Tales From Home Pt. 6: The Tunnel of Doom

During my youth, I was often forced to find things that kept me entertained. This unfortunate side effect of living in a small town helped expand my imagination as well as opening my mind to more advantageous pursuits, like history. Despite this, there were occasional novelties which broke the monotony and allowed me to experience the frequent carelessness associated with youth. The parties at Dan Hummel’s house were one of these things. Famous among everyone who had been their or heard about them, they featured a string of some of the most random things in history. Strange tales of axes crashing through doors, turkeys crapping on couches, and clown heads wrapped in plastic garbage bags, would compliment the unquestioning hospitality of Dan's parents along with the appeal of the latest video game system. Unfortunately, as we began to age, the parties became less frequent and arguably less fun. Despite this, we still found the time to meet on occasion and spend some time at one of our favorite places. It was at one of these last parties, that we entered the "Tunnel of Doom."

Dan was always full of crap, but that was always part of his appeal. He would often tell the most ridiculous stories, and if you feigned belief he would continue, making the stories more and more ridiculous as he went. Of course, if you did not want to hear a particular story, you would just have to call him on it exactly two times. The first time he would assure us it was true, after we repeated our objections, he would concede it was false. This sure fire system always worked until one of us (probably me) told him about it. In any event, Dan's stories were always good for entertainment, and we often listened intently. One of these stories was the "truth" about the "Kennerdell Tunnel".

The Hummels live on a former railroad bed about a mile and a half from a long curving tunnel. When you were in the middle of it, it was almost completely dark. Of course this meant that a visit at night was a must, and therefore Dan felt the need to spice it up. Naturally, the trump card in this situation, at least in the mind of a 17-18 year old, is murder. Dan proceeded to spin an absolute yarn of death, murder, and intrigue all of which had occurred in the small rural tunnel. Apparently, a number of workers had died during the construction, which inevitably caused it to be cursed. The haunted tunnel caused many trains to crash, killing many, if not all of its passengers. The curse resulted in the closing of the tunnel, which only encouraged murdering psychopaths to move in. Of course they would kill people as well. Eventually, the hundreds of deaths would finally force the community to install a road block in front of the tunnel, but by no means would there be any plans for destroying it. It was in the midst of these stories that Dan casually suggested that we visit the tunnel at night and see if there was anything of interest. Therefore we all piled in to his car, and made our way to the tunnel.

In retrospect, the makeup of our group on that faithful night was quite random. It included Dan and I, Shay (a friend of Jesse and I, but someone who hated Dan), Steve Dubrowski (sometimes called DumBROWNski, due to an unfortunate accident on the school bus in fifth grade), Scott or "GYB" (see blog entitled "Tales From Home Pt. 4: GYBin' It Up"), and Chad Reilly (a friend of Shay's). As we all made our way to the tunnel, we could not help but notice storm clouds forming, an ominous omen to be sure. Despite this, our joy a possibly meeting someone who would brutally murder us lifted our spirits, and we entered the tunnel with two flashlights and firm intentions. What happened next would change our lives forever.

As we entered the tunnel I was given the duty of holding a flashlight, while Dan (as the guide) was holding the other one. We had both been to the tunnel before (and surprisingly survived), and therefore seemed to be the most obvious choices for such an important task. The walk was difficult due to the uneven gravel and drainage ditches full of water on either side, but we continued into the deepest depths of the sinister public work. As we were walking, Dan quietly suggested that I walk a little slower. I obliged, knowing that Dan had an idea that would undoubtedly make me laugh. As we reached the middle and by far the darkest part of the tunnel, Dan went over to investigate a part of the wall that had been occupied by one of the tunnel's previous serial-killing residents. Leaning over the ditch his hands against the wall, he claimed that he found it and then stepped back to shine his flashlight on the spot so that we all could examine it. As I moved forward, Dan stopped me, and whispered, "When I say, shut off your flashlight and run to the car." I chuckled, and agreed. While Dan's light flashed on the indiscriminate wall, everyone carefully scrutinized it. At that moment, we both shut of our lights and started running. Dan and I had been quite good runners, and this coupled with the fact that Chad, Scott, and Steve were all quite tall and slower, caused us to get a healthy lead before they finally realized that the dark crunching of rocks quickly moving away from them was us running. As we got to the car, we realized that Shay had managed to follow us. The rain had started to fall, and the three of us hopped into Dan's car and attempted to turn around and go home. Dan was about to go, when a loud thump hit his car. It was at that moment that we saw the unimaginable.

It was GYB. We couldn't believe it. In a furry of grunts and saliva, he had jumped on the top of Dan's car. Holding on to top of the windshield and smiling at us, Dan had no choice but to hit the gas. GYB screamed for us to stop, but Dan only turned on the windshield wipers so that they would hit his fingers, forcing him to let go. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful, and we made it home with GYB riding on top. He dismounted from the car, only a little wet, but (in characteristically typical fashion) assumed he had been part of the joke since he had ridden back with us. Not opposed to laughing at the misfortune of others, we all sat back and played Nintendo 64, while musing over the plight of Chad and "DumBROWNski".

After a few minutes, Chad and Steve entered the room, both soaking from the rain. Chad was angry, but just decided to sulk, while Steve decided to take his anger out on the one responsible for the whole charade, Shay. Quietly dismissing the possibility of Dan being the culprit, he accused Shay of orchestrating the whole thing, including the moment that he had fallen into the drainage ditch (unbeknownst to us). After yelling at him for a good ten minutes (while Dan, Scott, and I laughed), he and Chad left. For the rest of the evening, Shay had a bewildered expression on his face, while Dan and I nonchalantly engaged in games of Sonic and Ecco the Dolphin.

In conclusion, I have not entered the tunnel again since that faithful night. I would be lying if I didn't say that I feared its powers. It's ability to generate murders, house the infirm, and participate in practical jokes while simultaneously passing the blame to the innocent is a skill that is stunningly evil in its execution. Therefore I would urge all to heed my warning and avoid the God-forsaken spot. If you don't, you may be murdered, or worse, blamed as the inspiration for something committed by someone you don't even really like.