tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89290230248916271742024-03-12T21:02:11.106-04:00Fantom PhactoryTales of Terror and Music MayhemAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-57503289121749544872015-07-18T15:59:00.000-04:002015-07-18T15:59:40.328-04:00Revenge of the Robot: Son of Robot Released<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJzi1Izfs0uLh7hUBn7VIBclKMlTf5bLLv7h7wjjjb7Ola-B_Nm4qHOfaU9H_T_Kcv7em1d8NEgBYb8OPlC0s_5KZdO2KCxOFhzv_mbolxJdkjeXEfZvd9PhoyuWeDdP2-bZiQ0-n7srz/s1600/Son+of+Robot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Revenge of the Robot" border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoJzi1Izfs0uLh7hUBn7VIBclKMlTf5bLLv7h7wjjjb7Ola-B_Nm4qHOfaU9H_T_Kcv7em1d8NEgBYb8OPlC0s_5KZdO2KCxOFhzv_mbolxJdkjeXEfZvd9PhoyuWeDdP2-bZiQ0-n7srz/s320/Son+of+Robot.jpg" title="Son of Robot 3.0" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Old Robot Dead - Long Live New Robot</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Revenge of the Robot: Son of Robot 3.0 Released</b><br />
<br />
Digging in the vault of broken parts and dusty vibes, we found the extended version of TeknoGeek's The Robot (2009). The Robot 2.0 (also known as The Robot Returns) was a variation but this recent discovery extends the song into another "realm".<br />
<br />
Hence, the song which crawls out of the original would be aptly called "<i>Son of Robot 3.0.</i>"<br />
<br />
Alternative title is "<b><i>Revenge of the Robot</i></b>". It's pretty cool, especially with the added segue of the intro music to "<b><i><a href="https://www.reverbnation.com/fantomphactory/song/13528644-son-of-dr-pumpkinstein-theme" target="_blank">Son of Pumpkinstein Theme</a></i></b>".<br />
<br />
We remixed and remastered and this instrumental for optimum result. Face it, in a highly tech world and the emergence of AI, a robot going mad is a frightening thing. Many robots wreak havoc (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klaatu_barada_nikto" target="_blank"><b>Klaatu Barada Nikto</b></a>, anyone? Gort are you still out there?). Not all were lovable like the robot from <b><a href="http://whatcha-playin.blogspot.com/2014/12/robot-from-lost-in-space-sings-in.html" target="_blank">Lost In Space</a></b> who played a good nemesis to <a href="https://youtu.be/jfh-YY465HA" target="_blank">Dr. Smith</a>. He (the Robot) was more lovable than Robbie the Robot.<br />
<br />
Most of the <a href="http://whatcha-playin.blogspot.com/2009/08/scary-hip-dance-music.html" target="_blank"><b>TeknoGeek GoonSquad</b></a> songs (soundtracks) were to be chapters in their story relating to the discovery of the Robot, going to Seattle, plotting to kidnap Jimmy Page, and discovery an old cassette player which had a tape that plays screams of the dead. Pretty frightening.<br />
<br />
Most of the various TeknoGeek story lines were lost, but we do have this song below.<br />
<br />
<div class="widget_iframe" style="border: 0; display: inline-block; height: 104px; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%;">
<iframe class="widget_iframe" frameborder="0" height="100%" scrolling="no" src="https://www.reverbnation.com/widget_code/html_widget/artist_2649825?widget_id=50&posted_by=artist_2649825&pwc[design]=default&pwc[background_color]=%23333333&pwc[included_songs]=0&pwc[song_ids]=23952845&pwc[photo]=0%2C1&pwc[size]=fit" width="100%"></iframe><br />
<div class="footer_branding" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; margin-top: -5px;">
<center>
<a href="http://www.reverbnation.com/band-promotion/how-to-sell-music-on-itunes?utm_campaign=a_features_distribution&utm_medium=widget&utm_source=HTML5_Player&utm_content=widgetfooter_Sell%20your%20beats%20online%20at%20ReverbNation.com" style="color: #444444; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Sell your beats online at ReverbNation.com</a></center>
</div>
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<br />
This tune is available for purchase at Reverbnation.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comDetroit, MI, USA42.331427 -83.045753842.143674499999996 -83.3684773 42.5191795 -82.7230303tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-802228393464934742014-10-29T01:07:00.000-04:002014-10-29T01:12:57.929-04:00Fright Night at the Terror Tunnel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/zrPej4AqUHk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<h2>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Fright Night at the Terror Tunnel.</span></b></h2>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It appears out of nowhere, especially in long hallways, tunnels and large rooms. </span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It doesn't matter if it is daylight or midnight, or summer or winter.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You just need to walk down a corridor or stairwell and it appears out of nowhere and spins in your direction carrying you to a frightful place.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here you will see horrible things. Here you will hear horrible sounds. Here you will smell horrible stench. Here you will feel horrible things. All this is beyond skeletons and ghosts and goblins and witches. And beyond normal fears during Halloween because there is no escape.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When you experience such horror, you feed its "fright hunger". You become a part of the horror. The horror is a part of you that cannot be separated.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From this point on, you are the one who frightens new victims with your own horrible sight, your own horrible sounds, your own horrible stench, and your own horrible being.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You empower the Terror Tunnel so it may grow and appear at many unsuspecting locations at unusual times. You spin out of control with it sucking in innocent people who cannot escape its - your - vortex.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The new victims become a part of you - The Terror Tunnel.</span></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-89180583830292036222014-10-08T14:01:00.000-04:002014-10-08T14:01:32.286-04:00Emily - Our Neighborhood Ghost<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPwomwnJvsost72dd5Qxl5kOQRTHNPUCPLqDehzn_hCdme3IuE7ANLXUHYii4u0u7sf5v2DwQJx7mpTQ0dmpLt5ukD7pTnngQJLliGezoG_Ee9kKP2rmNANTZI6gpUj3k3F_RPmnuy5sc/s1600/Old+Haunted+House+bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPwomwnJvsost72dd5Qxl5kOQRTHNPUCPLqDehzn_hCdme3IuE7ANLXUHYii4u0u7sf5v2DwQJx7mpTQ0dmpLt5ukD7pTnngQJLliGezoG_Ee9kKP2rmNANTZI6gpUj3k3F_RPmnuy5sc/s1600/Old+Haunted+House+bw.jpg" height="240" title="Emily's House" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emily's Old House</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Growing up in an older neighborhood you see many people moving in and moving out. You see "<b>For Sale</b>" all over the place as the population continued to move our to the suburbs. Not everyone moved out however.<br />
<br />
Emily was a widow who was set to live out the rest of her life in her old house. There was no tale of terror or horror about her husband's death. He died on his vacation to Florida.<br />
<br />
<b>Car accident</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>Instant death</b>.<br />
<br />
Well, Emily was a strong woman and decided to deal with her husband's death by taking care of her own life. She vowed never to drive in a car and rarely leave the house.<br />
<br />
As years went on her house became dilapidated but her resolve kept her there. All along this time, homes were demolished and new ones built and with the new ones came new neighbors.<br />
<br />
<b>Neighbors with kids</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>Kids who loved trick or treating.</b><br />
<br />
Emily didn't mind. Every year she would greet the kiddies knocking on her door. She'd make a comment about the costumes or just smile or laugh. Especially at the younger ones. Emily loved kids, although she had none of her own.<br />
<br />
It became a tradition in the neighborhood to knock on her door at Halloween. She was automatic candy to the kids. Many grown-ups started refusing to open doors or "claimed" they didn't celebrate Halloween, so Emily was a door the kids would not skip. Guaranteed candy, indeed.<br />
<br />
Yes year after year they came a-knockin'. And as the little ones got too old, soon other little took their places. Emily, though, was aging.<br />
<br />
<b>Getting feeble.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Hardly ever seen</b>.<br />
<br />
<b>One year she did not answer the door. </b><br />
<br />
<b>Another year passed and no answer from Emily.</b><br />
<br />
The house was starting to look worse than ever. Then a "<b>For Sale</b>" on her front yard.<br />
<br />
Well, Halloween arrived again. The kids knew she did not answer the door for two years. Some of them dared each other to knock on her door, as now the house looked pretty spooky, especially at dusk.<br />
<br />
Well, some brave kiddies knocked on her door. No answer. They knocked again. Getting brave, they started calling out her name.<br />
<br />
"<b><i>Emily!" "Emily! Trick or Treat!!</i></b>"<br />
<br />
<b>Then, all of a sudden,<span style="color: red;"><i> the door creaked open . . .</i></span></b><br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<b>It was Emily! </b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUaqkiPW4lz9xDuKg9zFAe4y8_D4Jk-MFNciLVIR73Z7IeTO5HBTwltSWn0Yh82MvT0iRaM3EybwzWWZN9Xo9eWEawi30lTTUOcNGVjTdQIUZKooJQmdBXYFfH5j8HLCoD_Xuqq6E5gJi/s1600/Lady+Ghost.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUaqkiPW4lz9xDuKg9zFAe4y8_D4Jk-MFNciLVIR73Z7IeTO5HBTwltSWn0Yh82MvT0iRaM3EybwzWWZN9Xo9eWEawi30lTTUOcNGVjTdQIUZKooJQmdBXYFfH5j8HLCoD_Xuqq6E5gJi/s1600/Lady+Ghost.JPG" height="300" title="Emily's Ghost" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Emily's ghost, that is.</b><br />
<br />
She died two years ago.<br />
<br />
<b>Happy Halloween Emily - Happy Halloween Everybody!</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-54106215795772089662014-02-22T21:16:00.001-05:002014-02-22T21:16:47.965-05:00Ghosts - or Optical illusion?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3FPmzEhvZKuwe51blLpWRhIs1wlz14_hjIraFifWFt7QC_aVR3yjm9Iw9opg-bzqjcCiwlhIWNOmrnbnJ8j4bdapzMLr2VznKzh1U1hZQmz5KaT6pVqO6GxAkQl8RmAVJ8Fbk3cBzw8Dt/s1600/graphics-ghosts-188047.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3FPmzEhvZKuwe51blLpWRhIs1wlz14_hjIraFifWFt7QC_aVR3yjm9Iw9opg-bzqjcCiwlhIWNOmrnbnJ8j4bdapzMLr2VznKzh1U1hZQmz5KaT6pVqO6GxAkQl8RmAVJ8Fbk3cBzw8Dt/s1600/graphics-ghosts-188047.gif" height="320" width="129" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
There has been much debate about the alleged demon haunting that occurred in Gary Indiana this year. Paranormal activity, demonic possession, exorcisms, and alas that ghost in the photo. We will be discussing that photo a bit further down but want to call your attention to the Fantom Phactory masthead.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The masthead is the big header at the top of this blog. The photo is a real, non-photo-shopped photo. Except for some illustration for the title, and the street sign, the only adjustment is in color saturation for the sky. Other than that, no drawing or pixel changes were made to this photo. The photo was taken in 2011 in Michigan, along with other angles and views. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Several people had brought to our attention that if you stare at the building from about 24 inches you can see ghosts. And to our surprise -yes! Now you can enlarge the screen but the images of the ghosts fade away and if you shrink the screen the fade as well. It's just that if you look directly at about 2 feet do you notice something.</div>
<br />
<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Do You See Any Ghosts In Our Masthead?</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><br />
</span></b> Well let's look at more ghost pictures and some optical illusions.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoh3SgxQYg-h86IWY0VDCZmckhvPPADAhJxHye04NWM3hSsMOE7fk9L9u5JOgLFH2dreExnWVN-AlzA_SywFJDV97c8LVIr3VI8QuWSXS2y_Ja7WRwBPQnrv35NKQKi1x7-KtKTqx_rbn/s1600/g-factory+2+jpeg+small.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEoh3SgxQYg-h86IWY0VDCZmckhvPPADAhJxHye04NWM3hSsMOE7fk9L9u5JOgLFH2dreExnWVN-AlzA_SywFJDV97c8LVIr3VI8QuWSXS2y_Ja7WRwBPQnrv35NKQKi1x7-KtKTqx_rbn/s1600/g-factory+2+jpeg+small.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo 1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe it's just the cones and rods in our eyes so we wanted you to look at this photo of the same building at right. Aside from making the photo sepia and adding the logo this is an untouched photo of the same building from a different angle.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do you see anything unusual? One person claims that she sees a crow and a ghost near the fire escape.</div>
<br />
