Time slip stories

Dimensional Shift on the Hutchinson

This happened in 1986 in New York on the road between White Plains and the Throgs Neck Bridge. I was travelling the road one afternoon on my way home from White Plains to Bayside, Queens. The journey required me to travel the Hutchinson River Parkway, pay a 25-cent toll, and cross the Throgs Neck Bridge.

The road before the entrance to the Hutchinson River Parkway was confusing. It was easy to miss the exit. I remember nervously looking at the 25 cents on the tray of my Volvo, wishing the toll would come sooner than it did so I could be on my way.

That is when I missed the exit. I travelled about half a mile beyond it, and then in a panic, I decided to back up on the highway and see if I could get the exit after all. I backed up with oncoming traffic behind me, swerving the car to the shoulder to make the exit amid beeping and skidding, but I attained the exit with no damage.

Just as I reached the Hutchinson River Parkway and got on it, I heard the siren. It was a highway patrol car coming after me. I figured he witnessed my crazy driving move.

As I pulled over, I looked in the rear view mirror. The policeman that was getting out of the patrol car was the scariest one I had ever seen. Never mind the boots and the hat and the sunglasses, he just looked completely mean. I looked down at my lap and said out loud, "Dear God, I'd rather be anywhere but here."

I went into my pocketbook to get my license, and when I looked up, my car and I were sitting on the side of the entrance to the Throgs Neck Bridge -- well beyond the Hutchinson River Parkway, which I hadn't driven yet. The 25 cent toll was still on the tray in my car.

I had this funny feeling that I was frozen and I did feel stiff, so I flexed my wrists, rubbed my eyes and looked again. I was still on the entrance to the bridge -- a good 20 miles beyond the Hutchinson River Parkway. In order for this to happen, my car and I would have had to have been lifted in the air and placed back down 20 miles up the road.

After sitting for about 20 minutes in shock, I put the car in gear and drove over the bridge. Just beyond the bridge was my neighborhood. I always wondered what the cop saw. Did he see me vanish? Did it just "un-happen" for him? I will never know.
Elevator Ride to the Future

On May 25, 1983 there was a planetary alignment. We were told that nothing would happen except perhaps a slightly higher tide.

I worked at Union Life Insurance Company on Center Street in Little Rock, Arkansas. At about 8 a.m. I was making my rounds and about to begin delivering mail to the three-story corporate headquarters building.

There were two elevators, one for people and one for freight. I went to the first elevator, but the agents and secretaries had jammed it full and they shut the door in my face, leaving me holding about 100 pounds of mail up to my chin. I then went to the freight elevator, but it was also full of freight and people, so when a third elevator seemed to materialize between the two other elevators, I just got on without thinking.

When I got inside the elevator, I noticed that there were no buttons. It seems that I had gotten an instant makeover as well, now appearing in the reflective walls to be wearing a three-piece black suit instead of the blue jeans I had entered with. I seemed to have aged into an old man as well.

Since I could not find any buttons to push, I started saying something like, "Come on! I need to get to the third floor." When I did, a little box lit up in the corner of the elevator and a voice said, "Third floor..." and the number three lit up. The door opened and I stepped out of a wall on the third floor unharmed, if a little woozy and continued my rounds.
Sulfur and the House That Wasn't There

Two strange things happened in Bellingham and Everson, Washington. The first happened in the fall of 2011.

I was driving to Everson. I started to notice a slight sulfur smell. I've been driving and smelled sulfur before, so I didn't pay too much attention. The next thing I knew, the smell had become really strong. It was so strong I didn't want to breath.

I stopped at a store and said aloud for whatever to get out. I got out of the car, went into the store for a soda, then came back. The smell had faded a lot when I got back in my car. By the time I got to my destination, less than two blocks away, the smell was gone.

The second thing happened in the summer of 2012. I had gone to cash my paycheck. I was heading back the way I almost always go. I noticed a small house, among other smallish houses meant more for business than living in, with a nice lawn at the side. There was one of those real estate signs posted on the lawn.

The sign was one of those reverse L shapes with the sign itself hanging by two brackets. One of the brackets had broken so the sign swung from the other. The sign was swinging wildly like it had just broken loose or a strong wind was pushing it. It took about five seconds to pass the place and the sign just kept swinging wildly, like someone was pushing it the entire time. There was no wind at all that day.

A week later, I went down to the credit union so I looked, as I was going down in the same area, for the house with the nice lawn to see if the sign had been fixed. But there was no small house with a lawn and sign anywhere in that area. None of the places in that area had a lawn. Don't know if either of these is paranormal or just odd occurrences.
Mysterious Vanishing Cemetery

This strange happening took place back in 1977 when I was 22 years old. Two friends and I were taking a ride on a back road between the small hill towns of Savoy and Florida, Massachusetts. The lonely country road that we were traveling on suddenly ended, so we decided to park our car and take a walk in the woods.

We weren't walking for very long when we came upon a cemetery in the middle of the woods. Now, there are lots of old cemeteries in these small towns, but that isn't the strange part. The strange thing was, this cemetery looked brand new. There were beautiful flowers and inviting benches scattered throughout the cemetery. The gravestones looked new, but we couldn't get close enough to read them.

The entire cemetery was surrounded by a high, black metal fence, and the gate was locked. The perimeter of the gravestones was lined by a neatly manicured lawn and well-trimmed hedges. Even stranger was the fact that there was no road or path leading to this cemetery in the middle of the woods, so how did the groundskeeper come through the woods with lawnmowers or other tools without a road or path to get there. I'm sure they didn't fly the equipment in and drop it by helicopter.

