Ghostly Goings On
Part 3 - Continued
By Gordon James Dungavel"My only ever ghost experience was around about '78. "
With one year left until we left secondary school, our little gang was now fully fledged, uneducated psychopaths, each with their own fully developed obnoxious traits.
Our parents had given up the challenge of strict discipline as this clearly wasn't working. This was long before drink and drugs were teenagers normal habits, we used our imagination to entertain ourselves when bored, like ringing someone's doorbell, then do a runner, where we'd hide behind a hedge and giggle as some poor pensioner looked out. I should put reader’s minds at ease that we did grow out of this type of behavior - eventually.
I remember one day, us six spotty-skinned estate kids carrying home made spears, knifes, as we made our way towards our usual hunting grounds. However our plans had been spoiled as another gang, much older and more armed than us, who were already on our patch and on seeing us they decided that they would add us to their trophy bags.
"We ran from the woods up a long and winding path flanked by thorny bushes and flat country fields that led to the village of Gatehead one or two miles away. "
We knew this twisting, winding path like the back of our hands, so when we heard the distant approach of horses hooves clip-clopping on the tarmac we knew to stand against the bushes either side of the path to let the approaching horse riders passed. By now it was getting dark but we could see everything around us quite clearly.
The fields around the path were empty as was the path ahead but we began to look across at each other with mounting trepidation as the noise of the approaching horses were extremely loud, we didn't want ourselves to be caught in the middle of a pack of fearsome hounds out with fox hunters.
Then we looked across the path at each other in astonishment. The thunder of horse’s hooves and what sounded like the loud, rotating, squeaking wheels of a carriage passed by us. Nothing was there. Simply nothing but this terrific noise of the horses and carriage. We were petrified, and ran screaming three in one direction and three in another.
"For years we never set foot on that pathway again."
I don't recall having anymore UFO sightings in Scotland, but my interest never waned having subscribed to 'The Unexplained' magazine.The movie Close Encounters Of The Third Kind had now been released and a lot of peoples attitudes to the subject I noticed wasn't so hostile.
My Dad was offered a transfer to England from SKF in Scotland where he worked which was shutting down. So in '79 the family packed our bags and moved down to England. This was quite a culture shock to me as I soon discovered I didn't speak like everyone else. And who were all these new different ethnic race groups unknown in Scotland other than the odd Scot's accented Chinese restaurant folks whom I was used too?
Then I began working in the printing industry. Made some money and discovered London with its great music scene. My brother and I would go to a rock concert every weekend in London. I dressed like the Rob Halford of Luton until I discovered he was gay. So the long permed ginger hair, metal studs and leather look thankfully I put to one side, so now I dressed like a pre-goth robot as Gary Numan was my new hero.
UFO magazines started appearing on newsagent’s shelves and my love affair with the UFO phenomenon was rekindled, this was helped by coming home late one evening from yet another AC/DC London concert, as we walked up the road to our house a huge black shape began to block out the crystal clear star spattered sky. A huge black triangle gently glided over us silently and off into the distance.
"God knows how big that thing was, or how high up but it must have been colossal."
Another sighting later was through a pair of binoculars standing at the front door of my house again very late one night. What looked like a large triangular structure like a huge black kite with orange colored framed edges just sat in the sky not moving for over half an hour? A string of redundancies and house losses under the Thatcher years came and went. Then my father died.
Both my brother & I moved back in with mother and an
unsettled period began. We moved to Exeter, Devon, hated it, then back
to Bedfordshire, choosing Bedford this time instead of Luton.
During this time I met a young girl who worked as a secretary for the Job Club. She had a good interest in the UFO phenomenon as did her father. They were co-founder members of Bedford's BEAMS - The British Earth and Aerial Mysteries Society. And through them I was introduced to Ken Parsons whom I have known now for more years than I care to remember. (Doesn't time fly?)
However when Ken lived in Bedford, he more than anyone else, inspired me back into sky watching as his enthusiasm and knowledge of the UFO subject was far greater than anyone I had previously or since met. I remember writing to him when BEAMS was going through a difficult patch with various stories that I was investigating. One in particular I was interested in (as was the local media at the time). But when I found out its origins were more than suspect, I went back to being only interested in what I could capture on camera as photography was a great interest to me as well as coarse fishing.
"I truly began to think I was the David Bailey of sky watchers."
But again I must stress, many months if not years would pass until I got another break....
