I’m not sure what my fascination with the Salem Witch Trials is about. I think it probably has something to do with the fact that we will never truly know what happened. Despite all the accounts, they each come from a very different point of view, making it hard to discern fact from fiction.
I’ve always believed in there being more than meets the eye. And that fact has many times made me feel a bit like I’ve been more on the outside looking in. For, as we grow older we are taught to stop believing in things like magic, fairy tales, and secret worlds.
I guess I could never truly let go of those childhood beliefs, and for that I think I’ve found a lot of happiness. It’s more fun for me to wonder what else exists outside of my knowledge, than it is for me to assume I know all there is to know.
So when I learn about the witch trials, while I am horrified and saddened by what happened, I also have to wonder if it was only petty and fearful humans at work. Most of the time, that is the answer to most of our world’s troubles. Every time, though? I’m not sure.
Regardless, I remember the women and men who were killed with a quiet solemnity, and a humble reverence. Even though we may never know the whole story of that dark part of the past, it will always remain a haunting skeleton in our country’s closet.
