It was a crisp fall morning and I was headed to the Dove blind I had set up the week before on the corner of a corn field. To get there I had to pass by "The Old House" if you grew up in the rural south you have seen the type Im talking about built off the ground held up by field stone colems delapetated tin roof caving in, word was the original had been destroyed by Shermans troops but I cant verify that. Any way I was about 12 years old and i was gonna shoot me some doves. So as I got near the old house that morning something felt off. I stopped by the porch and was staring into the open maw of the front door, suddenly I could see my breath as it gathered around my head thats how still things had become. Out of the house came a little girls voice crying MaMa Ma Ma get up there comming. Now no one was around for about 3/4 a mile or more and my young ears new that that voice was not comming from my present time, so I turned and ran the whole way home. I used to ramble all through those fields and find the occasional Minnie ball or some other fragment of the destruction that was delivered upon that old plantation. I had a few more experiances I cant explain around those woods and fields, none of which made me feel the sheer terror that I felt when I heard that pittiful voice. Ive often wondered since who "they" were that were comming but what I know of the local lore it had to be the Yankies they were not kind when they came through Conyers Ga. Well thats my story or at least the one that has most affected me maybe Ill tell some others another time.
Roy
Roy