Needless to say, we were really freaked out. And as I stated before, the cemetery grounds were meticulously taken care of and inviting in appearance. My friends and I wanted to go in that cemetery so bad. Without the gravestones, it looked more like a secret garden. Anyway, we never went in.

The next day, we came back with a few more friends. We wanted them to see this strange cemetery in the middle of the woods. So we returned to the same spot with three more friends... but we found no cemetery. We knew exactly where the cemetery had been, but it was gone. We searched for hours.

How does a decent-sized, well-maintained cemetery just disappear? It doesn't, so we kept looking. We looked and looked and looked, but to no avail. As dusk approached, we gave up and left.

On two other occasions, we returned and looked again, but we never again found the cemetery. Now, 25 years later, I was telling this story to my 25-year-old son-in-law, who had grown up in the town of Florida, Massachusetts. When I began to explain the cemetery to him, I saw the color completely drain from his face, so I stopped and asked him if something was wrong.

He explained that 10 years prior, when he was 15 years old, he had been riding his minibike through the woods when he came upon a cemetery that looked exactly as I described it. He said he rode his minibike around and around the cemetery trying to figure out how it was so well taken care of and so new looking when there wasn't even a path or a road leading to this cemetery.

My son-in-law repeated that, like the cemetery I saw, it sat smack dab in the middle of the woods, with no way to bring in lawnmowers or other equipment. He claimed that he was so freaked out that he went right home and got two of his teenage buddies to accompany him into the woods on their minibikes. These kids grew up in the area and knew the woods well.

They immediately went back to where my son-in-law had seen the strange cemetery in the middle of the woods... but there was no cemetery to be found. My son-in-law said that he recognized practically every tree and leaf as he and his friends drove their minibikes through the woods. However, when he got to the site where the cemetery should have been, there were just trees, and no sign that there was ever a cemetery on that site.

He said his friends told him that he was crazy, and he was never able to validate his story... until 10 years later when I told him my story of the vanishing cemetery. Apparently, we had seen the same cemetery, and we had no explanation for never being able to find that cemetery again. It still freaks us both out, but at least together, we both have validation that the cemetery did exist, even if only for two days, 25 years apart.
Church Apparition

This story took place several years ago, but I have never been able to forget it. It keeps popping up at random, quiet times and makes me wonder what the hell really happened.

My husband and I were considering moving further from the city than we are now. We live about forty five minutes west of St. Louis, Missouri. We drove outside of Union, Missouri to a town called Rosebud, to look at a home on some acres.

After looking at the house, we decided to drive around the area to see what the neighborhood was like. This is a very rural area and the roads off hwy 50 were gravel. We took one road after another and were pleasantly lost in the beautiful countryside.

We got on one little gravel road that was in bad shape so we had to go real slow to keep from sliding. We came upon a little abandoned church that was sitting right next to the road. We crept by it really slowly looking at it.

The windows were gone and there was no paint left. The bell tower was still there, but no bell. We could look right through the front windows to the windows on the other side. There were old pews still there, which surprised me. I would have thought they'd been stolen long ago.

Neither of us said a word and just drove on in silence. I was thinking what a crime it was to let such a neat old structure fall into ruin and assumed Charlie was thinking the same. Then he turned to me and said, "What do you think they were doing in there?" I didn't understand and he explained, "...all those people."

Well, the gist of the story is that I saw no one and Charlie saw a church full of people just sitting in the pews looking ahead or with their heads down. After a couple minutes of bantering with each other, I insisted we turn around and have a second look.

We headed back and this is where it gets even weirder. No church. We at first thought we had not gone far enough. Then we thought we went too far. No church! We found right where it should have been and there was just rocky grass that had been there a long time.

We talk of it now and then, but still can't figure out a reasonable solution.
Time Anomaly in the Wigan Wood

This event occurred on August 17, 2013 in Wigan, England. I was out in my local wood with my two dogs, walking the same route I had used on many occasions. Most times whilst walking this route I would bear left at the bottom of the footpath and walk through the trees up to a path running along farmers' fields and return back that way from where I started. This area of wood is quite dense and flat.

On this day, though, as I took this route all was normal as I began my walk through the trees. Then the landscape changed. The dense trees changed to scene of small hills which led to a ravine with about a 25-foot drop to a stream with a small well-worn bridge over it as I looked to my right.

Unable to grasp what was happening, I continued walking, looking for the path along the field which should have been there, but never came. After about 15 minutes, I was starting to get really anxious as to how I could be lost and just what was happening when I suddenly heard voices, but could see no one. I walked in the direction of the voices and was then amazed to almost walk into a man and his son, who seemed to come from nowhere.

After pausing for a minute, I then realised where I was in the wood. To my amazement, I was hundreds of yards north and to the back of where I entered. I could not comprehend how I could have got to be there. Even more strange as I entered the wood I had glanced at my watch it was 10:15 a.m. Shortly after bumping into the man and his son, I looked again it was 10:17 a.m. Time had not moved whilst lost in the wood.
Blip in Time
by Glenn

This incident happened to me when I was a university student in Nova Scotia, Canada in about 1991. I decided to take the express bus to my home town one night to visit my parents for the weekend. I sat at the back of the bus and there was nobody around me, but there was a family sitting behind the driver in the front. The bus ride was uneventful until we came close to my parents home town.

I was looking out the window and I looked at the Michelin tire factory as we went by it going uphill. When the bus reached the top of the hill, I got a strange feeling and for some unknown reason I started to imagine many people on the bus laughing at me!

Right then there was a blip in reality and the bus was suddenly about a mile back on the highway! I then had the experience of watching the bus drive by the tire factory again! This kind of scared me and I noticed that the family sitting in the front, who were talking loudly before, were now dead quiet.

