Two Minutes Alone

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In anticipation of Halloween we'd like to post your writings on traditions, ghostly encounters, spine-tingling tales or whatever else you can come up with!  Please send your posts to fourperspectivesblog at gmail.com.  Here's a great segue into our new topic from Marci. 

GUEST POST: MARCI

     Back in 1974 I was in the chorus of my first high school musical.  The play was called, "The Red Head." What's ironic is that it's a rare murder mystery musical about a nice girl named Essie and a cold blooded killer.  My good friend was the lead, and we were just sophomores.  She didn't have red hair, but she had a cute red wig that looked great on her.

     On the night of November 8th, I was getting ready to go on stage.  I was alone out in the hall next to the girls dressing room.  I had been told that the very popular Mr. Burningham from Bountiful High drama department, may be watching our play.  While I was dancing and singing in the hall, out came a handsome man dressed in a dark navy suit with dark wavy hair from the auditorium.  I thought to myself, maybe that could be Mr. Burningham. The handsome man started looking around not paying any attention to me.  He looked as if he were looking for someone and walked right past me to get a drink of water at the nearby drinking fountain.  The odd thing was I was the only one out in the hall.  He kept looking down other halls even though no one was around.  I didn't feel uncomfortable, in-fact I was hoping he was paying attention to my singing so I could be in one of his Bountiful Community plays.
I finally went back to the dressing room to tell my friend that I thought Mr. Burningham was out looking around for someone.  When I described what the man looked like, my friend said that wasn't Mr. Burningham.

      The play was a success and everyone went home to sleep.  Everyone that is except for  seventeen year-old Debra Kent.  She had come to watch the play and never made it back home.  I didn't find out about it until I attended my modern dance class the next day. Debra was supposed to be in my dance class but was not there.   One of the girls had told me that she may have been kidnapped the night before.

     The next thing I knew, two police officers came and got me out of class and took me to the principals office.  They asked me questions about the man I saw out in the hall during the play.  Apparently, this same man tried to get my dance teacher, who was watching the play, to go outside and hold a flashlight  for him while he fixed his flat tire.  She told him no.

    A police artist came into the principals office and asked my dance teacher and I to describe in detail what the dark haired man in the dark suit looked like.  I must have been there for a few hours.
Everyone felt really sad for the Kent family.  Debra Kent was never found and it wasn't until years later that I got a good look at the man with dark wavy hair.  He was on national television and his name was Ted Bundy.  He was on trial for murdering several young women in Florida.  I recognized him right away.  I felt a little sick inside and was glad that he had been caught.

    I think to myself, "Why didn't he come after me?"  It may have been because I was in costume and was making a fool of myself.  Or, maybe, it just wasn't my time to go. In any case, my two minutes alone with Ted Bundy were quite enough.