Walter PattersonMy grandsons love for me to tell them ghost stories.
When I could no longer remember any ghost stories that I had read about in a book or magazine, I began to make them up.
Unfortunately, they seemed to like these more than the “store bought” variety. Almost every afternoon after school, one of them insisted on a ghost story.
“When I was a little boy,” I would begin, “my brother and I went to play in the cemetery. We played for a couple of hours, and since it was warm, I pulled my new watch off and placed it on a tombstone. We played until the sun began to set, then we had to go home for supper. Bedtime came, and we went to bed. Since we were very tired, we fell asleep immediately.
“Sometime in the early morning, I was awakened by a loud clap of thunder. I looked at my wrist and remembered that I had left my watch in the cemetery. I slipped out of bed, put my clothes on, carefully opened the front door so that mom and dad would not hear me leave, and then sprinted toward the cemetery. Lighting flashed across the sky and the thunder was so loud that it shook the ground. Large drops of rain were beginning to hit me in the face. I was scared. When the lightening flashed, I could see strange figures behind every tree.
“When I arrived at the cemetery, I ran as quickly as I could to the spot where I had placed the watch. Sure enough, it was still there. Just as I placed it on my wrist, the grave opened up and a man dressed in an old hat and tattered clothes stepped out. His skin was pale, and his eyes were a blood red.
“I was so frightened that I couldn’t move. What was he going to do to me? Finally, he spoke. ‘What are you doing in my grave yard?’ he asked.
‘Getting my watch, sir,’ I replied with a trembling voice.
‘You must come with me,’ the old man said. ‘You can never go home again.’
“I knew that I was in trouble, but I remembered what my dad had told me. ‘Ghosts can’t leave the cemetery,’ he advised.
“I turned and sprinted toward the road. If I could make it, then I would be safe. I could feel the old man bearing down on me. At the last minute, I dived across the road, just out of reach of the ghost. As I ran toward home, I heard the old ghost shout, ‘If you ever come back, I’ll take you with me, and your mom and dad will never know what happened to you.’ I ran as fast as I could all the way home, climbed into bed, and never told my dad or mom what had happened.”
If you believed any part of this story, let me give you another one.
The unemployment rate has dropped to 8.9 percent for the month of February. If you believe the Obama administration and the Democrat Party, you believe this nonsense. The election cycle is quickly approaching, and Mr. Obama must, by hook or crook, get the unemployment rate below 8 percent. No president, with the exception of FDR, has been re- elected when the unemployment rate is at or above 8 percent. You can pull the money out of your savings account and bet it all that the unemployment rate, by the time election day comes, will be below 8 percent. Remember the old saying, “Liars figure, and figures lie.”
Gallop published its numbers for the month of February on March 3. Gallop reported that the real unemployment rate is 10.3 percent and the underemployed and the unemployed combined rate is 19.9 percent. “Underemployment is now higher than it was at this point a year ago when it was 19.7 percent,” the report states.
Nothing is real about this administration. If you believe anything that the Democrat Party and the Obama administration are putting forward, I have a few more ghost stories that might interest you.