I approached the bus driver when we stopped and told him what I thought happened. He looked really nervous and he said something like, "Things like that happen." It was like a distortion in time and space.
Future City
by Daisy

Before my weird encounter, I was an extreme skeptic, but my friend, Rick, was what I would call a devoted believer in the supernatural.
It all began when Rick and I were going to a friend's house last September. We were driving Rick's beat up old truck (but he loved it anyway) and the drive went smoothly for the first 45 minutes.

Suddenly, the truck's engine died and Rick and I were stranded (to our knowledge) on a deserted highway in the middle of the night. We were surrounded on both sides of the road by cornfields that stretched into the distance. Rick began a desperate effort to restart the truck and fix the "broken" engine. He tried to fix the truck in vain, but nothing seemed to work. Rick finally gave up and we decided to walk to the nearest town about two miles away to find a payphone to call our friend.

We walked for what seemed like hours and the town was nowhere in sight. However, just when desperation was about to grip us, we saw a light, a gloriously bright light, shining over the steep hill ahead of us. We ran up the steep hill that blocked us from the light and were flabbergasted by what we saw.

Just over the hill, Rick and I saw what could only be described as a futuristic city with lights streaming out of every window of the massive, metallic towers. In the middle of the futuristic city, was a huge silver dome. I stared at the city, stunned, until Rick elbowed me, which pulled me out of my trance and he pointed to the sky. Hovering above the city were hundreds of hovercraft. One flew toward us with amazing speed. Rick and I were so scared that we took off running back to the broken down truck.

I never looked back, but I felt someone watching me the whole way. When we got back to the truck, it started without difficulty and Rick and I took off as fast as we could in the opposite direction. We never went back or spoke of it again to this day.
Car Wreck in Time

This happened to me in the summer of 1988. I was out of work at the time. The job service gave me a list of jobs to check on. I was in the area of Rutherfordton, North Carolina and I was lost, so I do not know the exact place where it happened.

I was driving down a dirt road, trying to find my way back to the paved road. Not even sure how or when I left the paved road. As I driving, the left side of the road opened up into this big overgrown field. The right side of the road was trees. About a hundred yards up from that point the road turned to the left. Just as I was about to make the turn left, I could see that a few hundred feet ahead the road turned back to the right.

At that point I saw a car come around the turn up ahead and it did not make the turn, but went into the field. I thought to myself, Some fool just wrecked a classic antique car. It was a 1940s-type car. Not sure of make or model. I raced to scene of the accident only not to see any car. I was like, "What the -- ?"

Then I saw the car! There it was, all rusted out and the tires long since rotted off. The car had been there for 30 or 40 years from the looks of it. But I had just seen it wreck not two minutes before!

I almost wrecked my own car getting out of there. After a few miles I found myself all of a sudden back on a paved road. I stopped and got out and looked back, wondering when the dirt turned back to pavement. I drove back down the road for about three miles, coming into a small town -- and the road never did turn back to the dirt road. My car was cover with dust from the dirt road that no longer existed. As to what happened that day I will never know.
Farmhouse Out of Time

This took place in August, 2013. I am a keen walker and love to explore with my dogs. I have a good sense of direction and I can wander around for hours quite happily.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to follow a sign for a public footpath quite close to Leeds Bradford airport, West Yorkshire, England. As I made my way along the path, it dropped down toward a rather large and old-fashioned farmhouse. As the path appeared to go through the garden, I called my dogs to me and bent down to attach their leads. As I was doing this, I got the feeling I was been watched. I stood up and turned around... nothing and nobody in sight.

Then I looked up to the top left window of the house, and there was a little boy. The boy was aged about nine or ten and was sitting sideways at the window on what must have been a window seat. He had his knees drawn up to his chin and his hands clasped around them. I felt really unsettled and hurried up the path a little way.

Then it struck me what was wrong with the little boy I had seen. He looked as if he was out of time, dressed in grey knee shorts, a white shirt with what looked like a grey tank top, and his hair was dark and so obviously a "pudding bowl" home cut. He looked straight out of the 1950s.

I was really unsettled because his sadness was overwhelming me. This was lunchtime on a lovely warm day, but I felt terribly sad and cold, so hurried away.

When I arrived home, I explained what happened to my husband. He came on the walk with me the next day. As we approached the house, I started to feel a little unsettled and instinctively looked toward the window. No little boy this time, but the house appeared to look different. Instead of the old farmhouse that I had seen the previous day, it was obviously a re-furbished version. The stonework looked clean and the windows fresh and new or newly painted. The drive way that had previously been a bit overgrown was now neatly covered in gravel with a new 4x4 and a sports car parked on it.

I am not given to flights of fancy, but I strongly believe that I have experienced some sort of momentary glimpse into the past of this house.
Missing Time in Hocking Hills

I am a 31 years of age and live in Pennsylvania at the time of this posting. I have read through several stories on Your True Tales and I wanted to share something that happened back in mid-September of 2008 with my best friend Ciera (pronounced Sierra) and me.

We went to a park named Hocking Hills in Ohio for a day retreat from our busy lives. We decided on this at random when we first got together early in the morning just after sunrise. It was a nice warm late summer day and we'd just got the wild notion to go for a drive to Hocking Hills since the area is well known for its several walking trails, a cave or two, and several waterfalls and creek areas. The day was very warm maybe roughly 70 degrees Fahrenheit / 21 degrees Celsius so we had worn shorts and short-sleeved T-shirts.

We started down a trail at random and found that part of the trail had been washed out, so we had to take another path which according to our phone's GPS app would force us to cross a small country road. As we played with our mobile phones and noted it was roughly 12:00 noon, we happened to be passed by a group of backpackers before we reached the road. One of the people turned around to warn us to be aware of a wash out up ahead if we were going to take the trail into the woods. They recommended we follow the one next to the fire tower instead, as it by-passed a small clump of downed brush.

