Part 2
Nefertiti’s Ghost Stories
After college, I was a news producer for a television station in Chattanooga,Tennessee. Although I worked in Chattanooga, I actually lived across state lines in the small town of Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. When I initially took this entry-level position, I had perhaps two weeks to find a place to live. After scanning newspaper ads for apartment listings, I settled on a one bedroom unit at the Lakeshore Apartments. The units were small and rustic but nice and quiet. I kept to myself and my neighbors left me alone.
My hours were weird at the television station. After less than a year as a weekend news producer, I was promoted to morning show producer. Meaning, since we hit the air at five in the morning, my shift in the newsroom began around midnight. I needed plenty of time to organize the show, as well as pull stories and rewrite copy from the AP Wire. I hated leaving my apartment in the middle of the night. Often times the night sky was dark and eerie and singing cicadas unnerved me. I ran to my car many of nights and my paranoia usually followed me until I was safe in the newsroom twenty minutes later.
I think anytime a female is outside alone at night is a reason for concern. But for me, I always felt as if there was more to be frightened of in Fort Oglethorpe, GA. Something was out there. I could not pinpoint it, but I knew I was not welcomed. One night upon escaping in to the newsroom, I bumped into a reporter who was editing his piece on the KKK. He told me that the KKK was big in Fort Oglethorpe and they were aware that I worked for NEWS 12. Even with that information, I still felt as if there was something more. For those weekend nights in which I was able to sleep in, I made sure my Bible was tucked underneath me when my head hit the pillow. I know the Bible kept the spirits out, because I certainly felt them trying to get into my bedroom. They peered in on me from the hallway. They glared at me through the dark. Many eyes, many beings questioning my existence. This I felt, this I knew, and eventually I learned to fall asleep with the hall light on.
Many many years ago, a deadly battle took place not too far from where I lay my head. Known as the Battle of Chickamauga, more than 35,000 Union and Confederate soldiers lost their lives. It was the bloodiest battle of the Civil War and the bloodiest two days of American History. This bit of knowledge did not sink in to me until years later when I was far away and living in another city. I don’t know if the ghosts that wanted me gone were earthbound spirits still trapped in an endless struggle, or ghosts of another ilk jealous of my stay. I think sometimes that the dominate spirit was female, but I can’t remember for sure.
Nefertiti’s Ghost Stories
After college, I was a news producer for a television station in Chattanooga,Tennessee. Although I worked in Chattanooga, I actually lived across state lines in the small town of Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia. When I initially took this entry-level position, I had perhaps two weeks to find a place to live. After scanning newspaper ads for apartment listings, I settled on a one bedroom unit at the Lakeshore Apartments. The units were small and rustic but nice and quiet. I kept to myself and my neighbors left me alone.
My hours were weird at the television station. After less than a year as a weekend news producer, I was promoted to morning show producer. Meaning, since we hit the air at five in the morning, my shift in the newsroom began around midnight. I needed plenty of time to organize the show, as well as pull stories and rewrite copy from the AP Wire. I hated leaving my apartment in the middle of the night. Often times the night sky was dark and eerie and singing cicadas unnerved me. I ran to my car many of nights and my paranoia usually followed me until I was safe in the newsroom twenty minutes later.
I think anytime a female is outside alone at night is a reason for concern. But for me, I always felt as if there was more to be frightened of in Fort Oglethorpe, GA. Something was out there. I could not pinpoint it, but I knew I was not welcomed. One night upon escaping in to the newsroom, I bumped into a reporter who was editing his piece on the KKK. He told me that the KKK was big in Fort Oglethorpe and they were aware that I worked for NEWS 12. Even with that information, I still felt as if there was something more. For those weekend nights in which I was able to sleep in, I made sure my Bible was tucked underneath me when my head hit the pillow. I know the Bible kept the spirits out, because I certainly felt them trying to get into my bedroom. They peered in on me from the hallway. They glared at me through the dark. Many eyes, many beings questioning my existence. This I felt, this I knew, and eventually I learned to fall asleep with the hall light on.
Many many years ago, a deadly battle took place not too far from where I lay my head. Known as the Battle of Chickamauga, more than 35,000 Union and Confederate soldiers lost their lives. It was the bloodiest battle of the Civil War and the bloodiest two days of American History. This bit of knowledge did not sink in to me until years later when I was far away and living in another city. I don’t know if the ghosts that wanted me gone were earthbound spirits still trapped in an endless struggle, or ghosts of another ilk jealous of my stay. I think sometimes that the dominate spirit was female, but I can’t remember for sure.
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