Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Tales from the Ouija Board

The group of friends huddled around a game board, their fingers hovering over a small flittering planchet.

It was the 1960s. Roland Sneed and his then-wife were in Kansas City from Oklahoma visiting her parents when someone decided it would be fun to play with the unknown.

“My former wife and I spent several hours with friends using the Ouija board,” Roland, now of Blue Springs, said. “Sometimes the planchet went very slow and sometimes it would go so fast that it would fly off the board. Some answers were cryptic, some muddled, and some very, very interesting.”

Later, the couple slept in a seldom-used room in the old house. But the board wasn’t finished playing.

“My wife began making strange movements and then started talking in a voice not her own,” Roland said. “I wasn’t scared, but fascinated. I started asking questions about who she was and she replied that she was an ancestor of my wife. It is hard to know whether or not this was true. Specific facts were not given.

“After a while, my wife came out of this trance with beaded sweat on her brow and scared out of her mind. She said that she could feel the spirit trying to take over her body and had struggled against it until she got back into control. She refused to even look at a Ouija board after that.”

Roland and his wife met what Dawn Newlan, a medium with the Ozark Paranormal Society, calls “lower-level energies.”

“Generally, the things that come through always tell you they are a friend, a family member, a whatever,” Dawn said, adding you should keep your distance.

“Ouijas to me, and to most anyone who’s been around one will tell you they are very dangerous,” she said. “When someone plays with a board they begin to open up the doorways of communication with the other side.”

Negative energies come through these doorways, Dawn said. Sometimes these energies are people who were bad in life, and sometimes they are demons.

“Satan has his legions,” Dawn said. “If you do not know how to discern good entities from bad entities, that’s when you wind up with your problems.

“What most people don’t understand is that if you ask them a question, ‘hey what is my dog’s name?’ (The name) is in your head,” she said. “That spirit can take it out of your head and give you what you want to hear.”

Dawn speaks from experience. She’s used a Ouija.

“I was young and stupid,” she said. “Something came through and told me it was my grandma. It told me it loved me and wanted to visit me.”

Later the board began spelling “evil, evil, evil, evil.”

“A Ouija board, until you experience it, is a fascination,” Dawn said. “Your common sense tells you you really shouldn’t be doing it, but your curiosity pushes you. Once it scares the hell out of you, you’ll quit.”

But some people believe the Ouija board works, not through spirits, but through the subconscious mind of the user.

“It’s my preferred explanation for the phenomenon,” Marleigh, who posted on from-the-shadows.blogspot.com, said. “One or all of the participants is moving the pointer, subconsciously. I’ve had it happen to me where you will ask “what is your name” and I will think a specific name, say, “Jason,” and without me pushing the pointer, the name Jason will be spelled out. This could explain Ouija board happenings.”

Maybe. I don’t want to find out.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Strange lights in the sky

Gary was a Kansas City Police officer in 1960. He and his partner Richard were working the “dog watch” from midnight to 8 a.m. one Saturday when they saw something strange in the sky.

“About 2 a.m., we drove to St. John and Hardesty and were sitting at the northeast corner of Budd Park,” he said. While they were filling out reports, a bright light appeared and hovered above their car.

“There was no engine noise at all,” he said. “Just as suddenly as it appeared, it shot away into the western sky from a dead stop to gone in the count of three.

“Dick and I just sat there and stared at each other and then I said, ‘should we put this in our log report?’ His response was, ‘well, I guess that depends on how much you like psychiatrists.’”

They had seen a UFO. And, no, they didn’t report it.

Twenty-one Missouri UFO cases were reported this year to the Mutual UFO Network, an international investigation group. The cases range from witnesses reporting glowing spheres to seeing unidentified craft. On rare occasions, a case will include contact, or telepathic communication.

“I was about four and a half years old. I was sitting on the front steps to my house,” Fred of Kansas City wrote in his MUFON report. “I saw, suddenly from the east, a UFO come into view. … I kept mentally asking for a ride. I suddenly got a reply, ‘no. Not now. Not yet.’ Being a kid I got angry and shot three rolls of single-shot caps at it. A few minutes later, it flew back east.”

This was in 1950.

Most reports don’t include contact. Jim Johnson, director of the Kansas City chapter of MUFON, said the group’s objective is to apply scientific methods to the investigation of UFOs. But simply seeing a strange light or reporting mental contact isn’t enough to attract MUFON’s attention. The group needs physical proof, or at least corroboration in order to make the investigation worthwhile.

