Ghosthunters (by Miserlu from New Iberia, LA)

The nightly routine of hitting the bars somehow didn’t seem to feel right that night. I still don’t know how the two of us ended up driving around together that night, but we did. James was driving. We went all over Acadiana that night with no real direction or destination in mind. We passed some things more than once. We just drove and talked and listened to music and sang.

I couldn’t even tell you the name of the street or where it even was, but something caught our eyes in that dark field. James stopped the car on the side of the road and we sat in the car for a little while, staring at the blue light hovering in the middle of the field. We whispered to each other, wondering what it was, why it was there, what it was for. We whispered as though someone were listening in even though there was no other person in sight…not that we could see anyway.

The field was obviously part of a farm or ranch. It was large and surrounded by a fence. In the distance we could hear the occasional moo from one of the cows up past its bedtime. The blue light appeared to be in the middle of the field. It looked like it was hovering. Nothing seemed to be around it as no shadows could be seen cast by it and nothing moved in or around it.

We got out of the car, quietly, stealthily. We crossed the ditch and stood against the fence and stared at it, discussing in a strained whisper whether or not we should jump the fence and investigate.

The Louisiana countryside is not a random play place. Private property is highly regarded as deserving respect and protection at the owner’s discretion, which usually means firepower. Knowing this, we hesitated to cross the fence. However also being so damned curious about that stupid, creepy blue light we decided that we would go home, get weapons of our own and then go back to investigate.

We rushed home excitedly discussing what we thought it was: a space ship, an orb, a ghost light, a poltergeist. In our foolish haste, we grabbed the only things at our disposal…a kitchen knife and a wooden spoon. Our roommates were home from the bar and became interested in our activities, so we informed them about the blue light. A couple of them jumped in the car with us and back we went.

The blue light was still there! We took deep breaths and crossed the fence. Slowly we made our way across the field headed toward the blue light. We walked for what seemed like miles. The blue light never grew closer but also never dimmed or wavered. We KNEW it had to be in the farmer’s field because there was a line of trees in the distance and the light was in front of the trees. The trees got bigger and closer, but the light did not. Our pace slowed as we realized the distance between us and the car was growing larger and we knew if someone came out into that field we would never be able to beat them back to the car. Not wanting to be shot or arrested, we turned back.

Hyped up by this adventure, we all piled back into the car laughing and breathless with excitement. That night we visited a few known haunts in our area.

We never found out what the blue light was…but it started a tradition with us: Anytime the routine became boring, we went looking for ghosts. We became ghosthunters that night. Distances between us have grown over the years. Time has passed. We have grown up, moved, gotten married, had kids, gotten divorced, started careers…but we will always have our haunts and we will always be ghosthunters.