The Halton Mine Incident

This past weekend, I found a Spectator article from 1955. Supposedly 6 teenagers disappeared in the woods behind the mine, never to be seen again. Later that year, the Halton Copper Company declared bankruptcy. I am hoping you will know something about this mine. Articles, stories, rumors. Anything at all.

Attached is a copy of Janet’s therapy journal I got from the OPP. I don’t expect it to be much help, but just in case.

Please keep this between us.

Dr. Anders Svenssen, M.D.

[Start of Journal]

September 23rd, 1988

Sleep: 8 hours, refreshed

Mood: elated

Anders,

I had coffee with Dale. His new toy is a 27-hectare piece of uninhabited forestland west of Milton. He bought it with the ‘small’ fortune he made in last year’s market crash. With the environmental cleanup charge, he paid double the market price. Unbelievable! All that success must have gone to his head. But knowing Dale, he can squeeze money out of stone. 

On paper it's an abandoned WWII-era underground copper mine, but Dale believes it's a secret codebreaker center. Of course the records are lost. He says there could be old encryption machines worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. He’s got a team already: himself, a scientist, and two collectors. My job would be to get them through the forest, keep them safe from rain and bears, and get them out. He’ll split 15% of the profit with us along with an ‘honorarium’ of a thousand bucks per person per day.

You'd think it's a no-brainer, but I told him I'd think about it. I'm feeling apprehensive about the whole thing. I don’t know what it is. He says I don’t have to go inside the mine, which made me feel better. I think I also have a fear of confined spaces. We can discuss this next time.

Or maybe I’m just jealous of his success. You always say that.

See you Wednesday.

Janet

...Three grand for a three-day camping trip, Jesus!

~~~♥~~~

October 2nd, 1988

Sleep: decent

Mood: annoyed

Anders,

Dale dropped off satellite photos and survey maps of the property. I took your advice to be more prepared and drove out to Halton by myself. Cross my I’s and dot my t’s, you know? The trailhead is an hour and a half on the 401 from Toronto, then 20 minutes northwest on the gravel road Concession Line 9. From there it's supposed to be a day’s hike. 

I parked the Chevy off the shoulder. The trail is passable for the stroller-carts (and four city slickers). It must have been later than I thought because it got quite dark on the trail. The dim light and chill made me feel uneasy for a little while. Gave me the fucking creeps. I had to take a few minutes to collect myself. Once the sun came out again, I realized I was being ridiculous. But it’s not unreasonable to be a bit afraid, since I was alone. See, I’m learning to identify emotional reasoning. 

It took me only two hours to reach the property line, and another half hour to the mine. Dale’s survey map was good for nothing. I did some bushwacking and forded a tiny creek but it was mostly flat walking. If you’re wondering what a copper mine looks like, it's a square concrete tunnel sticking out of the side of a mountain. That plus rusty doors.

Living in the city has made me afraid of the woods. That’s so silly, right? I’ll schedule a session with you this weekend.

~~~♥~~~

October 21st, 1988

Sleep: 7.5 hours + coffee

Mood: tired

Uneventful hike. We made camp by 4 PM at the entrance. 

I’m sitting by the spotlight in my tent as I write this. The tarps kept the drizzle out as we cooked. We ate low-fat KD with bacon, and fresh fruit for dessert. Dale’s chipper today. John and his wife Mary (the collectors) went around the entrance with a metal detector. They said any coins from the 40s could be worth quite a bit. They’re really into this trip.

The “scientist”, Xinny Leung, is a bit of an old conspiracy nut. He’s the one that convinced Dale that the mine isn’t a mine. Gave me some long-winded story about how his uncle had liaised Hong Kong with Bletchley Park. He overheard the name of this place. Sounds like anxious paranoia, right? I’ll give him your number.

