The Larson Family

Have you ever had an experience that you can’t explain? My life seems to be full of these. Anyone who listened to Y94 when I was on the morning show heard plenty of stories about a haunting which seems to come and go in my house. But I have dozens of strange experiences in my life — experiences many would call supernatural — that go back as far as I can remember.

I’m gonna tell some of these stories in this blog, and I’ve decided I’ll tell them chronologically. So for this first installment of the unexplained category, I’ll start with the earliest ones I can remember.

I was about six or seven years old. My parents had a trailer house in a park called Minot Mobile Estates about five miles east of Minot, on the outskirts of Surrey. This was the first real home I remember. Before the trailer, we had lived in a string of rental properties.

I distinctly remember having a lot of weird sleep-related episodes when we lived in our trailer. I walked in my sleep. I talked in my sleep. And sometimes more.

I remember one time waking up in the middle of the night, not feeling good, and calling for my mom. It’s weird that I can remember it, because I’m pretty sure I was sleeping. Anyway, I recall my Mom coming into my bedroom to ask me if I wanted a drink of water. I don’t remember what was said, but I do remember my Mom yelling for my Dad. I also remember her telling him, “He freaked me out. His eyes were open but it was like he was looking right through me.” Then I remember my Dad came in and tucked me back in. When I woke up in the morning, my Dad gave me a good ribbing about how my eyes had looked black as oil in the dark room (I can only assume because my pupils were dilated in the dark) and how I’d scared the hell out of both of them. He drew the conclusion that I was in some kind of waking sleep state.

There were many other times I did strange things in my sleep, and one story I’m just too embarrassed to tell. But there were lots of them when we lived in this trailer. There was one thing though, that didn’t have anything to do with sleep.

My Mom was having some kind of get together at the trailer. I don’t remember if it was a birthday party or what. But there were a lot of people there, and some had brought their kids. So I was doing my regular thing, trying to be the center of attention, when the party ended. People were coming and going, carrying packages and food trays to their cars. And as she often did, my Mom put me on door duty — opening and closing the door for people whose hands were full.

There was a knock on the door and when I opened it, there was a woman standing there. I still remember what she looked like. She had very long, straight blonde hair. She was young, in her twenties I’d guess, and had the thin wire-rimmed glasses with oval lenses — like John Lennon used to wear. I didn’t recognize her, and I didn’t remember seeing her at the party. So I asked her, “Are you Missy’s mom?” And she said, “No. Can I use your bathroom?” I let her in.

She took off her sandals in our shed and went back to the bathroom. I remember it was odd that she was wearing sandals, because it was snowing outside. I went back to doing whatever I was doing.

Some time later my Mom called me into the entry and said “Whose shoes are these?” The woman’s sandals were still there. I said, “The lady in the bathroom.”

There was no lady in our bathroom.

Who was the lady? And where did she go without her sandals… in the snow? I don’t know, but it’s the first time I remember having an experience that I would call truly unexplained. — Troy

The most recent near-death experience I can think of happened in about 2005. Somewhere around there.

A co-worker and I have a project to photograph North Dakota ghost towns, and we went on a trip to Central North Dakota to check out a few towns. It was late fall, but it hadn’t snowed yet, so we took a chance. Well, it began to snow. Ten miles from our first destination, we had to turn back. The gravel roads were getting slippery and muddy, and we were in a little Ford Escort station wagon.

Ten miles outside of Devil’s Lake, the engine on the little Escort seized up. For good. We got a tow back to our hotel and pondered what to do. We had about a hundred bucks between us, and no vehicle.

That’s when I went to my hole card… my cousin Brad. He’s actually my ex-wife’s cousin, but we get along well, and he’s always been there for me when I’m in a jam. I called him and asked if he would drive from Fargo to Devil’s Lake and pick us up. I heard him say “You wanna go on a road trip, Chris?” Two hours later, Brad and his friend Chris showed up in Devil’s Lake to pick us up. Brad was driving his wife’s brand new Subaru WRX All-Wheel Drive.

It had started to snow pretty good by that time, and the wind was blowing it horizontally across the highway. Plus, the sun had gone down, so it was freezing on the road. Conditions weren’t the best.

Now, a little background on Brad. He’s a motor-head — likes cars, and likes to go fast in cars. I wouldn’t say he’s reckless, but if you ride with him, don’t be afraid of a little excitement.

So, we’re zipping down Highway 2 toward Grand Forks, Chris in the front with Brad, and me and my friend, Rat, in the back. The headlights are illuminating two swaths of glazed road in the horizontal blizzard. Brad’s pretty confident considering we’re in an all-wheel drive, and driving about the same speed you would on a normal sunny day.

Suddenly, there’s a very slight rise in the highway. As we go over it, you could feel the car squat down on it’s suspension, and when the suspension springs back on the far side of the hump, all four tires broke loose. My stomach turned over at the feeling of the car sliding down the slippery highway, slowly rotating clockwise. If we were to hit a patch of dry pavement, we would be in danger of rolling over.

I’ll never forget this. The car had rotated clockwise about twenty degrees. The headlights were shining at the ditch. And my cousin Brad, both hands on the wheel, shrugged his shoulders and in a real low voice said, “Well…” A moment later, he turned the wheel, stepped lightly on the gas, and drove the car down into the ditch. First lucky circumstance — it was a wide, flat-bottomed ditch with a slight grade. Second lucky circumstance — it hadn’t snowed much yet, and there was only about a half inch of snow on the ground.

Next thing you know, we’re in the ditch going sixty. Rat and I are both leaning to the center, staring out the windshield from between the bucket seats. I distinctly remember thinking, “This could be it. Is this the end?” It was dead silent in the car. A second later, Brad let off the accelerator and very gently turned the wheel back to the left. The little blue Subaru went right back up onto the road. The rear end fishtailed a little bit before Brad got it under control, but he did. Suddenly, we were back on the road and driving along like nobody’s business. It was still dead silent in the car.

I said the only thing that came to my mind. “Good drivin’ Brad.” And he said, “Thank you.” The silence returned for a few moments until our adrenaline caught up with all of us. Soon, we were laughing nervously and thanking God. Oh my God dude, I thought that was it. Me too!

It’s been a couple years. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m due. — Troy