<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Optical Illusion?</span></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Perhaps it's an optical illusion. If you look at our mp3 Fantom Phactory cover of "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lonely-Ghost-Fantom-Phactory/dp/B009EHYQ00" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><b>Lonely Ghost</b></span></a>" <u>at the left </u>you will notice that the red lettering gives the words "<span style="color: red;">Lonely Ghost</span>" a <span style="color: lime;">3</span><span style="color: red;">D</span> <span style="color: cyan;">effect</span>.</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqsNssBrP6gz-2vEibDJDXvYVv2HwoqbB0pLmHM5OJn0Z3qT8GVml94vTVGFjbErE9ey8w5Us3v2cUqC97ydiBsw3vTZ2-WDZdsv_ySdy_ENjWHd5G6d6j2KVspBBI_vcrZTLfFCeD_E6/s1600/g-optical1-small_4262525851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisqsNssBrP6gz-2vEibDJDXvYVv2HwoqbB0pLmHM5OJn0Z3qT8GVml94vTVGFjbErE9ey8w5Us3v2cUqC97ydiBsw3vTZ2-WDZdsv_ySdy_ENjWHd5G6d6j2KVspBBI_vcrZTLfFCeD_E6/s1600/g-optical1-small_4262525851.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration 1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, the illustration at the right is an example of an optical illusion which is stimulating those rods and cones creating a moving effect.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It looks like you are seeing a moving or vibrating grid through a circle. Ah, the magic of black and white!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The same thing happens when you look at our mp3 cover with the red letters vibrating as well. Is it possible that this type of effect is causing people to see "ghosts" on our blog masthead?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here's another optical illusion just for fun. Stare at this pic for a while. First do you see groups of white dots moving in various directions? Then, according to the artist, how many black dots can you count (obviously a trick!)</div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4FGDXNgr44zkcDtV9vB559xyclRJHbVLGy7YwvPg78dB2uOjA2pa4NJzyCjcFJmHDsr2KaZOnzPOh5ShWPqJ7Gx-0I8LRF_dlfy_dAUOFHcqam_nqGkFFnpT_bxKP7La9ojgkYVZ2UNs/s1600/g-squares1-small_94475502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy4FGDXNgr44zkcDtV9vB559xyclRJHbVLGy7YwvPg78dB2uOjA2pa4NJzyCjcFJmHDsr2KaZOnzPOh5ShWPqJ7Gx-0I8LRF_dlfy_dAUOFHcqam_nqGkFFnpT_bxKP7La9ojgkYVZ2UNs/s1600/g-squares1-small_94475502.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration 2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Similarly, there's also optical illusion art that's called "after-image". You've seen some examples on Facebook.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With this kind of illusion, you stare at a red dot on a negative image for about 30 seconds. When the time is up, you are to move your field of vision to a white square and then you see the after image.<br />
<br />
Voila! It is a full color photo of the negative. Sorry, but we did not include that type of image.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Instead, we wanted to include an oldie but a goody. It's something less strenuous on the eyes and works more on the brain. Remember the old "Is it a rabbit or is it a horse"? Well here's the old "mirror trick"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Is this a woman looking in the mirror or is it a skull?</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcSzQDcBoaj5ufNcUoO8Lc2qp13-k5NCj3-hIy_TfM2nH1R4Ys4Cb66HbOmbfWXYDWNDP8MGRQivpZBdSDny7QL9wWV22GvJaTasnjodhucsclj9QdVr2hFzERBq5mWXb9aiPaJ7_OWC_/s1600/g-skullladysmall_6088973881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcSzQDcBoaj5ufNcUoO8Lc2qp13-k5NCj3-hIy_TfM2nH1R4Ys4Cb66HbOmbfWXYDWNDP8MGRQivpZBdSDny7QL9wWV22GvJaTasnjodhucsclj9QdVr2hFzERBq5mWXb9aiPaJ7_OWC_/s1600/g-skullladysmall_6088973881.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration 3</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTSLreUIbuG5yeU8M9Q7ieX5DdIMkmeeLh1uI9nEVYMwKDvH2FNbKeD7mACF7U4ssJorQ_cUunZf0X9TFu91U45nOQTsjMDw7mCYbelUgm8QLNGU2Z2y90fkAMCByR-Com_4VVM1NUsJC/s1600/g-corner-small_5317101983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTSLreUIbuG5yeU8M9Q7ieX5DdIMkmeeLh1uI9nEVYMwKDvH2FNbKeD7mACF7U4ssJorQ_cUunZf0X9TFu91U45nOQTsjMDw7mCYbelUgm8QLNGU2Z2y90fkAMCByR-Com_4VVM1NUsJC/s1600/g-corner-small_5317101983.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration 4</td></tr>
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While you are pondering that question look at the right. It's a corner of a room or a box right?<br />
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No debate there! EXCEPT is it the inside of a corner or is it the outside of the corner?</div>
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See how the eyes can play tricks on the mind. So look at the woman at the left. Do you notice anything unusual about this classic optical illusion?</div>
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Is this skull wearing a black cloak? Hmm. Our minds can wander.<br />
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Here's a another (perhaps photo shopped) woman in the mirror to look at. Pretty creepy!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDb-ZN0yThAYSbkhbMLJDQxW7DyXFqP2n4VMwA-a20nlV_9Cw392xEGFz82vxsYfHRMPwryurp1mebEEHwF5PqfZb5Az1VFtmRcPYPNskpYKpZ72cfZiUNw5jrzRigP-c_a7y6D48bHNLB/s1600/g-ggirl+mirror-small__110841369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDb-ZN0yThAYSbkhbMLJDQxW7DyXFqP2n4VMwA-a20nlV_9Cw392xEGFz82vxsYfHRMPwryurp1mebEEHwF5PqfZb5Az1VFtmRcPYPNskpYKpZ72cfZiUNw5jrzRigP-c_a7y6D48bHNLB/s1600/g-ggirl+mirror-small__110841369.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo 2</td></tr>
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Now let's talk ghosts a bit. Our original exercise was to look at the Fantom Phactory masthead and report if you saw any ghosts. We've seen three. We've looked at the color originals and at the negatives (pretty scary negatives, btw). The building is pretty scary in and of itself. You can also read our tale about it here <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://fantomphactory.blogspot.com/2012/05/haunted-factory-still-preserved.html" target="_blank">The Haunted Factory</a>. </span>Keep in mind that this building is still standing but had been ordered to be demolished.</div>
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<b><i>Ed. note - don't forget to buy the song inspired by this freaky haunted building - "Fantom Phactory" on mp3 from Amazon. Or better yet, get the whole monstrous album!</i></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: red;"> <span style="font-size: large;">Ghosts Ghosts Everywhere Ghosts!</span></span></b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKSbysOE_66iF4ZkDdizu32VRUSy4SxS2qxA01SxacITiIAd947z2HSBfcdAXiAFuEgsUfPgccWpjRAwU5cKDphd7aCazKghXNjON3mjFE8ZLt2D0IzjFYK972fIHa65X1n4DaADnjzq7/s1600/g-Haunted+house+gary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKSbysOE_66iF4ZkDdizu32VRUSy4SxS2qxA01SxacITiIAd947z2HSBfcdAXiAFuEgsUfPgccWpjRAwU5cKDphd7aCazKghXNjON3mjFE8ZLt2D0IzjFYK972fIHa65X1n4DaADnjzq7/s1600/g-Haunted+house+gary.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo 3</td></tr>
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And speaking of spooky buildings, how about that house in Gary Indiana where the family had to move because of demonic possession and hellish apparitions! And I'm not talking bout the movie the exorcist (which is based on a true story - WOW!)</div>
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You can read more about this haunted house here: <a href="http://www.theblaze.com/stories/2014/01/27/a-real-life-demon-possession-is-being-reported-in-indiana-the-details-are-almost-too-horrifying-to-believe/" target="_blank">A <span style="color: red;">Real Life Demon Possession</span></a> and here <a href="http://www.examiner.com/article/ghost-adventures-host-zak-bagans-buys-haunted-house-indiana" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Ghost Adventures Host Zak Bagans Buys Haunted House of Gary Indiana</span></a></div>
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But here is the photo which was taken by the police department which clearly shows someone or something standing in the enclosed porch of the vacant house. That is chilling! It looks like a white statue but police claim there was none there. Perhaps our photo of the <span style="color: red;">Fantom Phactory</span> - which, too, is a real building and the photo is not photo-shopped - shares a similar ghostly or ghastly apparition.</div>
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We are sure this story is not yet finished and Zak Bagans will have something to say. <i><b><span style="color: red;">Stay tuned!</span></b></i></div>
<i>__________________________________</i><br />
<br />
Photo and illustrations credits:<br />
Photo 1 - Copyright 2012 R. Lattin used with permission.<br />
Photo 2 - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/maxbisschop/110841369/">Maxey</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a><br />
Photo 3 - Gary Indiana Police Department<br />
Illustr. 1 - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/makoy13/4262525851/">markldiaz</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a><br />
Illustr. 2 - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ninjanoodles/94475502/">NightRStar</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a><br />
Illustr. 3 - photo credit: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" ref="http://www.flickr.com/photos/museo_ilusionario/6088973881/">Museo Ilusionario</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a><br />
Illustr. 4 - <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wespeck/5317101983/">gfpeck</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">cc</a><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comDetroit, MI, USA42.331427 -83.045753842.143674499999996 -83.3684773 42.5191795 -82.7230303tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-9910564653002924692014-02-05T23:04:00.000-05:002014-02-22T09:00:13.408-05:00The Horrendous Clown Incident Part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be My Ghostly Valentine</span></div>
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<st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><b>Victoria</b></st1:place></st1:state><b> Summers<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0TmMDuTuyNW0SXpa0ZxrDbp_qAfWuZR3XmpxEE_BdGEjZosqd9N76LHLv0llYNJfRllgFzQra-obrVwEttYtiyBf6JlEqNf05gXbKZ0pRmGH6qzqGz5PyjBnf1X4kG8Nmav131Wfu8de/s1600/GHOSTLY+VALENTINE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0TmMDuTuyNW0SXpa0ZxrDbp_qAfWuZR3XmpxEE_BdGEjZosqd9N76LHLv0llYNJfRllgFzQra-obrVwEttYtiyBf6JlEqNf05gXbKZ0pRmGH6qzqGz5PyjBnf1X4kG8Nmav131Wfu8de/s1600/GHOSTLY+VALENTINE.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: small;">Be My Ghostly Valentine</span></b></td></tr>
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It’s been over 20 years ago that Fred Summers, <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state>’s husband, died. Vickie's old Aunt Mabel actually outlived Fred by 3 months. Even though Mabel and Fred did not see eye to eye, they were not adversaries. When she heard that Fred had died, she suffered a debilitating stroke and was never the same. It was how Fred died and where he died that most likely scared Mabel the most and take its toll on her.</div>
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Here is what happened: <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state> took it hard. She was young then. She arranged and had Fred cremated and buried at the city cemetery. His bronze urn was placed in a niche in a columbarium and left there. She never visited his final resting place since the funeral.</div>
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Vickie stayed down there in <st1:city w:st="on">Mobile</st1:city> and planned on selling her home in <st1:place w:st="on">Cockeysville</st1:place> after she took care of Mabel for a while. Alas, Mabel died so Vickie’s plans had changed a bit. She did not want to cremate her aunt because Mabel said that in case she is going to burn for all eternity then there’s no need to get a jump start on it. So Vickie buried her body also in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Cemetery</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Two deaths, two funeral bills - This took a toll on Vickie both emotionally and financially.</div>
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She sold Fred's old <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city> for what she could get. She took a train to <st1:city w:st="on">Baltimore</st1:city> and went back home.</div>
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<b>1986<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Vickie aged gracefully but alone. She never married and began a career as a telephone operator. Day after day, year after year she would connect callers, handle questions, and hear all kinds of things.</div>
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Well, at the end of January 1986, the weather was a little cold but Vickie had 3 weeks of vacation time earned and wanted to get a break soon, if not in January, then in February. You see, December of '85 was very hectic at the telephone company and it seemed she worked more overtime between Christmas and New Years than she did all year.</div>
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So she thought to herself, “I need to get away – go somewhere warmer.” The light bulb appeared over her head, so to speak. “I’ll go back down home and visit the cemetery, leave some flowers and buy some seeds to bring back for my planter.”</div>
