"Even if I could just find a showerhead or a pipe," he said. I don't watch horror movies either; there is absolutely nothing entertaining about being so desperately scared. That is a ridiculous statement, but it gets the point across. So, the group roamed around the property and over towards the silo. Broken Bow, Nebraska Save this job View job details; Final Pack 5 ,7 RN Broken Bow, Nebraska Save this job View job details; Stopper and Evacuate Operator ... Search for a location and select one from the list of suggestions. But, I managed to shrug it off. But, out of some sort of subconscious respect for my former teacher, I went straight into the version that he told my class in my sophomore year of high school. I think I knew, even then, exactly what the source was, but I was endlessly trying to convince myself that I was wrong. His words were almost incoherent, at least to my ears. I wanted to learn from this guy, even though I didn't believe much of the story. I tried to talk back, fully intending to say, "Open this up and get me out right now." We talked for a solid twenty minutes. Nebraska isn't as terrible of a place as people make it out to be, but it really isn't all that exciting. The bulb of the flashlight faded as it cooled and I put it into my pocket, simultaneously pushing back against the cold cement wall in an attempt to stand. I looked around the walls that sat in front of me; they were smooth cement. This was a fairly futile effort; most of Nebraska is dirt roads. "I'll be out in a second. Broken Bow is a city in McCurtain County, Oklahoma, United States. I moved through the brush until I was roughly twenty feet from the entrance, at which point all of the growth seem to stop. We were driving back to the hotel before Steve said something. My concussion must have amplified the pain, because it was blinding. ", He got almost cartoonish with his sadness in the next several seconds. The metal was rusted and cracked; little bits of the liquid began to seep from them. Broken Bow, NE (68822) Today. They are in underground tunnels. The pain in my head was immense, but it was outweighed by the pain shooting through my knee. Mr. Mays had the typical teacher decorations around the classroom, smiling jack-o-lanterns and black cat cartoons, typical and boring in the minds of egotistic high-school students. You've gotta good head on your shoulders, boy. At the end of the pipe was a simple showerhead, aimed down towards the ground. As I approached the far corner of the room, the sound of my feet scratching against the dirt was interrupted by a soft, hollow thud. It's easy to do. They approached the building as a group, looking in the semi-open sliding door to find a big, empty room. Website +1 308-872-2779. He reached to his left in an attempt to find a wall to lean against, and ended up finding a handle, then pulled hard, never losing his vision on the children. Low 24F. No CDL Skills Tests given at this location. A few flurries or snow showers possible. I heard noises, but I can't be sure if it was just the sounds of my own movement or something around me. You know that feeling when your stomach drops? "So, when you're out trick r' treating tonight, make sure that you know exactly where you are headed, and don't go out to any abandoned farmhouses. The gown was stained with something dark and brown, with occasional splashes of a deep red. "Fucking took him, they did. I kept telling myself there was nothing behind me, but I swore that I heard feet scraping only a few inches behind my own. I had an inkling at this point that we had found the right place, but I didn't want to jinx it, so we continued onward. Every now and then I would have to duck or move under another metal bar, another showerhead. The entirety of the group rushed through the dim light to their friend, barely noticing the seemingly pitch black room that now lay before them. The only trait that grabbed my attention was a sweater that he used to wear on his birthday during class. The class laughed and the mood lightened as the bell rang for passing period. Initially, the name didn't ring any bells with the woman which made sense, seeing as Mr. Mays had just given it the name after his experience there. Still, the lights were on, so they figured they would give it a try. The thing that froze me, though, was the eye. I was reverting back to my old habits quickly. He didn't know. They were all dressed in nightgowns that looked to be tattered and torn, stained dark with something. "-ove you, baby." Steve was still excited, eagerly running around the inside of the building. He began his story immediately after the class had calmed down. I have been like the boy who cried wolf for years, but I assure you with every ounce of honesty and integrity that I have that this time, the wolf is real. There were parts of the tunnel in which the ceiling dipped down to maybe three feet above the ground. The way that Mr. Mays had told that story and the detail that he included in it, left me feeling like we didn't get the whole story. I knew I had a concussion, but the pain in my knee was just so much more pressing. We found a bar and spent some time there, and that was just about the extent of our activity on our "day off". Winds NW at 10 to 20 mph. My jeans would brush against my legs every now and then, making it feel like someone was touching me, and even now, I still can't completely convince myself that someone wasn't. I made up and spread stories about haunted pizza parlors in New York, my "cousin's" encounter with the Jersey Devil, or how my "grandfather" encountered a feral, human-like demon creature in the woods of Colorado. Cops told us we were just drunk, that he wandered off and got taken by the wildlife. I gave a half-hearted chuckle and grabbed one of the lights from his hand. But the one thing that I couldn't have imagined was that cellar door was locked, and then it suddenly wasn't. It took me a while to realize that I was an adult that was having a conversation with another adult. "Steve, seriously," I began, "I was fucking clawing, screaming for my life," I said as I looked behind me. - Check out Tripadvisor members' 258 candid photos and videos of Gateway Motel We drove around in the darkness for quite a while before we found a clearing. It was a door that belongs at the entrance to a nice house, not one that would be sitting in a dirt tunnel in the middle of nowhere. Some of the children were almost completely obscured by the length of it; every single one of them didn't appear to have seen a shower or nice bath in their entire life. I managed to duck under the next showerhead. I don't recall her name, but this woman was just one of those cheerful old people, very helpful and generally interested in what anyone had to say to her. According to the 1939 Federal Writers' Project Guide for Nebraska: “Broken Bow (alt. Come out of the fucking bushes." I was angry. City Cafe and Donut Shop, Broken Bow: See 28 unbiased reviews of City Cafe and Donut Shop, rated 4 of 5 on Tripadvisor and ranked #5 of 14 restaurants in Broken Bow. Mr. Mays turned the light on