Late one night the Anderson family was returning to their home in San Antonio. They had been on a three week vacation, driving all over the Western United States. It was now 3 AM. The kids, Jessica and Sky were asleep in the back seat. Their Mom, Sarah, was snuggled in her blanket in the front. Their, Dad, Paul was driving. He was exhausted.
They were only five miles from home when the car stalled on a railroad crossing. Dead silence. Dad tried to start the car and nothing. He figured he had flooded it and waited patiently until around the bend, just a mile away, came a freight train. It’s roving light pierced through the fog and lit it up like a big silver bubble. Dad could feel the vibrations of the track beneath him. He frantically pumped the accelerator pedal, but nothing. He shook his wife awake and she look terrified in the as the red crossing lights came to life and the train horn began to wail. He said to her, no time to get everyone out, we’ve go to push. So he popped it in neutral and at that moment the car lurched forward and picked up just enough speed to roll clear of the tracks just as the 300 ton train thundered by. .
The children never even woke up. Mom and Dad hugged each other tight realizing that they were, in a way, starting new lives. Dad said, must have been on a hill without realizing it.
The car started up right away and they drove home.
Sarah took the kids inside and Paul was about to get the luggage when his neighbor, a police detective about to go on the early shift, came over and welcomed him home. Paul told him how his family had almost been vaporized by the train and how he assumed the crossing was not level because they had rolled clear. The detective said, “No, I think you were saved by the ghost children.”
Paul scoffed, “Ghost Children! Come on! You’re a cop! You don’t believe in stuff like that.”
The detective popped the trunk on his Crown Vic and pulled out his dusting kit. He went over to the back of his Paul’s car and sprinkled a white powder across the curve of the trunk. Then he shined his Maglite on the powder. As clear as day you could see ten little hand prints outlined by the dust. Paul nearly fainted.
The Detective said, “Yep,you were saved the ghost children all right. You see many years ago a busload of kids was hit by a train in that very spot. I worked that tragedy myself. Five kids died. Many more hurt. If you will go back over there you will see that all the streets around there are named in memory of the children who lost their lives, Billy Allen, Cindy Sue, Nancy Carole, Richey Otis, Laura Lee. They haunt that crossing to spare people the horrible fate they suffered. They are doing God’s work.”
That’s the story. Some reject the idea of the ghost kids. They say cars roll off the tracks on their own because of the steep slope there, invisible to the naked eye.
Well, I think it is no fun to go to a Haunted House with a ghost atheist, so I prefer to believe in the goodness of the ghost kids.