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The more she thought about going the more reasons popped in her head. She made arrangement s with her employer and the week of Valentines was set. “Perfect! I’ll bring a Valentines grave decoration for Fred – I miss him so much.”<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcdit2y8M6x8EMyqTIy0HDCd-J7eU9RXukWf8_XAYphrtB-P1iflQgqvmRuG-e9Rn7uvr_rH8-oTCNFiOC1Bq-bBkAzbAQfQXVfQ173GBOI-9kQdYLCLIpPnVkjdkE4DqL3AifK79j0jtw/s1600/operator+drawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcdit2y8M6x8EMyqTIy0HDCd-J7eU9RXukWf8_XAYphrtB-P1iflQgqvmRuG-e9Rn7uvr_rH8-oTCNFiOC1Bq-bBkAzbAQfQXVfQ173GBOI-9kQdYLCLIpPnVkjdkE4DqL3AifK79j0jtw/s1600/operator+drawing.jpg" height="187" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: red;">"I’ll bring a Valentines grave <br />
decoration for Fred – I miss him so much."</span></i></span></td></tr>
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She was so excited about this that she called her friend at another cubicle to tell her. “Janey, I’m going back home and bringing a big Valentine for Fred!” Janey knew that Vickie hardly spoke of her husband but when she did, Janey saw how happy Vickie became.</div>
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“That’s wonderful Vickie! Hang up I’m coming over” and Janey hung up.</div>
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Vickie was distracted and did not hear that last sentence. “Yes I know Fred’s gone, but I still love him so much. I am going to bring a Valentine's heart for him. I wish he were alive so I can tell him!”</div>
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Then, on the other end she heard a faint “I’ll be waiting.” Just at that very moment Janey tapped on Vickie’s shoulder. Wow! She must’ve jumped 15 feet into the air. </div>
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“Relax, it's only me. Who are you talking to, Vickie?” asked Janey.</div>
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“Oh, no one, whew! – just talking to myself and going batty!”</div>
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They chatted a bit and right before Janey left she told Vickie, “I’m goin’ on break. In the meantime you better hang that up – the light is still on.”</div>
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She turned around and Vickie put the headset back on and heard strange creepy laughter. Yes, clown laughter – but they were not happy laughs, rather diabolical. </div>
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She threw off the headset, hung up and skedaddled to the break room. "I must be hearing things!" she said to herself aloud.</div>
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<b>The Train<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV17-Nwrs5EwbzDGzm6-dntqxcXYA8EGnufieHa9DyKhRZWV2K7Uyd3aEJ8Vs8Y6LagqU_JcGqaj2wMoQaqH1fXFfWQTepk088DXI-q6U7S3doM0yCDAI1TZuu6lAEAbOjZ76JLRo8cn62/s1600/ghost+train+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV17-Nwrs5EwbzDGzm6-dntqxcXYA8EGnufieHa9DyKhRZWV2K7Uyd3aEJ8Vs8Y6LagqU_JcGqaj2wMoQaqH1fXFfWQTepk088DXI-q6U7S3doM0yCDAI1TZuu6lAEAbOjZ76JLRo8cn62/s1600/ghost+train+painting.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">The train Vickie was on seemed <br />
colder than it was outside.</span></span></td></tr>
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Well, the time came for Vickie to take a train down South to visit the old homestead, Fred’s urn and Aunt Mabel’s grave.</div>
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Even though it was chilly, the train Vickie was on seemed colder than it was outside. All in all, there were only about five other people in her car but they did not seem too happy. One of those passengers got up and sat next to <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state>.</div>
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“Hello, ma’am. I hope you don’t mind me sitting next to ya?” the stranger, in his late 30’s, asked her.</div>
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“Well, you’ve done sit already so you might as well stay put. Goin’ to <st1:place w:st="on">Mobile</st1:place>?” she questioned.</div>
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“Unfortunately, yes. It’s a business matter but I reckon it won’t bother you if I tell you would it? Oh, by the way my name is Ozro Green, what’s yours?” he said politely.</div>
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“My name is Victoria Summers, but you can call me Vickie. So, uh, what is this business matter of yours if you don’t mind my askin’?” she replied and inquired.</div>
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“Well, I’m a writer and got a contract for a major newspaper – and I won’t say where – to investigate the Horrendous Clown Incident of 1952 for a book and article I’m writing. I’ve been going back and forth to <st1:city w:st="on">Mobile</st1:city> writing about this and want to put this story to an end and start on my other project, which may have ties somehow to this story,” he explained.</div>
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Well Vickie was taken aback. She could not believe what she had heard and deep down did not want to hear anything about this. As far as she was concerned, since Fred died, so did that ghost story. She debated in her mind whether she should tell this writer anything and everything or nothing at all. She decided to play dumb and excuse her reaction.</div>
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“Sho is gettin‘ cold in here ain’t it?” she asked as diversion. </div>
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“You are very right about that. It’s like a ghost climbed aboard and brought some demons from Hell to taunt us. No, actually, it’s quite warm. Well, we’ve got many hours of travel, so I’ll go back to my seat and let you be,” he said to her getting up.</div>
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She then asked out of curiosity, “Oh before you go, what was that other project you were talkin’ about?”</div>
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H turned around. “Oh, new details, even ghostly occurrences related to <b>The Hammond Circus Train Wreck of 1918. </b>Somehow there is a connection between that strange disaster and the Clown Incident so right now it is a little fuzzy. For now, I need to go down to Mobile to gather some old newspaper clippings, get a few snapshots, maybe see some police reports, and finish the writing." </div>
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<b>In <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Mobile</st1:place></st1:city><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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After a long delay in <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> due to a severe storm, the train made its way to <st1:place w:st="on">Mobile</st1:place>. The <st1:place w:st="on">Mobile</st1:place> area was unusually cold this year so it wasn’t the warm climate Vickie had originally hoped for, but nonetheless she got away from work and was able to get a chance to do something different. </div>
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Vickie got her room and planned her Valentine’s Day visit. But before she could do anything she had to go back to the train station to arrange for her ticket back. She did not buy round trip; perhaps she had too much on her mind. </div>
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At the station, she was told that there is no train direct to <st1:city w:st="on">Baltimore</st1:city>. She was furious, “Then how did I get here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The ticket agent replied, “Ma’am, I don’t know how you got here but I do know that there is no train direct to <st1:city w:st="on">Baltimore</st1:city>. Years ago there was but not now. Why don’t you just fly?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Not knowing he meant fly by plane, Vickie took it as an insulting remark and said, “Why don’t you fly yourself!” And she huffed out of there vowing that she will somehow get a train back to <st1:state w:st="on">Maryland</st1:state> just to spite him. "I will get a train back if it's the last thing I do!" she yelled on the sidewalk in front of the station.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie went back to her motel room and got settled in. She made her plans:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
1. Buy seed for her planter at home</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
2. Buy a Valentines heart wreath for Fred’s urn</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
3. Visit Aunt Mabel’s grave and say a word or two for her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
4. Pick up a cheeseburger and malt at the dime store</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
5. Avoid running into Ozro Green, lest he find out who she is</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Well, the next day was St. Valentine's Day. Vickie woke up with tears in her eyes. The love of her life is dead and she has really nothing to live for. All she has is her job as an operator. She is just living day to day and knows one day she will join Fred.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She called a cab that picked her up and the driver asked her, “Where to ma’am?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Oh, where can I buy some flower seed? Is there a hardware store here?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ma’am this is <st1:city w:st="on">Mobile</st1:city>, there’s plenty.” He replied.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Good, I need to go to the hardware store for some seed, then to the city cemetery, and you can wait for me and then to the dime store so I can buy a burger and then take me back to the motel. How’s that for a fair?” she asked him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, first of all, ma’am, the dime store, all dime stores are gone. Woolworth's, Kresge, Jupiter. Even Ben Franklin. They're all gone. All the big super markets took over. There’s plenty of Wal-Mart’s. There are some dollar stores, like 'Dollar Bills'” he explained to her while driving slowly, looking at her in his rear view mirror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I guess I am living in the past. I’m living in the past every time I come here, which isn’t too often. Just take me to the city cemetery office, thanks.” She elaborated briefly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Cemetery<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2Q0_VY-MTRIsYs1ZleC-y21VxKSEehHJ4QwS5IBZsFkgnMX-YJ9Lvofl0dnuJmbgaJYABz1ZVwx97Az3eG6itsESd0UFyohq8vriunIVUBmEfnOhYCXwqnMjXqy8eAvt3m5qcJbMGFbh/s1600/Cemetery+bowl+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2Q0_VY-MTRIsYs1ZleC-y21VxKSEehHJ4QwS5IBZsFkgnMX-YJ9Lvofl0dnuJmbgaJYABz1ZVwx97Az3eG6itsESd0UFyohq8vriunIVUBmEfnOhYCXwqnMjXqy8eAvt3m5qcJbMGFbh/s1600/Cemetery+bowl+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: red;">"Vandals had broken into the cemetery last <br />
August and desecrated some graves."</span></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</st1:placetype></st1:place><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And so the cabbie took her to the cemetery sales office. She got out and the cab stayed there waiting while she went in and to purchase a plastic Valentines heart shaped wreath – a decoration small enough to be placed in front of Fred’s urn in the columbarium. She then proceeded to ask for the grave location of Aunt Mabel as she had forgotten what garden she was buried in. After getting that information she told the desk clerk that she wanted to know how long the decoration will stay on Fred’s spot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She, the desk clerk, replied inquisitively, “It will remain there until Easter time when we then dump all old decorations and put up Easter decorations and flowers. Did you want to keep the decoration before it is dumped in Easter? You’d have to come and pick it up yourself.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“No, I don’t think I’ll be coming back. This will probably be the last time I see Fred.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At that moment, the desk clerk’s mouth opened and she asked, “Fred Summers?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie said yes and cocked her head looking like a human question mark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I am so sorry Mrs. Summers. Vandals had broken into the cemetery last August and desecrated some graves. We later noticed that your husband’s cremation niche in the columbarium was opened and the urn missing . . .” she was explaining this when all of a sudden Vickie almost collapsed as if her own heart had sunk to the floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The clerk helped her to a chair and and asked if she was OK. Vickie nodded and the clerk asked if she would like some water. Vickie said no. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The clerk continued, “It was the strangest thing because we didn’t notice it right away. In any event, we had tried to contact you, but the mail was undeliverable and your phone was disconnected. We had no way to contact you or any other relatives.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie, after regaining her composure, responded, “Oh I am sorry. Poor Fred! I never received any mail because I had moved from our home to a small apartment. I never got a phone. You see, I’m a telephone operator and I’m on the phone 40 hours a week. I don’t need to be on the phone at home. After all, I have no family left to call.