Trail of the Sasquatch, a Shaman's Journey

By Donald B. Young Jr.

This book tells the true life story of Don's adventures within natures wild, realms in the spirit world, and of mysterious unknown cryptids among forest or mind.
Read Don's complete unaltered and detailed memoirs about his own encounters with many hair-raising supernatural events or cryptids during his life.
Many of the memoirs, pictures or details have never been made public before, until now in this book.
This publication also covers many of the more famous discoveries Don has made, such as Big Phil, Blinky, the 1st Thermal and Baby Bigfoot, with pictures and details to summarize his lifetimes research on the trail of the Sasquatch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781504986168

Donald B. Young Jr.

Since childhood, Don Young has had visions and dreams that could only be explained as supernatural insight. Trained by an old Iroquois Shaman in the arts of natural native medicine and sacred spirits, Don spent several years since the age 9 under this elder Natives guidance, till finally he himself was a graduate Mide Shaman. Don's life has been filled with adventure, but along this mysterious path came many hardships that carved him into the person he is today and opened his heart to appreciate rare gifts of happiness often clouded behind emotional walls.

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Trail of the Sasquatch,

a shaman’s journey

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© 2016 Donald B. Young Jr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 04/28/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8615-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5049-8616-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016904766

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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PRE-INTRODUCTION

Since childhood, Don Young has had visions and dreams that could only be explained as supernatural insight.

Trained by an old Iroquois Shaman in the arts of natural native medicine and sacred spirits, Don spent several years since the age 9 under this elder Natives guidance, till finally he himself was a graduate Mide Shaman.

Don’s life has been filled with adventure, but along this mysterious path came many hardships that carved him into the person he is today and opened his heart to appreciate rare gifts of happiness often clouded behind emotional walls.

This book tells the true life story of Don’s adventures within nature’s wild, realms in the spirit world, and of mysterious unknown cryptids among forest or mind.

Read Don’s complete unaltered and detailed memoirs about his own encounters with many hair-raising supernatural events or cryptids during his life.

Many of the memoirs, pictures or details have never been made public before, until now in this book.

This publication also covers many of the more famous discoveries Don has made, such as Big Phil, Blinky, the 1st Thermal and Baby Bigfoot, with pictures and details to summarize his lifetime’s research on the trail of the Sasquatch.

Although some names of people mentioned in this book have been changed or left only as initials to protect their rights and privacy; the story is true and unaltered.

CONTENTS

Pre-introduction

Informative introduction, (Part one)

Preface (Part 2)

Chapter 1: Coming home

Chapter 2: Memories rose

Chapter 3: Birthday boy

Chapter 4: Great mystery

Chapter 5: Scar

Chapter 6: Wildman

Chapter 7: Owl spirit

Chapter 8: Vision quest

Chapter 9: Spirit medicine

Chapter 10: Season of death

Chapter 11: The cleansing

Chapter 12: Boogie man

Chapter 13: Circle of offering

Chapter 14: Forest demon

Chapter 15: Dark feelings

Chapter 16: Thief

Chapter 17: Power quest

Chapter 18: New beginnings

Chapter 19: Death of an Angel

Chapter 20: Rise from ashes past

Chapter 21: Leap of faith

Chapter 22: Blood riddles trade

Chapter 23: Mt. Pelee ape man

Chapter 24: The following

Chapter 25: Expedition of Terror

Chapter 26: Fears Medicine

Chapter 27: Big Phil

Chapter 28: Treed

Chapter 29: 1st thermal

Chapter 30: Baby Bigfoot

Chapter 31: Great bog

TRAIL OF THE SASQUATCH, A SHAMAN’S JOURNEY

INFORMATIVE INTRODUCTION, (PART ONE)

Donald Young or Junior, as his family members called him, was born September 15th, 1963, to Donna Young.

Junior’s biological father was said to be of Native American blood from one of the 6 Eastern Iroquois Nations, and some would even say his father was one of the Voda brothers, also with native blood lines.

Donna’s parents, Donald and Ethel Young adopted Junior, soon after his birth, because Donna was not able to care for him with her active life of travel.

After all, it was the 60s, time of free love and war protests, and like most young adults of that era, Donna was an active participant, she was not one to settle down, or stay home on the family farm.

Later on, Donna would give birth to four more children, two boys and two girls, all from different fathers.

The older of those two girls, was shy and always hiding behind cat-eyed glasses till her mid-teens. Most said she was an ugly duckling, but the day she shed those glasses was the day she became a swan.

The next oldest of the four, was a wild one like Junior, trying anything once, either to get a laugh or just to prove he could do it.

The third, Grandfather’s favorite, reminded him most of his daughter Donna when she was little and innocent.

And finally the baby, last born, a Spitfire right out of the box, trouble with a capital T.

The city life was where the two youngest grew up in foster care, even though Grandma and Granddad tried to adopt them out of this foster environment, it never turned out that way, the city was in their blood and they had no interest in country life.

Junior would get visits from his four siblings regularly when they came to the farm for birthdays, special occasions and holidays, Grandma Young insisted on this.

Grandma was known to Junior as mom or ma, and Grandfather as dad but the other four children only knew them as grandma and granddad, this is the way it was even after all kids grew up.

Donald young Junior would grow up on the grandparent’s 780-acre farm, and was raised as their own son and only boy child.

Junior had a tremendous amount of freedom to explore the land and learn all natures’ wonders it had to offer.

It was heavily wooded farmlands, located in North Central Wisconsin. The land was very diverse, and Don knew every inch, from the wooded hills to the dark deep swamps, and acres of rolling fields.

