Column: The Thanksgiving message

Editor’s Note: Retired Stevens Point Assistant Police Chief Ron Carlson wrote this piece in October 2021. We’ve published it in honor of Thanksgiving. This is his story about something he experienced while he while on patrol. The names and locations have been changed, or omitted entirely, to protect the privacy of those involved, but the other details are true.

By Ron Carlson

Whether you believe in ghosts or spirits is your choice, but I do wish to say the following is a true story and not fiction. Hope you enjoy it.

It was the mid-1980s and I was working the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift, (also known as the graveyard shift) at the Stevens Point Police Department.

It was around 3:50 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning when another officer and I were dispatched to a private residence on the city’s east side. It was there that a burglar alarm had been set off and reported to a dispatcher.

It is standard practice to have at least two officers respond to such a call. I soon came to realize how glad I was to have another officer with me that morning.

Upon pulling into the driveway, we observed the entire house and grounds to be dark. The only thing out of the ordinary was the overhead garage door, which was halfway open.

The lady of the house came out and met us as we searched the open garage with our flashlights, finding nothing in the garage. We then spoke with the homeowner.

She explained that her entire family had been asleep in the home when all of the lights, TV, stereo, and other appliances turned on, waking them all. She went on to say that just as quickly as they had come, the power turned off, leaving the house in total darkness—and the occupants unable to turn the lights back on. We all agreed this power disruption must have triggered the burglar alarm.

My partner then volunteered to check the circuit breakers downstairs. Moments later, he returned and reported everything looked fine and could not explain the outage. We had already searched the entire home and grounds finding nothing amiss.

We were then standing by the garage door advising the homeowner that she may want to contact an electrician to ensure everything was okay. Suddenly, the garage light came on and the overhead door closed by itself. A lamp in the living room, which we were told was typically on at night, also turned on—but no other lights or electrical devices.

At once, the homeowner brought her hands to her mouth and began shrieking, “It’s Bill, my husband, he died one week ago today!”

She went on to say that Thanksgiving was very important to him and he believed that their family should always be together on that day.

She then seemed calm and comforted by this thought—while I had goosebumps then, as I do now while writing this. Something or someone did seem to be there with us that early morning. The message was felt by all who were there.

Sometime later, I again talked with the homeowner who stated she did in fact contact an electrician who found nothing wrong with the electricity in the home.

Carlson lives with his wife in Stevens Point.