Tomorrow they’ll go in and catalogue all the stuff. I brought everyone walkie-talkies just in case. Last time the doors were chained shut, so I packed bolt cutters. You’re right, being prepared helps a lot.

~~~♥~~~

October 22nd, 1988

Sleep: 6 hours

Mood: uneasy

Just got a ping from Dale to come quickly. He found the room and he needs the second cart. He says it's not a codebreaker center but a neutrino observatory. I told him to come and get the damn thing himself and we argued over the walkie-talkie. 

You will ask me why I argued. This is stupid, but I am dreading the inside of the mine. When they cut the lock this morning a gust of air came out and it smelled like spoiled eggs. I got the chills imagining the mine leading directly into hell. It's also very dark inside. I know, what I’m feeling is a natural response to confined spaces and the unknown. It's just an old tunnel.

I’m bringing you with me so I can write everything, as you told me to. 

Situations. Thoughts. Reactions.

***

I gave myself a big scare. It’s so dark in here. The flashlight I have isn’t bright enough to see anything so I was feeling around as I walked. About 5 minutes in, I touched something soft and wet and screamed like a little girl. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

It was moss. The mine is just a long and narrow hallway bored into the mountain. It’s pitch dark and unnaturally cold but it's just a tunnel.

***

 I must have walked for 20 minutes nonstop to get to the double door at the end of the tunnel, so I understand why Dale didn’t want to make the trip back just to grab the cart. I apologized to him. 

I’m eating a bologna sandwich on a dusty table in this ‘Halton District Neutrino Reactor Observatory’. It’s a large room, maybe 30 ft by 50 ft. Our two portable spotlights are keeping the room well lit. There’s a buttons-and-displays panel on the wall at the very end, and an analog number flipper stuck on ‘1’. A glass screen along the wall, with a metal sheet behind it. Six-foot wide worktables. Binders and papers strewn everywhere. It looks like this was once a big operation, and one day they just left. 

 I really like Mary and John. They have great synergy. John is excitedly pressing the buttons along the wall and they click like typewriter keys. The panic had worn off. I feel perfectly normal. We’ll be done by the afternoon at this pace.

***

Dale’s pissed there’s no enigma machines for him to sell. My head hurts from the bitching.

***

 Situation: I decided to open the door and look outside, but I couldn’t see the tiny light at the other end. I distinctly remember seeing the light of the exit as I came in. 

 There’s a shiver across my back right now. You’ll tell me anxiety is making me feel like this. Probably right. It’s just past 6 PM. It would be darker outside so I shouldn’t expect the same amount of light.

The papers are loaded into the first cart. The stationery, drafting tools, computer parts, tubes, etc, into the second. The collectors are still taking their photos. We’ll leave soon.

***

I’m so confused. We’ve been walking for an hour and I don’t see the exit. Dale says we’re slow because of the weight of the carts. He’s right. Still, I don’t see any light past the range of the spotlights. I am ruminating that we took the wrong way and we are lost, but that’s nonsense, the tunnel is straight with no branches.

We’re taking a water break. Everyone is tired.

***

I must have misjudged the distance on my way in. Dale and Xinny say we’re almost out. We’re taking a second break now. They’re just chatting. I will ask if my watch is wrong.

No. 8:10 just confirmed.

I really want to know. Did it take them this long to get in? I won’t ask, because I know it's just me being me.

Reaction: I feel a sense of dread creeping up my spine. It tingles and it's awful. I’ve been walking in the middle of the group because I can’t stand being exposed. It feels as if this tunnel is trying to eat me alive. The walls are so cold. I regret leaving the Xanax in the tent (I know you said not to take them).

***

The big lamp burnt out and we’re still nowhere near the exit, so we’re eating dinner in the tunnel. Sandwiches and granola. I pulled Mary aside and told her I’m feeling like something is wrong. She said it's normal, and we’ll be out soon.

I am not the crazy one. Mary admitted that it’s taking a lot longer than she remembers, so that’s proof. I suggested we backtrack to the observatory because we clearly made a mistake. Maybe we left through the wrong door. Dale says we’ll be outside soon.

Situation: I am eating dinner in a tunnel. Thought: we are trapped in some kind of underground maze and my group is delusional about everything. You will say this usually means that I am delusional. When nobody but Janet is panicking, she’s anxious. If you are right, Anders, then I am beyond help.

When you read this page, it will seem all so silly. I’m losing it.

***

 I don't know what came over me. I stood my ground and told them I won’t take another step. Dale called me an idiot. I told him he can walk all night if he wants, but as far as I’m concerned we’re going the wrong way. And they just fucking left me. That was 20 minutes ago. I watched them leave. I can’t see the spotlight anymore but I can still hear the carts. I’m not scared, I’m angry. 

Five fucking hours in here. I’m going back to the observatory room and leaving through the actual exit. I’ll call for help. Or maybe I’ll leave them in here.

***

 The watch says 4 AM. It’s dark as fuck in here. It's so quiet I can hear my own blood flowing. Woosh. Woosh. You can’t imagine how eerie it is in an abandoned tunnel in the center of a mountain. It’s really cold too. I’m shivering all over. The flashlight didn’t do much, but I did get back to the observatory. I pushed a table against the door and that made me feel better. My head is killing me. I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes, then head for the tent. I don’t think I can stand another second in the tunnel.

