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The Road to Heber

I won’t blame you if you don’t believe what happened to me the other night. If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I don’t think I would believe it either.

I was driving up Provo Canyon, headed to Heber, trying to make up time so I wouldn’t be late for an appointment. I had just crossed the Deer Creek Dam and as I rounded a corner in the road, I had to slam on my brakes to avoid hitting three men, who were standing directly in the middle of the road.

There was something almost surreal about the men and they were all dressed a bit strangely in some clothing that had a familiar, but ancient-seeming appearance to it. My first thought was that they looked like they had just stepped out of an Arnold Frieberg painting or something.

At first, I was shocked, and although I don’t really want to admit it, a bit scared, but then a strange calm came over me. Suddenly, it was almost like I was watching myself in a dream. I opened my car door and got out. Looking around, I noticed that a dense fog had arisen.

One of the men spoke to me, calling me by name. At the time, it seemed perfectly natural that he would know my name. “Don’t go to Heber tonight,” he said calmly, “You need to turn around and go home now.”

“What a bunch of kooks,” I suddenly thought, and instantly resolved to get back in my car and continue on my way. However, as I turned to head back to my car, the one who had spoken suddenly fell to his knees. “Please,” he said pleadingly.

Determined to get out of there immediately, I started walking, but suddenly felt myself being held. I looked back…and there was the old man, pulling on my leg – just like I’m pulling on yours.

- A Mormon Zone Original (based on an old, old, punch-line)

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