Wandering over the land was his passion, as common to him as breathing. Juniors outdoor education started early in life with his granddad, who was an exceptional hunter, trapper, and fisherman, a true old world outdoorsman. Grandfather knew the tricks for outdoor survival, no matter what the season. Grandfather, Donald Sr. was Born before automobiles, when the horse and saddle or buggy were still standard transportation to all common folk. A hard worker and World War II veteran, he always made time for Junior and taught him to respect the natural outdoors.

One of the Grandfather’s pastimes was to carve, he would sit under the old willow tree and carve beautiful wooden fishing lures, this craft he would only share with Junior.

Grandmother was an old fashion Nebraska-born farm girl, and in her younger adult years was a real knockout, one who could have surely been a model.

A miracle worker with nature’s medicinal gifts, she could treat and cure her animals or family when they fell sick.

She knew her plants for food, wild herbs for medicine, and how to find, grow or harvest them.

Grandmother always told Junior that he has a special gift, and someday he would understand it completely.

All her spare time was spent teaching Junior the art of wild herbs, roots, and mushrooms used for cures.

This was priceless knowledge that would follow him throughout his days, and even help save others.

Visions and dreams that began early in juniors mind would continue occurring on a regular basis to influence his lifelong path.

Don’s grandparents were amazed at how wildlife of all types reacted tame in his presence, often following him home to their farm.

He had a magical way with wild animals, able to gain their trust and friendship, walking among them as though one of their own.

Junior was wild at heart, free-spirited as any of the animals he spoke to or spent his time with.

He was bonded for life to the outdoors, no matter what happened, setbacks or hard times, Don always returned to the forest, it was what he knew best, it was his calling.

Things that happened early in Donald Young Junior’s life would influence future events and would help him discover hidden mysteries in the natural world or spiritual realms all around him.

He would make a name for himself as a wildlife specialists, guide, tracker of man or animal, healer and survivalist.

His knowledge of herbal medicines and spirit work would gain him the powerful title, Verde Brujo healer among Latin Americans and Mide shaman to many in Native American circles.

People and paranormal groups around the world would seek his knowledge of natural or spiritual matters to help solve their mysteries.

As a tracker, Donald’s abilities became legend to many in Cryptozoological societies for his ability to identify sign of known from unknown species.

A lifetime spent in deep forests close to wild animals made his knowledge of habitation an asset to any expedition or hunters ready to hire.

Although targeted by the media for his encounters and outdoor experiences, Donald was never a social person by heart and did not enjoy appearing on radio talk shows or television documentaries as some people thought. He preferred the quiet solitude of the deep forest, and the company of wild animals. His participation in movies as a consultant or appearances in television documentaries was to him a way of broadening his and others insight about forest spirits or Cryptids. Even large-scale expeditions were not to his liking, but to him, that was also an educational opportunity for learning from other witness’s about their encounters or them from his.

Written dictation of informative introduction by:

Carol Lynn Young

PREFACE (PART 2)

It was a cold January night on the Young’s family farm. Junior only eight finished his chores and then made his way across the snow-covered yard toward their house.

The northeast wind blew hard, and snow crystals stung his face as he walked.

His rubber boots squeaked in the snow, and each step made an eerie flapping sound like something or someone following close behind him.

Junior turned quickly around but saw only the barn and his own tracks in the snow.

He continued on his way, the old willow tree over to one side of their yard catching his attention as its ice-covered branches, snapped and crackled with every swaying movement caused by the wind.

Junior passed by this ancient willow to the house, opened its front porch door, stepped in quickly and turned again to look back toward the barn, nothing there but wind rattling the willow, and snow blowing over his tracks.

A sigh of relief, Junior shut the door, shook snow from his coat and hat, then hung them up.

He walked to the cast iron wood stove which was crackling hot, kicked off his boots and leaned over its surface to warm his face and hands.

Grandma was over at the sink washing up the last of their supper dishes.

She looked over at Junior with a tired smile and asked, Did you remember to lock the big barn door, and push the hay to the cows?

He looked up at her, then back down at the stove top and replied, Yes of course. Grandma dried her hands and asked, Do I have to go and check? Because yesterday you left the door open all night! Junior rolled his eyes, slipped on his boots, coat and hat, began to grumble softly as he headed for the door.

Grandma yelled out, While you’re out there, brace the chicken coop door so it won’t blow open. ‘’Yeah okay," Junior replied kicking at snow while slamming the door behind him.

Grandma watched from a kitchen window as Junior made his way to the barn.

The front barn door opened with a bang as the wind tore it from his hands. Junior pulled hard against blowing winds grasp and closed the door behind him.

Inside the barn, it was warm from the combined body heat of all the cows.

He felt his way in darkness, found the switch panel and turned on a column of lights.

Air in the barn had a hazy thin cloud of vapor from all the cows’ breath, and this humid mist felt warm on his face.

Down center aisle of the barn, he could see the back door was, in fact, open, and nights darkness made the entrance look like a black hole, opening and closing as the door swung freely in winter’s cold wind.

As Junior got in front of the entrance, he stared out into winter’s black night, and from the swamp below their cow yard hill, came a long low howl through the wind.

But before the call finished, that big heavy wood door crashed shut, causing Junior to jump back in stunned fear.

Junior then grabbed the door and dropped the latch to lock it, before it could swing back open. He smiled to himself and made a comment to the cow nearest him, Why didn’t you lock it?