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The clerk felt sorry for Vickie. Day after day this clerk dealt with funerals and burials and grieving families. She was touched by Vickie’s sadness and said, “You know I’m gonna close the office early today. I see you have a cab out there waiting. Send him on his way. I’ll take you back to your room if you want or drop you off. I’m going get out of here also because some gentleman keeps pestering me about some crime.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie, grateful, said, ”Okay we’ll send that cab off. Who’s this guy that keeps a-pesterin’?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The clerk, whose name was Josie Shaffer, said, “I don’t remember his name – hmmm. He said he was-a comin’ as soon as he gets a cab.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I guess I got the only available cab. Hey cabbie . . .” she called to the driver “This kind lady will bring me back. Here’s your fare and tip. You can go.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The cabbie replied, “OK ‘cause I got another call to bring someone right back here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well you do just that. Just don’t tell him the office will be closed by time he gets here, ha ha he. At least that way you can get the extra fare from him,” said Josie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Then Josie said, “Let me lock up and we’ll be on our way. Keep your heart for now and later on I’ll get the groundskeeper to put up a temporary heart at the niche for you. Again, I am so sorry. By the way, I do remember the name of that feller – Green . . . Oswald Green or somethin’”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Ozro Green. I met him on the train. You know . . . .here’s the funny thing about this – the ticket clerk at the train station said there was no train from <st1:city w:st="on">Baltimore</st1:city> to <st1:city w:st="on">Mobile</st1:city>. Yet Ozro Green and me were on the same train.” Vickie revealed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, I just don’t know. "I could’ve sworn he said he just flew in from up North and that he needed to come look at some burial records for his book, “ stated Josie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Flew in? He sat down – right next to me . . . on the coldest train I’ve ever been on, “ Vickie stated with surprise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, Mrs. Summers, maybe you flew in and didn’t know. Maybe he came in on a train and he didn’t know. But all I know is you’re both here and you and me better drive off before this guy shows up and asks me to re-open the office, “ Josie reasoned.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And off they went. Vickie noticed that Josie was driving a <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city> and briefly mentioned that Fred used to have a <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city>. Then thinking about the stolen urn <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state> had an idea.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Josie, I am much obliged that you are taking me back and wanted to ask a bit of a favor, considerin’ I have no idea where my husband’s ashes are, “ Vickie said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Josie told her to go on. “If it isn’t too far off the beaten path, there’s a dirt road short cut that actually goes past where my husband suffered a heart attack. Since you'll be puttin' a temporary decoration on Fred's niche, maybe I can at least leave this Valentine heart there to mark where he died?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Vickie, I will do that for you. I know where you are talking about as rumors were spread about the whole incident that happened back then. I never believed any of it. The story kept changing. Anyways, the dirt road is blacktop now; it’s no big deal,” Josie said with compassion agreeing to drive there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Ozro Green and the Cabbie<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQgdoS9BBw9I0_Z5Ez9VaOwCdXXlM5LhyFIEMNJr4sbqWi7JFz_weYZUzk_XGfnZpVmZifGAyy1mHP8Xu4e9q0OclcQgPYMjvgGajGWzy8Wc_of0roHVrK50XL3Tu-g7rpGlSzNebqkey/s1600/taxi+cab+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQQgdoS9BBw9I0_Z5Ez9VaOwCdXXlM5LhyFIEMNJr4sbqWi7JFz_weYZUzk_XGfnZpVmZifGAyy1mHP8Xu4e9q0OclcQgPYMjvgGajGWzy8Wc_of0roHVrK50XL3Tu-g7rpGlSzNebqkey/s1600/taxi+cab+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: red;">The cabbie explained that he’ll get to see <br />
the grave of the four clowns who <br />
were supposedly buried. </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
On the way there they drove past the same cabbie who was headed in the opposite direction to the cemetery. Upon arriving at the cemetery, and seeing that the office was closed for the day, the cabbie was instructed by the patron – Mr. Ozro Green – to head back to his motel. As strange as coincidences are, and they do happen, the cabbie asked if it were OK for him to take a shortcut back to the motel. The passenger said yes, especially after the cabbie explained that he’ll get to see the grave of the four clowns who were supposedly buried and re-buried by the authorities. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Being a writer and journalist, Ozro has now found another source, a taxi driver, to glean information about the clown incident. The cabbie spilled the beans about the death of Fred Summers at that mass grave and so Ozro then put two and two together regarding Victoria Summers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“It’s funny. I flew down here and on my way down on the plane I sat next to a lady claiming to be <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place> Summers. . . “ Ozro said as he was putting pieces of an old puzzle together to draw a conclusion for his book. “. . . She never looked out of the window. Kept looking down. Very sad and lonely, as if she was dying or on her way from a funeral. She kept complaining about being cold, but the plane was very warm, too warm to be precise.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He continued, “When we landed, I got off the plane, but she sat there. As I was leaving I told the stewardess that she – Victoria, that is – may need help getting off. The stewardess came back and said that <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state> already left, that she was gone. Strange, isn’t?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Strange? Downright spooky, suh! It ain’t Halloween it’s Valentines Day,” said the cabbie and they both laughed on their way back to the motel via the shortcut.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, since you bein’ writin’ a book and all,” blurted the cabbie while he made a left turn. Then he fell silent, because he didn't want to share too much for fear of getting on Mr. Green's wrong side.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I’ll make it worth your while if you give me some good juice on the Clown Incident as long as they aren’t simple rumors. Go ahead,” advised Mr. Green.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Well, the lady I picked up at your motel, by the ways, I took to the same cemetery. You both shoulda just came together. She left with the cemetery lady and they told me not to tell you, but look, I’m a-tryin’ to live like an honest man,” explained the cabbie.<br />
<br />
He continued, "Fred Summers was killed by those clowns because he walked on their graves. that's what I believe. She has to be his widow."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“This is weirder than anything. It must have been Mrs. Summers. We seem to be sharing the same route somehow. Karma? But I can’t reason why,” pondered Ozro Green aloud, starting to get chills up his back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The Clown Grave Site<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs-kNJgLYhcRjzrntgR14j6Qkv-jQlTbZm_6tEwroJncDAufj_8jYe_6JyXhEVTKineAMPOaisOCSHimA_-2lQlMAtfOAaQCs4syxx-wR8YZ8iGujO3aKQlvpT557lYAliL9-d6e0R1Hy/s1600/road+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs-kNJgLYhcRjzrntgR14j6Qkv-jQlTbZm_6tEwroJncDAufj_8jYe_6JyXhEVTKineAMPOaisOCSHimA_-2lQlMAtfOAaQCs4syxx-wR8YZ8iGujO3aKQlvpT557lYAliL9-d6e0R1Hy/s1600/road+2.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: red;">“If it isn’t too far off the beaten path, <br />
there’s a dirt road short cut."</span></i> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Well, fifteen minutes ahead of the cabbie and his passenger, Vickie and Josie arrive at the spot where the clown graveyard was, the place where Fred suffered his heart attack.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“You know Josie, you probably weren’t around then, but they found my husband's body over the spot where those clown bones were buried . . . and his pant leg was snagged on barbed wire . . and he was gripping a sign . . .” <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place> was telling her with tears in her eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Vickie, you don’t have to talk about it, let’s just put the heart up and leave,” Josie said to reassure her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After the time of Fred's demise, after a quick police investigation, and after the funeral, Vickie could not find the strength to go see where Fred had his heart attack. She devoted more time to taking care of and visiting Aunt Mabel for that short period of time. Vickie was determined this time to muster up the courage and face it - see where husband died and settle the many years of uneasiness - to close her case once and for all. Valentine's Day with her heart and her love will make peace with her.<br />
<br />
She sat in the car when it it pulled up to the area which was supposedly the clown graves. Now the area looked a bit different. Aside from the road being paved, there was a simple wooden picket fence surrounding the area where the clown bones were allegedly buried. He fence itself needed painting and the tree nearby was still there. Since it was winter, the ground was hard, the grass was brown, but from the looks of it, someone had to have come and at least clean up the area and trim the grass and pull all the weeds. At least this was done in the fall or early November.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
There were no signs designating this as a burial site, nor were there any warning or “<i>Keep Out</i>” signs. Most likely, the county decided to make it look respectable and ward off vandals or rumors. And this seemed to do the trick.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After a few minutes of staring and thinking, Vickie opened the door. She told Josie to wait in the car that as soon as she hangs the wreath on the fence and says a few words that they can be on their way. So Vickie gets out and walks over to the area and stands before the picket fence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She had a piece of yarn with her which she affixed to the back of the heart wreath. After doing that she tied<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAXUm9D_NFduPSyePo6N59pRG9iQbddob6xkHw8AwK1oy1odkNcDqT0tdsFuhAvKq3kXnJQtbOT2yc04MZFP-asAVAjMXSErKHwYZeBCjR7ekqGCnCnRAPLDBI-J3LYb0eBhTz_PeA2Ge/s1600/valentine+grave+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAXUm9D_NFduPSyePo6N59pRG9iQbddob6xkHw8AwK1oy1odkNcDqT0tdsFuhAvKq3kXnJQtbOT2yc04MZFP-asAVAjMXSErKHwYZeBCjR7ekqGCnCnRAPLDBI-J3LYb0eBhTz_PeA2Ge/s1600/valentine+grave+2.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: red;">“Happy Valentines Day, Fred. <br />
I love you."</span></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
the yarn onto the fence, straightened the heart and stepped back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“It’s been a long time, “ she said aloud looking at the wreath and the grave area. “Happy Valentines Day, Fred. I love you and I miss you. Soon I will be with you,”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From behind the big old tree a voice was heard “Happy Valentines, Vickie. I give you my heart”.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And from behind that tree stepped a spectre who looked like Fred! He held out his right hand and walked on the clown graves towards Vickie. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie was in shock – total shock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She could not move or speak. As he got closer she saw a black and gray and beating human heart in his hand, as if he was trying to give it to her. When the spirit was 3 feet away the heart crumbled into dust and the spirit disappeared into the ground.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Then there was a loud scream coming from the <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city>. It was Josie who happened to turn and witness Fred’s ghost briefly and see it disappear. She then started the car and sped off leaving Vickie standing there all alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The Train The Cab and the Radio</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Vickie was able to move again. She stiffly headed onto the blacktop - in shock - and within an instant she was hit and killed by a speeding car. It was the cabbie. Yes he took the same route as Josie but he was speeding very fast, as cabbies occasionally do. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In order to avoid hitting her he swerved up onto the clown burial ground and hit the tree. Somehow, he did not avoid her, of course. The car hit her and ran over her body as it skidded off the slick black top and into the tree by the clown grave site.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ozro was able to get out of the back seat of the cab, with just a slight scratch on his forehead. He shook himself and ran over to Vickie’s body. BUT - There was no body. There was no blood. In a distance he heard the rumble of a train accelerating on its tracks and he got more chills up and down his body as he heard a train whistle. There are no tracks or trains nearby this side of town. Yet he heard it as clear as day.<br />
