Lubbock has its share of urban myths, unexplainable events and ghostly legends. Some, like the "Lubbock Lights," were well documented and cannot be disputed. Others are pure hogwash. For example, the "prison house" never belonged to a man who killed his family and built a walled house to punish himself for his evil deed. It was merely a house built of an uncommon design, and occupied by ordinary everyday people. Presumably people who grew tired of high school kids fulfilling dares by knocking on their doors at all hours of the night and driving by their home constantly to take photos. The "Memphis man" and the "Levelland Highway hitchhiker" are nothing more than optical illusions. And there is no record to support the stories that train passengers were once robbed atop the railroad trellis now known as "Hells' Gate," their bodies thrown off the trellis if they had no money to give. Yes, Hell's Gate is a spooky place, especially at night. And yes, there have been documented cases of devil worshippers and animal sacrifices in the wooded area just east of it. But no one was ever hung from the trellis or thrown off of it. That isn't to say there aren't more believable ghost stories though. In the summer of 2013 I asked a simple question of Lubbock residents: "Have you experienced anything of a ghostly nature which took place in or close to Lubbock?" I expected at best a handful of responses. Instead, I got a landslide. Some of them were too outlandish to be believed. I had to go back and amend my original request by specifying that I only wanted true stories and not fiction or fairy tales. Someone asked me, "What do you mean by true stories?" My response: "I don't want to hear the tired old tales we told around the campfire when we were children trying to scare each other. And I don't want to hear a story that you heard from a friend, who heard it from another friend, whose cousin heard it from his mailman. "If you personally experienced something ghostly in Lubbock, or if someone very close to you, like a mom or a brother or your wife did, I want to hear about it." Those were the stories I was looking for. The first Haunted Lubbock book was published in late 2014. Submissions continued to roll in long after the book went to press. I put the late submissions aside, hoping to have enough someday to do a sequel. I finally got enough. As in the first book, I have not altered these stories, except to correct some of the grammatical and spelling errors. These are the true stories, of Lubbockites, in their own words. In some cases I performed research or provided information to further their stories. In those instances, my words are in bold italics. Despite the fact that we're living in the 21st century now, and scientists now readily admit there is much they do not know about what happens after we die, there is still a certain stigma to those who claim to have "ghost" encounters. They are frequently viewed as frauds or attention seekers. Or downright crazy. On the contrary, the people I consulted for this project came from all walks of life. Professionals and laborers alike. They also had a wide variety of religious backgrounds, from ministers to atheists. How each viewed his or her encounter was based in part to their beliefs. Religious people were more apt to consider what they saw to be benevolent spirits or angels. Non-believers were more apt to call them ghosts. Because of the stigma involved, I gave each of my contributors a chance to use a pseudonym if they wanted. Some of them took me up on the offer, some didn't. But as the old television program used to say, only the names have been changed. Their stories are real.
Lubbock has its share of urban myths, unexplainable events and ghostly legends. Some, like the "Lubbock Lights," were well documented and cannot be disputed. Others are pure hogwash. For example, the "prison house" never belonged to a man who killed his family and built a walled house to punish himself for his evil deed. It was merely a house built of an uncommon design, and occupied by ordinary everyday people. Presumably people who grew tired of high school kids fulfilling dares by knocking on their doors at all hours of the night and driving by their home constantly to take photos. The "Memphis man" and the "Levelland Highway hitchhiker" are nothing more than optical illusions. And there is no record to support the stories that train passengers were once robbed atop the railroad trellis now known as "Hells' Gate," their bodies thrown off the trellis if they had no money to give. Yes, Hell's Gate is a spooky place, especially at night. And yes, there have been documented cases of devil worshippers and animal sacrifices in the wooded area just east of it. But no one was ever hung from the trellis or thrown off of it. That isn't to say there aren't more believable ghost stories though. In the summer of 2013 I asked a simple question of Lubbock residents: "Have you experienced anything of a ghostly nature which took place in or close to Lubbock?" I expected at best a handful of responses. Instead, I got a landslide. Some of them were too outlandish to be believed. I had to go back and amend my original request by specifying that I only wanted true stories and not fiction or fairy tales. Someone asked me, "What do you mean by true stories?" My response: "I don't want to hear the tired old tales we told around the campfire when we were children trying to scare each other. And I don't want to hear a story that you heard from a friend, who heard it from another friend, whose cousin heard it from his mailman. "If you personally experienced something ghostly in Lubbock, or if someone very close to you, like a mom or a brother or your wife did, I want to hear about it." Those were the stories I was looking for. The first Haunted Lubbock book was published in late 2014. Submissions continued to roll in long after the book went to press. I put the late submissions aside, hoping to have enough someday to do a sequel. I finally got enough. As in the first book, I have not altered these stories, except to correct some of the grammatical and spelling errors. These are the true stories, of Lubbockites, in their own words. In some cases I performed research or provided information to further their stories. In those instances, my words are in bold italics. Despite the fact that we're living in the 21st century now, and scientists now readily admit there is much they do not know about what happens after we die, there is still a certain stigma to those who claim to have "ghost" encounters. They are frequently viewed as frauds or attention seekers. Or downright crazy. On the contrary, the people I consulted for this project came from all walks of life. Professionals and laborers alike. They also had a wide variety of religious backgrounds, from ministers to atheists. How each viewed his or her encounter was based in part to their beliefs. Religious people were more apt to consider what they saw to be benevolent spirits or angels. Non-believers were more apt to call them ghosts. Because of the stigma involved, I gave each of my contributors a chance to use a pseudonym if they wanted. Some of them took me up on the offer, some didn't. But as the old television program used to say, only the names have been changed. Their stories are real.