~~~♥~~~

October 23, 1988

Sleep: mild headache

Mood: 

The first thing I do is this therapy journal, Anders. I hope you’re happy.

I’ll keep it short: It's 8:15. Must be AM. I fell asleep and slept the whole night here. It’s hard to tell time when it's pitch dark. And before you ask, no, I didn’t dream of anything. I don’t know how I’m feeling. Except for the cold. It feels like my bones have frozen solid. And, I’m really thirsty and I’m dying to see daylight again. 

Clear your calendar. I’m gonna need a hundred make-up sessions after this.

***

What I know: I walked for another 40 minutes. There is only one exit from the observatory. The tunnel is perfectly straight. It took less than a half hour to get here. A tunnel does not magically get longer.

What I don’t know: Did we go through a branch in the tunnel? Did I misremember the distance? It should be a sunny day, so where the hell is the light?

I’m not hallucinating. I can operate the flashlight. I can see my hands. I can touch the cold, damp wall. I can see and hear the ticking of the second hand of my watch. I‘m not anxious. Not having a panic attack right now. I think I had a panic attack last night when I left the group. God damn it, Janet. Again with this shit.

I must have misremembered the distance on the way in. It’s okay. Search and rescue is coming any minute now. What do I say when I see Dale? “Sorry for yelling at you, Dale. Now pay me.” Stupid stupid.

***

Tripped and broke my fucking watch. RIP at 9:35. That means three more hours to go. They wouldn’t have S&R this quickly since there’s no cellular reception out here. They had to hike all the way back to the road, which takes a day.

On the bright side: flashlight still works. 

Get it?

***

I have a major headache out of nowhere. Flashlight is really dim so I’ve been saving it for the journal. Yes, I’m this invested in our therapy plan. You can write a paper about me later.

Situation: haven’t eaten or drunk anything since last night, still stuck in a tunnel.

Thought: so dark and so quiet, sometimes I hear groundwater flowing and I think they’re whispers.

Reaction: keep walking.

~~~♥~~~

October ??, 1988

Sleep:

Mood:

I don’t know what’s going on. I must have passed out. The watch says 11:35. I remember breaking it, but it's moving and ticking. I know I imagined the whispers because I don’t hear them anymore. It’s another panic attack. I will take 5 Xanax when I get out so if I forget everything that happened, refer to this damn journal.

Now that I’m more awake, I think it was all a fucking dream. I fell asleep in the tunnel because I’ve slept like shit since Thursday. I dreamt of waking up in the observatory. Yes Anders I am really fucked up. My head hurts so much but I should get going.

***

I can finally see the exit. Literally as I remembered it, a little pinkie-sized circle of light. What was that, 20 minutes? I’m exhausted. Just gonna close my eyes and sit for a bit. 

***

FUCK. No more flashlight. I write big so you can see. Almost there. Just need a break.

I hear voices. Maybe footsteps. S&R?

***

They’re whispering my name. 

It’s just a hallucination. 

A panic attack. 

No no no NO! 

They’re touching me. 

Something grabbed my arm. 

They’re not people. 

Stop. 

It’s not real. 

IT'S.

NOT.

REAL.

[End of Journal]