The sound of the train faded away.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After being unable to find Vickie, he made his way back to the cab. He noticed the Valentines heart hanging from the fence. Most of the rest of the fence was knocked down by the cab. The tree itself seemed to suffer trunk damage from the car, which was totaled, with anti-freeze steam filling the air.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ozro then realized that he needed to get the cabbie out and see if he needed help. He couldn’t open the driver’s door nor could he see in the frosty window. So he called the cabbie but there was no reply. Then he heard a faint “hospital” come from the cab. The cabbie was still alive. So Ozro tried to get the cabbie out from the other door but it was too badly damaged to open.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He reasoned he needed a rock or something to break open the window and try and help the cabbie or even use the dispatch to call for help. So Ozro went looking for a rock but the area was too clean, except for the wreckage. He went around the tree and found . . .</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
a brass urn. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0i7uNBew1mMOlpIdtVmoLUEXUwgutm3l79YOck-E67Z6Ay0DGDg3-hZJlKliPpiXwiR0DlZCo_iCQHn208aqcNCQe7UZV4kStbRU3nZ_BuGX5PqvQmKeYsLmKk1El5LSl1SXG1VCVgVcQ/s1600/urn+by+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0i7uNBew1mMOlpIdtVmoLUEXUwgutm3l79YOck-E67Z6Ay0DGDg3-hZJlKliPpiXwiR0DlZCo_iCQHn208aqcNCQe7UZV4kStbRU3nZ_BuGX5PqvQmKeYsLmKk1El5LSl1SXG1VCVgVcQ/s1600/urn+by+tree.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">He went around the tree and </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">found a brass urn frozen to </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">the ground and pried it up.</span></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Ozro was then filled with fright but determined enough to save a life. He grabbed the urn, which was frozen to the ground and pried it up. There was a memorial plate on it. It said “Fred Summers the Love of My Life”. Ozro took the urn and was able to smash the cabbie’s window open. As he did that the urn cracked open and the last remains of Fred summers fell all over – on the car, on the cabbie, on the ground and on Ozro himself. Nevertheless, he was able to reach in for the radio and call dispatch for help.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
As he was calling “Dispatch, dispatch come in, we need and ambulance!” the cabbie had a death rattle and breathed his last. Ozro, disappointed, put the radio down and looked for Vickie one last time. He tried to brush off the ashes but they would not budge, as if they were glued to him. Ashes or not, he was determined to find her so he can see if she was still alive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I know we saw her. We hit her. I heard the thump of her body. She didn’t look right – sort of pale, and sad.” He thought to himself. He looked under the cab, all around, but she was gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He then realized that he needed to get out of there, especially before dark or he freezes to death, which ever comes first. He reached in for the radio and called “Dispatch dispatch please help this is no joke!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He then heard some static and tried adjusting the volume. Then he heard laughing from the radio. He heard the laughing from the <a href="http://soundcloud.com/fantom-phactory/circus-clowns-from-the-grave" target="_blank"><b>Circus Clowns From The Grave</b></a>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIZLnFoHKO9zW18OmoqecP96mkD74j3or6SkPtXjHJ4sszABQYAQ3oOimpQszHGs-Odyrs7c0HAkzZSft2gAKKDGiH3SFHc-2Wz8vazVeIkvPdMIw0FnX9zdiTd5AyzWW8Zoeo1S57NnL/s1600/clown+in+ink.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIZLnFoHKO9zW18OmoqecP96mkD74j3or6SkPtXjHJ4sszABQYAQ3oOimpQszHGs-Odyrs7c0HAkzZSft2gAKKDGiH3SFHc-2Wz8vazVeIkvPdMIw0FnX9zdiTd5AyzWW8Zoeo1S57NnL/s1600/clown+in+ink.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The Clowns always get the last laugh.<br />
Ha Ha Ha HA HA HAAAAA!!!</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-75680607754398914922013-11-07T02:38:00.000-05:002014-02-21T19:05:52.854-05:00Creeping Around The Blogosphere of Horror'Twas creeping around the blogosphere of horror searching for cool and unusual sites that discuss the unexplained and the terrifying. Here are 4 places of notoriety.<br />
<br />
<b>First Stop: </b><a href="http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/" target="_blank"><b>Unexplained Mysteries</b></a><br />
<h4>
<a href="http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/" target="_blank"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz9npHbKlxvJRppE10pr4zwPF26YFpfP49mRjCokTu96mEgjZuW0sCC7vi1VX3WKd3M2lgsnFfZjElYrajyf3a9CCHnXfIZAMZHZ9luepM0EyF_Lg_snX0iGFE38dCp0WrbEI2bzgpRX9/s1600/The+Kraken+gold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz9npHbKlxvJRppE10pr4zwPF26YFpfP49mRjCokTu96mEgjZuW0sCC7vi1VX3WKd3M2lgsnFfZjElYrajyf3a9CCHnXfIZAMZHZ9luepM0EyF_Lg_snX0iGFE38dCp0WrbEI2bzgpRX9/s320/The+Kraken+gold.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Did Jules Verne ever see a Kraken?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</a></h4>
[File under "Inquiry"]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow; font-weight: normal;">Was the Kraken ever a real creature? Could it be possible a Giant Platypus fossil was unearthed? Cryptozoology is very interesting and although it doesn't send shivers up your spine it borders on the surreal. There's some pretty interesting and weird stuff on this site. Everything from ghosts to Art Bell and oddities that can generate some fodder for your next nightmare.</span></div>
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">But remember this, when someone reports on something unusual, is it a first-hand report or a filtered report? Is the original story fact or fiction or simply embellishment? Is the internet tale written in a way to pique interest even more? So reader beware. Beware it could be true, too!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">And don't always blame the reporter - he can be duped as well. This site is good for you to make a decision on some the items reported and there's never a dull moment. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="color: yellow;">Release the Kracken!</span></i></b></div>
<br />
<b>Second Stop:</b> <a href="http://recordoobscura.blogspot.com/2009/04/original-music-from-abc-tvs-dark.html" target="_blank"><b>Record Obscura Blog</b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnChjSzJd4uiZP9qZUqfa4QZidwFtKnsjmXfWEE6xJMelEKD_fhImHww9_gLBoamZuw2ljvEROFRXk7K1n9CkkmuRePw5mwEylPAKT8BZqVpjQeF4zckj3tyzsaElO1tKMHkfZfOwwdw4/s1600/Barnabas+vs+Wolfman+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnChjSzJd4uiZP9qZUqfa4QZidwFtKnsjmXfWEE6xJMelEKD_fhImHww9_gLBoamZuw2ljvEROFRXk7K1n9CkkmuRePw5mwEylPAKT8BZqVpjQeF4zckj3tyzsaElO1tKMHkfZfOwwdw4/s1600/Barnabas+vs+Wolfman+color.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vampire paper training his dog Wolfie</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</a><br />
[File under "Music"]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Perusing the web I found some deliciously interesting information at Record Obscura about one of the greatest TV horror soundtrack albums of all-time. Yes, I'm talking about: <b><u>The Original Soundtrack to TV's Dark Shadows</u></b>. Composer Robert Cobert recorded some great music that also has the vocal talents of Jonathan Frid (vampire Barnabas Collins) and David Selby (werewolf and zombie Quentin Collins) narrating the instrumentals. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><i>"A hush falls through the melancholy halls of Collinwood . . "</i> Jonathan Frid could not have read his </span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="color: yellow;">lines any better on these tracks. His final narration at the conclusion of the original record right before the closing theme song gives anyone those eerie chills - even during midday! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Check out the high energy song <b>"The Night of The Pentagram."</b> This burst of excitement usually accompanied David Selby turning into a werewolf (or in the case of the movie <u><b>House of Dark Shadows</b></u>, the climax of the film). Waking you up with blaring trumpets, the tympanies pound to speed up your heart rate. At about any moment, you could turn around and be faced with a blood-thirsty killer werewolf who wants to tear you to shreds and bury you in his backyard next to other bones he has out there.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Cobert was a master at music, whether it be incidental, themes, set-ups, or even traditional songs. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Also on this blog are some newspaper clips about Jonathan Frid and the show itself.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Being one of the biggest Dark Shadows fans of all time, this blog has a lot of meat in it. Something every aspiring werewolf needs.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b>Next Stop: </b><a href="http://monstermoviemusic.blogspot.com/2013/09/one-step-beyond-where-are-they-1960.html" target="_blank"><b>Monster Movie Music Blog</b></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWc6nvyqkvOg4Hkm95iqinzxHfxUEoQLbovm8cuxTBNHuCXiQ1rjHVz8EuYd87r3MXQqrlhASwhSDqCfZcExnBH6rY6e1ayPINFS12TnsRTuv5z4fTMlxqXbp6fHN-lBGu9uXYEUiDg5s/s1600/John+Newland+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWc6nvyqkvOg4Hkm95iqinzxHfxUEoQLbovm8cuxTBNHuCXiQ1rjHVz8EuYd87r3MXQqrlhASwhSDqCfZcExnBH6rY6e1ayPINFS12TnsRTuv5z4fTMlxqXbp6fHN-lBGu9uXYEUiDg5s/s320/John+Newland+3.jpg" height="277" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Newland has a tale to tell from beyond the grave</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[File under "Television"]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Monster Movie Music Blog has interesting tale about one of the best "true but weird" story TV shows <b>One </b><b>Step Beyond</b>. This show is a precursor to the Twilight Zone and similar in many ways EXCEPT the tales are based on true events! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">After discovering various episodes in bargain bins at dollar stores I became a fan and collector of this TV show, which was taped in glorious black and white. In the genre of Twilight Zone/Alfred Hitchcock/Tales of Tomorrow etc. This show was hosted by John Newland. His tale introductions and story conclusions give you goose bumps (alongside with help from the great score of Harry Lubin). </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">On this blog there's an article that shows some neat photos of one of my fave tales: the falling rocks of Chico California. </span><span style="color: yellow;">The story is based on a <i>true event</i> and to this day no one can explain how rocks can fall out of the sky at the same time every day, at the same spot.</span></div>
<br />
<b>Last Stop:</b> <b> <a href="http://www.scarymonstersmagazine.com/" target="_blank">Scary Monster Magazine Website</a></b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5C6dC3WTr4V3Obx65fcwm9j8K4GhYn-O5iLOjCKOR9HaZtp5tm7hAAyoXzYnF62mRRMEKYthM5QoAMcizrgHuhtzJ5c71TdhuZ6oy5ZbBR_sfX1aRWfjlD5JkcLbhlinRy8UDCq5W3EN/s1600/Sacry+Monsters+%2389.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5C6dC3WTr4V3Obx65fcwm9j8K4GhYn-O5iLOjCKOR9HaZtp5tm7hAAyoXzYnF62mRRMEKYthM5QoAMcizrgHuhtzJ5c71TdhuZ6oy5ZbBR_sfX1aRWfjlD5JkcLbhlinRy8UDCq5W3EN/s320/Sacry+Monsters+%2389.jpeg" height="202" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Full Cover of Current Issue of Scary Monsters #89</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