He went to the aisle in front of the cows and started pushing hay to them all. Mice scurried across the aisle ledge, stopping here and there to gather hayseeds, then dodge off into shadows, their beady little black eyes watching juniors every move. The barn cats lay sprawled out in the aisle watching all the mice, but were too well fed on house scraps and milk to show interest in an ever growing mouse population. It seems the cats are active only when Grandma is in the barn for milking.

It is then that Grandma reminded Junior most of the Pied piper, as a group of cats follow close on her heels, from cow to cow, meowing and rubbing up against her legs, until she gives in and pours them all some milk.

However, junior’s wide range of imagination also includes the mice, as he pretends to be on adventures, after the elusive and dangerous mouse, hunting them for hours on end with his trusty BB gun, only later to feel bad for the mouse after killing it.

Hay all pushed to the cows, Junior now goes over to the stall where his pony, Dolly is kept, then tosses a slab of hay into her manger. A fast glance across the barn and he turned off all lights.

As Junior approached the barns front door, he remembers that howl from the swamp, and his imagination stirred thoughts of werewolves and other creatures of the night. This only made hairs on his neck stand up, and leaving the safety of the barn harder to do. In his mind he imagined a large creature was waiting just outside the door, ready to grab him when it opens. Wind pounding against the door did not help to calm this situation. With all the care of a watchmaker, Junior gently lifted the doors latch, then with a rush of bravery thrust it open against resisting winds, and jumped out into darkness to meet the creature head on, nothing there, just a gust of wind and snow blasting his face, Junior turned and locked the door.

He could just barely see the chicken coop, 50 steps or so off alongside the barn. The wind between those two buildings had caused a deep snow drift to form. Each step Junior took filled his boots with more snow, but finally, he stood at the coop’s door. He opened it, stepped inside and felt around in the air above his head for the string that turned on a single light hanging from a rafter.

Rats scattered across the floor in all directions when the light came on, chickens just sat up on their perches, a cluck here and there. Junior grabbed the steel bar from a far wall and headed back, turned off the light, and outside he went, closed the door then pushed the bar against doors center to secure it. He whispered, Mission accomplished.

Junior looked around and saw a dim light far across the yard; it was the light in the kitchen window of their house, a welcome and comforting sight.

As Junior got closer to the house, he could make out the image of Grandma in the window watching and in waiting for his return. Then, as before, from the big swamp came a long low based howl traveling on the cold wind. It was much deeper in tone than howls made by wolves that he has heard in the past. Junior stood there under the willow waiting to hear another howl, but the wind snapping branches made it difficult.

Junior then jumped and yelled in fear as a hand grabbed his shoulder, it was Grandma; she came out to see what was keeping him from coming in out of the wind. Another long low howl came from the swamp, and Grandma glanced in the direction of the call, looked down at Junior, nudged him towards the house and said, Go on, get in the house now. Go on, I’m coming.

As they entered the house, Grandma stopped in its doorway and looked back towards the swamp. She then closed the door with a solid slam and locked it.

Inside, Grandma looked at Junior and in a firm voice said, You stay around the yard for the next few days! Now go take your bath and get ready for bed, Donna is coming tomorrow for a visit.

Grandma then took his coat, hat and boots out to the porch. Junior did as his grandma said; he ran a hot bath and soaked the barn grime off himself. Grandma came in the bathroom and brought junior fresh underwear, she commented to him, Donna wants to see a clean boy tomorrow, so wash behind your ears. Hurry up now, so you can get to bed!

Grandma walked out and shut the bathroom door.

A quick splash then dunk, and Junior was out of the tub, toweled off dry, and then slid into the clean underwear. Out of the bathroom, he ran, jumped into bed and pulled the fresh clean cool sheets and blankets over himself. Junior’s room was always colder than the rest of the house, but he liked it that way.

Grandma came in, kissed Junior on the forehead and told him, I love you, now go to sleep.

Little had anyone known the days to follow would change junior’s life forever.

CHAPTER 1

COMING HOME

That night, I couldn’t sleep; my mind was racing with thoughts of tomorrow, and of those howls heard earlier. I couldn’t help but remember what my uncle Merle once told me,’’ If you hear the howl of a lone wolf, or call of an owl in the storm of a night, someone you know will die.’’ My imagination constructed images in the room’s shadows, of beasts from horror movies, werewolves, vampires, or the evil flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. Those thoughts, along with the wind rattling my bedroom window panes, made me scared, nervous and alert.

On top of that, I was overwhelmed with excitement that Donna was coming to visit tomorrow. After all, I hadn’t seen her for weeks now, and I missed her so.

Ma was excited too; I could hear her in the kitchen getting things ready. She would be up most of the night cleaning the house and cooking a special meal for tomorrow’s occasion.

I could smell the fresh apple cinnamon pie she was baking in the oven, my stomach grumbled and mouth watered as I thought how good that pie would taste.

I wondered if Ma would bake her special spiced elephant ear pastries Donna and I loved so much, or her chocolate covered popcorn. Ma loved to spoil us with these special treats.

Dad was already in bed, he had to work the first shift at the factory. Even though he didn’t show it, I could tell he was also excited Donna was coming home to visit.

I’m sure Ma told everyone that Donna was returning home, so they would all be here, Uncle Frank, Aunt Minnie, cousin B, and Bill with my siblings

I couldn’t wait; it was always a house full when Donna came home.

B and Donna would always play hide and seek with me, or take turns pulling me around on a sled or wagon.

I believe, though, the only reason they played hide and seek with me was when I would hide, they could get a timeout from my pestering.

The more I would dwell on everything, the harder it was getting for me to sleep. It wasn’t until 2 AM when I finally did fall off to sleep.

I had a dream of floating around the yard like Aladdin on a magic carpet.

