George Buster Singleton |
(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator
George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere
in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Mother Nature works in the
strangest ways” was originally published in the March 26, 1992 edition of The
Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)
During my travels around the countryside, I have experienced
many strange happenings. I have witnessed several events that have caused many
to look at me in a strange way, and I’m sure that they wonder whether there is
any truth in some of these strange events. But I would not relate to my readers
anything that wasn’t as I witnessed them.
I would like to share with you an event that happened just
this past Saturday. It was one of the most unusual, and I couldn’t believe it
was happening, even as I became a part of this strange event.
The time is now 3:10 p.m. on Sat., March 21, 1992. Upon
returning home, I came straight to my computer and began to write out the story
that you are about to read.
Around 1:30 p.m., I rolled out one of my motorcycles and
decided to ride north on Highway 41 up into the hills, just as I have done many
times before. After finishing several jobs in the yard that my wife had
instructed me to do, I decided that I needed to get away for a few minutes of
relaxation and rest.
Discovering that my better half had gone to town for some
needed items, I put things in gear and headed north. The air was kind of cool
so I hurriedly found a warm jacket to protect me from the chilly air.
Red-tailed Hawk. |
As I sped across Limestone Creek and topped out the long
hill to the north, I saw what I thought was a very large red-tail hawk standing
right beside the asphalt road. I couldn’t believe that this wild bird was so
close to the road and the speeding traffic that rushed by.
I proceeded on to the intersection of Ridge Road, where I
turned around and headed back to where I had seen the huge hawk. I could not
believe my eyes; the huge bird was still there, crouched within a few inches of
the asphalt.
I pulled off the road just opposite the large hawk. I
thought that any minute it would take to the air. Then I remembered that
several vehicles had passed since I had turned around, and it had not flown
from fear of these speeding autos.
I walked slowly across the highway; with each step I
expected the large hawk to lift its wings and speed away. I walked within three
feet of the beautiful bird, and it just sat there, continuing to stare at me.
Several vehicles sped by, the large hawk did not move. Then
I noticed the hawk was standing on the carcass of a dead rabbit. It appeared
that the rabbit had been hit by a speeding automobile, due to the fact that it
was torn apart and crushed.
I could not believe that the huge hawk had not flown; I
moved closer. Several vehicles were slowing down as though looking to see what
I was investigating. I moved closer to the large bird. Then, I realized that
something was wrapped around the left foot and leg of the large hawk.
Upon closer examination, I saw that the leg and foot were
entangled in a mesh of wire about the size of a softball. I could not decide
whether to try to remove the wire. I knew that the large hawk could be very
vicious and mean when caught by someone.
I still had on my leather riding gloves and the quite heavy
coat. Slowly I reached over and touched the large hawk on the back. Several
automobiles had slowed down, trying to see what I was doing; the hawk only
looked up at me, its sharp eyes gleaming.
I knew that the sharp beak could cut me like a knife as I
reached slowly over with both hands and picked up the beautiful creature. I was
expecting all heck to break loose as I slowly lifted the large hawk up and
placed the trembling body under my right arm. There was no struggle as I placed
my right arm around the large bird’s body and slowly began to untangle the mess
of wire wrapped around the left leg of the wild, beautiful creature.
I could tell that the wire had been there for some time, due
to the many cuts and rubbed places on the damaged leg. I could not believe that
the leg was still usable, after seeing its condition. The trembling had almost
ceased in the body of the large hawk; no effort had been made to try and get
out from under my arm. I rubbed the top of the large bird’s head; I felt its
beak. The beak was rough as though it had been damaged while trying to remove
the mesh of small rusted wire from its wounded leg.
Finally, the wire was removed; the large bird continued to
stay quiet and still. I examined the damaged leg and was amazed to find that it
wasn’t broken and that none of the claws were broken or missing. Slowly I
raised the large hawk up in front of me. Its head now rested in the crook of my
left arm. I stroked its neck and back, expecting any minute for it to try and
break loose. But no effort was made to free itself from my arms.
I wanted to stay there all the afternoon, but I still had
chores to be done, and I knew that my friend and I had to say farewell. I
placed the large hawk on the ground near the carcass of the dead rabbit. Slowly
the hawk stepped over and started once again to pull away the flesh and swallow
it.
I decided to see if the huge bird would let me pick it up
again after I had removed the wire from its leg. The beautiful creature made no
effort to resist as I reached down and cradled it in my arms.
I moved the carcass of the dead rabbit away from the busy
highway. Slowly, I placed my friend down beside it and moved across the highway
to my parked motorcycle. The large hawk continued to eat. As I started the
engine, the beautiful hawk rose into the air and perched atop a small pine
tree. Pulling onto the highway, I could see that the large eyes of the hawk
were looking directly at me. I raised my left hand in a farewell salute.
Perhaps our trails might cross again. Who knows? Strange
things do happen.
(Singleton, the author
of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of
79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born on Dec.
14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School, served in
the Korean War, moved to Monroe County in 1961 and served as the administrator
of the Monroeville National Guard unit from 1964 to 1987. For years,
Singleton’s column “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he
wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama
Life magazine. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column
above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through
the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville.
Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship
purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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