“It’s hardly credible if only one person saw it,” he said.

But, one-person reports make up the majority of UFO sightings, so the Kansas City area only has “one or two” UFO cases a year MUFON considers worthy of an investigation.

Gary’s second encounter in 1979 might fit into that category.

Gary and another officer, Paul, decided at 11 p.m. to drive to Bennett Spring for trout fishing. Gary stopped at his house to pick up his son, fishing equipment, and coffee.

They stopped in Cole Camp to use the outdoor restroom at a closed gas station.

“When we walked outside we were enveloped in light,” he said. “We looked up and just like the first time, hovering right above us was a UFO.”

The three of them rushed into the car and the UFO “left in a blink.” They continued to Bennett Spring, but didn’t sleep much that night.

“I occasionally see a show on the History Channel about UFO sightings and find myself thinking how incredible some of those stories are,” Gary said. “If I find them hard to believe, how can I expect those who have not seen to believe?”

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Shadow People

The woman was afraid.

Each night on her way home from work she saw a dark man standing on the roadside, hitchhiking. But the dark figure wasn’t a man. It was just a form, a shadow. Standing. Staring.

Unnerved, the woman called a friend, Dawn Newlan, a medium with the Ozark Paranormal Society, who told her to find an alternate route home. She did, and when she went back weeks later, the dark man was gone.

Dawn’s friend had seen a Shadow Person, one of the black figures we see out of the corner of our eye, or sometimes leaning over our bed at night.

These stories are common.

In Joplin, the black shadow of a man reportedly weaves through the trees that surround Peace Church Cemetery, the resting place of serial killer “Badman Bill Cook.” Cook, a hitchhiker, killed a family of five and a sixth random motorist in 1951.

“That’s funny,” Dawn said, after hearing of Cook. “This woman was in Joplin.”

Was Cook the woman’s dark man?

Shadow People are seen by children, teens and adults, usually in their homes during the late hours; a human-like, black figure often walking down hallways, or skulking in corners.

“I have seen them over the years,” Lee Prosser from Springfield said. Prosser is sensitive to the spirit world. “But I never felt threatened by them.”

Some have.

Josh LeMar, at the time a Maryville High School junior, took a group of friends and freshman girls to a nearby cemetery.

“We had the intentions of scaring the (freshmen),” Josh said. “We were going to give the word and all the guys were going to jump in the cars and leave the girls there. When we got to a gravel road we realized we left a guy back with the girls. We pull back in and see the guy we left behind was upset.”

There was something in the cemetery.

“He’d seen somebody (dark) jumping from headstone to headstone and hiding behind them,” Josh said. “We got out of there right away.”

He’d seen a Shadow Person. But what are they? Dawn said for the most part Shadow People are ghosts.

“A lot of times they are just someone who has passed and is still earthbound,” Dawn said. “Most of the time they are not threatening, or not of an evil nature. But there are (bad) things out there.”

Lee said people sometimes associate Shadow People with the specter of death, but he said they could be something more physical.

“I feel these Shadow Entities are scouts or explorers from another dimension simply taking a peek-see at what humans are doing,” Lee said. “They can appear at any time, and at any place … watching and observing.”

Darren Carson, now athletic director of Desert Technology High School in Lake Havasu City, Ariz., worked as a security guard at Central Methodist University in Fayette, Mo., when he saw his unexplained shadow.

“I was doing security rounds with Ben in the spring of 2001,” Darren said. “We were out about 12:30 or 1 a.m. and we saw this shape, pitch black, come together in the tree. This shape formed into a ball and shot out of the top of the tree. There was no sound and no wind. It still gives me goose bumps.”

As it does for most of those who see Shadow People.

“A lot of people will see or experience these dark shadows,” Dawn said. “And all they know is it scares the living hell out of them.”

Copyright 2006 By Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The little ghost of Charleston, Mo.

The following real-life ghost story is a reader’s experience. It happened to Samuel J. Saladino, now of South Beloit, Ill., when he lived in Charleston, Mo., in the early 1990s. This is his story:

I was working the late shift, and at about 8 p.m. my now ex-wife woke me to ask if we could go to a restaurant. We were living with my sister and her husband and I asked my sister if she'd like to join us.