Ma was trying to catch me, but I flew to the top of our barn out of her reach. I stood on the roof, looked down at her, and then the carpet flew away leaving me on the roof.

My horse had wings in this dream, like mythical Pegasus, and she flew up to rescue me.

My dream was interrupted by early morning smells of bacon, eggs, and toast, so I crawled out of bed and peeked out my bedroom door.

Dad was sitting at the table with his oversized coffee cup, reading a paper.

Ma looked over at me and said, Go wash up and come eat, Donna should be here soon. I ran to the sink, rinsed the sleep from my eyes, and washed my hands. Ma made up a plate with two eggs, bacon and toast.

She set it on the table next to dad, he put his paper down, grabbed a strip of bacon from my plate and bit off the end, then looked over at me and said, Junior, come on and eat, the bacon’s perfect. Then gave a little chuckle and sipped his coffee.

I sat next to dad and started to eat. Ma came over and asked dad what time he would be home? Dad set the cup down, pulled out his pocket watch, and replied while winding it, I should be back around four. Okay. Ma said, and back to the kitchen, she went.

I looked over at dad as he brought the cup to his mouth, then he paused and said, I don’t know what Ma has planned today, but give her a hand, okay buckshot?

He then put his hand on my head, mussed up my hair and said, Eat up now and go get dressed.

I nodded yes and smiled as dad grabbed another slice of bacon off my plate.

I finished my breakfast and then ran off to my room so I could get dressed.

Ma pulled back the blanket to my rooms door, peeked in and said, Go feed your horse, and come right back in, I don’t want you getting all dirty, and pick up your room, it’s a mess, hurry up now!

Ma let the blanket fall back across my doorway then she walked over by dad and sat down.

A couple minutes later the phone rang and I heard ma answer it. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, so I poked my head out the doorway and could see her on the phone.

Dad got up from his chair, ma looked over at him, her eyes started to pool over and she hung up the receiver. She stood in silence looking at the phone, then I heard dad in a low voice say, Ethie, what is it? Ma’s name was Ethel, but dad’s pet name for her was Ethie.

She turns to him, her cheeks and eyes filled with tears and yells, Donna is dead!

Ma collapses in dad’s arms and starts to cry with her face buried in his shoulder. Dad held Ma tight in stunned silence, swaying back and forth as if to comfort her pain. Dad then looked over in my direction, he saw me in the doorway, a confused and shocked look on my face.

For the first time ever, I saw tears building up in that strong man’s eyes, showing a weakness that truly scared me.

I backed up and allowed the blanket to shut over the door.

The back of my legs touched the beds edge and I sat down, I could not believe what I just heard or even if I was supposed to.

For what seemed like hours, I sat on the corner of my bed in still shadows. The dim morning sun peeking at me with dust filled shards of light, reflecting from my bedroom window.

Images and memories of Donna filled my mind of past times she would visit and play games with me.

I could hear mom coming, she pulled the doors blanket to one side and came in, sat next to me and didn’t say a word, just hugged and held me close to her.

I could hear dad on the phone to work and I presume to call family with the bad news. When dad was done and hung up the phone, Ma wiped her eyes, looked down at me and said, Get dressed now okay, we have to go somewhere. She then turned and walked out of my room.

Without question, I got dressed, and could hear dad outside starting the old truck. Ma had her coat on, her purse in one arm and my coat in the other. She set her purse on the table and helped me on with my jacket.

While I buttoned it up, Ma pulled a white hanky from her purse, licked it, and then wiped the corner of my mouth. Oh Junior, you’ve got egg on your face.

She made an attempt to smile, but her red cheeks and tear-swollen eyes took over her emotions.

She kissed me on the forehead and said, Okay, let’s go, daddies waiting, he has the truck warmed up for us. We made our way outside, Ma opened the truck door, and I jumped up sliding over against dad.

Ma then got in and slammed the door shut.

Dad didn’t say a word, just stared straight ahead and drove the truck. I had to move my legs over, so dad could shift the gear stick. Ma had her arm around me, and her other hand held a hanky, free to wipe her eyes when she began to tear up.

The truck was an old rusty red 1948 Ford, that dad bought new when he returned home from the Great War. It was nothing to look at, had no radio, but it was reliable, and dad didn’t even slide once on the ice covered roads as he drove with the serious mission of mind.

When we arrived at a hospital, dad got out of the truck first and ran around to open its passenger door for Ma and me.

As we entered the lobby, Ma pointed to a couch, she told me to sit there and wait, that they would be right back.

Ma and dad walked up to a big desk spoke to a woman there dressed all in white, and they went down a long hallway through two large swinging doors.

I did as told and sat on the couch, it was a scary place, all white in color and the air smelled funny.

I was all alone except for a small girl about 3 or 4 years old. She was playing with toys over in a far corner of that large white room.

The girl had short shoulder length blonde hair, wore a white flower pattern dress and in her arms held a stuffed pink rabbit with long floppy black ears,

She looked at me and smiled, then came over and said, Hi, wanna play? She grabbed my hand and led me over to the pile of toys.

We played with a variety of stuffed animals, rubber balls, blocks, and toy cars for about 20 minutes.

The little girl then picked up her stuffed pink rabbit, got up and said to me, I have to go now, bye. She waved and walked away down the same hallway through those two big doors my mom and dad went down earlier.

I grabbed a small metal toy car and went back over to the couch. I looked all around that room, but there was no one else to play with.

A few minutes passed and Ma came out to me.

