Wiley Park Revisited

     After VJ Day, Bill Palmer and I decided it was time to get married. Years of being apart because of the war made us want to make up for lost time. We were deeply in love. We were high school sweethearts and had grown up together in Olmstead. Bill worked for his father at the filling station and I was a cashier at Crandall Foods. We tied the knot at Grace Baptist Church on August 25th, 1945. It was a small ceremony, our parents and a few friends. It was a beautiful day, with just a hint of Autumn in the air. I was so happy, looking into his brown eyes and his mop of tangled blonde hair. We kissed passionately and ran down the aisle. People threw popcorn and rice as we jumped into Bill's blue Biscayne.

     Times were a little lean in those days, and we planned our honeymoon at Wiley Park. Wedsleydale Woods had just opened up as a campground, and we brought a couple sleeping bags and a little hooch to "put us in the mood". You know how it is. We put the bags together and that was our only protection from the cold and mosquitoes.

     I don't remember what time it was when I first noticed that Bill was gone. It was very still and cold. I propped myself up and looked around, then called his name several times. There was no answer but the rustle of leaves and the hoot of a barn owl. I got up and dressed, then went to look for him. I didn't think he was in any trouble or anything, just seemed strange to get up and go for a stroll without waking me. I got his flashlight out of the trunk of the car and walked into the woods, figuring to look at Sybert Lake. It is one of the prettiest lakes in Iowa and Bill used to take me there when we were courting.

     As I walked through the woods, I heard a faint humming sound coming from the docks. The air smelled funny, like it was about to rain, even though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The sound and smell grew more pervasive as I stumbled through the trees. I just felt in my bones that Bill would be down there at the dock. When I got there, I was stunned. Not thirty feet from where I stood was my new husband, standing naked on the dock. His back was to me, and he was watching a little girl floating in mid-air. She couldn't have been more than twelve, and she was hovering like she was suspended by something. I got closer to see what was going on, and Bill paid no attention to me, even though I was calling his name. Then the girl started revolving, head over heels, and she looked as though she were sleeping, a deep sleep. Funny thing was her smile. Perfectly happy and normal, despite her strange state. I reached out to Bill and touched his shoulder. Instead of his ruggedly handsome face, I saw a horror even Lon Chaney couldn't duplicate. I gasped in terror and turned away, I couldn't look at him. His face was covered in enormous cancer-like boils ranging in size from a penny to a fist. It was as if he had just walked through an atomic test.

     The boils were only on his face, the rest of his body looked red in the moonlight, as though he had a sunburn, and his eyes glowed with an unearthly light....very difficult to describe. I turned back and reached out again, trying to understand what was happening. I asked him to tell me what was going on, but before he could respond, the humming sound suddenly grew louder. From out of nowhere this flying disc, like a pie plate, appeared. It was about twenty feet in diameter and it came down and hovered above the slowly rotating girl. The sound got even louder and then the flying disc and the girl began to move away-across the lake and then up, northward, at an incredible rate of speed. I was in shock, I guess, because I just stood there, transfixed by the sight.

     After a few minutes, I recovered and turned my attention back to Bill. I knew he needed a doctor, fast. I guided him back to the car and dressed him as best I could, even though I knew it must have hurt. I went to get the rest of our things from the campsite but when I came back to the car he was gone. I couldn't see him anywhere. I must have looked for hours, but I couldn't find him. Finally, I got a park ranger who called the police. We had no luck finding him that night, or the next day. Or the next. Or the next.

     Broken hearted, I continued the search myself long after the police gave up. With posters, ads, and phone calls I have continued to try to find my husband. To find out if he is all right. And to let him know I still love him.

     In 1955, I remarried. He was a close friend who helped me with my search. His name was Hugo Cronin, and he helped me find a little happiness. I have heard the stories about the Phantom in Wiley Park. I ignored them at first, but there were too many details in common with my story. I have come to believe that the Phantom is my first husband. I've talked to Ranger Johnson, and met with some of the others who have witnessed this "creature" in the woods. We are in the process of organizing a "Phantom Hunt", and when we find the creature, I am confident we will also find my husband...Bill Palmer. If anyone out there has any information about my husband, or if you have seen the Phantom of Wiley Park, please get in touch with me. I need to speak with you!