When we returned to the house, I sensed something wasn't right. We had Pomeranians we kept in the kitchen. Poms are yippie dogs, but tonight they were silent. I put my finger to my lips and my wife and sister looked at me. I put my finger to my ear and mouthed, "What do you hear?" They shrugged their shoulders and mouthed, "nothing." Then they realized the dogs weren't making any sound.

I motioned for them to stay where they were while I edged to the kitchen. The male Pom was sitting on the kitchen floor looking at something. I edged closer and saw a girl of about 11, bent over looking at the dogs.

She had pigtails hanging over each shoulder, dangling above the heads of the dogs. They seemed to be watching the girl and would from time to time wag their tails. She wore a white blouse, a dark blue jumper, stockings and black strap shoes. To me, it must be a girl who lived in the neighborhood, had heard the dogs and let herself in.

I stepped into the doorway and said, "hi." She looked up, our eyes met, and I have never seen such a look of terror in anyone's face before. Then the dogs started barking.

She turned to run, and I said, "wait." When she reached the door to the back yard she didn't stop and she ran through the solid door. I could see her running across the back yard, as if in full daylight, but this was 10 p.m. As she reached the end of the yard in front of some woods, the light started to swirl around her and everything disappeared into a dot and the darkness reclaimed the night.

I ran out to see if I could find where she had disappeared. There were two other dogs barking at the spot where she vanished. I can only assume they saw her, too.

My wife and sister caught up to me, screaming, "What's wrong?"

I turned and their faces went white and they said, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

How right they were.

There were no woods at the spot the little girl disappeared. The land had been cleared years before and was now a field.

"You saw her didn't you?" my sister asked. "The little girl, dressed in a dark jumper, pigtails, about 10 years old?"

She'd seen this girl since she’d moved into the house. She'd often see her peeking around the corner. At first she thought it was a neighbor girl, but she'd search and never find anyone.

Neighbors remembered an elderly lady who lived in the house years before my sister. They always saw her wearing her hair in pigtails, braided, one hanging over each shoulder. I often wonder if that elderly lady had passed on and simply returned to the place she loved most.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The curious story of Jap Herron

“That the story of Jap Herron and the two short stories which preceded it are the actual post-mortem work of Samuel L. Clemens, known to the world as Mark Twain, we do not for one moment doubt.”
--Emily Grant Hutchings
“The Coming of Jap Herron” (1917)

Mark Twain, died in 1910.

During the mid-to late-1800s, Twain’s novels, essays and short stories made him a world-wide celebrity. Through financial failures and personal tragedy, Twain, who in 1875 pecked out the first novel ever written on a typewriter, “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” never stopped writing.

Maybe even after death.

Emily Grant Hutchings, a struggling novelist, teacher and writer for St. Louis newspapers, claimed Twain dictated his last novel and two short stories – “Daughter of Mars” and “Up the Furrow to Fortune” – to her one letter at a time between 1915 and 1917 through a Ouija board.

“They got on the Ouija board and supposedly had this conversation,” said Henry Sweets, curator of the Twain Museum in Hannibal.

Many conversations. Twain supposedly dictated chapter after chapter – including revisions – to Hutchings and spiritualist medium Lola V. Hays, according to Hutchings’ forward.

Why would Twain pick Hutchings to pen his new works? She was from Twain’s boyhood home of Hannibal.

The book, “Jap Herron,” was published by Mitchell Kennerley in 1917 as “a novel written from the Ouija board – Mark Twain via Emily Grant Hutchings.” Harper & Brothers, owners of the copyright on the pen name “Mark Twain,” sued Kennerley in 1918.

Given the nature of Ouija boards – although not officially classified as a game by the Supreme Court until 1920 – Harper & Brothers had a strong case. But, according to a story in the July 28, 1918 New York Times, the case was about more than an issue of copyright.

“We will put he issue up to the Supreme Court,” said James N. Rosenberg, an attorney for Harper & Brothers. “We will have a final ruling on immortality.”

Part of Harper & Brothers case revolved around the fact that Twain had written in the books “What is Man?” and “The Mysterious Stranger,” that he didn’t acknowledge life after death.

"He refused to believe in a spirit world," the New York Times printed. "He refused to be a spook. Judge or jury must weigh that fact."

But the case never went to trial and life after death remains in the realm of religion. Kennerley and Hutchings agreed to stop distribution of “Jap Herron” and destroy all known copies* and Harper & Brothers dropped the lawsuit.