[File under "Magazines"]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Unbelievable but I still have some of my Scary Monsters Magazines. This is a magazine that came out yesteryear and is making a big comeback to true classic horror fans all over. Similar to <i>Famous Monsters of Filmland</i>, Scary Monsters has the edge as it is back in print and available at Barnes and Noble. Reading through the pages is pure nostalgia and a trigger to why horror movies, books, and stories were created: simple FUN. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">After a dry spell with B-movies and cheap Sci-Fi programs, horror movies and TV shows were back in vogue in the 60's, perhaps in retaliation to the social culture change of the hippy movement and the harsh reality of the Viet Nam War. Getting spooked by classic monsters is perhaps more comforting than the world on LSD and soldiers getting spit on when they returned from Southeast Asia.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">Scary Monsters captures the classics, and after seeing all the generic vampire/werewolf/zombie TV shows and movies of recent times, one does begin to yearn for actors and actresses of stature and ability and creativity. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: yellow;">In summary, visit these blogs and websites. Taste the movies and music and programs of the classics. Read, listen and investigate into tales or mysteries of the unknown. With the current junk that is out there right now, you can indeed enrich yourself with things that ordinary mortals are now devoid of, and have a jolly good time as well.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-57906939774188820372013-11-01T22:44:00.001-04:002013-11-01T23:20:31.598-04:00Spooky Tidbits: Dark Shadows News Page: Barnabas Makes Headlines<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AtBp016hgcWWfMda69J9WKc5C19hTJd2IPOcJZcizPgj-mF3nCyrkye7NbxbvUfme7qIji7Q-3e2h10qSz2dy-m_Ot-SjKvCr1T7GVUNrucdfC4oL25a9z0kR6i9TVga-14KdOnthjA5/s1600/mean+green+Barnabas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AtBp016hgcWWfMda69J9WKc5C19hTJd2IPOcJZcizPgj-mF3nCyrkye7NbxbvUfme7qIji7Q-3e2h10qSz2dy-m_Ot-SjKvCr1T7GVUNrucdfC4oL25a9z0kR6i9TVga-14KdOnthjA5/s320/mean+green+Barnabas.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0y7LIFEBWEn7AC35Jobu8unPPp3n_RPa243Tt28FOrzEDKQGmvHvxCxu4fPaXm_AHVdShmduefN8o8OeHKNmqwaIkDCNwpu_UBLr1bAsRobQ0q_DWM60Q9v3y3QPHC7BRohDcMjXd2-j/s1600/mean+Barnabas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
<i>"<a href="http://darkshadowsnews.blogspot.com/2013/03/barnabas-lives-on.html?spref=bl">Dark Shadows News Page: Barnabas Makes Headlines</a>: TV Guide had named Barnabas Collins one of TV's 60 Nastiest Villians of All Time. Barnabas placed at number eight: "The Dracul..."</i><br />
<br />
Just wanted to share some tidbit info about one of the best horror TV shows of all time.<br />
<br />
Many great actors and actresses got their start on Dark Shadows and all-around it was a superb show for its time. What stood out was not only the storyline and the sets but the horror music composed by Robert Cobert.<br />
<br />
The link above is strictly Dark Shadows related. If you are an old or new fan - go there . . . but don' t forget to check out the <b>Fantom Phactory</b> every now and then for more tales of terror and scarey music. -ed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-91235446009232718732013-10-30T19:31:00.001-04:002013-10-30T20:41:40.479-04:00A Little Halloween Slideshow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z8I6LQBL9Mk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
<h4>
<b>Fantom Phactory</b> loves to have phun with fotos!</h4>
Here a few random clips around <u>Halloween</u>. Although our tales are dead serious throughout the year, October 31 is a fun day for the kiddies.<br />
We hope when the kiddies go trick or treating that the door they knock on isn't opened by Michael Myer, Freddie Kruger or worse yet . . . Chucky!<br />
<br />
And to you skeletons out there - don't eat too much sweets or your teeth might fall out. You can't afford that can you!<br />
<br />
<b>BOO!</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-507301746696014172013-10-07T15:06:00.000-04:002013-10-07T15:06:08.591-04:00Haunted Farmhouse Set for Demolition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZseCd-rMv0bt1H0lhIGA_9ub5rnelKzIXcX3EshLRakdGcbhLVd7-qzXXTiDoSl2Uq5v59p9v3tJZZyLYc6u92Bem79mMnKMwHlyRSkVaUihUOal-Mey-Zf-an-9zLQYPrlkctcFS20j/s1600/haunted-farm-house+green+edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBZseCd-rMv0bt1H0lhIGA_9ub5rnelKzIXcX3EshLRakdGcbhLVd7-qzXXTiDoSl2Uq5v59p9v3tJZZyLYc6u92Bem79mMnKMwHlyRSkVaUihUOal-Mey-Zf-an-9zLQYPrlkctcFS20j/s1600/haunted-farm-house+green+edit.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>October 8, 1941</b> – The latest reports coming out of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Achinson</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">County</st1:placetype></st1:place> are that the old homestead of 19<sup>th</sup> century country doctor, Jacob Stillson, is being haunted by an evil force or entity. Passers-by claim to hear sounds that are other-worldly and ungodly. Although nothing has been seen, travelers have reported to detect unusual scents and bitter smells not compatible with human olfactory senses.The house recently had a court order which required it to be demolished as there are no inhabitants for the past 12 years and unpaid taxes have been piling up in a county in dire need of revenue because of the current situation with the war.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Adding to the intrigue, various reports claim that the old farmhouse is not haunted by Jacob’s ghost, but may have been infiltrated by a vengeful poltergeist. These reports have many locals spewing gossip about what it may be, when in fact it could just be creatures of the night on the prowl for an evening meal or mating dance.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dr Stillson, according to some old unpublished biographical essays, was a general practitioner but developed a penchant for some of his own medicinal concoctions. His biography was left at the wayside and not included in the County history but somehow managed to survive in an old tin box in the archives room. Accordingly, after a while, he stopped making house calls as his horse mysteriously disappeared. It seems he may have become a recluse and died in his home. No historical information or other county records have any details about his death or whither he removed to another location.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rumor from a few surviving long time residents had surfaced that he developed a love of the violin, that when he was not out and about curing ails and delivering babies, he was merrily engaging in playing his violin. What the violin and his possible addiction to medical drugs have in common is uncertain, to be sure; however these things may have nothing to do with the current goings-on at the old house.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Although it may be getting close to Halloween and all kinds of pranks and shenanigans are being planned by youngsters around the county, it is hard to say that the season has anything to do with it since the first report of weird noises began in late August. Most reports have been ignored by the authorities. The county has set a date to demolish the old building after it has determined it is safe for workmen. After demolition, the property will be auctioned off to the highest bidder. During this time of war, some county officials fear that the property may not sell, not because of hauntings, but because there a few with financial resources.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">More information on this report is forthcoming.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><br />
<iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F52226279&color=19830b&auto_play=true&show_artwork=true"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-75502055953636718212013-05-19T11:51:00.002-04:002013-05-19T11:51:34.816-04:00Circus Clowns From The Grave Sampler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzjZvZQbTQ_oC7HuXJixXHqYJ4qRmtD-Uy24_U7UWfxJxk9t5nKoDkJz8F1W1YEdWnB-NR-DhPyAgY077OSBA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The saga of the Circus Clowns from the grave continues but we wanted to give you a teaser - a sampler of the song "<b>Circus Clowns From The Grave</b>" with these images.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Please note, the cemetery shown has only 4 graves - all unmarked and you can hear laughter coming out of the ground.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you want me to post Part 3, let me know.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-87536092174429596982012-11-11T18:33:00.001-05:002012-11-11T18:37:17.581-05:00The Revenge of the Colossal Beast<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Revenge-of-the-Colossal-Beast/dp/B009EHYTSY/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1352676102&sr=8-4&keywords=fantom+phactory" target="_blank">Music Sample from "The Revenge of the Colossal Beast."</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFKgbKSt8Y-WzuuDcewKIq40tSdqW49FCQ3I_oze2NvSoFMjDey_KqAVJMY1GZnjE0xEJFdKYlSF85W4tOn94yB95jTvdgAhNmq4h9oMXZkXItueK6SshPgYjKxAI3BcIot0CNb7r9ytS/s1600/Colossal+color.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsFKgbKSt8Y-WzuuDcewKIq40tSdqW49FCQ3I_oze2NvSoFMjDey_KqAVJMY1GZnjE0xEJFdKYlSF85W4tOn94yB95jTvdgAhNmq4h9oMXZkXItueK6SshPgYjKxAI3BcIot0CNb7r9ytS/s1600/Colossal+color.JPG" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He was a big bad dude and the army could hardly contain him. If the army had any forsesight, they could've created an army of colossal soldiers to fight and defend America against the big Red Scare. Unfortunately, any man who grows to such a large size goes mad.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-62129615313333533082012-10-07T00:11:00.000-04:002012-10-07T00:11:43.679-04:00Lonely Ghost Album Just Released!<h3>
Breaking News!</h3>
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: yellow;">Just in time for Halloween.</span></i></h4>
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
New album LONELY GHOST just released.</h2>
It's available at Amazon.com.<br />
You can preview the songs on this blog.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4GMtHbuCcnlqZMnZGd8udtw1tmkV3bJeLLWWdfMDwpwbzXdu_NecHapEZjgWE9BdMJgE0T5YDynbMDBljIAXq6u3X7SbCFF4Ph_DE4r395MkDpsDGfomimzvs26xaCdPmuueQmuYxX0L/s1600/Fantom+Cover+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4GMtHbuCcnlqZMnZGd8udtw1tmkV3bJeLLWWdfMDwpwbzXdu_NecHapEZjgWE9BdMJgE0T5YDynbMDBljIAXq6u3X7SbCFF4Ph_DE4r395MkDpsDGfomimzvs26xaCdPmuueQmuYxX0L/s320/Fantom+Cover+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h4>
Check it out here: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/185-8641754-2818008?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-music&field-keywords=fantom+phactory" target="_blank">Fantom Phactory at Amazon</a></h4>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><i><span style="color: yellow;">BOOOOOOOO!!!!!!</span></i></b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-79346799992585588262012-06-17T20:09:00.000-04:002012-06-17T22:15:20.017-04:00The Horrendous Clown Incident Part Two<br />
<h2>
<b><span style="color: red;">The Horrendous Clown Incident - </span></b><b><span style="color: red;">Part Two.</span></b></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>August 13, 1965</b>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> It was a mildly hot and extremely sunny day in August but
darkness was lurking around the corner for Victoria Summers</span>. She, and her
husband Fred, just arrived by car from <st1:place w:st="on">Cockeysville</st1:place>
in Baltimore County Maryland. They were on a one week’s trip to visit their old
hometown <st1:city w:st="on">Mobile</st1:city> <st1:state w:st="on">Alabama</st1:state>
and spend some time with some old friends and also especially <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place>’s aunt Mabel.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mabel had moved out of her little white house with picket
fence and daffodil garden to the ominous-looking Dixie Nursing Home, a
converted cotton mill and warehouse made into a final resting home for sick and
aged residents on their way to the world beyond. Mabel sold her house to pay
for her medical bills of repeated broken hips and surgeries; the nursing home
was her last choice and she had no one else to take care of her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mabel, nevertheless, was a lively, full-spirited woman who
loved a good laugh and a tall tale. She had made several friends and tried to
liven up the old depressing place by discussing the missing clown incident of
1952.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Getting a willing ear, or cornering someone in her wheel
chair, she would recount that when the bones were found by the game warden that
the police did not jump at an investigation, as if they knew bones were one day
to be found. Obviously, this was her spin on what the police may have thought,
however, Mabel was none-too-shy to divulge what she thought. Her biggest
question was - Why in the world would the police want the bones reburied where
they were found. After all, whenever a dead John Doe is found, he is buried in
the Potter’s field in the county cemetery. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her neighbors gave various credible reasons: one being that
if the bones were reburied, maybe the killer or killers would return to the
scene of the crime. The other reason, more practical, is that the expense of
interring four groups of human remains would cost the county four interment
fees and other labor costs so they were just dumped backed into the hole they
came out of. Mabel, however, still insisted that somehow or someway the police
themselves were involved in the foul play.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cornering another resident in the home, Mabel correctly
stated that “. . . to this day, no one, and I mean no one, ever put out a
missing person’s bulletin for one man let alone four clowns. On top of that, no
one, and I mean no one, ever found the ’48 <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city> that they supposedly drove off in.