As we crossed the road to the tower trail, we noticed there was caution tape all over the fire tower. There was a pungent smell in the air, which we could not identify. The windows on top of the tower appeared to be taped up, grimy, and there were flies all over the area. We walked past it, commenting how odd it was, and continued down the trail we had been recommend to take, but it was one neither of us had noticed before on a previous walk to the area. This trail took us past the fire tower and then cut into the woodlands.

As we walked into the forest maybe 1,500 feet or so, we took notice that no one seemed to be around and, in fact, not only did we feel isolated from others, but we felt very chilled without explanation. Ciera pointed it out verbally while I was thinking it, but we just continued walking.

Eventually, the air started to get noticeably chillier and damper. This did not seem unusual at first, but as we continued to walk the air seemed to go from warm to what felt like the mid-50s Fahrenheit and we started to shiver. It was also getting darker as we continued forward. At first I thought it was just due to the green leaves on the trees and maybe a passing cloud overhead, but the darkness really did not improve as one expected.

As we walked, we looked around and there were nothing but trees on all sides. There should have been a forest edge somewhere as the area wasn't really that big, but aside from some hills and tall pine trees, there wasn't a real ending to the woods like we expected, as the area tends to be narrow and normally we could see the edges.

My friend took out her phone to use her GPS because she instinctively felt lost, but her battery was nearly gone. I took mine out of my back pocket and it had no signal; the battery was also nearly dead, and showed "EE:EE" for the time (meaning it couldn't update as it was an older style flip-phone with camera and when set to auto-adjust would contact the mobile phone network every 15 min).

It was only then as the light grew dimmer that I noticed the area seemed very silent. Our footsteps, the leaves we stepped on, grass, twigs, and our breathing just echoed. Ciera got spooked and I did, too. She mentioned it was very out of the ordinary and I agreed, but I couldn't shake this sense of foreboding that something was amiss. I tried to rationalize it, but I really, honestly, couldn't figure any of it out at all.

We just pressed onward, and after going down a small hill and back up, it seemed to have gotten a lot darker. The world seemed to have gone from just shadowy to near twilight darkness. My friend grabbed my arm and started freaking out about how weird it got - then the air seemed to have gone still and we had a feeling of something wrong.

We both took off running, looking for an exit. For some odd reason we never thought to turn around at all and just go back the way we came. It never seemed to occur to us as we ran, but the spookiness continued as we could hear our steps echo off the area as things just felt like they grew more gloomy.

Then ahead of us down another small dip in the trail we could see two large honeysuckle bushes on either side of the trail, like a gate. We made a mad dash for these bushes, and just as we pushed through the plants something odd happened: we were overwhelmed by a change in our surroundings as light, sound, and warmth returned all at once. It was like stepping outside of a cold, empty, and dark building to a warm busy street. We stood at the edge of a place known as Ash Cave, which has a large waterfall not too far away with a u-shaped cliff.

I turned around to look back from where we emerged, and while the bushes were the same, the area was so different, brighter, not silent for sure, and warm. In fact our skin was cold to touch, which just reinforced the facts. We took out our phones and the time had finally updated. It was now 4 p.m. The normal trail would only have taken an hour to walk fully, so it was a loss of three full hours!

Logic attempted to set in and we decided the trail we came up must have just appeared creepy because there may have been clouds overhead or a storm blew by, but when we went back between the bushes there was no trail. Nothing looked like it had a few seconds ago. Ciera walked around the bushes twice and it was the same bright sunny day with no darkness and no trail. We waited... it was blue sky overhead and we could see the edges of the forest and other people. The trail had simply vanished as it we had never walked it.

On returning to the normal trail with the washout, we ended up locating an offshoot path which took us back past the fire tower. It was here we noticed it was normal looking as the windows were not taped and very clean, and there was no pungent smell.

We don't know what it was, but it certainly was creepy. Of course, I jokingly told her later that day over dinner we had entered the faerie realms by mistake and were lucky to get away. She didn't find that funny, of course, but either way we both felt we should share this with you, and if anyone out there has had a similar experience, perhaps they can provide insight or share their own.
Super Exhaustion or Missing Time?

I had a case of what could be called "missing time." My experience occured at McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey (my dad was in the military,) in 1992 around the spring months.

When I was in high school, I was practically obsessed with exercise. I would work out at home before school, at school during gym class, and when I got home I'd work out again. Working out so fanatically tends to make one tired.

One day after school, I noticed that I was extremely tired - more so than usual. I was so tired, in fact, that I didn't do my homework or even eat dinner when I got home. I went straight to bed.

I got into my night apparel, turned out my bedroom light, and climbed into bed. As soon as I closed my eyes, the light turned on and I heard my mother's voice telling me that it was time to get up for school. I immediately thought she was joking. But I glanced at my clock and it was indeed morning and time for me to get ready for school.

I had no recollection of sleeping, and I felt like crying because I was so tired. I'd like to make it clear that as soon as my eyes shut, my mother flicked on the light switch. There was no discernable lapse in time from the moment my eyes closed to my bedroom light being turned on. Not to mention that if I was so tired, why wasn't it harder for my mom to wake me?

I should have been able to sleep though Armageddon, seeing as how I was so worn out. To this day, I haven't been able to explain this experience. Needless to say, I had a horribly unproductive day at school, being so fatigued.
Road Vortex

My true story took place in October, 2010. My husband just had triple bypass surgery, and after being discharged from the hospital, he spent the next ten days in a facility for cardiac rehab. The facility is situated on a lonely country road in Berkshire County, Massachusetts.

