Around 2000 or 2001, when I was about ten, I had an unforgettable experience. It was late, probably between 1:00 and 2:00 AM. My mom was picking up my older brother from a friend’s house in the Upper Valley, the area once known as “The Nutcracker Farm.” My twin and I were in the car too.
As we drove down Westside Drive, we spotted a figure in the distance: a woman in a long white gown, walking alongside the canal and carrying a lamp. What immediately struck us was the ethereal glow surrounding her. As we got closer, her face appeared strangely blank, devoid of distinct features.
Then we realized—she wasn’t walking. She was gliding, just barely above the ground. There was no sound, yet her posture and presence conveyed profound sorrow. It was bizarre—who would be out by the canal at that hour, dressed like that, in the middle of farmland?
I couldn’t look away, but as we passed her, my mom’s voice was firm: “Don’t look back.” Of course, curiosity got the better of us, but when we turned around, she was gone. Vanished.
To this day, I believe it was La Llorona. It’s eerie to think that others, mostly police officers on patrol, have reported seeing her in that same area. I’ve even heard police dispatch recordings about these sightings on YouTube.” -Gera C.
