The Stagecoach
The MPIG investigates a haunted stagecoach route.
Who are we and why are we here in the woods near a long forgotten stagecoach trail?
We are the Mackenson County Paranormal Investigation Group (M.P.I.G.)!
We boldly enter into places that are supposed to be haunted and we search for ghosts!
-Morgan Burns, Investigator and Host.
In the woods north of Clarkston, along Oak Bayou, lies part of an old stagecoach route. The land on which the route is located is owned by the family of the late Ines Combs. One of our chief investigators, Morgan Burns, is friends with Ms. Taylor Combs, and that’s how we got permission to be on the property.
We left Clarkston in Jonah’s truck around 9 PM and took state highway 73 out to the junction of FM 1821. On this side (east) of Pine Hills there is a bridge that crosses Oak Bayou. At the bridge, Jonah turned to the right onto a dirt trail that runs next to the creek and he slowly headed down the somewhat bumpy road. Really, it was an overgrown pathway used by fishermen, I think. Approximately two miles in is where the road stopped and the treeline began. Jonah had been out here once already, scouting, and he told us that the old stagecoach trail was maybe 500 feet inside the woods ahead of us. To our left was the creek with a large amount of cane growing alongside; everywhere else was covered with oak and pine trees. The small pathway we were on was as close to normal ground as you could get out here in the middle of nowhere.
We got parked and got out of the truck. We set about unloading our equipment and then we saw two sets of headlights coming toward us. It was Max and Jenny. Max was in his truck pulling the flatbed trailer. Jenny was in Nicole’s truck pulling the horse trailer. They were right on time.
It was time to get to work. But before we get into this tale, perhaps you are wondering who we are? Who are we and why are we here in the woods near a long forgotten stage coach trail? Like Morgan always says during our show: We are the Mackenson County Paranormal Investigation Group (M.P.I.G.)! We boldly enter into places that are supposed to be haunted and we search for ghosts!
It didn’t take us long to unload our equipment. We had done it enough that it had become routine. We wouldn’t ever go into the woods without testing everything first, so that’s what we did. We test and retest; all five of us had an important role in our group, and every person’s equipment had to be functioning properly. We had actually tested our many devices before we ever left Clarkston, and we were about to do it again. Every time we changed locations, we would test our gear.
All eyes turned to Nicole Sutherland, who was doing something to the camera. She then gave a fast thumb’s up sign to indicate that the camera was ready. Arnold Elliot (that’s me, by the way) held out the boom pole. “Try it, Morgan,” I said.
“Test one, test two, test three,” said Morgan. Although she was good in front of the camera, she always felt silly having to test the microphones.
“All ready on my part,” I announced.
“Okay here I go,” said Brett Hansen. “Flashlights off, everyone.” He extinguished his flashlight and adjusted the boom arm for the lighting. “Jonah, Morgan? Light soft enough or too harsh? Nicole? Is it interfering with the camera?”
“Light is okay for me,” said Jonah Oliver.
“Me too,” said Morgan.
“Perfect,” said Nicole.
A flashlight approached our group. It was Max and Jenny Henshaw. They were a married couple, maybe in their early 30s, and they did odd jobs, usually around the town of Clarkston. Like all of us, they lived in Clarkston. Max worked construction when he could. Jenny worked at the Clarkston Tavern, waiting tables, and cleaned houses whenever she could find that type of work. It is said that they are one step above being homeless, but I don’t know that for sure. What I do know is that Max had a truck that could pull a trailer, and he (along with Jenny) was willing to work with us tonight for one hundred dollars, no questions asked. On this particular investigation, we had certain equipment that required us to have a couple of trailers at our disposal.
“Good evening, folks,” said Jonah. “We’re glad you could join us tonight. We’ve got our spot picked out about 500 feet inside the treeline, so we’re going to have you guys set up about a quarter of a mile away from that location. It’ll stop any potential noise and light pollution.” He then addressed Max. “How about we walk out there and I’ll show you the place?”
“Glad to be here,” said Max, lighting up a cigarette. “Let’s go have a look.” Jonah and Max disappeared into the woods.
“Hi Jenny,” said Nicole. “Everything okay with the trailers?”
“Yes,” said Jenny Henshaw. “We’ve got the wagon plus Marge, Marie, Mabel, and Macy to pull it. Max says they’re Standardbred horses, good girls who will do a great job pulling the wagon. When the guys get back we’ll get everything tacked up. Max has a lot of experience with horses. Wagons? Not so much, but he’ll manage. We picked up reins, singletrees, harnesses and bridles out of your barn. Basically we have everything we’d ever need to hook up four horses to a carriage. And, of course, I snagged a couple of bales of hay so the ladies can snack as much as they want to.”
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