One night when I left the facility, it was already dark, so I took the main route back instead of the shortcut, because I don't like to travel those dark roads alone. I passed Williams College, the Willlows Motel, Subway, and all the local businesses on this route, and was just crossing into the city of North Adams, when it seemed like everything went black. The bright lights of the town had vanished, but I very quickly realized that the road had narrowed considerably and had become winding instead of straight.

Suddenly, I was crossing a tiny bridge and realized that I was not where I should be at all -- and I had no explanation for it. One minute I was traveling on the main route which I have traveled all of my life and know it well; the next minute I was on a narrow country road with not a clue as to why I was there or how I got there.

This happened in the blink of an eye. I began talking to myself out loud, saying things like, "What the hell is going on, and where the hell am I?" I repeated these questions out loud over and over, with my heart pounding, and nothing making sense to me, but I kept driving because I was too frightened to do anything else.

When I got to the end of whatever lonely, narrow, winding road I was on, I looked up and saw a street sign. It said, "Gale Rd." and I now realized that I was going to come out almost back where I had started from, except that the road I was on would come out at the shortcut that I didn't take that night, because it was too late and too dark out. Now I had no choice.

I drove the shortcut route and ended up back in the center of Williamstown. I had to once again pass by Wiliams College, the Willows Motel, Subway, etc., then to North Adams. None of this makes sense to me but it did happen.

Also, when I reached my destination (my home in Adams, Mass.), it hadn't taken me any longer to get there than any other time. My husband said he would call me in a half hour. He knows that it takes 25 minutes to get home and I was home when he called.

It should have taken nearly double the amount of time to get home since it appears that I drove both routes home that night, one after the other. I don't know what happened to me that night.

All I know is that in the blink of an eye, I was approximately five miles back where I started from on a road that I know I never would have taken on a dark night. I will never drive alone at night again. It's only been a few days, and the thought sends shivers down my spine.
A Thriftstore on the Edge of Forever

When I was about ten years old in 1966, my family temporarily stayed with my grandma in downtown Long Beach, California. Mom took us four kids to a HUGE Goodwill store about seven blocks from the beach. We kids were told the toys were upstairs, so that's where I went. Upstairs, there were huge windows, which of course don't open. You could look down on the street far below. I went over to one of the large windows.

However, when I got to there, it was no longer a window, it was a door that I could walk through (if I dared) when I would have fallen to my death if it weren't for this "paranormal opening." The street kind of looked like the street yet it was level, I could have walked straight out that window onto the sidewalk. The people out there looked normal, yet seemed to be dressed in odd, possibly old fashioned clothes and the cars were different then what I was accustomed to seeing.

I very much wanted to walk out there, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to walk back in to where I was, so I didn't. I wonder now, if others have walked into these holes/openings and if so, are they stuck there, somewhere other than their own place or origin? My guess would be yes, because if they didn't come back soon, the hole would be gone.

If what I saw was another period/era (which I'm not certain of, I think it would have been the past.) I now wonder if others in the future (at a time when they will finally know how these things work) come here and go back, and/or are here but not from a time where they would know how to get back to their own time or dimension, whatever, so happen to be stuck here, and if they were a child like me would they tell someone?

If an adult, would they say they had amnesia so as not to be placed in a mental hospital? Anyhow, I buried the thoughts of that day, I mean really, who would've believed me?

Fast forward twenty some odd years. R___ (my older sister) came to visit, bringing N___ (her son, my nephew) and N___ brought a friend of his from their hometown Salinas, Calif. They came to spend a few days at our beach house in Laguna Beach.

We were up talking late into the night after all the others were fast asleep. We started sharing our life stories and such. After becoming comfortable I asked my sister,"Do you remember when we were staying with grandma downtown Long Beach?" The rest of the conversation went like this:

"Yes," my sister replied; she remembered the visit.

"Do you remember that giant two story Goodwill store mom used to take us to downtown," I asked.


"Well... you probably won't believe this, but when I went upstairs.... "

"I know what you're going to say!"


"You went to the window and saw nothing but a giant black hole outside of it!"

I replied, "Oh, my God! No, I saw the street at my own level and I think it was a different time, like a parallel dimension of the exact same spot/place, except at the higher level than it should have been because I was upstairs. I could have walked right out that window, and I contemplated it, but was afraid if I did I wouldn't be able to walk back in!"

When my sister R___ told me of her similar oddity about that day, I was dumbfounded! I knew what I had experienced but as a person grows up you try and tell yourself it wasn't true, maybe you were hallucinating, even though you KNOW what you experienced, just trying to make sense of it. It's put out of your mind, and life goes on.

I thought possibly R___ being a year and nine months older than me, might have stopped her from seeing "more" as I had, due to how our minds continue to conform to the realities that are the norm and our teachings from culture, parents, teachers and so on.

I posted this experience of mine on a forum; someone said that they had read that these cracks/holes or whatever they are, open and close. Therefore, I probably saw it when it was completely open, and R___ probably saw it when it was in the process of opening or closing.