And now, more than 10 years later, no one, and I mean no one, has ever re-dug
and found where them darn bones are!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mabel’s “discussin’ and supposin’” came to an abrupt halt
when her eyes opened widely as <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place>
and Fred entered the room. “Auntie! How you doin’? I missed you soooo much!”
shouted <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place>,
loud enough to wake the dead, perhaps, just those sleeping.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh Vickie! I’m so happy to see you – I think I’m gonna cry
– but I won’t, HA!” shouted Mabel. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then Auntie looked at Fred, with her smile dropping out of sight
she glibly said, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, Fred, so you’re here too.” You see, the truth be known,
Mabel never took too kindly to Fred, especially since the last time they saw
each other. At that time, he egged her on about the clown story and bone
investigation. Mabel had been real sour on Fred ever since.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes Mabel, my arm was twisted so I guess I’m here. Are you
still cacklin’ like an old hen about the clown murders?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Victoria was just about to chastise her husband, like a good
wife would when Mabel grabbed Victoria’s arm, winked, and said to Fred, “Yep, I
sho am and if I thought you was a little older, you sorry pain-in-the-rump that
I wouldn’t put it past you, knowing how you are, that you yourself could’ve had
somethin’ to do with it.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh Auntie please! You’re just throwin’ gasoline onto the
fire,” lectured <st1:place w:st="on">Victoria</st1:place>.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Too late, for Fred was ready in this match-up. “Mabel, you
know nuthin’ about nuthin’. You know nuthin’ ‘bout me, nuthin’ ‘bout how old I
am, nuthin’ ‘bout where I’m from, or who my daddy was. And, Mabel, you sure
know nuthin’ about any bones or clowns. I ain't even gonna ask you if you know
what kind of car I have – well I have a nineteen and forty eight Plymouth, just
like the one those clowns had,” he said, giving it to her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Mabel quickly leaned
forward in her creaky old wooden wheelchair and whispered “<st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city>?” Then her eyes rolled up and she slumped
back into her chair.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsesW9zfH8WSZ8GC2wEsq9rT16GuVwY5MRpWvSoKTz2P72sGGWB3Hdl8pJHppAa_35m15ulkMNkKhitLzAcsWoJGUI_iEwBzwB9AmY56KiZuGvW5yk3Vh-QF1rXfW1OUPHHjuh6QyxqNA/s1600/plymouth+polaroid.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsesW9zfH8WSZ8GC2wEsq9rT16GuVwY5MRpWvSoKTz2P72sGGWB3Hdl8pJHppAa_35m15ulkMNkKhitLzAcsWoJGUI_iEwBzwB9AmY56KiZuGvW5yk3Vh-QF1rXfW1OUPHHjuh6QyxqNA/s320/plymouth+polaroid.JPG" width="320" /></a> “Oh my God! Oh Lord1 Fred, you killed her!” screamed Vickie.
Then everyone in the room sat up and took notice and one of the residents rang
for the on-duty nurse. The nurse came over, saw Fred who was as white as a
ghost and Vickie with tears in her eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The nurse reached for her stethoscope and gently placed it
on Mabel’s heart. “Thank God, this woman is still alive”, the nurse said with
relief. At that very moment, the ‘dead” woman jumped forward and shouted
“Gotcha! Gotcha Fred!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, it seems like Mabel won this match, although Vickie
wasn’t too pleased with how it went, making her cry and all, but she knows how
her mischievous aunt is. Fred didn’t take it as well as <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state> and left the room. He waited
outside for <st1:state w:st="on">Victoria</st1:state>,
took her to the motel and said he had a few things to do in town.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He headed on over to the bar where the old barkeep told the
police about the clowns and his theory. Unfortunately, the old story-teller had
passed away in 1960 and the tavern was under different management. Still, Fred,
determined to get to the bottom of the story – and get back at Mabel --
inquired like an investigator from Perry Mason. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lips seemed sealed until Fred made his demand, “I just wanna
know where that dang-tootin’ graveyard is!”
Then he explained,”My daddy and me were in the bar when that one ugly
SOB clown came up to us and insulted us.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally, at this revelation, the new owner, an old timer,
stepped forward from the back office. “Listen boy, you better be tellin’ the truth,
‘cause if you ain’t, well there’s the door.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fred swore “Honest to God’s truth mister. No one knows
anything and the yarns that are gettin’ spinned are gettin’ out of hand. This
thing needs to come to a close.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With that, the old timer gave Fred directions where he
believed the grave was, but not before asking for a price for this information.
Fred gave him twenty five dollars, which seemed to be enough for the old-timer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So off Fred went on his graveyard goose chase. He drove out
west and looked up and down just about every dirt road he could find. Gas was
running low so he decided to head on back taking a dirt road cut-off. Looking
off to the left about 200 feet he glanced upon a small wooded area and a sign
“No Trespassing”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With a hunch, he surmised that this is the place. Holding up
that sign was a chicken wire fence. Fred thought he hit the jackpot. If this is
the “Clown Graveyard”, he thought, he could get back at Mabel, earn some money
by selling his story to the newspaper, and make Vickie proud.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He got out of the car, a 48 <st1:city w:st="on">Plymouth</st1:city> (he wasn’t lying), and walked over
to the patch. In the middle of the patch was an old “Keep Out” sign. Nothing
else looked unusual, just an area overgrown with weeds. Yet, here was what he
needed as evidence: the sign. He wasn’t prepared to dig up any bones as he
didn’t have a spade on him, but the idea of grabbing that sign seemed to lure
him and convince him that that was all he needed right now. Then he can come
back tomorrow morning with camera and spade and photograph his evidence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One problem: he had to get into the patch. So he decided to
try to run and jump over the chicken wire and as he did his pant leg got
caught. At that moment he started to feel a little queasy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not giving up, he felt he could reach the sign from where he
was. He did and he easily pulled it out,
weeds and all. As held the sign, he tried to untangle his pants when all of a
sudden he heard ominous laughter – coming out of the ground, with a foul odor.
He couldn’t believe his ears. He got so nauseous that he soiled his pants.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked up and saw ghostly clown faces – in broad
daylight! Fred’s salt and pepper hair turned snow white and he couldn’t move.
Then, he saw what he didn’t want to see – that ugly clown who insulted him and
his daddy. Coldness passed through Fred’s body and his heart suffered a
severely painful thump.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There Fred died . . . with “<b><span style="color: red;">Keep Out</span></b>” clenched in his hands
. . . in soiled clothing . . . in the weeds . . . pants tangled in chicken wire
. . . lying on the circus clowns grave. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: red;"><b>End of Part 2</b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b> <a href="http://fantomphactory.blogspot.com/2012/06/horrendous-clown-incident-part-one.html" target="_blank">Horrendous Clown Incident Part 1</a></b>
<br />
<br />
<iframe bordercolor="#000000" frameborder="0" height="250" hspace="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N7433.148119.BLOGGEREN/B6695230.688;sz=300x250;ord=[timestamp]?;lid=41000000029272154;pid=266154866;usg=AFHzDLuaCdPM87w052-zNqLVVJgZvAeeKQ;adurl=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.cafepress.com%252F%252Bi_dig_cemeteries_mousepad%252C266154866%253Fcmp%253Dpfc--f--us--003--266154866%2526sourcecode%253Daffiliate%2526pid%253D6673073%2526utm_cp_signal%253D18;pubid=552651;price=%2413.00;title=%22I+Dig+Cemeteries+Mouse+Pad%22;merc=CafePress.com;imgsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fimages.cafepress.com%2Fproduct%2F266154866_480x480_f.jpg;width=135;height=135" vspace="0" width="300"></iframe></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-71535436233211782612012-06-10T17:45:00.000-04:002014-02-05T18:50:09.443-05:00The Horrendous Clown Incident - Part One<h3>
<span style="color: cyan;">The Horrendous Clown Incident: </span><span style="color: cyan;"> Ku Klux Klan may be responsible. </span></h3>
<span style="color: cyan;"><br /></span>
<h3 style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: cyan;">September 26, 1955
Mobile, Alabama - This is the story of four unknown professional circus clowns who may have mysteriously disappeared as a result of a group murder. The Ku Klux Klan had been suspected but the allegations and any evidence have proven negative so far. The information from townsfolk, and an old barkeep, in particular, spin the story as to almost make it far fetched. </span></h3>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: cyan;"> Here is some basic information that may be deemed as accurate but not totally reliable.
