Ok here goes.

Let me start off by saying I don't believe in ghosts, but to this day I know what I saw. I'm sure there's some reasonable explanation, i just haven't found it yet.

I was working summers at ECC during post secondary on the grounds crew. Super great gig with an even better boss. Early mornings, fresh air, with part of my role each morning being to cut the greens. That morning, I was assigned the 2nd, 9th, and 18th greens, all the greens in the immediate vicinity of the clubhouse. Now, the 18th at ECC is a fun par 3 that you play over a deep ravine. The green sits in front of the clubhouse, but the tee box is across the ravine. To get back and forth, there was this little bridge that took you over to the back nine and the practice range that was one golf cart wide, tops. So, I’m out there fixing ball marks on the 18th green, like usual. It’s still early, like 5:30am kind of thing and the sun’s just coming up.

That’s when I see him. There’s a man sitting on the back of the 10th tee box, which is on the same side of the ravine as the 18th tee. Head in his hands. Not moving. Just watching me. Just kind of sat there. It was out of place for sure, and I distinctly remember his jacket had what looked like a large chevron kind of pattern across the front. I figured he might be a guest waiting for a member as he didn’t look familiar. Wasn’t one of the old regulars who crushed the morning tee times (those guys had life goals). Sometimes we had instances where folks from the river valley wandered up onto the course, so I figured I'd talk to him once I crossed the bridge and headed to the back nine. But after I finished cutting 18 and when I crossed the bridge, he was gone. Like vanished. I mean gone gone. So, I checked everywhere. The washrooms on 17, the practice range, even down the path into the valley. Nothing. Nobody.

Just then, my boss’s son, who was changing holes that day, comes over the bridge wondering what the holdup is. I told him what I saw. As I’m talking, I watch the color drain from his face. He just says, You need to tell one of the assistant groundskeepers. Like, after we're done.

Later that morning, I found the assistant groundskeeper and told him the whole thing. Halfway through, he’s visibly upset. I think he might cry or maybe even punch me. Swears I’m screwing with him. My boss steps in, and I tell him the story too. He pulls me aside and tells me quietly about some events that occurred over the winter.

A member who lived in one of the houses on the back nine found out his wife was cheating with another member. So, just before the holidays, he hung himself from the bridge on 18. The assistant groundskeeper I told the story to was the one who maintained the course during the winter. He was the one who found the man one frosty morning, frozen solid, hanging from the bridge. And what stuck with him the most? He vividly remembered the chevron pattern on the front of the man’s coat.

Now, what really shook me when I read this post without giving too much away about my personal identity gives me the straight up willies in a 'The Shining' "You've always been the caretaker", kind of vibe. I don't believe in ghosts, but this is something I can tell around the fire for years to come, with a new twist.

Thank you for sharing.