It happened. I believe I will always ponder and read up on this subject and the subject matters that may relate to it.
Flight into he future

In 1935, Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard of the British Royal Air Force had a harrowing experience in his Hawker Hart biplane. Goddard was a Wing Commander at the time and while on a flight from Edinburgh, Scotland to his home base in Andover, England, he decided to fly over an abandoned airfield at Drem, not far from Edinburgh. The useless airfield was overgrown with foliage, the hangars were falling apart and cows grazed where planes were once parked. Goddard then continued his flight to Andover, but encountered a bizarre storm. In the high winds of the storm's strange brown-yellow clouds, he lost control of his plane, which began to spiral toward the ground. Narrowly averting a crash, Goddard found that his plane was heading back toward Drem. As he approached the old airfield, the storm suddenly vanished and Goddard's plane was now flying in brilliant sunshine. This time, as he flew over the Drem airfield, it looked completely different. The hangars looked like new. There were four airplanes on the ground: three were familiar biplanes, but painted in an unfamiliar yellow; the fourth was a monoplane, which the RAF had none of in 1935. The mechanics were dressed in blue overalls, which Goddard thought odd since all RAF mechanics dressed in brown overalls. Strange, too, that none of the mechanics seemed to notice him fly over. Leaving the area, he again encountered the storm, but managed to make his way back to Andover. It wasn't until 1939 that that the RAF began to paint their planes yellow, enlisted a monoplane of the type that Goddard saw, and the mechanics uniforms were switched to blue. Had Goddard somehow flown four years into the future, then returned to his own time?
Time traveller

I take pleasure in sharing with you the following occurrence because I personally interviewed one of the parties involved, and have repeatedly gone over the incident with him these past six years. L.C. (his real initials) has been my friend for fifteen years, but as we visited together one day about six years ago, he told me of this most amazing event in his life which haunts him to this day.
L.C. and a business associate, Charlie, (fictitious name) had just finished lunch in the small Southwest Louisiana town of Abbeville. Still discussing their work, they began their drive north along Highway 167 towards the Oil Center city of Lafayette about 15 miles away. The date was October 20, 1969, and the time was about 1:30 in the afternoon. It was one of those picture-perfect days in Fall--clear blue skies and a nippy 60 degrees, just right conditions for cruising along with the car windows rolled down.

The highway had been practically traffic-free until they spotted some distance ahead what appeared to be an old turtle-back-type auto traveling very slowly. As they closed the distance between their vehicle and this relic from the past, their discussion turned from their insurance work to the old car ahead of them. While the style of the auto indicated it to be decades old, it appeared to be in show room condition, which evoked words of admiration from both L.C. and Charlie. Because the car was traveling so slowly, the two men decided to pass it, but before doing so, slowed to better appreciate the beauty and mint condition of the vehicle. As they did so, L.C. noticed a very large bright orange license plate with the year "1940" clearly printed on it. This was most unusual and probably illegal unless provisions had been made for the antique car to be used in ceremonial parades.

As they passed the car slowly to its left, L.C., who was in the passenger's seat, noticed the driver of the car was a young woman dressed in what appeared to be 1940 vintage clothing. This was 1969 and a young woman wearing a hat complete with a long colored feather and a fur coat was, to say the least, a bit unusual. A small child stood on the seat next to her, possibly a little girl. The gender of the child was hard to determine as it too wore a heavy coat and cap. The windows of her car were rolled up, a fact which puzzled L.C. because, though the temperature was nippy, it was quite pleasant and a light sweater was sufficient to keep you comfortable. As they pulled up next to the car, their study turned to alarm as their attention was riveted to the animated expressions of fear and panic on the woman's face. Driving alongside of her at a near crawl (no traffic in either direction allowed this maneuvering) they could see her frantically looking back and forth as if lost or in need of help. She appeared on the verge of tears.

Being on the passenger's side, L.C. called out to her and asked if she needed help. To this she nodded "yes," all the while looking down (old cars sat a little higher than the low profiles of today's cars) with a very puzzled look at their vehicle. L.C. motioned to her to pull over and park on the side of the road. He had to repeat the request several times with hand signs and mouthing the words because her window was rolled up and it seemed she had difficulty hearing them. They saw her begin to pull over so they continued to pass her so as to safely pull over also in front of her. As they came to a halt on the shoulder of the road, L.C. and Charlie turned to look at the old car behind them. However, to their astonishment, there was no sign of the car. Remember, this was on an open highway with no side roads nearby, no place to hide a car. It and its occupants had simply vanished.

L.C. and Charlie looked back at the empty highway. As they sat in the car, spellbound and bewildered, it was obvious to them that a search would prove futile. Meanwhile, the driver of a vehicle that had been behind the old car pulled over behind them. He ran to L.C. and Charlie and frantically demanded an explanation as to what had become of the car ahead of him. His account was as follows. He was driving North on Highway 167 when he saw, some distance away, a new car passing up a very old car at a slow pace, so slow that they appeared to be nearly stopped. He saw the new car pull onto the shoulder and the old car started to do the same. Momentarily, it obstructed the new car and then suddenly disappeared. All that remained ahead of him was the new car on the shoulder of the highway. Desperate to associate logic to this incredible sight, he immediately assumed an accident had occurred. Indeed, an accident had not occurred, but something more haunting, perhaps as tragic, and certainly more mysterious had.

After discussing what each had seen from his perspective, the three men walked the area for an hour. The third man, who was from out of state, insisted on reporting the incident to the police. He felt that it was a "missing person" situation and that they had been witnesses. L.C. and Charlie refused to do so as they had no idea where the woman and child along with the car had gone. They were missing alright, but no police on this plane of existence had the power to find them. The third man finally decided that without their cooperation he could not report this on his own for fear his sanity would be questioned. He did exchange addresses and phone numbers with L.C. and Charlie. For years he kept in touch with them, calling just to talk about his incident and to confirm again that he had seen what he had.

