Did you ever receive one of those Prize winning envelopes in
the mail? Where, if you go downtown to the Regency Hotel’s Conference Hall, and
listen to an hour presentation about a Timeshare somewhere on the Coast, they
award you with a prize?
I did, recently, when I was really bored about 6 months ago.
I decided I would go. I called the 1-800 number, talked to a
customer service representative to verify my attendance, and on the very next
day, found myself outside the Hotel.
I walked inside, wondering where all the placards were, pointing
out directions to where the Timeshare presentation would be held.
I didn’t see any, so I went up to the Receptionist behind
the front desk and asked about the event.
To my surprise, he asked if my name was Reuben Hatch.
I said it was, and he handed me a manila envelope, telling
me the event had been cancelled due to the lack of participation. The people,
who were going to hold the event, told the Receptionist that if I showed up for
the presentation, I should be given this envelope.
I went out to my car, opened the envelope, found one airline
ticket to the Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport, one bus ticket for
a ride to the Mississippi River Landing, and one ticket for an “Old Fashion
Mississippi Steamboat Cruise.”
This was great, it was just what I needed. A free vacation
on a river cruise!
I booked the flight immediately, made reservations on the
cruise ship, and packed only an overnight bag. Figuring, with all the money I’m
saving on a surprise vacation, I’ll just buy new clothes as they’re needed.
The first night, on the ship, went as smoothly as one would
want. I awoke so refreshed, that the next day I got out of my quarters around 6
a.m. I moseyed up to the main deck expecting to find couples walking around
searching for the dining hall, like I was.
I didn’t see a soul.
That was quite odd since I surely remember seeing a crowd of
army, uniformed guests, gathered around the deck when I boarded the night before. It
was pretty hazy out, due to an evening mist, but there were hundreds, maybe thousands of them last night.
I never did get close to the
other passengers though, but a Porter, by the name of Cass Mason, who led me to my
room said, "Everything will be explained in due course."
Now, up on the main deck, I didn’t see a soul.
I immediately went up to the Captain’s Quarters to knock on
his door to find some answers.
What I found instead was a note. Framed, encased in glass,
stating that, “This Mississippi Steamboat Cruise Line is self-efficient.
Not a Living Crew Member on board.”
Meaning, I thought, no
one on board except for myself and the other passengers.
That, I thought, would be the reason why I hadn’t seen
anyone. Because I didn’t read any pamphlets in my quarters, which would have
told me the ins and outs of procedure on this ship.
How technology has changed our lives, I thought.
Then, after finding a directory by my sleeping quarters, I
headed down to the mess hall.
The closer I got, the more hideous of an order, flowed in my
direction.
After finding it, I found out why, and things became even
creepier!
There was row after row of toppled tables, overturned
chairs, broken china on the floor, and silverware scattered everywhere.
It looked like full meals were being served when some kind
of tragedy had happened. Except, now these meals were spoiled rotten. Mold was
growing on everything. And the stench. It was disgusting.
I went back out into the corridor and regurgitated.
I couldn’t help myself.
I spit a few times trying to get the taste out of my mouth,
then ran as fast as I could to my quarters.
Why is it, we feel safer in a place, where we once rested
our heads?
We feel safe in our own homes, in our rooms inside a Hotel,
even safer sleeping inside a nylon tent in the middle of the woods where grizzlies and
black bears live, then to directly sleep out in the open.
But my room made me no less afraid of what more I would find
on this free Steamboat River Cruise.
I went back to the directory, where I had located the Dining
Hall in the first place, to see if it showed me how I could contact the owners
or the people who booked my vacation.
I was shocked by the fact that I hadn’t noticed the name of
the ship before.
It was called the Sultana. A steam ship, if I remember my family
history correctly, on April 27th, 1865 had three of its four boilers
explode, killing 1,800 Civil War Union Soldiers! My Great-Great-Granddad had
chartered this boat for them!
I’m on board a ghost ship!
I ran to the lifeboat area and found none. All the lifeboats
it seems were missing.
As I floated down the river I would see boaters, skiers,
fishermen, and I would yell to them, “Call the authorities about a runaway
Cruise Ship.”
But no one seem to notice me or the ship. And no rescue
crews ever came.
By this time, I had had enough of this weirdness. So I looked
for an area of slow moving water, figuring the rapid flowing waters were due to
rocks being close to the surface, causing faster currents.
I saw what I was looking for, jumped overboard, and splashed
into the icy cold, freezing waters, of the Mississippi.
Hypothermia must have set in quicker than normal, because I
blacked out almost immediately.
The last thing I remember, was seeing Cass Mason the Porter,
clearly through the Mississippi waters wearing a Riverboat Captain’s uniform.
It seemed like he reached down, from Sultana’s main deck, grabs me by the scruff of my
neck, as I was passing out.
Now, once again, I awake in my sleeping quarters on the
Sultana. I placed this note inside this corked wine bottle so you, the finder, can
help me by reporting my fate to the authorities. I haven’t eaten in months!
There is no fresh water to drink! Please help me. I don’t know why I am still
alive!
At night, if I even try to sleep, I hear the screams of thousands of men
as they are torn apart by explosion after explosion after explosion. Cries for
help haunt my waking hours. And if I hide in my cabin, I hear the Captain’s
boots walking the decks. Each step getting louder and louder until I scream for
all them to stop!
I jump into the Mississippi almost daily now to end my
ghostly hauntings. After each time though, I awake inside my quarters. And now,
each time, I can hear the Captain speaking to me when he pulls me out of those
waters.
“My boat’s capacity was for only 376 patrons, but your kin
swayed me with the filth of gold to place over 2,000 war veterans on these
decks. You shall suffer for your Forefather’s greed, cause I alone cannot be
blamed for all those 1,800 deaths. You will float these waters with me until
the fallen have forgiven us and say we need not ride the Mississippi no more.”
Please, if you don’t believe I speak the truth, can you at
least ask the families of the fallen Union Soldiers to forgive the Captain and
I? I can’t live like this any longer, or I can’t be dead like this any longer!
The Steamboat Sultana - Captain Mason - Lt. Col. Reuben Hatch Killed 1,800 Union Soldiers Just Weeks After They Were Released From The Confederate's Prison Camps Of Cahaba And Andersonville,
This is,
Jim Hauenstein,
And,
“Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us.” - Jim Carroll -
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
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P.S. The Titanic only lost 1,512 lives compared to over 1,800 lost by the Sultana.