She was crying again, and I didn’t know what to do or say, so I just sat there and looked up at her. She then put her hanky in her coat pocket, grabbed my jacket off the couch and said, Get your coat on Junior, come on sweetheart, let’s go to the truck, daddy will be right out. Ma then helped me on with my coat, and she held my hand as we went out to get in our truck.

Dad came out shortly after; he got in the truck and asked Ma, Anywhere else we have to stop? She shook her head no and said, Let’s just get home. He started the truck and we were on our way.

It was a silent trip, no one spoke, and Ma stared out the side window while dad looked straight ahead as he drove. I was too short to see out, so the dash was what had my focus.

When we arrived at the farm, it was starting to snow; the big flakes seemed to take their time, in no real hurry to reach the ground.

Ma and I went in the house, as dad parked our truck. She started a fire in the wood stove, and then told me to get changed out of my good clothes, I did as told.

Ma sat at the kitchen table, she didn’t say a word, just stared out the window at a bird feeder and watched as fresh snow covered it.

Dad was busy on the phone calling friends and relatives, making arrangements. It was quiet around the house, the next couple of days. Ma or Dad didn’t speak much to me or each other. We just went like robots doing our chores around the farm. Dad and I helped Ma out with her farm work.

Friends and family members would stop in from time to time or call and give their condolences, briefly at most.

Ma would always go back to the window and sit there for hours, getting up to make coffee for people as they would show up, or to cook Dad and me our meals. I could see a part of Ma died with Donna.

Both dad and ma had changed, they seldom smiled or spoke with cheer anymore, instead forced themselves to grin occasionally only for my sake.

The day of the funeral was overcast, as gray weather also seemed to feel sorrows loss, and trees all bare of leaves showed death was in fashion. Everyone in black suits and dresses cast a much darker shadow on the day. The funeral parlor was full of people, most I never met, and I had no idea our family was that popular.

Donna was beautiful, she looked so peaceful and at rest, only the skin tone Band-Aid on her forehead was out of place.

One by one, family members and people I never saw before passed by her coffin, then would come over and give Ma, Dad and me a hug.

I can’t remember if I cried, my mind was a blank haze like the gray overcast weather.

Ma and all the women would huddle together and cry, while my Dad stood strong, tight lipped, shaking hands or receiving hugs.

After the final burial ceremony, everyone came to our farm for a fair well supper. Aunts and other women helped Ma in the kitchen, cook and serve food to all the people. Kids all went outside to play in the snow. My cousin B led my horse around and gave the little children rides.

I just watched from my window, in the bedroom or wandered around in the crowd among rooms of our home. A few times as I would pass by people they would point at me and whisper to each other, Is that him? Was she drinking too? Did he know that was his mother? slurry of sharp comments, made me feel cold and distant towards all these people.

Later on, Ma located me and took me to my room and sat with me. At first, I thought I did something wrong and she was going to scold me.

But no, instead she gave me a hug, and asked me if I understood what all was going on? And that Donna was in a very bad car accident? I told her, Yeah, Donna is gone, right? She then looked me in the face, a tear in her eye and said, yes sweetheart, she is gone forever, a drunk driver crashed into her car.

Ma then grabbed my hand in hers, squeezed it firmly and said, I have something important to tell you, I need you to pay attention, okay? Okay, I replied. You know Donna always loved you, right? Ma said with a soft low voice.

I shook my head yes. Ma then pulled me close and hugged me as she whispered in my ear, I love you too, Shitpot. A pet name Ma called me.

She then looked back in my eyes and said, Donna was your real mommy, she needed Daddy and I to raise you, are you okay Hun? I shook my head yes then said, You’re my mom, ma.

Ma hugged me tight for a minute, kissed me on the forehead, and went back out to the crowd.

I sat in my bedroom for a good hour, thinking of what my Ma had told me. It did not bother me; after all, Ma and Dad had done a good job raising me. Even though they were officially my grandparents, I knew them only as Ma and Dad, and that is how it would stay.

After a while, I made it out of my room and back into the crowd, most all had left except for the direct family members.

As I walked through the rooms of our house, I noticed that Dad was nowhere to be found. I thought maybe he had gone outside to get some air, or check on the kids.

Out the kitchen window, towards the barn, I could see B still giving horse rides, but Dad was not there. A quick glance under the big willow, he was not there either.

I went outside to look around and on the north side of our house, my eyes caught that the basement door was cracked open. I went over to it and looked in, there in the center of the wood room was Dad, sitting on a splitting block, cigarette in his hand, crying alone.

It was not his way to let anyone see him grieve. I backed away from the door silently and went back up inside of the house. Dad would never know I saw him cry.

Ma was sitting on the couch in our living room. A bunch of family members sat at her side and surrounded the couch.

I wondered what they were doing, so I made my way to the couch back and peeked over ma’s shoulder. She had a photo album on the coffee table and was showing everyone memories captured. There were pictures of Donna holding a baby, sitting by a Christmas tree, other pictures of a small girl in a black snowsuit with a collie dog by her side. But a picture at the bottom caught my attention most, a girl standing against a wall, with blonde shoulder length hair, holding a long black-eared stuffed rabbit, and wearing a white flower pattern dress.

I leaned in over Ma’s shoulder, pointed and said, she was at the hospital. Ma grinned and replied, Yes Hun, I know, that’s Donna when she was little. (I would never mention it again.)

CHAPTER 2

MEMORIES ROSE

Later on, that evening, after everyone left, I went back into our living room, sat on the couch and opened that photo album still on the coffee table. I paged through it slowly, taking in all our families past. Then opened the page to that girl’s photo I pointed out to Ma earlier.

