now have the courage to walk down
the tracks and investigate. I did walk the tracks during the day several times as
a teen and never found anything. I know the “HOOKER MAN” is real, I have
seen the lights heard the cries and could find nothing to explain them away.
Now as I look back that was one of the reasons I founded this group, the other a
much more active haunting I witnessed in college is a tale for another time.” So
this guy walks up to house pretending to carry two bags of groceries…”
or catch line? We all have at some point or another.
Perhaps it’s a punch line, or a phrase like…“So this
guy walks into a bar with a monkey…”! Or maybe
its, “don’t go into the woods behind Fox Hollow
road….”! Or even “don’t forget what we talked
about…”! To the outside listener these are doors
that block their entrance into a section of
conversation. To those on the inside, that was the
intention. We tend to be angry about the things we don’t know that inside
people do. As if it is critical knowledge we deserve and can even resent the
ones who are in on it. These inside jokes, conversations, or tid-bits of wisdom
represent the knowledge we lack. I have learned the hard way that sometimes
you just don’t want to know what the secret is, you think that you do until you
find out and then…”I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT”. Sometimes, however
the block is worth breaking through. Here are two, I found it worth to break
through.
The Morristown, Mendham, Chester, New Jersey corridors have a lot of
“inside” knowledge spots. I grew up in Morristown, N.J., in quiet neighborhood
called “Wheatchief Farms” on Sunderland Dr. , and we had several of the
“inside” stories that the older kids would tell. When our house was built all
through planting the yard we found musket balls, arrow heads and old buttons.
Tons of cool stuff, as time went on the other kids that were my age all hung
around together but we were always just quite shy of the “big kids”, the ones
who told us that there had been a huge fight between the Indians and the early
Americans on this land and that they had even found bones. “BONES” …”
COOL” …we definitely, bought every line. Of course this was not true, the area
was simply inhabited by the two peoples at separate and equal times
peacefully, and where our neighborhood was now built were woods suitable for
hunting, shooting practice and for the occasional gathering in one of the many
clearings. It was also a staging point for the revolutionary army, because it was
so neatly secluded. Myth busted.
For years the big kids told us the orchard that separated our neighborhood
from the big mansion on the hill behind us was “haunted”, and we would be
wise to stay out of there. We would walk by at night and hear all sorts of things
creaks, moans and noises, enough to keep our skinny little butts out of that
orchard. In 1978 I was 12 and my best friend and I were telling one of the new
kids to our neighborhood about the orchard we had feared for years. He piped
up and said the we were acting like a couple of wimps, so we waited til night
and took him up there, he backed down and the legend grew. Fall came and
Halloween grew near, and this same kid bet my best friend and I all his candy
we would not walk through the orchard and ring the bell at the mansion. With a
bag of candy as a motivator we headed out. The whole while we shook,
shivered and quaked, but somehow we made it and rang the bell, the orchard
was not haunted at all, it was simply overgrown. To our surprise a nun
answered the door, she explained that since no other kids ever came up to the
nunnery and they always hoped that some would, they had candy and lots of it.
We walked away that night with 3 handfuls of candy each. So we made a pact
“those are the most haunted woods in the world” and for the next 3 years we
got whole bags of candy and glasses of apple cider because we would brave
the “haunted” orchard and go to the big mansion on the hill.
It was 1985 and my best friend (yes, the same one) and I heard another tale
“don’t go to the end of Fox Hollow road.” We thought “we’ve heard this before,
and look how awesome the last time worked out” I began to ask around about
what was there and I was told “the Hooker Man”, local legend was that a mail
train used to run the tracks back at the end of the road and connected many of
the small towns along the way. One night when the mail worker reached out to
hang the mail bag on the hook, it pierced his arm and he was pulled from the
train and he died hanging on the hook. He was supposed to have turned the
lantern on the side of the caboose from red facing the driver to green to let the
driver know he had completed his task, and to this day the green and red light
still shines through the darkness where that hook once stood. I’m getting the
chills right now recounting this story.
We went back there one night and sure enough, we saw the lights, first red
then green. It is important to know that this is in the middle of the woods, the
closest stop light was 3 miles away and there were no houses or old shacks or
anything along this stretch of tracks, also the lights swung forward and back
and there was nothing along side of the tracks that could have caused it. We
ran, and went home. A month later we talked some of our friends into coming
there with us. Again we saw the lights, and this time we heard him moaning
and wailing. One of the kids that went back there with us that night “lost it” and
has never been right since. He swore for days that he still heard the moans,
and dreamt of the accident for years. We were cured from ever going back
there again! Sure enough though, we went back a hundred times or more,
sometimes we saw the lights, sometimes we heard the moans, but every time it
was a new adventure. I’m sure the legend lives on and that teens still go to see
the lights, if I still lived there I’d probably now have the courage to walk down
the tracks and investigate. I did walk the tracks during the day several times as
a teen and never found anything. I know the “HOOKER MAN” is real, I have
seen the lights heard the cries and could find nothing to explain them away.
Now as I look back that was one of the reasons I founded this group, the other a
much more active haunting I witnessed in college is a tale for another time.” So
this guy walks up to house pretending to carry two bags of groceries…”
| ON THE “INSIDE” By Rob Pistilli |
| All Evidence gathered on an investigation weather it be, Pictorial, Video, Audible or Writings are the intellectual property of the Monroe County Paranormal Investigations and cannot be reproduced without our express permission. |
| M.C.P.I. |
| M.C.P.I. |
| if you believe in the hereafter you know what we're here after |
 | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  | |  |
| Monroe COUNTY PARANORMAL investigations |
