My old Mexican grandfather would tell me stories about traveling from village to village on horseback in Mexico when he was younger.
He claims that he had many unexplainable encounters in the woods of Mexico when he was younger. A human-sized owl, witch like figures, and even fighting off the devil himself.
What stories did your grandparents tell you about?
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Well, my grandfather did not tell me much about his life.
He told me a bit about the holocaust, about his military service but thats it.
He is still alive and strong as hell, 91 years old and has a daily 6km walk like a king
Grandads on both side told me many many exciting stories about their youth…most of which I realise now are completely false as they were both raging alcoholics.
My grandfather’s whole life could be a movie. He grew up during the great depression. His father was a shiner and killed himself in a river after giving himself rot gut. His dad was a criminal so he only finished elementary school and went to work in the mills as child labor under extreme conditions and worked until he was 16/17 then lied about his age to join the navy during world war two and his boat was hit by a few kamikaze attacks. He was married three times and probably has illegitimate kids all over the country he also lived to be 100.
Lol, must be common. My grandfather was born in mexico and came to the US during WW2.
He claimed to have met the devil twice. Once on a mountain trail, in the form of a half goat half man. The other time driving a black luxury car in michigan late at night. The owl thing is something called “La chusa” (I think) there are others. La llarona and the donkey lady.
I heard some twisted version of cinderella more then once from different older relatives. There was always some seedy bar in town, where a young woman who wasn’t suppose to be out, danced with a handsome man until midnight, who turned out to be the devil (with rooster feet?) then left with him never to be heard from again.
Went to the ghost tracks and heard all the stories about it more then once.
All I can really know is that my grandpa was a Sergeant in the military of a country that the USA pushed into a civil war. I don’t think he wants to remember any of the specifics to share.
He was a conscript in Burma shortly after WW2. He was no older than 20 and no younger than 18. They had news insurgents were going to destroy a railway line and so him and his unit were positioned in the grass overlooking it.
While laying down in the grass he suddenly got a pat on the leg, “Ok Tommy!” a voice said. A Ghurka, in the dead silence, had crept up behind him, felt the fabric of his trousers and the pattern of his laces. By both he could tell he was a British soldier. If not, they probably would’ve cut his throat.
It’s safe to say no one in his unit ever did their laces wrong.