and thanked everyone for listening, reminded them about the paper due next week, and told us to have a safe and Happy Halloween. It was very quiet when I was alone in there. I was crawling now; there was no way that I could run. High 41F. I collapsed in exhaustion and pain, my eyes staring up at the slits of light before me. Simply click here to return to. "Thank fuck, man. I wasn't entirely sure how far we were from the nearest home or small town, but there wasn't even the slightest bit of evidence that anyone had been in this building for years. Mr. Mays' friend grabbed the steel knocker and hit it against the door several times, mockingly, but quietly uttering, "Is anyone home?" I remember hearing a reply along the lines of "Just look at it. I was angry at myself. Browse Locations. He said that approaching that door was one of his biggest regrets. No voice mail either. Low 24F. But, despite my hopes, there was nothing but a cluster of thick bushes on one side, brush and dirt everywhere, and the forest that we had come from. I remembered immediately the way that Mr. Mays had described it. Read more » Now, I had saved a pretty solid amount of money while I was in school and decided that I deserved a bit of a vacation, if you will. He'd never know about the trip we took after graduation, almost mimicking the one he and his friends had made. His face changed a bit, and a genuine look of recognition set in. "Jesus, Jack! "That's a bad place, Jack. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought of it as a little tribute to Mr. Mays, a guy that, in retrospect, helped me realize that I wanted to be a writer. But, it's out there now, for people to mold and warp to their needs. Box 485 | Broken Bow, NE 68822 Street Address: 327 S. First Ave. | Broken Bow, NE 68822 I suppose this aspect of my childhood has led to my current predicament which I will recount, in full, for the internet to take from it what they will. I guess that's really the point of this whole story. I called for Steve, as loud as I could manage, but heard no response. The group was no longer concerned with finding the owners of the property, but was now set on finding the source of that smell. I turned off my flashlight and was left in complete and total darkness. I breathed deeply for a couple more seconds before I heard another noise in the darkness. As I was running over the details of the story in my mind, something struck me like a sack of bricks; in Mr. Mays' story, there was a silo near the barn. No one was too terribly hurt. Initially I was reluctant simply because I didn't feel like aimlessly wandering through Nebraska for days, looking for some old farm building that was probably demolished at this point. Mr. Mays' friend went to say something else as one of the bulbs to their right flickered to life. I turned it on and pointed it into the darkness where I was just lying. The shirt simply read: "I'm the birthday boy!". No one spoke, things had gotten too strange. nebraska broken bow. "I slammed the red door behind me," he said, "and ran through that hallway faster than I have ever run before or since. Winds NW at 10 to 20 mph. We made it somewhere around Estes Park, Colorado and found a cheap cabin that we rented for about a month. I told my group of friends to grab a table and that I would join them in a second, then walked over to the man at the bar. It's a bad place.". Being adventurous college kids, the group didn't bring a map. Steve nodded, telling me to hang in there and that he would be back in a little bit, and then he ran off. There were sections where the boys had to almost crouch in order to pass. I have never been able to fully understand what happened that night. It wasn't until college that I got a chance to talk to Mr. Mays again. Low 24F. As they got closer, they noticed what appeared to be a cellar door. I reached both hands to my forehead when I felt something warm and wet with my fingers. It budged, but didn't open. I desperately searched for my flashlight as I sat up and tried to get back against the wall. The days were filled with lounging, hiking, and generally things that involved little-to-no work on our parts. Resides in Painesville, OH. There was no way that I was climbing out of here. "Steve, god dammit, open the fucking wooden door." But, I was comforted to see absolutely nothing there. The only person who seemed to know anything about it was an older lady that worked at a gas station on the outskirts of town. I felt like I was moving along something infinite. It was seven in the evening when we came upon a small, but thick forest. Mr. Mays laughed heartily and looked at me. My stomach must have been on the verge of falling out of me at this point, because it shifted again. When we did get back on the road, we decided that we would attempt to stay off of main roads for as much of the day as we could. "So you were just going to run off into that place in the dark?" Nancy Konrardy and Daniel Proett, the owners of this charming property, have been hosting special occasions since 2013, turning dreams into reality for clients. He felt that we were mature enough to handle it, but advised anyone that was squeamish to leave class early. Steve and I returned to the car without a word. The look in his eyes told me that he was three sheets to the wind and probably had no idea who I was. The room began to smell. I was angry at myself for getting so worked up. The main floor and kitchen are also available for special events. We are nestled right outside Broken Bow, Nebraska. I lived in that town for another couple months and then was rapidly moved halfway across the country to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Courthouse 1030 S D St Broken Bow, NE 68822 (308) 872-6260 Every Monday and Friday 8:30 - 12:30, 1:00 - 4:30. by haleigh How? Mr. Mays took another second to move, and had difficulty finding his bearings. I was so close to being out of here; I could taste it. He was a charismatic guy. "Mr. Mays, it's Jack. His friends grabbed the injured one and lifted him out of the room and into the hallway in an instant. I remember seeing the light from Steve's flashlight falling away into complete darkness. It's alright though, because his family was with him in the hospital room. They figured that, at the very least, the people who lived here would be able to help them find where the guy's grandparents lived; the whole idea of "everyone knows everyone in these hick parts of the country," fueled this hope. One night, these guys were paying their tab and packing up to leave awfully early; they were usually there until the wee hours of the morning. I started to cry. I convinced myself that it was my injured mind playing tricks on me for a few moments until my mind decided to rapidly replay Mr. Mays' story. Imagine that, though, dying in fucking Nebraska. There were no cars, but one of Mr. Mays' friends was convinced he'd seen someone as they pulled up, so they decided to go inside and see if there was an office or something where someone might still be working. 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