There is one particular evening that will stand out in Carolyn’s mind forever. The evening when her husband was rounding a curve on a rural highway, with her in the passenger seat, and a disaster happened.

It was late, the night was indelible-ink black, and there was a large deer standing in the headlights, wearing that look of bewilderment on its face. Her husband’s reflexes kicked in and he jerked the wheel.

Bad idea.

The car lost traction and plunged through the flimsy guardrail, tearing down the steep embankment. The next thing Carolyn remembers is awaking upside down in her seat, suspended by a seatbelt, half conscious. Then she heard someone say her name.

“Carolyn.”

At first she thought it was her husband speaking. But when she opened her eyes she saw that he was unconscious.

And still, she kept hearing her name.

“Carolyn. Wake up.”

She turned to see a young man staring at her from behind the passenger window. He had scraggly facial hair, a plaid shirt, and a kind face.

“Come with me, Carolyn,” the young man

said.

Then he lifted Carolyn and her husband out of the car and carried them both.

She doesn’t remember much after that except that, after a few minutes, she and her husband were both safely propped against a tree, waiting for ambulances, and the young man vanished.

The first responders asked Carolyn all the usual questions. Then they asked how she managed to muscle her heavy husband out of the vehicle. She told them it was the young man.

They looked at her like she was one short thigh short of a blue plate special.

“Ma’am, there’s nobody on this highway,” they said.

Here’s another one I heard. This story came to me from a young man who I’ll call Jeremy, from Kansas.

Jeremy was babysitting his infant daughter one night while his wife was away at work. Jeremy had…