High strangeness points to ponder over: what if--she was from the past, and went forward in time, and she is now an old lady still living today, and what if on that same day it had been her instead of L.C. and Charlie behind the "old car," that same now old lady would have met herself. What if--the Earth itself has a super mentality and it creates as a cosmic joke all these anomalies of life on its surface just for its amusement or some other esoteric reason. What if--and this is the final and most depressing of the "what ifs"--she had come from the past, popped into the future and did not return to her past. The newspapers of 1940 would puzzle over a disappeance of a mother and her child one cold October day, foul play suspected, the search continues--while she and the child continue traveling in and out of various time zones forever.
Lost Time
by Michael D.

My assistant manager today spent 45 minutes portraying a paranormal experience that happened to him around a month ago (Jan 2004), which I shall now unfold. My assistant manager isn't the most serious of people, ever really. He constantly keeps lookout while members of the warehouse take it in turns to sit on a large compacted square of cardboard and ride it down a steep ramp. But the story he told me today was told in as much seriousness as he's ever told anything...

He was out mountainbiking with a friend around Amington, something which he'd done a few days previously and arrived home at around 1:00 a.m. after a flat tire. His friend didn't want this to happen again as he was in work at 6 the following day and had to be up by 4 in the morning. So he came round fairly early, around 6:30 and they both went out. Biking around five minutes from his house, he reached the Amington bridge and he had to get off; he couldn't cycle up the hill because he was fat, he said (and he is). But his friend is quite fit, and he too had to get off.

As they arrived over the bridge he said to his mate, "I've lost my gloves." Now these are motorbiking gloves, costing £80 for the pair, so understandably he didn't want to give them up without a fight, but he says he carried on riding with his friend anyway. He tells me he was so caught up by the fact he'd lost these gloves that he didn't think to look about himself for them. He carried on for another five minutes until he reached the co-op to get some cigarettes.

After coming out of the co-op, he said to his friend, "I've lost a glove," only having one on. This time they both searched the car park and retraced their steps to find the missing glove, but to no avail. He then retraced back to the Amington bridge where he first said he'd lost his gloves, but couldn't find them. They then both went back to the co-op and saw the glove - laying face up right in the middle of the car-park, in the floodlit area no-less. Impossible to miss for someone looking for it, he said. He thought not much of it really and carried on back home.

Arriving in his house, he saw the clock and it read 12:55 in the morning! He says he couldn't believe this. The first thing he did was go out of the house and look up the road to see if the chip shop was open, but it was in darkness, so it must have been after 11, he reasoned; still too long. The telly was showing crap, so it must have been late. His wife was in bed and all clocks read the same. He simply could not account for the time he had lost. His search, he said, must have taken no longer than half an hour, yet he arrived home around six hours after he left! At most the whole journey would have taken an hour, since he was not biking far at all. He could of, in fact, walked the bike ride in 10 minutes.

Two days later, his friend rang and siad he had experienced the same loss of time. What was odd, his friend said, was that my assistant manager, Jim, had thought about his lost glove before he lost it. On the bridge he had said, "I've lost my gloves," but was so distraught about it he didn't even think to check his hands. His friend said he saw the gloves on his hand, and thought he was just messing about and, quite frankly, didn't care. But then he actually did lose his gloves later. His explanation for this was that maybe he put one glove in his pocket to buy the cigarettes, then cycling off, it fell out.

The thing that struck him most is the journey back to the bridge, to the co-op, then back to the bridge again looking for the glove, saying it was almost as if something had forced him to do this, a higher power over him.
Lost Time
by Douglas

This story takes place in Austintown, Ohio on Route 76 back in 1981. I was 20. Dad asked me if I wanted to look at a house that was for rent. The next morning we went to his mom's house at 5:00 for some coffee. She asked what we were doing out so early. Dad told her that we were meeting a realtor at at 6:00. At 5:30, we left getting to the house a couple minutes before 6.

As we pulled in the drive, we noticed the yard had not been cared for. The house was a rectangular two-story dwelling with front windows only on the second floor. As we got out of the van, it was a quiet, calm day except for two kids laughing in the back yard. We figured it was the neighbor kids from across the street. As we approached the back of the house, there was a swing set with two swings. They were swinging in opposite directions with nobody on them. There was laughter of a boy and a girl. Another quick glance and the swings were still. Dad asked if I had seen that. I had.

We proceeded back to the side of the house. We passed the garage. It had two wooden doors with small glass panes. We looked in the window. The garage had a dirt floor and was empty. We walked up to the side porch. The door was unlocked so we went inside.
Dad turned on the switch, but no lights came on. I tried a few with no luck. The inside of the house was weird. There was a large room with doorways branching off. The living room was like none I had ever seen. It was about 10x40 with no windows except for the small one in the door. I went back into where dad was. He was trying to open the basement door, which was locked. Dad asked if I was ready to go. Instead of leaving, he went into the living room and stared out the front door window for about three or four minutes. I was about to go upstairs when I got an eerie feeling. So, I stayed in the main area.

Dad then came out and asked if I was ready to go again. At that point, dad made the remark that we hadn't tried that door. We had. It was the locked basement door. He turned the knob and the door opened. The hair on the back of my kneck stood up. Now I was getting scared. Dad flipped the light switch and it came on. I was wondering why the other lights didn't come on earlier. Dad proceeded to go down the steps, but I was leary. I went down. The basement was small. There was an old wringer washer with a loaded revolver on the lid. It was like the silver and ivory-handled cap guns that kids use today. I picked it up four inches off the lid and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light cord moving. The lights went out and the door slammed shut. It was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. I felt aimlessly for my dad. Holding his shirt, we went up the stairs. At the top, he stopped and let out a blood-curdling scream. It made my blood run cold. I pushed him and he pushed the door open. All the lights were on and it was dark outside.

After jumping in the van, dad turned the headlights on. The garage doors were open. There was a lamb lying on the dirt floor with its throat slashed, jerking violently. Blood was running into the dirt.

