WHERE IS ROCK SPRINGS?
People ask all the time. Well, this is why I’m making this blog.
Published on 08/21/2018 | Author: Charlie Neil
Hello world. Look, I know that blogs are outdated, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and Twitter are all more popular, whatever.
I can’t use those, not for this. Things are too strange here to risk the public reaction from my peers, I know there’d be too much fallout, we fear overreactions here; but, I have to tell someone.
I guess I’ll start with some background.
I’m from Rock Springs, Wyoming. Born and raised in the deserted center of Flaming Gorge County in the least populated state in America. The only things we have are Pacificorp’s Jim Bridger Power Plant and the ghosts of the coal mines the town was built around.
From the sky Rock Springs is a smudge of dusty roads, a tangle in the string of interstate which continues from here in a straight line for one hundred and fifty miles in either direction.
Talking with anyone from other places, the question always arises, ‘where’s Rock Springs?’ Take out a map, stupid. Of course I don’t tell them that, some people don’t even know where Wyoming is.
I’m not writing this to rant about Rock Springs, or even to tell the melancholy tale of growing up in a town of 23,000 souls in the middle of nowhere.
The thing is, there’s something… wrong here in Rock Springs.
Ever since I was a kid, our missing person rates have been abnormally high, people have a tendency to
My sister was one of them.
That’s why I’m making this blog. I’ve decided it’s time to cast off the veil of ignorance and acceptance. Things aren’t like this in other places, it’s not even like this in Green River ten miles away. This isn’t normal, and the investigation starts now.
I need a record of what’s happening. Something down in writing so in the off-chance (and let’s be real, the chances aren’t ‘off’), that things get, well, bad, then I’ve got my tracks down in writing.
My name is Charlie Neil, and I’m going to find out what is going on here, no matter the consequences.