On a night when the old ghost hunters bus tour stopped at Sandy Beach for a bathroom break we noticed a truck driving on the sands very slowly as it headed straight toward the water. The driver was a young local boy who quickly exited the vehicle in tears. He was begging and pleading as he called out for someone to come back. There was no one anywhere near him, he was talking to the air.
“Come back,” he cried. “Don’t leave me, I love you, I need you,”
We figured that he was drunk or high or both or perhaps heavily medicated. Whatever the circumstance may have been, he was convinced that someone was there. We ourselves had no choice but to share his conviction when he suddenly levitated into the air and flew into the side of his truck. His body hit the sand with a thud and he was out cold. A second later, a wind whipped up and formed a small tornado that wildly spun out toward the dark ocean and disappeared into the night. We were too afraid to do anything so we called the police. The young man came to his senses and got up on his own two feet, his legs were shaking as he leaned himself up against the door of his vehicle. All he did was cry; even at the distance from where we were standing, we could see the expression on his face.He was truly heartbroken.
I drove by early the next morning and saw that the truck was nearly swallowed up by the ocean. However, the young man who owned the truck was nowhere to be seen.
I never found out the reason for the strange incident that we’d witnessed the night before, but I never forgot it.
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