There’s something comforting about dirt roads, corn fields that stretch for miles, the chirping of crickets, dense woods that give way to small creeks, where children fish from dusk to dawn during the summer. Also, it wasn’t uncommon that your whole neighborhood leaves the door on their front porch unlocked; because who would ever question the intentions of the families that welcomed you into their homes for a homecooked meal every sunday after church?
I can remember fall of 1956 vividly, but not for the reasons you may think. I just turned thirteen years old at the end of the summer and I was the odd girl out in my 4th grade class at Roosevelt Middle School. My family had moved just a few months prior from Lyndonville, Indiana all the way to rural Manning, South Carolina. We left Lyndonville in short notice once my dad received the news that he got a job as a fourth grade school teacher at Manning Elementary School. The adjustment was surprisingly easy for me, I quickly made friends with the girls who lived a few houses down from me, Patricia Lawson and Catherine Christensen. They were what some would call “outcasts” just like me; they weren’t like the other girls in town. We were all tomboys who liked to ride our bikes, build forts from extra plywood laying around in the neighborhood, and scramble up the numerous oak trees in our neighborhood; which left us with countless holes in our blue jeans and scars running up our legs. All of us were always defying our parents rules and  pushing their limits whenever we got the chance. Even though I enjoyed living in Manning and everyone was extremely welcoming, there was nothing that could prepare me for the event that would occur one November evening.
November 23rd, 1956 right around 8:30, it was a Saturday night just like any other, but instead of the usual sleepover at my house, we decided to do something spontaneous. Catherine was adamant that we make our way down to the old abandoned lumber mill to collect any material that we could find in order to complete the crude fort sitting in my backyard. I don’t remember the words that were exchanged between the three of us, but I do remember the chill that ran up my spine as soon as I unlatched my window that evening and took the first step onto my roof. Even though I knew what I was doing was wrong, I couldn’t fight the feeling of uncertainty that was leading me towards the mill.
Catherine, Patricia, and I trudged our way through the woods, making sure not to snap any branches or get mud caked onto the bottom of our shoes. The light from the moon, as well as that of our flashlight, helped guide us until the trees gave way and opened up to a clearing. The lumber mill was ominous, dilapidated, and looked to be completely abandoned; the structure was completely elevated on stilts and the small river beneath was moving at a sluggish pace.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Catherine’s silhouette dart towards the entrance of the mill.
“Catherine, are you crazy! Wait for us!” I cried as Patricia and I sprinted after her.
We entered through the threshold and I was immediately paralyzed with fear. Colossal saws, assembly lines that held pieces of lumber, and the ceiling, which was supported by hundreds of beams that seemed to be at least 200 feet high. Patricia and I flipped on your flashlights and started to ascend the frail wooden steps that led us to the unknown. Cobwebs, the overpowering scent of sawdust, and the eerie sounds of all different creatures that lived within the mill created a heightened sense of anxiety inside me. I knew that this was a terrible idea. Where could she have possibly ran off to?  As we were taking every reluctant step up, without warning, we heard a succession of gunshots. Patricia and I nearly leapt out of our skin and ran back the way we came from until we were a comfortable distance away from the mill, completely disregarding the fact that we left our best friend, all alone inside to fend for herself. Were we really supposed to go back and risk our lives to save Catherine? But how could we just leave her? One choice is all it took.