Originally written in 2017
Years ago, I was deeply troubled by a disturbing event that occurred in my neighborhood in the mountain town of Woodland Park, Colorado.
With few neighbors, I cherished the daily visits from wildlife. It looked like paradise. Yet, my daughters and I could not shake the feeling of a dark, mournful cloud that lingered.
I used to take evening walks. Across the street, nestled in the woods, stood an abandoned cabin in disrepair. I visited this cabin six nights a week, often standing there, feeling a heavy, burdensome air about it.
I once remarked to my daughters about the body in the house and how we should peek inside. I made it to the door but knew I had no right to enter a property that did not belong to me. My daughters said the cabin upset them and they would prefer we walk somewhere else because the area felt wrong and was “too dark.”
Nonetheless, I still felt drawn to the cabin and continued to walk there every evening. After an intense windstorm, a tree uprooted and fell on the carport, bringing attention to it by the owner of the property. Plans were made to tear down the cabin.
Soon after, we moved from Woodland Park and once we did, the sorrowful ambiance lifted. Three weeks after we moved and while the cabin was being torn down, a body was discovered curled up in the chimney.
The remains belonged to an eighteen-year-old man named Josh Maddux.
My family and I were stunned. I had a few dreams about him and envisioned snow falling softly and silently upon him. I remembered the deer surrounding the cabin and how he was alone, but not really; I wept over what he and his family went through.
Then I came across a photo taken three years before he disappeared. My family was sledding in Woodland Park and right next to us, Joshua was sledding with his brother. His brother, with whom he had been close, had taken his own life less than a year later, and in May 2008, Josh left his home in Woodland Park never to return. Somehow, he died in that cabin less than a mile from his home and across the street from mine. It must have been foul play, but whatever the cause of his tragic death, he left the awareness and energy in which he died behind.
It is years later and the cabin is long gone. The plot of land may be for sale as the property was sectioned off while I walked upon it but I cannot imagine anyone building on the land.
In my research, which is public information, I had found out that the owner of the cabin had a brother who had been molested by a priest as a child. 15 days after Josh went missing, this man “fell” to his death while hiking. It was said that he was the last person to live in the cabin, which was boarded up two years before Josh perished in it.
Did Josh meet foul play and was somehow placed in the chimney? I am inclined to believe something awful happened to him, something not of his choosing, but I could be wrong, and I do not know which fate is worse.
Regardless, I will always remember Josh. It took me years before I could look at cabins and chimneys without seeing his face and remembering that sorrowful air. I want nothing more than to believe he is at peace, and I hope that one day my thoughts of him will be as well.
Disclaimer: The information provided in this blog post reflects my personal opinions, research and experiences. It is not intended as factual information. The metaphysical and spiritual opinions expressed in this blog post are not grounded in scientific facts or empirical evidence. Please conduct your own research to form your own conclusions.
Can you please tell me what my daughters and I were feeling while we were there?
He was murdered in the cabin, but he was not the only one who had been murdered on the land – humans and animals. Many had been secretly buried on the property over the years. What you and your daughters felt was the energy from the cabin and land themselves as they attempted to purge energies of fear, trauma, and grief from the many ghosts, including his, that remained. What you also felt was him desperately attempting to energetically reach anyone who could feel him to let them know that he was not missing – he was right there. Once his body was returned to the family he was able to cross over.
Reading With A Mentor
DH Darling 