So the question remains, was the novel written by Mark Twain?

In “Contact with the Other World,” by James H. Hyslop (1919), Hyslop details many sessions with Hays and Hutchings at a Ouija board and saw evidence Mark Twain had dictated a novel from the Great Beyond. But, really, who knows?

Despite the Supreme Court ruling, in some circles the Ouija board isn’t a toy. It’s a gateway to the spirit world. So beware, you may conjure something a little more dangerous than a humorist from Hannibal.

"There is no instruction booklet for the Ouija," according to Sharon Scott and Mary Carothers in 'Toys, Games, and Hobbies in North America.' "There is only one rule that everyone knows: Never play alone."

*Not all copies were destroyed. One is in the Mark Twain Museum in Hannibal. You can also find “Jap Herron” online at www.spiritwritings.com/JapHerronTwain.pdf#search='jap%20herron'.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Please include your name, address and telephone number – they won’t make it in print. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 By Jason Offutt

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Ghosts of Workman Chapel

A deep sea of gray clouds masked the setting sun as we pulled into the chapel’s dirt drive.

There were six of us on the ghost hunt. Myself, an audio/visual engineer and four Northwest Missouri State University freshmen. Freshmen? Hey, they were doing it for a grade.

We parked under the limbs of two trees that had grown old next to the chapel. In one, according to legend, a woman was hanged and anyone sitting in a car beneath that spot will hear her shoes scraping on the roof. Urban legend, yeah. But the freshmen were still nervous.

Workman Chapel, just north of Maryville, was quiet in the dusk, its black, glassless windows and open door frame slightly beyond uninviting. We were there to find the ghosts of the woman and two Civil War soldiers who reportedly ride their horses in the chapel’s cemetery.

Two years ago, former Northwest student Jessica Lavicky heard the horses. Her dog heard something, too.

“We walked down to the cemetery and the dog started running back and forth like it was playing with somebody,” Jessica said. “But it wasn’t playing with us.”

John Workman built the chapel in 1901. He’s buried there. Workman’s descendent, Lester Workman, is caretaker of the chapel.

“It’s been empty for years,” he said. “It’s been 50 years or better.”

People have heard church bells peal at the chapel and have seen black, human shapes dancing on the tombstones.

That’s what we were there to see.

Will Murphy, engineer of Northwest’s Mass Communication department, brought digital cameras, a digital video camera, digital audio recorder and a voltmeter.

The cameras were to capture “orbs.” These balls of light you can’t see with the naked eye sometimes appear in digital pictures. Some people claim orbs are pictures of ghosts. Others say they’re light reflecting off dust, insects or moisture.

The video and audio equipment were to record disembodied voices. Freshmen Kayla Lindsey, Katie Pierce and Harrison Sissel shot still pictures in the now black cemetery while Mallory Riley wandered with the voltmeter, trying to pick up energy fluctuations some associate with ghosts.

Then the fun began.

Katie and Kayla called me over. Katie had just taken two pictures. One had orbs. The other didn’t. Dust and insects should have been in both. Had she captured the image of a ghost?

Who knows?

“Oh my God,” Kayla said as Mallory walked past with the voltmeter. Will said the meter can generally pick up .14 volts out of the air; more around an electrical source. If the meter went past .40, Mallory was supposed to say something.

“It’s gone up to 80,” Kayla said.

Ninety. One hundred. One hundred fifteen. The meter went to 120 before Will pointed out they’d been walking toward utility lines. Easy mistake.

Then Harrison ran into one of the great problems of ghost hunting in a crowd mixed with boys, girls and, maybe, monsters. He had to go to the bathroom and he didn’t want to go alone.

Kayla laughed.

“He can’t pee in front of ghosts.”

Maybe it was time to go. We drove back to the university.

Did we find evidence of ghosts? The orbs were interesting, but inconclusive and debatable. We didn’t record voices. And we didn’t detect anomalous energy fields. But, it was fun.

Would any of us go again?

“There’s an abandoned insane asylum near Iowa,” Will said after the freshmen had gone. “People say they hear human screams coming from it at night. Want to go?”

Heck yes.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Southwest Missouri's Spook Light Road

A dusty gravel road connects Newton County, Mo., with Oklahoma south of Joplin. Thick patches of trees on the Missouri end hug the road’s shallow ditches where believers, and unbelievers, park at night and wait for something otherworldly to happen.

