In Search For William Faulkner

I had one month left of college before summer and before I graduated from Ole Miss. Before I had to think about the real world and jobs and life. Everyone at Ole Miss has heard that William Faulkner's place is haunted. My grandmother went to Ole Miss and one of the main reasons I decided to graduate from the college as well. She used to tell me stories of William Faulkner sightings. Most of the time, he was spotted in the library, a fitting place for him to be.

Instead of thinking about finals or what comes after college, I was on a mission, a dare to investigate the truth behind William Faulkner's ghost. On a random Friday night in the springtime, my roommate, Erika from the Mississippi Delta, and my two closest friends, Sarah from Texas and Jenny from New Orleans, got all dressed up in black like we were going to go rob a bank, but instead, we were headed to William Faulkner's old house in Oxford, right off the square.

We parked my car about a block away so no one would be suspicious of our plan. Excited and nervous we crept toward the estate all the meanwhile trying to scare each other to death. We were telling jokes and having a fun scary time. Erika was the most scared, walking real slow behind me and holding on to my shirt, while I pretended to have the most courage. I'm certainly wasn't going to be scared of William Faulkner's ghost! Sarah, seeing my confidence, challenged me and dared me to run to the door step and knock on the door. All eyes were on me. The wind even stopped. I couldn't let them down now and thus accepted the challenge. I ran up to the door as fast as my heart was beating, knocked and raced back to join the others. Nothing happened. I was safe....However, just as we were laughing at the ridiculous thought of this old run-down house being haunted by an old author, we saw the headlights. Immediately, like deer, we froze for a second then scattered outside of the gate. Erika and I ended up in some overgrown bushes right near the road with a view of the old 1930's car that had stopped right outside of Faulkner's home. We both looked at each other and then at the frail white man getting out of the car in an old tweed suit and a Fedora hat. He surveyed the area, made sure everything was secure, stood there a little longer as if he knew we were hiding from him and then drove off as quiet as he came. Taillights vanished into a thin mist. The car disappeared and the wind breeze was cold. All I could see was the pupil in Erika's eyes. My arm hairs were standing straight up. She whispered that she thought that was William Faulkner's ghost. I knew it was William' Faulkner's ghost.

We escaped from the bushes and headed back downtown to the Square. Thankful we were alive to tell our daring yet innocent story, we treated ourselves to a Peach Bellini at Old Venice Pizza Co. We were able to get a coveted spot on the balcony that overlooked the town square. It was the perfect ending to our adventure.

The next month was graduation, bittersweet. I loved my time at Ole Miss. The traditions, my friends, the honor of going to "the Harvard of the South"....

In between the graduation ceremony and graduation dinner, my family and I went to William Faulkner's home. For a minute, I felt something, a presence...but it passed quickly. Just like my time at Ole Miss.