Wilcox Island, also known as Willow Island, is located on the Connecticut River between Cromwell and the Arrigoni Bridge. The island spans approximately 32 acres. Before the area was settled, the island was used by Native Americans as a halfway point when crossing the Connecticut River. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, the island served as a home for John B. DeRay Jr. and his homemade houseboat. A footbridge once connected the island to Middletown and it was used as a park. Today, Wilcox Island is a city park owned by Middletown, given to the city in 1920 by the heirs of William Walter Wilcox, a local textile magnate. (https://www.riverexplorer.com/connecticut/details.php?id=4071). There’s a nice article about this island in The Middler, an old local newspaper, starting on page 10 (https://sites.rootsweb.com/~ctsmfsd/Middler414ForWeb.pdf).
Crystal and I had tried twice before to get across to this island in the middle of the Connecticut River, knowing we’d get wet, hoping to cross at low tide when two raised areas can be seen. She was going to do her Barefoot Paranormal thing (on Kofi.com and then YouTube) and I was going to do my ghost thing, and be there because I’m really good at first aid. We’d already sensed presences there from the river side.
Third time’s the charm. Right. We both had swimsuits on below our clothes, her camera was safe if it went in the water. Crystal was running late, so we reached the crossing point at low tide. Now I find that the water is deeper than I am tall, faster running river on this side had cut away underneath us. We had to swim.
Made it, else I wouldn’t be writing this, tough going because there were no paths on the island, only one set of deer tracks, one set of Heron tracks. We heard an Eagle cry out. Trees blocked the sandy-mud shores. Never made it more than a third of the way down the island.
So I found a clearer area and sensed where the first ghost was, a woman, she’d made a home for herself here after running away from her abusive husband?, and had avoided contacting her friends because he could interrogate them. She could cross back and steal food and clothes as needed. I don’t feel confident about getting a year date, maybe I’m getting better? I got 1851. She felt lonely but accepted her life as it now was. Died there. I was able to help her work through her feelings and reunite her with family and friends, all wearing period outfits, in Heaven.
Reviewing this, I wonder if she was an escaped slave? The passage of the Fugitive Slave Act in 1850 made it legal for slaveholders to pursue escaped slaves into any state or territory in the union. Connecticut still had some slaves after this. I didn’t get anything from her about her background and didn’t think to ask.
The second ghost, smaller impact, was a little boy who had gone exploring, and injured his right foot, so he couldn’t move. His parents never found him. I tried telling him he was a ghost and that everyone he knew had grown older and died. Not noted for being tactful, am I! He told me I was lying. I took him up to Heaven, where of course, his parents and siblings were as he had last seen them, in period attire for 1876. ‘I told you you were lying’ he said to me. His father winked at me. I’ll get over it.
We headed back, slow going. to find the sandy area at the north end was much smaller. We’d been there 2.5 hours and all that time the tide had risen. We made it. Crystal swimming with just one arm as she held the camera up out of the water.
The next day a friend told me that up-river at Springfield there had been a sewage overflow. Finding out that Native Americans had used it as a crossing point. No signs it had ever been park-like. If Priscilla had been with us, she’d be sensing / connecting with them.