After starring at the old black and white photo it was now certain to me, this was that girl from the hospital, I played with.

But how could that be? And would I ever see her again? Those questions would not be asked by me again, until a few years later when I reopened the album. Although I was only eight years old, I could not ignore the paranormal door that opened up to me for the first time, or was it?

I sat there and thought again of the wolf howl that cold night before Donna died. Emotions started to build up in me as I thought; maybe Donna would still be alive if I never heard the wolf howl?

I was angry now, but also scared of the unknown, and curious with the hope I may see that girl Donna again.

I thought ‘’could it happen if I believe?’’

Ma came into the living room and sat down by me on the couch; she put her arm around me and asked how I was doing? I told her, fine, just looking through the album. Okay, she said, just put it back in the bookshelf when you’re done, I’m bushed. Ma got up, kissed me on the top of the head, then said, Good night Hun, don’t be up too late. Okay goodnight I replied. She walked into Dad’s and her room then closed their door.

I slumped back into the couch, with our photo album in my lap, looked across the room at ma’s porcelain figures of Christ and Marie, then whispered softly, What kind of God are you to let Donna die? I then slammed the album shut with a thud, got up, walked to the book shelf and slid the album in between two books that had a space between, just right for the album.

I glared over again at the religious figurines and shook my head in a side to side motion, clicked off the living room light, wondered into our kitchen and opened the fridge.

It was filled with leftovers from the day. I saw nothing I wanted, just picked at a piece of ham, closed the fridge door and went to bed.

I was very tired, so it didn’t take me very long to fall asleep.

That night, I dreamt Donna came to visit me; she had denim bell bottom pants, with flowers patterns sewn into the outside of the legs, sandals that showed her toes polished red with a red sash of silk tied around her waist, to highlight her nails and bright red lipstick.

She had a white silk shirt, with long loose sleeves, and a dark brown fringed leather vest, that made the outfit complete. In her hair was a white daisy, the stem tucked behind her right ear. On her left-hand fingers, she wore four silver rings. And on her right-hand thumb was a ring of gold. Around Donna’s neck was a black bead necklace, with a turquoise symbol of peace on center. She extended her hand to me, palm side up and said, Don’t be scared baby boy, take my hand. I walked toward her and placed my hand on hers. It was warm and smooth. Donna closed her hand around mine and gently pulled me in close, I didn’t resist. Donna’s arms wrapped around me, her hair smelled of lilac blossoms and black licorice. I put my arms around her, closed my eyes and hugged her tight.

She felt so good, so soft, and so real. I said to her, Don’t leave me. Donna replied in a low soft voice, I’m home for good, I’ll never leave you, baby. She knelt down to look into my eyes, then said: Come with me, I want to show you something. Donna took my hand again and we appeared in an endless field of white daisy flowers, like the one in her hair. Bees and hummingbirds were everywhere, dancing on air from flower to flower, buzzing past us as we walked through the field of flowers. Donna let go of my hand, put her arms up in the air, spun in a circle and yelled, It’s important not to ever rush things! She then looked over at me and giggled.

Off in a distance, I could see a large oak tree towering towards the blue cloudless sky. Donna then looked at me very seriously and asked, Do you trust me, baby? I was wide-eyed and excited; I shook my head indicating yes, and said: Of course I trust you. She ran to me and grabbed my hand, and said with a smile, Come on this way. We ran through flowers and stopped about one hundred yards from the big oak, as dark clouds rolled in over us, and the sky turned from blue to gray.

A flock of crows flew from the mighty oak, and its leaves fell to the ground. The flowers folded closed and wilted the bees we heard no more.

Next to the oak appeared a dark wood coffin, polished with silver trim and handles. It was suspended in air three feet off the ground. Donna pointed to the coffin and then turned with me in a full circle to show me all the land.

When we looked back at the coffin, Donna said, in a low soft voice, Don’t fear death Hun, it is all around us, every day, everywhere, it is part of life. The dark clouds then drifted off, and blue sky was above us once again. The flowers flowered and the oak budded with new leaves. Hummingbirds and bees were dancing again on the waves of warm air.

Where the coffin was, in its place, lie an acorn cracked and with sprout. Again Donna smiled at me, she held out her hand as before, palm up, I did not hesitate and placed my hand back in hers and smiled back.

We appeared at home on the farm, under the big willow tree, Dad and Ma were not around; it was overcast weather like a fall afternoon. I looked up in the willow, there was a large great horned owl resting on a limb, its head rotated left then right. Donna let go of my hand, looked up at the owl and extended her arms out to each side.

The owl locked its eyes on her and swooped down. Talons of the great owl dug deep into Donna’s forearm, just below her elbow, but she doesn’t flinch or move. Donna turns towards me as the large bird flaps its wings, digging deeper yet into her arm to hold on.

Donna looks at me and says Owl is your friend and guardian of the night. Never harm him, or his kind.

The owl looks at me, fly’s off and away.

Wounds in Donna’s arm bleed from the deep holes made by the owl’s talons. Blood trickled down her arm to the fingertips and pool up on the ground.

Donna tells me to watch and as I watch the pool of blood widen, a dark maroon rose appears and grows from the pools center.

With her hand soaked in blood, Donna picks the rose and hands it to me. As I grab the stem, a thorn pokes my finger and a drop of blood forms.

Donna smiles, and in her soft voice, says to me Now and forever, never apart, we are now one. Her arm and hand are then free of blood or wound and my finger is healed.

Donna takes the rose from me and places it on the seat of Dad’s bench under the willow.