This is Spook Light Road.

The Spook Light is a glowing ball that floats over the road from rural Oklahoma and onto the hood of your car before suddenly winking out, only to reappear behind the car like it had gone right through you. The locals say this happens a lot.

Roberta Williams, Carthage, has seen the light.

“It was before midnight,” she said. “It was like a big, huge ball with a yellow glow and it went right straight through our car. I just screamed.”

According to legend, two Quapaw Indian lovers – chased by warriors and an angry father – jumped to their death into the Spring River from a cliff. The Spook Light is supposedly one of the young Indians walking this quiet road searching for their lost love.

The light began appearing when settlers moved to the Joplin area in 1886, but the local Indians reported seeing the light in the early 1800s, said historian Virginia Hoare. Others have ever since.

But Spook Light Road isn’t easy to find. It’s only marked by the county road sign “E50.”

“You never know quite where to stop on the road,” Virginia said. “But people say ‘where do you find the most beer cans? That’s where you can stop and see the Spook Light.’”

I trusted Virginia – she’s seen the Light.

“When I was in high school, and I graduated in 1934, I saw it,” she said. “It came right through the car. We saw it coming toward us and I looked out the back window and I saw it had passed through the car.”

Gary Roark, mayor of nearby Seneca has never seen the Spook Light, but knows many people who have.

“It’s a little bit like people with stories about UFOs,” Gary said. “There’s no doubt they’ve seen something, but what it is is anybody’s guess.”

In 1946, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers investigated the Spook Light, trying to pass it off as the refraction of headlights from a nearby road.

“They couldn’t prove this so they called it ‘lights of unknown origin,’” Virginia said.

A building sits at the head of Spook Light Road. Although it’s a private residence now, it used to be the Spook Light museum. The museum was originally owned by Arthur “Spooky” Meadows who later sold it to Garland “Spooky” Middleton. Middleton sold soda to people who stopped to see the light.

Bill Caldwell, librarian for the nearby Joplin Globe, hasn’t seen the Spook Light either, but he knows why people are interested in it.

“It’s such a community happening. It’s just part of the landscape,” he said. “It is unexplained and intangible, there’s just no way to know what it is.”

To get to Spook Light Road from Joplin, take Interstate 44 to Exit 4; Missouri 43 south 4 miles to Gum Road; turn west on Gum Road to a T; turn south; then turn west onto E50 and look for piles of beer cans.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

The Ghost of Mark Twain Cave

It’s cold in Hannibal’s Mark Twain Cave. Fifty-two degrees all year round.

The feet of tourists scrape along the dusty rock floor, where an uncountable number of feet have scraped since the cave’s discovery in 1819 – feet that belonged to the curious, the romantic and the likes of Jesse James and Mark Twain.

“I seemed to tire of most everything I did,” Twain wrote in his autobiography. “But I never tired of exploring the cave.”

The cave has been home to town meetings, weddings and the ghost of a teenage girl.

When Twain was a boy, the cave was owned by Dr. Joseph Nash McDowell, a surgeon from St. Louis who founded the Missouri Medical College. McDowell was a gifted physician and a little nuts.

“He was trying to petrify a human body,” said Susie Shelton, general manager of the cave. “His own daughter died of pneumonia at 14. He took a copper cylinder lined with glass. He filled it with an alcohol mixture, put in his daughter and hung it from a ceiling in a cave room.”

Children would tell ghost stories around that cylinder – among other things.

“The top of the cylinder was removable,” Twain wrote in ‘Life on the Mississippi.’ “And it was said to be a common thing for the baser order of tourists to drag the dead face into view and examine it and comment upon it.”

After two years of complaints from the residents of Hannibal, Dr. McDowell moved his daughter’s body to the family mausoleum in St. Louis. But, according to some, the lonely figure of young Miss McDowell is still there, walking in the chilled darkness of the cave.

“I’ve had guides say they’ve seen somebody,” Susie said. “I’ve been in and out of there 15 years and have never seen or felt anything.”

Former tour guide Tom Rickey saw something there in the late 1990s that still haunts him.

“I got a cold chill,” he said. “I got them now thinking about it. I got a chill over me and I turned around and she was there.”

‘She’ was a girl wearing a long, old-fashioned dress with a cape.

