From an anonymous source:
My dad took me, my sis, and some neighborhood kids to spend the night at The Devil’s Circle. I was 10-12 years old. Late 1970’s. Not a compelling experience. But definitely a creepy one. And one I’ll never forget!
The fire is roaring, and we all were sitting and talking when a long haired, handsome guy, along with his girlfriend(?) came up upon the camp. The girls said nothing the entire time. They came directly out of the woods. Not from the adjacent road as you would think. The thick dark woods. Who is strolling around the deep dark woods where you can’t see where you’re walking?
He carried a bag, which contained a bottle of orange juice. He said hello and offered us some. We all said no, and he initiated some conversation. Small talk. At one point out of the blue, he pulled a gun from his waistband and said: “Hope you don’t mind if I pull this out”. My father, an Ex-Marine, also pulled his gun from his waistband. ‘No I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that I pull mine out’.
The couple stayed for roughly an hour or so if memory service. Finally they got up, bid us farewell, and exited back into the woods.
Later that night, everyone was asleep and it was only my Dad and myself.
Around 2am, we noticed the sounds of the country-cows mooing, crickets chirping, and scurrying creatures in the woods.
In a heartbeat, the sounds stopped. I looked up at my dad, who was afraid of nothing, and asked what was going on? He frighteningly looked at myself and said it was just because the cows were being taken in to be milked. At 2 in the am? Whatever.
But it didn’t account for the other sounds which had stopped, but I didn’t say anything. It was a dead, eerie quiet. I will never forget that.
As the sun came up, my dad woke everyone up and we went home.
I don’t know who that was that came into The Circle that night, but it sure was fucking creepy.
Years later when my Dad grew ill and I was spending more time with him at home, he brought up that night in conversation. He said, ‘Happen to remember what that long haired guy was wearing? His T-Shirt?’ Of course I didn’t, I was too young, and shrugged. Dad replied ‘He was wearing a t-shirt that said 9/11 – Never Forget.’. My jaw dropped, goosebumps grew like wildflower on me. This was 1978 or ’79. ‘Are you sure?’ I asked. Dad said, ‘Oh I’m certain, because I kept my eye on his chest the entire time. Remember he had pulled a gun, as I did, and if I had to use it, wanted to make sure I had a good aiming point!’
That place keeps its own secrets.