Again, she holds her hand out to me, palm up. I take her hand in mine, and we appear in a dark cedar swamp, the fog slowly moves through trees above moss and ferns covering the ground. The sky above is hidden and dark, but there is light upon us both.

We approach a stone slab surrounded by vines, thorns and trumpet shaped flowers. Donna leads me by the hand to the stone and tells me, Sit here Hun, I will be right back. I did as she said without question and sat upon the damp, cold slab of stone. Then Donna walks off into the swamp shadows. I feel alone and scared without her.

Soon enough she returns from the shadows, and on her right, there is a large black wolf with eyes red like glowing embers. She looks down at the wolf and strokes its head, folding down the erect ears. The wolf looks up at her and licks her hand, then looks at me and sits at her side.

From behind Donna, comes a very big black bear, walking upright on hind legs, he towers over Donna. The bear drops down on all four feet when he approaches her left side. Donna puts her hand on the bears broad head, and her other on the wolf. Donna looks at me, then both bear and wolf look at me. She smiles and says, Come over here Junior.

I hesitate, but Donna says again, Come on, they won’t harm you. Slowly I start towards Donna. The wolf wrinkles up its nose and I see teeth, then the bear stands on his hind legs. The wolf sniffs the air in my direction, steps forward and licks my wrist.

The bear reaches out around me with its huge paw and pulls me into its chest area, then sniffs my head, licks my face and releases me.

I step back and Donna says to me, These are your friends like the owl, respect them and never hunt them or their kind.

Both the wolf and the bear took one final look at me and walked away together into the swamps shadows.

Then Donna knelt down in front of me and held both my hands in hers and said, Never hate or fear the wolf’s howl, we need to hear their messages. She then gives me a hug and says, you’ll do fine. Then stood up and held out her hand, I placed my hand on hers.

Donna and I stood again, back in the field of flowers, with bees and hummingbirds busy as before. The sun was orange and starting to set in golden skies horizon. Far off in a distance, across the flowers, I could see the farmhouse, the barn, and the old willow.

Donna squeezed my hand and we started across the field towards the farm. I looked up at her, smiled and told Donna, I love you.

When we got to the willow in the yard, it was almost dark. Donna and I lay under the willow facing up at the sky. She leans in, kisses me on the cheek and says, I love you too, baby boy. With my head resting on her arm, she starts to hum a tune and before long I fall asleep.

When I wake up, I am in my bed; outside it is white with winter, no spring field of flowers, bees or hummingbirds.

I could still smell licorice and lilac blossoms, so I looked around my room, but no Donna. My eyes started to water over but I wiped the tears away with a wrist. Crawled out of bed and peeked out my doors blanket, there was Dad having his morning coffee in an oversized cup and Ma sitting next to him, with a plate of French toast waiting for me at the end of our table.

Dad spots me first as I walk to the sink, I rinse off my eyes, wash my hands and Ma says, Come on and eat Junior before it gets cold. Ma seemed to be in a better mood, I noticed a grin when I sat at the table.

Dad sipped his coffee and read the paper. Ma then came over to me and sat down, she asked, How are you doing, Hun? Okay, I replied. She then asked, What’s that? Grabbed my napkin and wiped my cheek. As she pulled away, on the napkin was a dark red smudge of lipstick. Surprised, I grabbed the napkin, looked at it, then folded it in half and ran to my room. I thought to myself, it was all real, and I put the napkin in my little trinket box on my dresser.

When I came back out of my room, both Ma and Dad were staring at me. Ma then asked, What was that all about? What, I replied. Ma rolled her eyes and said, Goofball, finish your food. I need you to clean out the calf stall today. Yeah, okay, I said.

After breakfast, Dad left for work and Ma went out to milk the cows. I went back to my room and pulled out the napkin to look it over better. It looked to me as the same shade of lipstick Donna was wearing in my dream. My thoughts raced and I remembered the scent of lilac and licorice when I woke up, it must be real!

In the kitchen, Ma had my coat hanging up for me, and my barn boots warming by the stove.

As I got dressed for the barn, I couldn’t help but think about the napkin, but it would have to wait.

I went out to the barn and rushed to get my chores done. The barn and calf pen clean, I headed back to the house, took off all my barn clothes and ran back into my room.

Ma came in and opened up the doors blanket, she said, What, your horse don’t get any feed or water? Get back out there. I put my barn clothes and boots back on and followed her back out to the barn. I grabbed a pail of water, scoop of oats and a slab of hay for my horse, Dolly, then ran back for the house.

As I passed the willow tree, there on Dad’s bench, sitting on top of fresh snow, in seats center, was a dark maroon rose.

I froze, then went over and picked it up. I put the rose in my trinket box with the napkin. Never again did I see Donna in spirit, vision or dream. Perhaps the lipstick on my cheek and the rose were remnants left from the funeral, or were they?

CHAPTER 3

BIRTHDAY BOY

A few weeks had passed by and things started to get back to normal. I could see, though, a deep change in Dad, he had lost his sense of humor and was no longer as talkative like before Donna’s death. He was nowhere near as happy any longer, and ma was more serious diving into work much like Dad. Both, however, still took plenty of time for me, trying their very best to disguise the sorrow deep inside themselves.

As the weeks turned to months, Ma continued to teach me about mushrooms and herbs we collected on walks in the wild. She also had a monstrous garden that I was recruited to help weed.

Dad took me fishing or for long walks into the forest, showing me all the different animals, their particular types of habitats and how we could survive in harmony alongside them.

Almost every afternoon for an hour or so, Dad and I would sit together under the willow on his bench. I would watch as he carved beautiful fishing lures. Eventually, I would be carving them too, right alongside Dad, learning the craft. Dad told me that someday, I may get good enough to use my carved lures, or even sell them to people.