There was a sales convention for travelling vacuum cleaner salesmen held the week of August 25th to August 29, 1952. The convention was basically a week of sales meetings with Friday being reserved as a day of revelry and jubilation. Talent and entertainment was hired for the group. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: cyan;"> Among the pitchmen's own forms of entertainment were additional talent such as a fire eater. A stand up comic from West Virginia by the name of Don Knotts was booked but cancelled as he landed an acting position. In his place was a guest appearance by CBS radio and television host Steve Allen, of "The Steve Allen Show". Mr. Allen Had agreed to visit on his way from a business trip in Atlanta on account that he had a soft spot for vacuum cleaner salesmen and often used a sales pitch in some of his sketches. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> Following Steve Allen on the itinerary were to be an acrobatic act and a vaudeville-style sketch by a circus clown troupe.
Those responsible for booking the event for the entertainment destroyed their records and the names of the acrobats and clowns were never known. The clowns were to stay at a hotel near the venue but never checked in.
The sales meeting and special entertainment day went on without a hitch except for the fact that no clowns showed up. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> Here is the local folklore which has been generating ever since for the last 3 years. The four clowns had arrived in Mobile the day of their scheduled performance. They never checked in to their hotel or they never used their real or stage names in any of Mobile's 32 hotels and motels. Nevertheless they were in full clown costume and purportedly on their way to the convention. Nobody saw any clowns at the convention. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> The story from the tavern barkeeper (his name omitted for his own safety) is a little more twisted. He alleges that four clowns entered his bar. "They had some time to kill," the barkeeper stated. Here is what he recently reported to the police: "They were joking and having fun with the patrons. They all had clown make-up on and started to get a little rowdy when they had too many beers. A farmer and his boy got offended by one clown that had a wee too much whisky. The clown, and I swear, this is what he said . . . he said, look guys, I'm whiter than you! You're in the wrong part of town. He laughed and thought it as a harmless joke. The farmer slammed his glass down real hard on my table and he and his son left in a huff. He was smokin'. You just can't say that kind of stuff round here or you be gettin' in trouble." </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> And trouble ensued. According to our bartender he stated that the clowns, realizing they had a performance had better get out and head on down to the convention. That's when things could have allegedly gone wrong, dead wrong.
The four clowns drove off in their Plymouth and headed west. The barkeeper, noting that the convention hall was north, stated that he didn't see where they went but had his own theory. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> "I can put two and two together, yup!" he proudly said. His theory, mixed with evidence dug up by County Police, was that they headed out about 20 miles west of Creek Lake. "Maybe they were too drunk or maybe they were lost or maybe both," he surmised.
They ended up at a cornfield in full clown apparel and were followed by 3 or 4 pick up trucks, as the theory goes. They got out of their car and still in a playful mode decided to make their own corn maze. The drivers and passengers of the trucks got out and followed them into the corn. There the happy-go-lucky entertainers were allegedly beaten to death in cold blood with baseball bats and ax handles. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> Their bodies were then thrown into one of the trucks and driven east to a wooded area. One large grave was dug and the four bodies were thrown into it after they had been stripped of all their belongings and valuables. The Plymouth was never found. A wooden cross was burned on the grave site and a makeshift grave marker was made using an old "Keep Out" sign. On that sign, written in chalk were the words "Circus Clowns In The Grave." </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> All of this speculation can fit the puzzle with what discovery the County Police made last Friday. In a secluded wooded area a game warden discovered a patch of ground that had a "Keep Out" sign on it facing down. No burnt cross nor chalk markings on the sign were observed. Obviously, the county was called to excavate the patch and bones were exhumed. The bones were human and matched about four males. </span><span style="color: cyan;">According to the coroner, the bodies were all buried together naked and had been buried about three years ago. It was observed that many bones were broken due to heavy blunt objects causing the deaths.
Obviously the bar owner was interrogated by the police for the mere fact that he kept spreading his so-called theory about the clowns. Since no evidence of clowns came to fruition, the police dismissed the barkeeper's story.
As police could not discover the identities of the remains and no missing persons report matches the recent find, the county decided to re-inter the remains where they were found and fenced off the area. </span></div>
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<span style="color: cyan;"> The game warden was given the added responsibility of checking the area to see if any visitors may return to the scene of the crime. The "Keep Out" sign was placed on the front fence of the grave.
In cooperation with the police, if anyone knows of four men who had been missing since 1952 or whereabouts, please contact the Mobile County Police. Police also advise that false information is subject to prosecution and anyone attempting to locate said grave will be arrested for trespassing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><b><i>End of Part 1</i></b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-82059068454654542962012-06-01T19:57:00.000-04:002012-06-01T19:57:12.703-04:00Circus Clowns From the Grave<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZjhNtSkqE5IM9KxHQAgi3_baV8Ta1FlXX3cGAf6h6Rth4mC0yF0N7Mqhymf4I5b7KBqCJ28qHk_6eDO1RQdnXnK4KzFdu_1PTjhr1aviUjYOCJAOaCuOeRKq8mu8XtTfNkdF80dNwTJ5/s1600/clown+grave.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtZjhNtSkqE5IM9KxHQAgi3_baV8Ta1FlXX3cGAf6h6Rth4mC0yF0N7Mqhymf4I5b7KBqCJ28qHk_6eDO1RQdnXnK4KzFdu_1PTjhr1aviUjYOCJAOaCuOeRKq8mu8XtTfNkdF80dNwTJ5/s320/clown+grave.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Want to hear a spooky song? <br />
Click this >>>> <a href="http://soundcloud.com/fantom-phactory/circus-clowns-from-the-grave?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=blogger&utm_content=http://soundcloud.com/fantom-phactory/circus-clowns-from-the-grave">Circus Clowns From the Grave</a><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-48671870912654992382012-05-29T10:11:00.000-04:002012-05-29T10:19:23.013-04:00Hear the Sounds and Song of Factory of FearListen to the Sounds of the Fantom Phactory.<br />
<br />
If you've just read the tale of the Fantom Phactory and its horrible tragedies you might like to listen to some of the sounds that may be heard to this day. Click on the sample song to the right hear a sample. <br />
<br />This song tries to capture the essence of the factory with mechanical sounds and the voice of the ghost of Mary Lou. Listen carefully, but not in the dark!<strong> </strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8929023024891627174.post-78830276688057839672012-05-29T09:50:00.002-04:002012-06-17T10:25:23.120-04:00Haunted Factory Still Preserved<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Old Mechanical Building (location kept confidential for public safety).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>First Tale of Terror</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At one time the old mechanical factory was thriving with people and full steam in production until an accident occurred. Around 1928, before the crash, a worker named John Phillip, distraught with his life went into the men's room, splashed a bucket of water on himself and proceeded to the electrical room where he threw himself at the power generator. Needless to say, not only did John electrocute himself, he caused a power outage and surged that freakishly caused the deaths of 4 other workmen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The factory obviously recuperated from the tragedy and continued in operation for about 10 more years when it ceased production just prior to World War II as the owners went bankrupt. The federal government stepped in and used the factory to manufacture machine parts for tanks and ships with a government contractor. The contractor was Spellman and Franco Machinery of Cleveland, Ohio.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Recurring Deaths</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They were a small company with big connections and so after landing the job they rehabbed the plant to their liking. Nothing unusual about this except that once a year, without fail, 4 workmen accidentally die. No matter how many safety rules, how many safety captains, or how many safety meetings, 4 men die. This occurred every year until the government no longer needed the contractors as the war ended and America was victorious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The property sat vacant for 3 years until it was purchased by a chemical manufacturer. The purchaser was well aware of the tragedies that had befallen the old building but he was not superstitious. The building sat vacant for 2 more years as the new purchaser, John Miller, had other projects in San Francisco he had to attend to. Once those projects were over, he began rehabbing the building, tearing out all machinery, putting up fire escapes, sprinkler systems, stairways, and even building an entire 6th floor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John's company prospered and the factory was in full production - no deaths on site, no tragedy, and as John boldly proclaimed, no superstitions. John's grandson, Bill McGuire, took over as president of the chemical manufacturer in 1976. Bill's wife, Mary Lou, was the company accountant. Mary Lou, who loved a good tale, would bring willing listeners over to the electric room where poor old John Phillip electrocuted himself. There she would tell stories for fun and always ending each one a light joke or witful yarn.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzAa1goydy8H8EbZOoiOLhfM5FCD-FJ6yxyal7ny_5K6CT_RKQppB6xOAwihyphenhyphen49MIz6fFs9xCeDJrRNtMCeItZPU1EaTK0AL-x74Snv6Aenj5udr39Kcx-p2KCJ926UHr51w5Rczp_TXZ/s1600/PICT0827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzAa1goydy8H8EbZOoiOLhfM5FCD-FJ6yxyal7ny_5K6CT_RKQppB6xOAwihyphenhyphen49MIz6fFs9xCeDJrRNtMCeItZPU1EaTK0AL-x74Snv6Aenj5udr39Kcx-p2KCJ926UHr51w5Rczp_TXZ/s200/PICT0827.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Hello Mary Lou . . . and Goodbye</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then in 1979 something horrible happened. It was a dreary Sunday afternoon and the building was shut down. Mary Lou forgot her books at her office at the building so she drove up there to get them so she can prepare her quarterly reports. Mary Lou did not have keys but knew a door in the back that easily opened so she went in there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As Mary Lou was walking through the dimly lit building, her own tales were being recalled into her memory. The more she remembered, the more she got frightened. Well, May Lou decided to start singing to remove those memories and think peaceful thoughts. It was very eerie for May Lou as she sang louder she would hear the echo of her voice in a surreal tone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her office was in the front of the building on the new 6th floor. As she ascended the stairs she became weary. By time she reached the door at the sixth floor, May Lou collapsed and fell all six flights. May Lou was dead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next morning, 5AM, a plant supervisor, Wilson McGee, found her. No one was else was there. He hurried out to the back of the building near a break room to locate a phone. First he called the police. Then he called Bill McGuire. The supervisor went back to the stairwell and found that May Lou was gone!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He knew she was dead because he had checked her pulse and her head was severely damaged. He ran to the other side of the building to check that stairwell in case he got the locations mixed up. NO, she wasn't there either. He ran back to the other stairwell and just a moment later the police and fire department arrived. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The supervisor was distraught. The police noticed blood on the stairs, the floor, and -- on the supervisor's hands. Wilson McGee explained that he was trying to determine whether she was still alive or not and accidentally got blood on himself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bill McGuire arrived and learned the horrible information. Bill, who was on an extramarital tryst for the weekend, disguised as a business trip, did not, nor could not know that Mary Lou went to the building on Sunday. So, needless to say, Wilson McGee, the plant supervisor, was arrested and later convicted of murder because of circumstantial evidence. The body was never found. He is currently serving a lifetime sentence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>The Fantom Phactory</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The story does not end yet! Bill McGuire's lavish spending and poor money management forced the company, and its factory of horrors to shut down forever. The building could not be sold and fell into major disrepair. Inspectors have found it unsafe, mostly due to chemical and environmental factors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Known as the Fantom Phactory, bums and crackheads would inhabit the building, knock out windows, do drug deals and whatever. As the building stands, the surrounding neighborhood itself became a "ghost of a town" as the economy drove people away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The homeless would populate it during the winter but would not stay long as they claimed to hear weird sounds. "Those sounds . . . they ain't rats", one vagrant was noted as saying. Most of the claims vary as the main sounds they hear are sounds of machinery, and a women singing.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02142573958554319216noreply@blogger.com