When we arrived back at my grandmother's, it was 2:30 a.m. She asked where we had been all day. We had lost 21 hours in five minutes time in the basement. Later, we drove past the house and all the doors were shut and the lights were out. When I would ask dad about what he had seen, he would cuddle in the corner and shake like a kid crying. To this day, I don't know what he saw and I don't want to know. Since he has passed away, I will never know.

When I went back in 1987, to see if the house was still there, it was boarded up. There was a large FBI sign on the house stating that for your own safety, stay out. I'm going back in July, 2004 to see if the house is still there.
Slip Back in Time
by Mr. Torrence

It all started back in 1999 when I was 19, I had an experience that I can't explain that freaks me out to this day.

My girlfriend and I went up to Poughkeepsie, New York on a trip to visit her sick uncle, a man nick-named Floyd due to his profession as a barber (Mayberry reference) although he also was an avid biker. He had lupus and about a thousand other ailments, it seemed.

He lived on a large tract of land that included nature trails that seemed to go back for miles on up into the woods. One morning after breakfast, Cindi (my ex now) and I decided after breakfast to head out to a location that she remembered going to when she was a kid visiting. She called it the big Indian rock, which she said looked like a profile of an Indian chief.

So at around 10:30 or 11:00 or so, we headed up there. It was a long way up into the woods, but Cindi, after getting some directions, seemed really confident, having not been there in years. But after a while, I was almost sure she was lost, but she saw something that she recognized and headed off into that direction. It was this large white rock with a fort into the side of it like a kids' fort or something. Her exact words were, "Oh my god, I remember this place..." and then began to tell me how she and her friends, a bunch of boys who lived nearby, had built this one afternoon and was totally surprised to see it after all this time.

This was at least 10 years later and this poorly constructed fort was still there, which I thought fascinating too at the time. The fort consisted of a low lean-to almost like a box made of rotted plywood scraps. It sat to the side of the huge white rock and had a bundle of dirty camping gear inside of it, sleeping bags and other dirty junk and leaves, cobwebs, etc. Cindi went up to the entrance of the low-to-the-ground fort and looked in at it as I jumped up on the top of the white rock to have a seat.

I looked over to where Cindi was and she had disappeared from view. At first I thought she maybe crawled inside, but on more careful observation, this wasn't the case at all. I turned to see whether perhaps she had gone around the other side of the huge rock and when I turned I saw two little freckle-faced boys, one taller than the other and staring at me. One wore a ball cap on backward and the other in a dirty flannel jacket. They just stared at me eerily and then suddenly It just seemed like time slipped and suddenly I was walking up a wooded path towards a clearing, and there was Cindi telling me to hurry up and come on.

I stepped into the clearing and there was a side of a big rock with, yes a profile of a face or something, really quite unimpressive, but I suppose it had sentimental value with her. I was still in a daze but I just snapped to and met up with her.

My first question to her was who were those two boys and no doubt she responded, "What are you talking about? What boys?" I said "At the rock..." she just punched me in the arm and began to point out the face in the rocks and then told me how she was a tom-boy and used to ride BMX bikes back there and other such memory lane kinds of stuff.

After a few minutes we headed back to Floyd's place and we were greeted by Cindi's mother who had just arrived. I met her mother and she seemed nice and hung out at Floyd's and had a few beers with him, even though he complained that it didn't mix well with his medication.

So after a while, Cindi came in and we all got to talking and the fort came up and she asked about some kids she knew in the area and if they were still around or whatever happened to, yada, yada kind of thing. Floyd got real dark when Cindi mentioned the "Moriarty" kids and went into a morose story and got rather quiet.

He said to Cindi, "The two boys and their mother were killed by their father before he took his own life." (Having something to do with a divorce.)

When I heard this, my hair on the nape of my neck stood up as my spine tingled as I was not going to spend another night out there at Floyd's place. He went on to comfort her, telling her that they were in a better place, etc. I couldn't dare recount what happened to me at the fort. I just wanted to split out of there; this was too freaky.

I made up a story after calling my roommate back in Bayonne, telling them that I had to get back there and asked Cindi if she wanted to stay but she decided to come with me. While driving back, Cindi kept the two boys as a topic and said that they both had a crush on her. And once even fought over her, and man, that just made me drive faster. We made record time back to Jersey.
A Brief Leap in Time
by Sue

In Fall of 1994, my boyfriend and I were on our way home in Fallbrook, California. There are two roads into Fallbrook, from the north and from the south. We approached from the south heading north on Mission Rd., which is a four-mile, curvy two-lane road. It was a Friday evening and was 6:24 pm. I was driving, and had finally blurted out how weird it was that we hadn't passed any cars in the opposite direction since our turn onto Mission Rd.

Fallbrook is a small town, but this was a very well traveled road, even on Tuesday at 10:30 p.m. you'd be passing cars leaving town! Anyway, I knew it was 6:24 because I had just looked at the big amber display on the stereo when all of a sudden the car died, pedal went hard, lights went off, and I remember feeling confused, and thinking that we ran out of gas, yet knowing that we had plenty of fuel. We coasted off to a dirt turnout immediately ahead. Jim asked what happened and I had no answer, but I felt like I had just dozed off or had gone through Jello or... I don't know what.

I put it in gear, Jim jumped out, came around to my side and opened the door. I jumped into the passenger seat, he got in, cranked it over and – vroooom! – off we went. As we pulled away I felt irritated, a little nervous, but sure something really weird had just happened. Then I glanced at the clock on the stereo again, It was 6:36 p.m. 12 minutes had passed when, being generous, the whole incident couldn't have taken more than 1-1/2 minutes, max. So what's up with that?