Ma had her bird feeders all over the yard and fed the birds religiously. They seemed to calm her as she drifted in thought, watching them up close and from the kitchen window.

Ma had every bird imaginable visiting her countless feeders. There were grosbeaks, cardinals, cowbirds and grackles, blue jays, Canadian jays, chickadees, and sparrows, Juncos, snow birds, nuthatches, and woodpeckers. She even had red squirrels come and eat from her hand, buttering her up with their playful antics, just so she would allow them to stay.

I even started to watch the birds with her and in the wild, how each different bird would crack open a seed or catch an insect, flight patterns, nesting habits and seasons.

When I would locate a crow, raven or hawk nest, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to climb the tree heights just to have a peek in at eggs or chicks, only at times to get attacked by dive-bombing parents. This, of course, forced me to build blinds so I could watch from the ground as these parent birds fed and readied their chicks for first flight. I also became proficient in my abilities to sneak on my belly getting within a few feet of grouse drumming on logs, or crawling in the field to get close to Sandhill’s and geese feeding.

For visiting water birds like ducks, loons, or geese, I managed to acquire an old twelve-foot canoe, free from a neighbor. Dad cut dinner plate size holes in the canoe sides as to my instruction, and helped me fasten clear plexiglass over them. I would turn over the canoe in a pond, lake or river and from inside swim along watching waterfowl do their thing up close, unnoticed and undisturbed.

Of course, life was not all fun and games; there would be plenty of farm work to pass the time. Like my usual chores, cleaning the barn, helping mend fences, cutting firewood alongside Dad, and haying season with our area family members. Whenever the chance would present itself, though, I would frequently succeed in skipping out of work to go wander through forests, swamps, and fields.

The fishing season also took priority over my chores, as there was always a fish calling out my name.

On my 9th birthday, Uncle Merle, Aunt Bernice, Lorraine and Emma Young showed up from their home in Illinois.

Uncle Merle was a laid back country boy at heart, with a set of bad lungs from his three packs a day smoking habit.

He served with the marines over in Vietnam, and always had the telltale G.I. butch haircut to show for it.

Bernice, his wife, my Dad’s sister, was softer spoken, shy and reserved, while Lorraine, Dad’s other sister, was an ex-army WAC, always serious, and to the point.

My dad’s mother, Emma Young, with skin milky white and smooth as silk, seemed frail like a china doll. She always had to pinch my cheeks and kiss me all over the face, drove me nuts! But they were my family, and I loved them.

The black sheep of the family, my Uncle Rudy, also showed up. He had a large set Indian with him who went by the name, Ben Standing Crow, but Rudy just called him Ben. He didn’t speak much, just stood by Rudy, arms crossed with no expression. My Dad was putting in a new well head and also running lines to the barn for Ma. Apparently, he called Rudy to come and help.

Later on in the day, Uncle Frank, Aunt Minnie and their daughter B showed up. Uncle Frank was my Ma’s brother, and he also ranked in the family as an expert woodsman. His dark complexion with jet black hair hinted towards a Native appearance. He often told us stories of how he used this look to get girls when he was younger back in Nebraska.

Bill arrived late as usual, with my two siblings and old Grandma Smetak in tow.

Dinner started at 5:00, and all adults gathered in the dining room while we kids got a small table in the kitchen, making us feel special. There was plenty to eat, hams, turkey, and casseroles galore.

At around 6 or so that evening, everyone gathered around the big dining room table to watch as I blew out my cakes candles. Everyone got a slice, topped with ice cream, and sat in festive silence to enjoy.

Time for presents everyone! Ma yelled. Everyone moved to the living room. I sat in the floors center with my sister and brother. Ma would feel guilty if she didn’t get gifts for all the kids, not just the birthday boy or girl. She approached me first, with a long thin box, Sis was handed a medium rectangular box, and little brother got a small square one. We all ripped our gift wrap off, revealing each present to everyone in the room. Mine was a new BB gun, it was a Daisy brand, lever action, and looked just like Dad’s Winchester. This BB gun was far better than my old Daisy Red Ryder that served me well so far, but was getting worn out.

I ran over to Ma and gave her a hug, then over to dad for a hug as well. Sis showed hers next, a fine looking doll, with a pull cord to make it talk. Lil brother was all smiles as he unwrapped a fancy battery powered dump truck, which to him was just as fun pushing it without batteries. All three of us were so happy; I forgot there were more gifts. Ma then said. Okay, Jr. you have others to open. Emma Young’s was first, she always gave me lots of clothes, warm sweaters, and socks she spent hours hand knitting. Bill, and my two siblings gave me a gift next; it was a pair of G.I. Joe walkie talkies. Frank, Minnie, and B came next. B teased me by holding the gift over my head, out of reach, until Uncle Frank smiled and said: Come on, let him have it. It was a long large box but light. I tore it open to see a red plastic sled, perfect I thought, for the big swamp hill this winter. Lorraine came up to me, a small box in her hand and said, Here you go, I know you don’t deserve it. I thanked her and then opened it up. Inside was a wallet of my own, and in the wallet, a 50 dollar bill. Everyone in the room made sounds of oohs and aahs.

Aunt Bernice walked over with a smile, looked over at her husband Merle, handed me a long skinny box and said, Here you go Donny, and then she sat back down. I tore off the paper, opened the box from one end and twelve cedar wood arrows fell out. I looked over at Bernice with a puzzled look on my face and said, But I don’t have a bow. Uncle Merle looked over,