“I happened to look back in McDowell’s room … and I saw her standing there as plain as day,” Tom said. “She had long dark hair. Very, very pretty. She was only there for an instant.”

Thinking the girl was a lost tourist, he tried to speak to her, but she turned and walked into the cave room.

“She walked off,” Tom said. “She didn’t fade away, but there wasn’t nowhere to walk. She went through the wall. She just walked off and she wasn’t there anymore.”

Susie said Tom’s experience isn’t isolated.

“There have been stories of people seeing a little girl in there, so it’s possible,” she said. “I’ve had a few tour guides who’ve said they’ve felt something. Some guides don’t like to go in there by themselves.”

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Monday, October 23, 2006

1941: UFO crash near Sikeston, Mo.

A mysterious aircraft crashes in a rural area. The FBI recovers strange bodies. The wreck is whisked off by the military. Documents are missing.

This isn’t the story of Roswell, N.M.

Linda Wallace was born in Sikeston, Mo., a town known for Lambert’s Café, the home of “throwed rolls,” and the Southeast Missouri Agricultural Museum. It’s not known for a UFO crash. Information Linda has uncovered may change that.
When Linda was young, her father worked at the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics in Sikeston and may have been privy to information of a downed UFO between Cape Girardeau and Sikeston six years before the alleged crash of a flying saucer at Roswell.

“I would like to think if your father knew something, he’d share it,” she said. “But I have no answers.”

In the spring of 1941, at about 9 p.m., Baptist minister William Huffman of Cape Girardeau was asked to deliver last rights to the pilot and passengers of an aircraft that crashed about 15 miles outside of town, in the direction of Sikeston, according to a letter from Huffman’s granddaughter Charlette Mann to UFO investigator Leo Stringfield.

When Rev. Huffman arrived, police, fire officials, the military and the FBI poured over the crash site of a disc-shaped craft. The pilot and passengers were “little gray people” with large, almond-shaped black eyes, according to Mann’s letter.
Huffman was sworn to secrecy. So, it seems, was everyone else.

Linda discovered Sikeston fire, sheriff and police have no records for 1941. No records exist for the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics. And stories have been removed from microfilm issues of the Sikeston Herald around the time of the alleged crash.

“I thought that was unusual,” Linda said. “I had gone to other dates and they did not have problems. And looking for an original for that paper, it’s not anywhere.”

So Linda did what any good researcher does. She started asking questions.

“One source spoke about ‘little people’ that died and were transported from the alleged crash site,” she said. “An unrelated source spoke about a fairly recent visit by a former associate of the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics. In her words, ‘There is a man – somewhat confused – who said he ‘picked up the bodies’ of crash victims from the base.”

Linda found that man in a locked wing of a Sikeston nursing home.

“I identified myself and my father’s name,” she said. “The man’s face went from a blank look to an ear-to-ear grin. ‘Your Dad was my crew chief – that was so long ago.’”

After a few questions, Linda was satisfied this man had known her father.

“I told the aging patient I would like to discuss the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics and the air crashes that were never reported,” she said. “The blank look returned to his face. ‘I do not know, I do not know.’ He was lost again and we did not reconnect.”

After the man died, she discovered this is the man who had spoken with the “unrelated source” about the bodies.

These are the interviews that keep Linda’s research going.

“I get bits and pieces of stories,” she said. “Evidence to either prove or disprove the event only leads to more questions. Two senior Sikestonians recall talk of the crash of an unidentified craft, others recall a meteor crash, and still others recall no incident. I continue the search.”

But not forever.

“I don’t think it’s within my ability uncover the truth,” Linda said. “I know this is not something one person can solve.”
You can contact Linda through her Web site, www.seekingmoinfo.com.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Electronic Voice Phenomena

Sitting at a table in the vast dining hall at Springfield's Pythian Castle, psychic Dawn Newlan of the Ozark Paranormal Society played voices the group recorded there in 2005.

Some of the voices were clear, some muffled, but all of them had something in common they were recorded when no one was home.

Electronic Voice Phenomena, or EVP, is an unexpected sound that appears on an audio recording. EVPs have been around since the 1920s when Thomas Edison tried to develop a machine to talk with the dead. Today, ghost hunters place tape and digital audio recorders in empty rooms to capture the voices of earthbound spirits.

And Pythian Castle is rife with spirits.

