Devil's Ground Arco Station

By Oakley Dean Baldwin

This family story surrounds a business that my father, Howard Baldwin, purchased in 1975. With all the strange circumstances, events, and happenings, all the mayhem with accidents, injuries, deaths, suicide, and robbery have proven to be quite mysterious. Over the years, we have often wondered if the gas station ground was haunted, on Devils ground, or possibly an old unmarked Indian grave.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781329864610

Oakley Dean Baldwin

ABOUT ME Oakley Dean Baldwin born to Howard and Lora Baldwin, married to Doris Barber Baldwin. I am a non-fiction and fiction story teller / writer telling the stories of my life and those that came before me in my family tree. I have 15 books published with the 16th book on the way. I am a career law enforcement officer, professionally trained crime scene investigator and retired Military Intel Officer. I have a Degree from Marshall University in Applied Science. As always, thank you so much for your support. Please don't forget to fill out the online review. Oakley Dean Baldwin

Book preview

Devil's Ground Arco Station

Devil’s Ground

Arco Station

By Oakley Dean Baldwin

Copyright © 2014 ODB Publishing

Check out my other stories and books at:

http://thebaldwinstories.wix.com/author-blog

We all go through things throughout our life time. Some things we just know are going to be exciting and different. Some of you who remember the show the Twilight Zone will closely relate to these stories. The Twilight Zone is the best description.

Prologue

This book is a work of non-fiction, based on my personal experiences and historical facts that were available at the time of this writing; gathered from multiple sources that were pieced together into a plausible story.

The strange circumstances, events, and happenings in this book, all the mayhem with accidents, injuries, deaths, suicide, and robbery have proven to be quite mysterious. Some people live a life time without a weird event or a mythical encounter. Some people have had more than one! As you will soon see I have had several weird and unexplained happenings in my life time!

Many people also say if you have one true friend in your life time you are very blessed. I grew up with three of the best friends any one could ever ask for; Michael Blatcher, my football buddy, Michael Endreson, my overall bud and my cousin David Beverley.

I have made many other friends since my boyhood but these three friendships have always been very special. My friend Michael Blatcher passed away in 2009, I want to dedicate this first story in his memory and friendship. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART ONE

The Witch Tree

PART TWO

No Gas Money

PART THREE

Stolen Wheels

PART FOUR

Up Rooted

PART FIVE

W.T.H. was That?

PART SIX

Three Months Later

PART SEVEN

Devil’s Ground-So it Began

PART EIGHT

Exit 3 Sign Accident

PART NINE

Death Comes

PART TEN

Attempted Robbery

PART ELEVEN

The Black Cloud

PART TWELVE

Blacked Out?

PART THIRTEEN

Death Returns

PART FOURTEEN

Escaped Prisoners

PART FIFTEEN

Horse Head

PART SIXTEEN

Super Bird Accident

PART SEVENTEEN

Let Me Out of Here!

PART EIGHTEEN

Flame On

PART NINETEEN

Men in Black

PART TWENTY

Tire Change Incident

PART TWENTY ONE

The Trance

PART TWENTY TWO

Suicide or Murder

PART TWENTY THREE

The Strike

PART TWENTY FOUR

The Greatest Heartbreak

PART TWENTY FIVE

Restart of Asplundh Trucks

PART TWENTY SIX

Tax Man Cometh

PART TWENTY SEVEN

Interstate 81 Deaths by Fire

PART TWENTY EIGHT

Interstate 81 Family Deaths

CONCLUSION

PART ONE

The Witch Tree

I was really only scared one time as a young boy. It was in 1969, in Browns Mills, New Jersey. My father was in the military and was stationed at Fort Dix / McGuire Air Force Base located in the middle of the Pine Barrens region.

The following story describes the circumstances that I still consider to be one of the most frightening times in my life.

I was twelve years old, my friend Michael Blatcher and I were on the same Police Athletic League (PAL) football team. This was our second year on the same team and we were best of friends.

Mike would walk about fifteen minutes to my house on Coville Drive in Blueberry Manor and we would walk down Rancocas Lane which was a short cut to the football field.

About midway of this short cut there was a wide creek and swimming hole that my older sister, Colleen, and her friends called Bare Ass Beach. It was actually named Rancocas Creek. At this mid-point in the trip through the woods between my house and Pemberton Browns Mills Road, there was a small wooden bridge that you had to cross to get over Rancocas Creek. 

The football field was just down Pemberton Browns Mills Road, about another half mile.

The nice thing about this short cut was it saved us from walking an extra two miles one way to the practice field. Now the bad thing about this short cut through the woods was walking past all the skeletal remains or partially eaten carcasses of dead animals like birds, deer, rabbits, you name it; they were scattered all around the path like a killing field.

Football practice ended in the late afternoon and that meant there were no street lights once you left Pemberton Browns Mills Road until you got back to my neighborhood. So, most of the walk back home in the evening was in the dark.

On a moonless night most of our walk was in pitch black darkness.

Along with being dark, there was another problem with this path; near the bridge the tallest tree had what resembled a witch riding a broom. It was a real Halloween like eye catching setting on the top of the tree.

Each night after practice Mike would point that witch tree out to me. He would say things like that witch is watching us, walk faster or here she comes, she’s after us, Boo! Boo!

After six or eight times and many trips through the short cut, the witch didn’t scare me as much as she once did. I have to admit I would take a good look at her when we walked under that tree, just to make sure she didn’t move, and to my relief she never did.

Living in the Pine Barrens region, kids were already scared as this area was also known as the home of the Jersey Devil. I was well aware of many past stories about the Devil sightings in and around the County. It had even been reported to have killed several people over the past three hundred years. At least that is what the older