My first experience with the photograph was on a weekday afternoon, several years ago. I had been hired to serve legal papers on the City of Wilcox, Arizona.
At this point, you should know that Wilcox is a small 'cowboy' town, about 70 miles Southwest of Tucson. My day had been busy, causing me to leave late for my trip to Wilcox. When I arrived at about 4:15 p.m, the receptionist said I would have to wait in the lobby for my contact person.
The offices for the City of Wilcox are located in the beautifully refurbished train station of yesteryear. I have always had a fascination for old photographs, and today was no exception. There were probably a half dozen turn of the century photographs hanging on the walls of the small, but open, lobby area. One such picture depicted a group of about sixty individuals standing on the porch of the railway station. This was not a posed photo, but rather a candid remembrance.
I cannot explain the magnetic draw that caused me to focus on a specific 'old timer', but my captivation was rewarded with what I perceived to be about a twenty degree drop in temperature. The hair on my arms stood at attention, as my knees grew weak. I had to sit down.
Moments later, the lady that I had been waiting for appeared. We conducted our business just before closing time. I was able to take one last look at the photograph. The same conditions repeated themselves.
My friend Dave had come along for the ride. Dave does not share my appetite for the paranormal. The trip home was silent, and I raked though the memories of my grandfather, and how he had attended many of the residents of the small towns in Southern Arizona. He was one of two doctors whose transportation consisted of a horse and buggy. I would like to believe that there is some connection between the old man in the photo and my grandfather. Maybe they knew each other.
I have no proof of this, but it continued to haunt me. A few months later I took a day off, gathered Dave, and we returned to Wilcox. This time we got there in plenty of time for me to see the photograph again. The same conditions returned for a third time. I knew there was something here that was hiding just below my ability to perceive it. I asked the receptionist if there was anyone who might know about the picture. It appeared that the work force was far too young to be of any help. I was able to get a photocopy of the photograph, which I have attempted to investigate through various newspaper offices in Southern Arizona.
There is no conclusion, as yet, to my experience. I continue to look for possible answers. If there is anyone out there that has any information about the old west in Cochise county, in Southern Arizona, please contact me.