The castle, a three-story stone structure built in 1913, has been an orphanage, hospital, WWII Army headquarters where German POWs were interrogated Å  and soon to be a bed and breakfast.

"In the basement, we've heard two or three different voices," Dawn said. "We've actually got voices on tape."

From Dawn's recordings come the moans, "I am not myself," "punish him" and "I'll kill him." Dawn also played whispers, laughter and the faint sound of a man hissing, "It's OK." All were gathered in empty rooms.

"Each one of the ghost hunting people have gotten something unusual here," said Tamara Finocchiaro, co-owner of the castle.

Ghost hunter Ryan Straub also records EVPs. Ryan has picked up EVPs in desolate Hazel Ridge Cemetery near Brunswick.

"I sat it just like that," he said, placing a recorder atop a weatherworn tombstone. "And we walked away from it. The next morning we listened to it and it sounded like chipmunks. I slowed it down and it was a little girl singing 'Ring Around the Rosie.'"

The tombstone was next to the graves of children.

Carol Mullins has worked for the University of Central Missouri's housing department for five years, mainly in Laura J. Yeater Hall. Legend has it the building is haunted.

The ground floor of Yeater is empty, and its banquet room generally remains quiet. That's where Carol likes to collect EVPs.

"I put my tape recorder in there and there was a moan," she said. "It wasn't the windÅ  It was a moan. It was a moan of pain.

"A lot of people say that's the radiator, but the radiators aren't on here over the summer."

Carol has also collected EVPs in her Yeater Hall office at night.

"There were like a dozen girls giggling outside my door," she said. "It was the summer. How were there girls giggling outside my door?"

What are the voices picked up by these ghost hunters? The sounds of restless spirits? Demons? Past events seeping into the present? Or is someone just playing?

"All the tape recordings, it's just weird," Carol said. "I can't explain it."

Want to capture an EVP? Place a tape recorder in your living room, hit "record" and leave the house. But later, as you're about to press "play," just remember, you might not like what you hear.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn't identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt, c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of "From the Shadows."

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, "Haunted Missouri," will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Welcome

Darkness surrounds us.

We all see shadowy shapes lurking in our periphery, hear creaks on the floor of a night-filled house and wonder if things lurk near us in the corners of our rooms … and in the corners of our consciousness.

That’s normal. So are the explanations, if you’re ready to accept as reality demons, ghosts, aliens and maybe even a fairy or two.

My question: do you believe?

Over the past year, I’ve driven thousands of miles across the state of Missouri, spoken with hundreds of eyewitnesses of paranormal events and walked through dozens of cemeteries, Victorian mansions and Civil War battlefields. Each of these spots is unique, but they do have one thing in common – they’ve all had their own periods of violent history. A history so violent it may have bled into the present.

Throughout my investigations of haunted places, homeowners, tour guides, psychics and tourists have ask me the same question, do I believe in ghosts?

The word “believe” bothers me. You only believe in something because you don’t have proof it exists. If you can see it, you don’t have to believe in it … it’s just there.

That’s how I am with weird stuff; I’m looking for proof.

Unfortunately, so far, there’s really no scientific test for ghosts, demons or angels – which is too bad. I’ve interviewed enough credible eyewitnesses about haunted houses, possessions and poltergeist activity to convince me something’s going on outside our normal realm of perception.

Personally, I’ve walked through haunted buildings and stepped into spots that were at least 20 degrees lower than the surrounding air. Oh, and each time the building wasn’t air conditioned … and it was July. I’ve smelled cigar smoke in places where cigar smoke shouldn’t have existed. And I’ve heard a friend’s name called from the blank, concrete corner of an unfinished basement

Have I ever been afraid? Not really. Just uncomfortable.

Well, except maybe the phantom skateboarder who closed upon me so fast I jumped off a walking trail at 6 a.m. There was no one behind me. That at least made me nervous. My wife just laughed because, unlike me, she hadn’t heard the skateboard wheels grinding on the concrete path behind us.

But because of this, I’m ready for anything. I don’t believe in the paranormal – I’m convinced it exists.

Welcome to “From the Shadows.” Please, join me on a weekly tour into the unknown. Help me investigate ghosts, talk to people on the other side and maybe, just maybe, search for Momo, the Missouri Bigfoot.

Oh, and if at any time during “From the Shadows” you feel uncomfortable, go eat some garlic. It couldn’t hurt.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt, c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt