When Harry and I were in high school, our junior or senior year most likely, we were with a small group of friends riding around on the back roads between towns one day when we found an empty house set back a short distance from the road. We parked the car and headed in to investigate.
We walked up the long driveway. There were still a few yard ornaments hidden in the tall weeds of the yard. It was a big two story white house. We first explored every side of the house for secret entrances. We found nothing but the front and back doors.
When we tried to go inside, the doors were locked. We looked in the windows. What I remember seeing was just the shell of a house. There was no upstairs floor, just one large open area. There were windows up high that indicated there should be an upstairs, but there wasn't one. We saw many birds and/or bats flying around inside. That was the main reason we didn't try harder to get inside.
Since we couldn't get inside to cause any mischief, we ended up leaving to find somewhere else to explore. Today the house is still there. And since our exploration the house has been remodeled and currently has people living in it.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Kids in an Electronic Candy Store
It was around 1986 or 1987 when Harry and I first used a computer to go "online" and browse a virtual mall.
He had a Commodore 64 for a few years. I eventually had one of my own. We mostly played games on them. We also dabbled in programming. But when he bought a modem for it that connected the computer to the phone line, we knew the future of mankind had arrived.
With the modem came one free hour with a service called CompuServ. That was a golden hour and we didn't want to waste it. Eventually the big day came and we dialed up CompuServ. Our next stop after that was to crack into some government computer and see if we could take control of any intercontinental ballistic missiles.
And with our countdown timer started, we got connected. Everything was text based. We saw the main menu that had games, chat rooms, shopping, and more. So we chose to shop from home. Wow, I felt like we were living an episode of the Jetsons. Once in the mall there was another menu to select clothing, music, food, etc. We chose food. We went deeper and deeper until we were in a candy store. I believe we even selected some candy to buy, but we didn't get as far as purchasing. Then we logged off.
I was hoping there had been some kind of glitch and the candy would show up on Harry's doorstep anyway, but as far as I know it didn't. I don't think we ever used the full hour. And as far as I remember we only connected that one time. I know the country's defense system was never in danger.
It would be another ten years or so before I went back online when I finally subscribed to my own dial-up Internet. And now, more than another ten years later, I'm writing this.
He had a Commodore 64 for a few years. I eventually had one of my own. We mostly played games on them. We also dabbled in programming. But when he bought a modem for it that connected the computer to the phone line, we knew the future of mankind had arrived.
With the modem came one free hour with a service called CompuServ. That was a golden hour and we didn't want to waste it. Eventually the big day came and we dialed up CompuServ. Our next stop after that was to crack into some government computer and see if we could take control of any intercontinental ballistic missiles.
And with our countdown timer started, we got connected. Everything was text based. We saw the main menu that had games, chat rooms, shopping, and more. So we chose to shop from home. Wow, I felt like we were living an episode of the Jetsons. Once in the mall there was another menu to select clothing, music, food, etc. We chose food. We went deeper and deeper until we were in a candy store. I believe we even selected some candy to buy, but we didn't get as far as purchasing. Then we logged off.
I was hoping there had been some kind of glitch and the candy would show up on Harry's doorstep anyway, but as far as I know it didn't. I don't think we ever used the full hour. And as far as I remember we only connected that one time. I know the country's defense system was never in danger.
It would be another ten years or so before I went back online when I finally subscribed to my own dial-up Internet. And now, more than another ten years later, I'm writing this.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Exposing the Spy Film
With a group of high school friends, Harry and I explored an abandoned church located out in the country between our town and a nearby town. But that story will be a different post.
One day after that exploration, Harry, his mom, his brother, and I were headed to that nearby town. So one of suggested we show the abandoned church to his mom. We took the back roads and finally got to the church. We got out and were walking around the grounds when another car pulled up. An older guy got out and started talking to us. He seemed friendly, but in an awkward way. Before he left he asked if he could take our picture. For some reason we all stood in a group and smiled, he took a couple pictures, then he got in his car and left.
Then we realized, "Why would he need our picture?" Something didn't seem right. So we got in our car and the chase was on. We soon caught up to him and tailed him at a distance so he wouldn't know we were behind him.
We followed him down many country roads that I had never been on, a meandering route that ended up in that nearby town we were going to anyway. We continued following him through town until he turned into the parking lot of the very store we had been going to. He parked and walked into the store.
So Harry's mom parked her car next to this crazy guy's car. He had left his driver side window open. I got out of our car, reached into his car, and grabbed his camera that was lying in the front seat. I opened the film door and exposed the film to the bright sunlight for a few seconds, then closed the camera, put it back on the seat, and got in our car.
We drove to the other side of the lot and parked, did our shopping, and never did see or hear from that man again. It remains a mystery to this day who he was and why he wanted our picture.
One day after that exploration, Harry, his mom, his brother, and I were headed to that nearby town. So one of suggested we show the abandoned church to his mom. We took the back roads and finally got to the church. We got out and were walking around the grounds when another car pulled up. An older guy got out and started talking to us. He seemed friendly, but in an awkward way. Before he left he asked if he could take our picture. For some reason we all stood in a group and smiled, he took a couple pictures, then he got in his car and left.
Then we realized, "Why would he need our picture?" Something didn't seem right. So we got in our car and the chase was on. We soon caught up to him and tailed him at a distance so he wouldn't know we were behind him.
We followed him down many country roads that I had never been on, a meandering route that ended up in that nearby town we were going to anyway. We continued following him through town until he turned into the parking lot of the very store we had been going to. He parked and walked into the store.
So Harry's mom parked her car next to this crazy guy's car. He had left his driver side window open. I got out of our car, reached into his car, and grabbed his camera that was lying in the front seat. I opened the film door and exposed the film to the bright sunlight for a few seconds, then closed the camera, put it back on the seat, and got in our car.
We drove to the other side of the lot and parked, did our shopping, and never did see or hear from that man again. It remains a mystery to this day who he was and why he wanted our picture.
Friday, September 5, 2008
TAYE
It was shortly after the space shuttle Challenger exploded in 1986 when I had an idea. Would it be possible to build a space shuttle out of paper and launch it with bottle rockets? So I began designing my own version of the space shuttle, but on a much smaller scale.
Harry and I were very much into model rockets, space, and astronomy. So experimenting with our own home-made rocket designs was right up our alley. I soon had a prototype built and we launched it with some bottle rockets. Well, we attempted to launch it. I don't exactly remember the results of that first launch, but I know they weren't good. I built more shuttles and we had more launches. The launches usually ended up in the shuttles burning, just falling over on the launch pad, or lifting a couple of inches and exploding.
Soon a few friends joined in on the designing and launches. So we considered it our own aerospace club and called it TAYE. By 1988-1989 TAYE was in full swing with no fewer than five full-time designers. I had tested more than a dozen designs myself and the others probably another dozen collectively. We branched out from shuttles to rockets.
Then in October of 1988, TAYE had a breakthrough when a rocket designed by one of our friends actually lifted off the launch pad and flew about 15' in the air! That cranked up the excitement because now we knew it was possible to get one off the ground.
Many of these launches were recorded to audio cassette. And some (including the historical Oct '88 launch) were videotaped. Some day I would like to organize all of the TAYE footage (audio and video) and get all the launches catalogued. We kept records of every launch.
After high school graduation in 1989, the club slowly disbanded. There was a resurgence in the early 90's using Estes model rockets, but TAYE was soon shut down to inactivity and now just remains a part of aeronautical history.
Harry and I were very much into model rockets, space, and astronomy. So experimenting with our own home-made rocket designs was right up our alley. I soon had a prototype built and we launched it with some bottle rockets. Well, we attempted to launch it. I don't exactly remember the results of that first launch, but I know they weren't good. I built more shuttles and we had more launches. The launches usually ended up in the shuttles burning, just falling over on the launch pad, or lifting a couple of inches and exploding.
Soon a few friends joined in on the designing and launches. So we considered it our own aerospace club and called it TAYE. By 1988-1989 TAYE was in full swing with no fewer than five full-time designers. I had tested more than a dozen designs myself and the others probably another dozen collectively. We branched out from shuttles to rockets.
Then in October of 1988, TAYE had a breakthrough when a rocket designed by one of our friends actually lifted off the launch pad and flew about 15' in the air! That cranked up the excitement because now we knew it was possible to get one off the ground.
Many of these launches were recorded to audio cassette. And some (including the historical Oct '88 launch) were videotaped. Some day I would like to organize all of the TAYE footage (audio and video) and get all the launches catalogued. We kept records of every launch.
After high school graduation in 1989, the club slowly disbanded. There was a resurgence in the early 90's using Estes model rockets, but TAYE was soon shut down to inactivity and now just remains a part of aeronautical history.
Monday, September 1, 2008
The Cave
Harry and I loved to explore while growing up. There was a place just outside of town, not too far from our grandma and grandpa's house, that had plenty of ground to explore. It was located just behind what we called the Corner Dump. In fact, it wasn't too far from where we had our titanic rafting excursion.
But on this particular day we crossed a wide ditch, then walked across a large field, went through some woods, and found a road. We followed the road a while and came to a bluff that overlooked a lake (probably a coal mining strip pit). We made our way down the embankment to the bottom near the shore. Where the water had lapped against the dirt wall there was an area carved out that resembled a shallow cave.
So we spent a lot of time there that day, thinking we had really been great explorers to have found a "cave". It started getting late so we returned home.
I managed to go back there years later and there was no sign of the cave. It had all washed away. Had we really discovered a cave or was it a materialization of our collective imagination?
But on this particular day we crossed a wide ditch, then walked across a large field, went through some woods, and found a road. We followed the road a while and came to a bluff that overlooked a lake (probably a coal mining strip pit). We made our way down the embankment to the bottom near the shore. Where the water had lapped against the dirt wall there was an area carved out that resembled a shallow cave.
So we spent a lot of time there that day, thinking we had really been great explorers to have found a "cave". It started getting late so we returned home.
I managed to go back there years later and there was no sign of the cave. It had all washed away. Had we really discovered a cave or was it a materialization of our collective imagination?
Friday, August 29, 2008
A Scrape at the Rock Piles
One summer when Harry and I were around 13 or 14 (it was around the same time as our subterranean exploration) we were riding our bikes around the rock piles behind my house. There were some younger kids (probably around 9-12 years old) also playing at the rock piles. I remember they climbed to the top of one of the piles and started yelling at us, calling us names, trying to pick a fight.
So after a bit we climbed the pile they were on and stood next to them. We didn't fight, we just talked really mean. But that was enough to scare them pretty good. They ran off saying they were going to get their big brothers. Whatever.
A little while later we were still riding our bikes around the rock piles and the kids came back. This time they had their big brothers! They called out to us, so we stopped riding and were now sitting on our bikes. The group walked up to us and one of the older (a couple of years older than me and Harry) brothers asked if we were picking on their little brothers. We explained what happened, but they didn't like that answer. The threats started flying and the tension was buiding.
They started to surround me and Harry (still sitting on our bikes). I looked towards the road that ran beside the rock piles and beside my house and was doing some quick calculations in my mind. Just when I thought getting physical was inevitable, I hopped up onto my seat, peeled out, and pedaled as fast as I could to get to my house! I can only imagine Harry's thoughts as I left a small dust trail as I tore across the rocks, "Is he crazy? Is he gonna die? And did he just leave me here by myself?"
I glanced back behind me and saw several of the kids chasing me. A few seconds later I made it to the road. As I raced down the road toward my yard they cut across some grass and caught up to me. Just as my front tire reached my yard, one of the kids grabbed the back bar of my banana seat and pulled the bike to an immediate stop. I'm still not sure how I managed to do it, but even though the bike stopped instantly, I didn't. I somehow flung a leg up and cleared the bike, landed on my feet, and continued on foot.
I yelled back to them "This is my house! Get out of here!" But it wasn't until I was safely on the back porch looking out the back door at them that they slowly turned around and walked away. I stuck my head out the door to let them know "I just called the police!", which I hadn't but it showed I wasn't playing around.
I don't think I have ever asked Harry what happened to him after I darted off on my bike. But apparently he made it through ok. I'm sure he eventually rode up to the house to see if I had made it.
It was a close call, but we had both made it through another rough scrape.
So after a bit we climbed the pile they were on and stood next to them. We didn't fight, we just talked really mean. But that was enough to scare them pretty good. They ran off saying they were going to get their big brothers. Whatever.
A little while later we were still riding our bikes around the rock piles and the kids came back. This time they had their big brothers! They called out to us, so we stopped riding and were now sitting on our bikes. The group walked up to us and one of the older (a couple of years older than me and Harry) brothers asked if we were picking on their little brothers. We explained what happened, but they didn't like that answer. The threats started flying and the tension was buiding.
They started to surround me and Harry (still sitting on our bikes). I looked towards the road that ran beside the rock piles and beside my house and was doing some quick calculations in my mind. Just when I thought getting physical was inevitable, I hopped up onto my seat, peeled out, and pedaled as fast as I could to get to my house! I can only imagine Harry's thoughts as I left a small dust trail as I tore across the rocks, "Is he crazy? Is he gonna die? And did he just leave me here by myself?"
I glanced back behind me and saw several of the kids chasing me. A few seconds later I made it to the road. As I raced down the road toward my yard they cut across some grass and caught up to me. Just as my front tire reached my yard, one of the kids grabbed the back bar of my banana seat and pulled the bike to an immediate stop. I'm still not sure how I managed to do it, but even though the bike stopped instantly, I didn't. I somehow flung a leg up and cleared the bike, landed on my feet, and continued on foot.
I yelled back to them "This is my house! Get out of here!" But it wasn't until I was safely on the back porch looking out the back door at them that they slowly turned around and walked away. I stuck my head out the door to let them know "I just called the police!", which I hadn't but it showed I wasn't playing around.
I don't think I have ever asked Harry what happened to him after I darted off on my bike. But apparently he made it through ok. I'm sure he eventually rode up to the house to see if I had made it.
It was a close call, but we had both made it through another rough scrape.
Monday, August 25, 2008
House of Pain Update
Since posting the House of Pain story on August 4, Harry has emailed me additional details that I had originally forgotten. I remember most of his additions, but some of the details have already been erased from my memory and replaced with newer data.
So instead of a new story today, click here for the updated House of Pain story.
Enjoy.
So instead of a new story today, click here for the updated House of Pain story.
Enjoy.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Camilla - Bonus
Since posting the original 3-part series on Camilla (part 1, part 2, part 3) Jill has emailed a part of this storyline that I never knew. This is her addition to the story.
The Camilla stories triggered my memory as to the origin of the name "Camilla". One day when Amy [one of her friends] was over and her and I were by ourselves I was telling her about our "ghost" when we thought we heard something (I don't think you were home). I doubt there actually was any noise, we had just gotten ourselves scared talking about it. Anyway, we ran outside and we were sitting near the street on the south side of the house. We were too scared to go back in and then Amy said she saw the ghost looking out the little window on the staircase. I think I actually believed her, too, but she said the ghost's name was Camilla. I had never heard that name before so I thought maybe Amy could communicate with the ghost (just like the spirit bird). Anyway, we continued referring to the ghost as Camilla for a long time and finally one day I asked her where she came up with that name. She said it was the name of Grover's pet chicken on Muppet Babies. I was pretty disappointed at that because it was silly.
I guess I had heard them referring to the ghost as Camilla, so when I did the ghost writing experiment that was the name I wrote down for the ghost.
So this brings to a close the saga of Camilla. If anyone else has any more information regarding this not-so-supernatural story, please send it to me at avatarmud@gmail.com.
Thanks again to Jill for her contribution.
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death!
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
The Camilla stories triggered my memory as to the origin of the name "Camilla". One day when Amy [one of her friends] was over and her and I were by ourselves I was telling her about our "ghost" when we thought we heard something (I don't think you were home). I doubt there actually was any noise, we had just gotten ourselves scared talking about it. Anyway, we ran outside and we were sitting near the street on the south side of the house. We were too scared to go back in and then Amy said she saw the ghost looking out the little window on the staircase. I think I actually believed her, too, but she said the ghost's name was Camilla. I had never heard that name before so I thought maybe Amy could communicate with the ghost (just like the spirit bird). Anyway, we continued referring to the ghost as Camilla for a long time and finally one day I asked her where she came up with that name. She said it was the name of Grover's pet chicken on Muppet Babies. I was pretty disappointed at that because it was silly.
I guess I had heard them referring to the ghost as Camilla, so when I did the ghost writing experiment that was the name I wrote down for the ghost.
So this brings to a close the saga of Camilla. If anyone else has any more information regarding this not-so-supernatural story, please send it to me at avatarmud@gmail.com.
Thanks again to Jill for her contribution.
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death!
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
Monday, August 18, 2008
The Secret Room
In December of 1986, Harry's family moved into their current house. The upstairs was one large room that turned out to be Harry's bedroom. We had many crazy times up there.
He had a walk-in closet in his room. So one day he and I were digging through old boxes and stuff in the closet and we noticed a piece of wood in a small alcove on the left side of the closet. We cleared the way back to it and slid the wood over. There was a hole leading to a small crawlspace.
So we immediately became Indiana Harry and Jason Jones. We were always ready for adventure. Harry crawled first, I followed right behind him. We crawled in just a few feet and the passageway turned to the left. It was very dusty back there. In fact, it had probably been hundreds of years since another human being had been back there! We couldn't wait to find the lost treasure.
So we turned left and crawled for several feet and it opened up into a rather large attic opening, large enough to stand in. We were on the other side of one of the walls of his bedroom. This open area was right above their kitchen. It was a section of the house lost to ancient times. Or some would say it was unusable space. But we considered this our secret room.
We only went back there a few times over the years. And then on January 14, 1995, after Harry had moved out and his younger brother had taken over the upstairs bedroom, his brother and I took a camcorder back into the area, revealing the secret to the rest of the world. And for those who didn't learn about it from that video know about it now!
We never did find any treasure back there.
He had a walk-in closet in his room. So one day he and I were digging through old boxes and stuff in the closet and we noticed a piece of wood in a small alcove on the left side of the closet. We cleared the way back to it and slid the wood over. There was a hole leading to a small crawlspace.
So we immediately became Indiana Harry and Jason Jones. We were always ready for adventure. Harry crawled first, I followed right behind him. We crawled in just a few feet and the passageway turned to the left. It was very dusty back there. In fact, it had probably been hundreds of years since another human being had been back there! We couldn't wait to find the lost treasure.
So we turned left and crawled for several feet and it opened up into a rather large attic opening, large enough to stand in. We were on the other side of one of the walls of his bedroom. This open area was right above their kitchen. It was a section of the house lost to ancient times. Or some would say it was unusable space. But we considered this our secret room.
We only went back there a few times over the years. And then on January 14, 1995, after Harry had moved out and his younger brother had taken over the upstairs bedroom, his brother and I took a camcorder back into the area, revealing the secret to the rest of the world. And for those who didn't learn about it from that video know about it now!
We never did find any treasure back there.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Camilla - Part 3: What's In A Name?
This post will conclude the story of Camilla, the "ghost" that haunted our house when we were young. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
So how did we find out the name of this "ghost" that was haunting our house? After Jill had the dream about it, we knew what it looked like. But we wanted to learn more about it. So we did the standard tape recording of the upstairs. When some explainable noise did turn up on tape, of course that was the ghost communicating with us. So then we knew it was real!
Then one day I saw a paranormal television special that showed a piece of paper with writing on it that people claimed was the actual writing of a ghost. So I told Jill about this new experiment. We set a blank piece of paper and a pencil in Mom and Dad's closet and left it there for a few hours to make sure the ghost had plenty of time to write. Later when I went back to get the paper, I may have scribbled the name "Camilla" on the still blank piece of paper. And I may have claimed that the ghost had written it. After all, I didn't want Jill to be disappointed.
Years later we made a homemade Ouija board and used it at our dining room table. We asked Camilla many questions, and when it came time for her to spell her name for us, I secretly helped her. So this faked experience reinforced the faked experiment from years earlier. It didn't get much more professional than that!
So in conclusion, one could say that the only ghost we ever had hard evidence of was me. And I have no idea where I got the name Camilla. Maybe a real ghost planted it in my mind. . .
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death!
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
So how did we find out the name of this "ghost" that was haunting our house? After Jill had the dream about it, we knew what it looked like. But we wanted to learn more about it. So we did the standard tape recording of the upstairs. When some explainable noise did turn up on tape, of course that was the ghost communicating with us. So then we knew it was real!
Then one day I saw a paranormal television special that showed a piece of paper with writing on it that people claimed was the actual writing of a ghost. So I told Jill about this new experiment. We set a blank piece of paper and a pencil in Mom and Dad's closet and left it there for a few hours to make sure the ghost had plenty of time to write. Later when I went back to get the paper, I may have scribbled the name "Camilla" on the still blank piece of paper. And I may have claimed that the ghost had written it. After all, I didn't want Jill to be disappointed.
Years later we made a homemade Ouija board and used it at our dining room table. We asked Camilla many questions, and when it came time for her to spell her name for us, I secretly helped her. So this faked experience reinforced the faked experiment from years earlier. It didn't get much more professional than that!
So in conclusion, one could say that the only ghost we ever had hard evidence of was me. And I have no idea where I got the name Camilla. Maybe a real ghost planted it in my mind. . .
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death!
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
Monday, August 11, 2008
Climbing the Water Tower
Behind the garage of the house where I grew up was the town's water tower. I have several water tower stories, but this particular one involves me, Harry, and our grandpa.
Harry and I had always played around the water tower. The water tower served as base in many games. It was also a popular spot to ride our bikes and perform stunts. We would even climb a few feet up one of the water tower legs occasionally and jump off.
But one day we looked up one of those long silvery legs and we had an idea. I don't know about Harry, but I actually heard its cold, metallic voice whisper "Climb me". I can imagine the two of us looking up, then slowly looking down and turning toward each other, and without uttering a word both start heading up the leg.
Harry went first. As soon as he was a few feet above my head I started climbing up after him. We were going for a new height record. And who knows? Maybe we would make it all the way to the top! In the top picture above, you can see the two horizontal rings that go around the legs at 1/3 and 2/3 the way up. We soon made it to the lower ring. Wow, what a view! But there was more. So we continued the climb.
Upon reaching the upper ring, I noticed I could look over our garage and see into our back yard. I could see the sidewalk that led from the garage to the back patio. I could even see the back patio. And who was that sitting there on the patio in a lawn chair? I think he's looking up at us. Uh-oh, it's. . .
Our grandpa, with cigarette in hand, who had been watching us for a couple of minutes noticed we saw him. I will never forget those six little words he clearly shouted, clear even from our high altitude: "Get your a--es down from there!"
Without hesitation, we took his advice. And that was the highest I have ever climbed on the water tower.
Harry and I had always played around the water tower. The water tower served as base in many games. It was also a popular spot to ride our bikes and perform stunts. We would even climb a few feet up one of the water tower legs occasionally and jump off.
But one day we looked up one of those long silvery legs and we had an idea. I don't know about Harry, but I actually heard its cold, metallic voice whisper "Climb me". I can imagine the two of us looking up, then slowly looking down and turning toward each other, and without uttering a word both start heading up the leg.
Harry went first. As soon as he was a few feet above my head I started climbing up after him. We were going for a new height record. And who knows? Maybe we would make it all the way to the top! In the top picture above, you can see the two horizontal rings that go around the legs at 1/3 and 2/3 the way up. We soon made it to the lower ring. Wow, what a view! But there was more. So we continued the climb.
Upon reaching the upper ring, I noticed I could look over our garage and see into our back yard. I could see the sidewalk that led from the garage to the back patio. I could even see the back patio. And who was that sitting there on the patio in a lawn chair? I think he's looking up at us. Uh-oh, it's. . .
Our grandpa, with cigarette in hand, who had been watching us for a couple of minutes noticed we saw him. I will never forget those six little words he clearly shouted, clear even from our high altitude: "Get your a--es down from there!"
Without hesitation, we took his advice. And that was the highest I have ever climbed on the water tower.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Camilla - Part 2: The Dream
This post will continue the story of Camilla, the "ghost" that haunted our house when we were young. You can read Part 1 here.
In our house, all the bedrooms were upstairs. Mom and Dad's bedroom had a doorway connecting their room to Jill's (my sister). My room was across the hall from both of their rooms. I may have been around 8-10 years old, Jill was 6-8 years old. Dad was working nights, so it was just Mom asleep in their room. Jill was asleep in her room. And I was asleep in my room. At the time I had two small pewter figures that I carried everywhere, one was a knight and one was a viking. They both had sharp points, the knight had his sword and the viking had the horns on his helmet. And this particular night I had both figures lying on the floor by my bed.
So we had all gone to bed. I was sound asleep. The next thing I knew Jill was standing beside my bed screaming at the top of her lungs. My first thought was that she had stepped on those figures and hurt her foot, but that wasn't it. Mom came running in. Jill was crying and by now I was crying too, I didn't know what was going on. Later Mom said she thought Jill had fallen down the stairs.
So after Jill calmed down, she told us she had seen a ghost. It turned out to be a dream. And the dream caused her to sleep on a cot in my bedroom for the next few months. The dream was this (to the best of my memory):
She had seen a white, bald, faceless mannequin type figure coming into her room from Mom and Dad's room. And it had a similar-looking friend behind it in Mom's room. And they were looking for marshmallows to eat.
When Jill dreamed this she thought it was real. We're not sure if she then walked in her sleep or just came into my room half-asleep, but regardless it scared all of us that night!!! And it was the basis for many ghost hunts in the years to come.
Tune in next Friday for Part 3 of the trilogy of posts regarding Camilla. It explains how we found out what her name was. . .
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death! Tune in next Friday for the conclusion of the Camilla story.
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
In our house, all the bedrooms were upstairs. Mom and Dad's bedroom had a doorway connecting their room to Jill's (my sister). My room was across the hall from both of their rooms. I may have been around 8-10 years old, Jill was 6-8 years old. Dad was working nights, so it was just Mom asleep in their room. Jill was asleep in her room. And I was asleep in my room. At the time I had two small pewter figures that I carried everywhere, one was a knight and one was a viking. They both had sharp points, the knight had his sword and the viking had the horns on his helmet. And this particular night I had both figures lying on the floor by my bed.
So we had all gone to bed. I was sound asleep. The next thing I knew Jill was standing beside my bed screaming at the top of her lungs. My first thought was that she had stepped on those figures and hurt her foot, but that wasn't it. Mom came running in. Jill was crying and by now I was crying too, I didn't know what was going on. Later Mom said she thought Jill had fallen down the stairs.
So after Jill calmed down, she told us she had seen a ghost. It turned out to be a dream. And the dream caused her to sleep on a cot in my bedroom for the next few months. The dream was this (to the best of my memory):
She had seen a white, bald, faceless mannequin type figure coming into her room from Mom and Dad's room. And it had a similar-looking friend behind it in Mom's room. And they were looking for marshmallows to eat.
When Jill dreamed this she thought it was real. We're not sure if she then walked in her sleep or just came into my room half-asleep, but regardless it scared all of us that night!!! And it was the basis for many ghost hunts in the years to come.
Tune in next Friday for Part 3 of the trilogy of posts regarding Camilla. It explains how we found out what her name was. . .
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death! Tune in next Friday for the conclusion of the Camilla story.
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
Monday, August 4, 2008
House of Pain
Harry and I went to an old house in the middle of nowhere a few miles outside of our town with another boy from school. He was a year or two younger than us. We knew him, but never hung out or did things together, so I'm not sure why we were with him on this particular day. Harry must have been at least 16 because the house is too far out of town to have ridden our bikes. So we were a little older for this story.
This house had once been a large two-story farmhouse (if I remember correctly). And no one had lived in it for years. So what were we doing out there? Speeding the effects of time on an abandoned building, of course. We were throwing bricks, kicking things down, just causing harmless damage to an old object that didn't mind.
And then this boy's face went white as he saw a vehicle driving up the lane to the house. Harry and I did the natural thing, we ran and hid behind something large (a fallen down section of wall if I remember correctly). The vehicle stopped and it was this boy's dad. They didn't live too far from there. And then the terror hit me and Harry.
This boy's dad got out and started yelling at him and cussing. I don't think he was happy that his son was there. And then we heard his dad hitting him. Ouch! There was no way we were showing ourselves, we just hoped the boy didn't say anything about us being there too. After what seemed like eternity they both got in their vehicle and left.
Needless to say, as soon as the dust from their vehicle was gone we were in ours and headed home! I haven't been in that area for a LONG time but I doubt the house is still there. And when we saw the boy at school again we never did mention that day to him.
Monday, August 25, 2008 - UPDATE
After reading this story, Harry provided these additional details via email:
Harry and I had a friend with us that day. We three had been out presumably looking for trouble when we found this abandoned farm "complex". In addition to the house there was an old barn and possibly one or two sheds. There was a U-shaped driveway and we hid the car behind the last building. The boy in this story lived near there and rode up on his bicycle and joined us in our "destruction fever". So Harry, our friend, and I were in the barn when we heard another vehicle pull up. And that was the boy's dad. You can read the original story above for what happened next, but the way Harry put it was "...his dad turned into Mr. T on a pissy bad hair day!"
Harry's epilogue: Harry talked to the boy at school the next Monday. Harry nervously mentioned the incident and the boy said it was no big deal. Nothing was ever said again about that day.
This house had once been a large two-story farmhouse (if I remember correctly). And no one had lived in it for years. So what were we doing out there? Speeding the effects of time on an abandoned building, of course. We were throwing bricks, kicking things down, just causing harmless damage to an old object that didn't mind.
And then this boy's face went white as he saw a vehicle driving up the lane to the house. Harry and I did the natural thing, we ran and hid behind something large (a fallen down section of wall if I remember correctly). The vehicle stopped and it was this boy's dad. They didn't live too far from there. And then the terror hit me and Harry.
This boy's dad got out and started yelling at him and cussing. I don't think he was happy that his son was there. And then we heard his dad hitting him. Ouch! There was no way we were showing ourselves, we just hoped the boy didn't say anything about us being there too. After what seemed like eternity they both got in their vehicle and left.
Needless to say, as soon as the dust from their vehicle was gone we were in ours and headed home! I haven't been in that area for a LONG time but I doubt the house is still there. And when we saw the boy at school again we never did mention that day to him.
Monday, August 25, 2008 - UPDATE
After reading this story, Harry provided these additional details via email:
Harry and I had a friend with us that day. We three had been out presumably looking for trouble when we found this abandoned farm "complex". In addition to the house there was an old barn and possibly one or two sheds. There was a U-shaped driveway and we hid the car behind the last building. The boy in this story lived near there and rode up on his bicycle and joined us in our "destruction fever". So Harry, our friend, and I were in the barn when we heard another vehicle pull up. And that was the boy's dad. You can read the original story above for what happened next, but the way Harry put it was "...his dad turned into Mr. T on a pissy bad hair day!"
Harry's epilogue: Harry talked to the boy at school the next Monday. Harry nervously mentioned the incident and the boy said it was no big deal. Nothing was ever said again about that day.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Camilla - Part 1: Bloody Mary
While we were growing up, the upstairs bathroom at my house contained a portal to a dimension full of ghosts and spirits. It was a doorway to another realm. A room in which we dared not sit alone in the dark. Well, that's what Harry, Jill, and I thought anyway.
It was the hub for many of our ghost hunting activities. But one ritual in particular that stands out in my mind was Bloody Mary. I think it's a standard urban legend, but when Harry brought the idea from St. Louis I thought we had stumbled upon a portal to the afterlife. It was usually just me and Harry doing it, but I think Jill found the courage to join us a couple of times.
We would sit in the bathroom with the lights off (and it was pitch black with the lights off). Then we would say "Bloody Mary" three times and look into the full-length mirror on the wall and we would see the face of Bloody Mary!!! I saw it almost every time we did it. It was amazing, and scary, all at the same time. And so were our imaginations.
We did various other ghostly things in the bathroom, but Bloody Mary is the one that stands out in my memory.
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death! Tune in next Friday for the continuation of the Camilla story.
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
It was the hub for many of our ghost hunting activities. But one ritual in particular that stands out in my mind was Bloody Mary. I think it's a standard urban legend, but when Harry brought the idea from St. Louis I thought we had stumbled upon a portal to the afterlife. It was usually just me and Harry doing it, but I think Jill found the courage to join us a couple of times.
We would sit in the bathroom with the lights off (and it was pitch black with the lights off). Then we would say "Bloody Mary" three times and look into the full-length mirror on the wall and we would see the face of Bloody Mary!!! I saw it almost every time we did it. It was amazing, and scary, all at the same time. And so were our imaginations.
We did various other ghostly things in the bathroom, but Bloody Mary is the one that stands out in my memory.
*** In March of 2000, I recorded a song called "Camilla". It was about our ghost hunting while growing up. It talks about Bloody Mary, the Spirit Bird (as discussed in this previous post), and a dream Jill had of a white mannequin-thing eating marshmallows that scared her half to death! Tune in next Friday for the continuation of the Camilla story.
Click here to listen to "Camilla"
Click here to read the lyrics to the song
Monday, July 28, 2008
New Bicycle
It was Harry's 14th or 15th birthday. We had done about all we could with our K-Mart Special bicycles, so for his birthday his parents got him a new ten-speed bike. We were both so excited. Now our thoughts shifted from bike stunts to speed.
After the party he and I took it out for its maiden flight. I was still on my K-Mart special, but I was able to keep up with him. We rode all the way down Main Street to the south end of town. And this is what we were doing:
We were riding side-by-side, one of us was on the sidewalk, the other on the road. When we came to a driveway, we would cross over and switch places. So now the one that had been on the sidewalk was on the road and vice versa. So we kept switching, trying to go faster and faster. We got to the end of Main Street and turned around. We headed home doing the same thing.
In the picture above (taken in 2008), imagine Harry riding his bike near full speed on the sidewalk coming from the right. And now imagine the smooth sidewalk that meets the road not there, but instead a deep ditch. I was riding on the road next to Harry and watched as his front tire hit that ditch at full speed. The bike stopped and he flew over the handlebars. I can't remember if it was his elbow or knee that got scraped up. But we went to a nearby house and thr lady cleaned up his wounds.
Imagine what was going through our families' minds when they saw us returning from the bike ride with Harry bandaged up and riding my bike and me pushing Harry's bike in a wheelie position (because the front wheel was bent and wouldn't roll). I can't remember if they were more concerned that his new bike was trashed or that he got hurt.
The bike was repaired and passed its initiation. But it had a long road still ahead.
After the party he and I took it out for its maiden flight. I was still on my K-Mart special, but I was able to keep up with him. We rode all the way down Main Street to the south end of town. And this is what we were doing:
We were riding side-by-side, one of us was on the sidewalk, the other on the road. When we came to a driveway, we would cross over and switch places. So now the one that had been on the sidewalk was on the road and vice versa. So we kept switching, trying to go faster and faster. We got to the end of Main Street and turned around. We headed home doing the same thing.
In the picture above (taken in 2008), imagine Harry riding his bike near full speed on the sidewalk coming from the right. And now imagine the smooth sidewalk that meets the road not there, but instead a deep ditch. I was riding on the road next to Harry and watched as his front tire hit that ditch at full speed. The bike stopped and he flew over the handlebars. I can't remember if it was his elbow or knee that got scraped up. But we went to a nearby house and thr lady cleaned up his wounds.
Imagine what was going through our families' minds when they saw us returning from the bike ride with Harry bandaged up and riding my bike and me pushing Harry's bike in a wheelie position (because the front wheel was bent and wouldn't roll). I can't remember if they were more concerned that his new bike was trashed or that he got hurt.
The bike was repaired and passed its initiation. But it had a long road still ahead.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Bird Hunting
The day was April 3, 1988. Harry and I were riding around with a friend on the back roads near our town. Harry was driving his mom's white Ford Crown Victoria, our friend was in the passenger seat, and I was sitting in the center of the bench seat in the back.
We were driving along the road in the picture above. It has since been repaved, but at the time the road had some large potholes in it. We weren't just joyriding, we were out sniping enemy birds. We were armed with .22's in a heavily fortified mobile unit.
As the car slowly crawled along the road, we watched for birds sitting on fences or on the ground. When one of us would spot a bird the car would stop, the person with the best shot would poke his gun barrel out the window, and the bird usually ended up on the ground with the last thoughts of "Maybe I should have flown away."
After many successful hits, we were headed back to town. In the excitement of the last shot (of which I hadn't been the shooter) I forgot my gun was still loaded. As the car rolled along the country road one of the tires hit a large pothole, I was bounced in my seat, and the gun sitting across my lap fired. We had all the windows rolled down, so the blast wasn't as loud as it could have been. But the bullet went through the passenger side door to my right, shattering the glass that was down inside the door.
Harry stopped the car, we checked that we are all still alive, then we headed home. There was no hiding this one. The small bullet hole in the interior of the back passenger door and the outward dent on the outside of the door where the bullet hadn't quite made it all the way through the door meant we couldn't even fabricate a story to hide the truth. We cleaned the broken glass out of the back seat and I kept this bag of it as a memento of stupidity (see picture above).
Sometimes teenagers just don't think!
We were driving along the road in the picture above. It has since been repaved, but at the time the road had some large potholes in it. We weren't just joyriding, we were out sniping enemy birds. We were armed with .22's in a heavily fortified mobile unit.
As the car slowly crawled along the road, we watched for birds sitting on fences or on the ground. When one of us would spot a bird the car would stop, the person with the best shot would poke his gun barrel out the window, and the bird usually ended up on the ground with the last thoughts of "Maybe I should have flown away."
After many successful hits, we were headed back to town. In the excitement of the last shot (of which I hadn't been the shooter) I forgot my gun was still loaded. As the car rolled along the country road one of the tires hit a large pothole, I was bounced in my seat, and the gun sitting across my lap fired. We had all the windows rolled down, so the blast wasn't as loud as it could have been. But the bullet went through the passenger side door to my right, shattering the glass that was down inside the door.
Harry stopped the car, we checked that we are all still alive, then we headed home. There was no hiding this one. The small bullet hole in the interior of the back passenger door and the outward dent on the outside of the door where the bullet hadn't quite made it all the way through the door meant we couldn't even fabricate a story to hide the truth. We cleaned the broken glass out of the back seat and I kept this bag of it as a memento of stupidity (see picture above).
Sometimes teenagers just don't think!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Paper and Fire
When Harry and I were around thirteen we grabbed some notebook paper and some matches and sat at their back door (on the right side of the house in the picture below).
What could we do with paper and matches? Something mischievous to be sure. The first thing we did was make paper airplanes, we were experts at that from making them at school. After we found a design that would fly a considerable distance, we made several of them and set them on fire and threw them in the yard. Their flight distance decreased while engulfed in flames.
After the airplanes it was time to chill. So we sat back on the steps to the basement, rolled up a few cigarettes using the notebook paper, and proceeded to smoke like our grandpa. But one puff on those college-ruled stogies and we were finished! If you've never smoked notebook paper... don't. I think the tops of my lungs are still charred from the short experience.
And that's a couple of things teens can do with paper and fire.
What could we do with paper and matches? Something mischievous to be sure. The first thing we did was make paper airplanes, we were experts at that from making them at school. After we found a design that would fly a considerable distance, we made several of them and set them on fire and threw them in the yard. Their flight distance decreased while engulfed in flames.
After the airplanes it was time to chill. So we sat back on the steps to the basement, rolled up a few cigarettes using the notebook paper, and proceeded to smoke like our grandpa. But one puff on those college-ruled stogies and we were finished! If you've never smoked notebook paper... don't. I think the tops of my lungs are still charred from the short experience.
And that's a couple of things teens can do with paper and fire.
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Spirit Bird
The house where we grew up was a very special house. For if you sat real still and quiet in the dark and had been a good boy or girl, you just might hear the faint whistle of the Spirit Bird, sent from Heaven itself! So that's what Harry and I told my younger sister, Jill, when we were young.
I remember sitting in the living room in the dark and telling her to be quiet and listen for the Spirit Bird. I told her I had read about the Spirit Bird in the Bible and it only visited special kids. And Harry backed me up by claiming he had read the same passages. So while I was whispering about the Bird, Harry would sneak across the room and start whistling like a bird.
"There it is!" I would say. "Can you hear it?"
"Yes!" Jill would reply with excitement. She must have thought she was really special if the Spirit Bird was visiting her.
And on very rare occasions one might catch a glimpse of it. That's when one of us would have a flashlight and give a quick flash in the direction Jill wasn't looking so she only caught a glimpse of it out of her peripheral vision. A bird that glowed in the dark, how magical!
I remember doing this on a few different occasions, it wasn't just a one-time joke.
And Jill, if you are reading this, I hate to tell you the Spirit Bird isn't real.
{tweet-tweet-tweet}
Or is it???
I remember sitting in the living room in the dark and telling her to be quiet and listen for the Spirit Bird. I told her I had read about the Spirit Bird in the Bible and it only visited special kids. And Harry backed me up by claiming he had read the same passages. So while I was whispering about the Bird, Harry would sneak across the room and start whistling like a bird.
"There it is!" I would say. "Can you hear it?"
"Yes!" Jill would reply with excitement. She must have thought she was really special if the Spirit Bird was visiting her.
And on very rare occasions one might catch a glimpse of it. That's when one of us would have a flashlight and give a quick flash in the direction Jill wasn't looking so she only caught a glimpse of it out of her peripheral vision. A bird that glowed in the dark, how magical!
I remember doing this on a few different occasions, it wasn't just a one-time joke.
And Jill, if you are reading this, I hate to tell you the Spirit Bird isn't real.
{tweet-tweet-tweet}
Or is it???
Monday, July 14, 2008
Boxcars
There is a place on the west side of town where Harry and I used to ride our bikes and spend hours playing around. To get to that part of town you have to cross a set of railroad tracks.
There is only one set of tracks there now, but in the picture above you can see where there used to be another set on the right. On that siding, long train consists, usually boxcars, were left for weeks or months at a time. I can remember visiting the trains a couple of times. We were always worried we would surprise, or be surprised, by a hobo or bum.
On one occasion we took a friend and a tape recorder with us. We recorded ourselves for at least an hour just running and playing around the boxcars. It was fun when a train came on the main line. We would jump into one of the stationary cars and watch the speeding train fly by.
There was another time when it was just Harry and me on a very cold day. We were climbing up into the boxcars to get out of the wind and cold. And we had a means of making fire with us. So we found a bunch of trash and built a fire inside one of the boxcars to keep ourselves warm. I remember looking back as we left for home, there was still smoke coming out of the door.
But now those tracks are gone and our days of playing in boxcars are long gone.
On one occasion we took a friend and a tape recorder with us. We recorded ourselves for at least an hour just running and playing around the boxcars. It was fun when a train came on the main line. We would jump into one of the stationary cars and watch the speeding train fly by.
There was another time when it was just Harry and me on a very cold day. We were climbing up into the boxcars to get out of the wind and cold. And we had a means of making fire with us. So we found a bunch of trash and built a fire inside one of the boxcars to keep ourselves warm. I remember looking back as we left for home, there was still smoke coming out of the door.
But now those tracks are gone and our days of playing in boxcars are long gone.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Messing with Trains
We lived a block from the railroad tracks. So we flattened many pennies in our day. But we eventually moved on to bigger things...
Lying not too far from the tracks were some old track parts, spikes, and old ties. One day when we were in our early to mid teens we found a wooden railroad tie still at its full length, so we decided to set it across both rails of the tracks to see what happened when a train hit it. We set it in place and waited... and waited... and then we heard the train whistle several miles down the track. Showtime!
The picture above shows the approximate location of this story. We ran a short distance and hide behind some bushes within site of the tracks (on the right side of the picture). The tension was building. The suspense was killing me. We gave no thought to the fact that this was extremely dangerous, we just wanted to see the timber explode. And we were not disappointed.
Just before the train hit it I lowered my head and closed my eyes. I heard the explosion of wood and soon small pieces of wood were raining down around us. The tie really had exploded into hundreds (or thousands) of pieces. After the train was gone we assessed the damage. There were a few pieces left of the timber, but most of it had been turned into toothpicks.
Lying not too far from the tracks were some old track parts, spikes, and old ties. One day when we were in our early to mid teens we found a wooden railroad tie still at its full length, so we decided to set it across both rails of the tracks to see what happened when a train hit it. We set it in place and waited... and waited... and then we heard the train whistle several miles down the track. Showtime!
The picture above shows the approximate location of this story. We ran a short distance and hide behind some bushes within site of the tracks (on the right side of the picture). The tension was building. The suspense was killing me. We gave no thought to the fact that this was extremely dangerous, we just wanted to see the timber explode. And we were not disappointed.
Just before the train hit it I lowered my head and closed my eyes. I heard the explosion of wood and soon small pieces of wood were raining down around us. The tie really had exploded into hundreds (or thousands) of pieces. After the train was gone we assessed the damage. There were a few pieces left of the timber, but most of it had been turned into toothpicks.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Mad Dog
Today's story turns the danger level way down. There are no bikes, guns, or monsters involved. But it does involve Harry and me being left home alone again.
This was probably about the same time as our Young Houdinis stunt when we were twelve or thirteen. I was spending the week with Harry in St. Louis and both of his parents were at work. We wandered into the kitchen looking for something to do. We were thirsty. The pantry and refrigerator were both full of liquids and condiments. So we got out a cup and started collecting ingredients.
This may not be such a rare thing to do, but I can still remember the awful smell and chunky texture of the drink we made. I obviously can't remember everything we mixed, but I know we started with liquids like juice, chocolate milk, soda, lemonade, and whatever else they had in the house at the time. Then we started adding seasonings such as salt, pepper, chili powder, and whatever they had in their spice rack. And then we added additional flavors such as mustard, Worcestershire sauce, and whatever else we could find.
I'm not sure who named it Mad Dog or why, but the name has stuck with us all these years. To describe the look of the drink would turn a billy goat's stomach. But we did each take a drink of our concoction.
This is not an actual picture of our drink, but it sure looks like it (ours had more things floating in it though). Would you take a drink of something that looked like that?
And this wasn't the only time we did it. We tortured ourselves a couple more times in the next several years with other versions of our Mad Dog drink.
This was probably about the same time as our Young Houdinis stunt when we were twelve or thirteen. I was spending the week with Harry in St. Louis and both of his parents were at work. We wandered into the kitchen looking for something to do. We were thirsty. The pantry and refrigerator were both full of liquids and condiments. So we got out a cup and started collecting ingredients.
This may not be such a rare thing to do, but I can still remember the awful smell and chunky texture of the drink we made. I obviously can't remember everything we mixed, but I know we started with liquids like juice, chocolate milk, soda, lemonade, and whatever else they had in the house at the time. Then we started adding seasonings such as salt, pepper, chili powder, and whatever they had in their spice rack. And then we added additional flavors such as mustard, Worcestershire sauce, and whatever else we could find.
I'm not sure who named it Mad Dog or why, but the name has stuck with us all these years. To describe the look of the drink would turn a billy goat's stomach. But we did each take a drink of our concoction.
This is not an actual picture of our drink, but it sure looks like it (ours had more things floating in it though). Would you take a drink of something that looked like that?
And this wasn't the only time we did it. We tortured ourselves a couple more times in the next several years with other versions of our Mad Dog drink.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Happy New Year
It was almost midnight on December 31, 1984. For some strange reason Harry and I were at his house alone (our families were probably together somewhere). We were both thirteen and looking for something special to do for the new year. I'm sure it didn't take us too long to come up with this idea.
He had a bean bag. It was the kind that had a zipper and inside were thousands of very small Styrofoam balls. He also had a ski mask. And that is all we needed to make this a memorable holiday.
As midnight drew near, Harry donned the ski mask. The countdown on TV began. We unzipped the bean bag. He assumed the kneeling position. And at the stroke of midnight he held his breath and submerged his head in the small sea of Styrofoam balls. What we hadn't taken into consideration was static electricity. When he finally pulled his head out of the bag, there were Styrofoam balls everywhere. The mask now looked white.
But we were only half done, I still had to take my turn. This time we headed outside to the small front porch. I suppose there are weirder things to see on New Years, but anyone driving by that night would have to wonder why I was outside in the cold sticking my head in a bean bag. And I have one piece of advice for those who decide to try this: when your head is inside the bag, DO NOT INHALE.
This is the house (as of June of 2008) where we rang in 1985.
He had a bean bag. It was the kind that had a zipper and inside were thousands of very small Styrofoam balls. He also had a ski mask. And that is all we needed to make this a memorable holiday.
As midnight drew near, Harry donned the ski mask. The countdown on TV began. We unzipped the bean bag. He assumed the kneeling position. And at the stroke of midnight he held his breath and submerged his head in the small sea of Styrofoam balls. What we hadn't taken into consideration was static electricity. When he finally pulled his head out of the bag, there were Styrofoam balls everywhere. The mask now looked white.
But we were only half done, I still had to take my turn. This time we headed outside to the small front porch. I suppose there are weirder things to see on New Years, but anyone driving by that night would have to wonder why I was outside in the cold sticking my head in a bean bag. And I have one piece of advice for those who decide to try this: when your head is inside the bag, DO NOT INHALE.
Neither the cold nor the mess mattered, for 1985 had arrived!!!
This is the house (as of June of 2008) where we rang in 1985.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Clubhouse Trap
Our first garage was a long, narrow shed that was divided into several sections. The picture below shows it from behind as it was being torn down in early 1987.
At the end near the road (left side of the picture) was the large garage door to park a vehicle inside the garage. The next section was a small area with a work bench and Dad's tools on the walls. The next section had concrete walls and looked like it once held animals of some sort. And the last section (far right in the picture) was a two-seat outhouse. Guess which section we called our clubhouse. The outhouse.
We spent a lot of time in our clubhouse. The picture above was taken from the outside looking in. We held our top secret meetings and many of our valueless treasures in there. I guess it was because of those reasons that we decided it needed protection.
We rigged a long board across the inside of the clubhouse so when the door was opened, the board would drop down and land on the intruder. It worked in theory, but we needed to test it out. Fortunately (for us) Jill was home. So we set up the trap, called her outside, then sat back and watched to see if our masterpiece in engineering would live up to our expectations. It couldn't have been more successful! In fact, when Jill opened the door the board fell down, landed on her head, and knocked her loose tooth out. Obviously this sent Jill screaming and crying but in my mind and Harry's mind we had succeeded in designing and building our own security system.
At the end near the road (left side of the picture) was the large garage door to park a vehicle inside the garage. The next section was a small area with a work bench and Dad's tools on the walls. The next section had concrete walls and looked like it once held animals of some sort. And the last section (far right in the picture) was a two-seat outhouse. Guess which section we called our clubhouse. The outhouse.
We spent a lot of time in our clubhouse. The picture above was taken from the outside looking in. We held our top secret meetings and many of our valueless treasures in there. I guess it was because of those reasons that we decided it needed protection.
We rigged a long board across the inside of the clubhouse so when the door was opened, the board would drop down and land on the intruder. It worked in theory, but we needed to test it out. Fortunately (for us) Jill was home. So we set up the trap, called her outside, then sat back and watched to see if our masterpiece in engineering would live up to our expectations. It couldn't have been more successful! In fact, when Jill opened the door the board fell down, landed on her head, and knocked her loose tooth out. Obviously this sent Jill screaming and crying but in my mind and Harry's mind we had succeeded in designing and building our own security system.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Monster in the Closet
One of our interests while growing up was anything having to do with the supernatural. Harry, Jill, and I would tape record in our house to try to catch ghosts talking or making other noises. Over the years we held seances, used a home-made Ouija board, and tried other methods of communicating with the dead.
So when we didn't get the results we wanted, sometimes we created our own. One such manufactured tale took place in what was my bedroom at the time. We were upstairs telling the usual ghost stories and hoping something would happen. But as was always the case, nothing was happening. So while Harry kept Jill occupied in her room I went down the hall to my room, created some commotion, slammed my closet door, then used my fingernails to scrape 'claw marks' on the inside of my bedroom door frame.
I then ran back to the others and explained what had happened: a large wolf-like beast had leapt at me from my closet and as I barely escaped my bedroom it swiped at me with its razor-sharp claws and scratched the doorway. I then took them to my room and showed them the marks on the door.
As you can see in the above picture, the 'claw marks' are still there in 2008. I believe Harry and I were in on this together, but little Jill believed the story. So we finally got what we had been after for a long time, our own ghost story.
So when we didn't get the results we wanted, sometimes we created our own. One such manufactured tale took place in what was my bedroom at the time. We were upstairs telling the usual ghost stories and hoping something would happen. But as was always the case, nothing was happening. So while Harry kept Jill occupied in her room I went down the hall to my room, created some commotion, slammed my closet door, then used my fingernails to scrape 'claw marks' on the inside of my bedroom door frame.
I then ran back to the others and explained what had happened: a large wolf-like beast had leapt at me from my closet and as I barely escaped my bedroom it swiped at me with its razor-sharp claws and scratched the doorway. I then took them to my room and showed them the marks on the door.
As you can see in the above picture, the 'claw marks' are still there in 2008. I believe Harry and I were in on this together, but little Jill believed the story. So we finally got what we had been after for a long time, our own ghost story.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Subterranean Explorers
There was a large ditch near our house where we often played, especially after heavy rains. At one end was an entrance to an underground drainage system. But to me and Harry it was the entrance to an underworld of unexplored caves!
We entered with a flashlight and waded down the ever changing passageway. It was deep at some parts, then it got shallow. The tunnel would widen and get taller, then shrink again so we had to crouch to get through. There were small holes along the sides where water could drain in from smaller ditches. There were also plenty of spiders and bugs.
And after what seemed like miles, we found a drainage grate above us that led back to the outside world. So we slowly pushed the grate open, expecting to be at the other end of town. But we came up in somebody's yard about two blocks away from where we had started. Somewhat disappointed in the short distance we had actually traveled, we climbed out into the yard, replaced the grate, and walked back home. That was the last time we adventured in those tunnels.
We entered with a flashlight and waded down the ever changing passageway. It was deep at some parts, then it got shallow. The tunnel would widen and get taller, then shrink again so we had to crouch to get through. There were small holes along the sides where water could drain in from smaller ditches. There were also plenty of spiders and bugs.
And after what seemed like miles, we found a drainage grate above us that led back to the outside world. So we slowly pushed the grate open, expecting to be at the other end of town. But we came up in somebody's yard about two blocks away from where we had started. Somewhat disappointed in the short distance we had actually traveled, we climbed out into the yard, replaced the grate, and walked back home. That was the last time we adventured in those tunnels.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Bicycle Chicken
Harry and I were in our early teens. We rode our bikes everywhere. We loved trying new bicycle stunts. And one day we had an idea.
The idea was this: we would ride our bikes towards each other at high speed and at the last minute we would both jump off to safety while the bikes collided in a spectacular fireless explosion. It could possibly be the coolest bike stunt we had ever attempted.
The picture above is the road where we did this stunt (and many others). This is the view from where Harry started. I started in the center of the picture at the intersection by the stop sign. The collision point was in the middle of the street about even with the light brown telephone pole on the left side of the picture.
So we got in our starting positions. We pointed out bikes at each other. We both signaled we were ready. The adrenaline started pumping. And then we both started. We rode faster and faster. The distance between our front tires was getting shorter and shorter. This would take precision timing like never before, but we were 'experts'. Having both waited as long as possible, it was time. We both threw a leg over the center bar and at the very last second we jumped.
I can imagine what Jill, my younger sister, was thinking as she stood in our yard (on the right side of the picture) and watched. It was probably along the lines of "Should I call an ambulance?"
Of this, one of our biggest stunts to date, we had planned every aspect except one: which side of the bikes each of us would jump off. For as the bikes barreled towards each other and we jumped, we had both picked the same side. So as the bikes collided on the street, we collided in the air, and what resulted was a heap of twisted metal and stunt man flesh. After untangling from the carnage, we did both walk away from it. Again, we somehow escaped serious injury. And it was the last time we attempted that stunt.
The idea was this: we would ride our bikes towards each other at high speed and at the last minute we would both jump off to safety while the bikes collided in a spectacular fireless explosion. It could possibly be the coolest bike stunt we had ever attempted.
The picture above is the road where we did this stunt (and many others). This is the view from where Harry started. I started in the center of the picture at the intersection by the stop sign. The collision point was in the middle of the street about even with the light brown telephone pole on the left side of the picture.
So we got in our starting positions. We pointed out bikes at each other. We both signaled we were ready. The adrenaline started pumping. And then we both started. We rode faster and faster. The distance between our front tires was getting shorter and shorter. This would take precision timing like never before, but we were 'experts'. Having both waited as long as possible, it was time. We both threw a leg over the center bar and at the very last second we jumped.
I can imagine what Jill, my younger sister, was thinking as she stood in our yard (on the right side of the picture) and watched. It was probably along the lines of "Should I call an ambulance?"
Of this, one of our biggest stunts to date, we had planned every aspect except one: which side of the bikes each of us would jump off. For as the bikes barreled towards each other and we jumped, we had both picked the same side. So as the bikes collided on the street, we collided in the air, and what resulted was a heap of twisted metal and stunt man flesh. After untangling from the carnage, we did both walk away from it. Again, we somehow escaped serious injury. And it was the last time we attempted that stunt.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Our Titanic
Not far from our town are the strip pits. These are deep holes that the coal mine dug out and have since filled with water. They are considered very dangerous because of their depth. And there have been a few people drown in them over the years.
So with that background on the strip pits, let us begin today's story. Harry and I went out to the strip pits with a friend. We had an inflatable raft with us. It was time to take our adventures to the water.
We arrived, inflated the raft, and headed out with paddles. Now I am not one that loves water. I might be able to swim if my life depended on it, but I don't plan on ever putting that to the test. But on that day I almost did.
We had paddled quite a ways out into the muddy waters and had just settled in for a little relaxation. Then we heard the ~hiss~ sound that one does not want to hear while in the middle of a deep, dirty lake on an inflatable raft. Somehow the raft sprung a leak. We tried to paddle to the shore but we did not get far. The raft quickly took on water and before we knew it the raft was riding on us. I cannot remember if I had a life-vest on or not, but I know I was hanging on to that deflating raft for dear life.
Eventually all three of us made it back to the shore. Our aquatic adventures were over for the day. We dried off as best we could and headed back home.
So with that background on the strip pits, let us begin today's story. Harry and I went out to the strip pits with a friend. We had an inflatable raft with us. It was time to take our adventures to the water.
We arrived, inflated the raft, and headed out with paddles. Now I am not one that loves water. I might be able to swim if my life depended on it, but I don't plan on ever putting that to the test. But on that day I almost did.
We had paddled quite a ways out into the muddy waters and had just settled in for a little relaxation. Then we heard the ~hiss~ sound that one does not want to hear while in the middle of a deep, dirty lake on an inflatable raft. Somehow the raft sprung a leak. We tried to paddle to the shore but we did not get far. The raft quickly took on water and before we knew it the raft was riding on us. I cannot remember if I had a life-vest on or not, but I know I was hanging on to that deflating raft for dear life.
Eventually all three of us made it back to the shore. Our aquatic adventures were over for the day. We dried off as best we could and headed back home.
Friday, June 13, 2008
You'll Shoot Your Door Out
We loved our bikes. We also loved our guns.
Our town had an area set aside to store large piles of rock. The 'rock piles' were right behind my house. They were also near the Township Building, a community hall. And the back doors of the Township Building were made entirely of glass.
One day when Harry and I were in our early teens, we were with a friend playing Army at the rock piles with our guns (either BB or pellet). At the time there were also large metal drainage pipes being stored there, so we were running and hiding behind the pipes and the rock piles, "attacking" the invisible enemies with our guns. Suddenly during one of our attacks, we heard a 'ping' and one of the back doors of the Township Building instantly spider-webbed. The door had been shot.
We immediately went home and disposed of the guns. Within a few days I noticed the shattered door had been taped up, presumably to hold the glass in place. And eventually it was replaced with a new door. This was one of our big secrets for a long time.
These are the back doors of the Township Building in June of 2008.
Our town had an area set aside to store large piles of rock. The 'rock piles' were right behind my house. They were also near the Township Building, a community hall. And the back doors of the Township Building were made entirely of glass.
One day when Harry and I were in our early teens, we were with a friend playing Army at the rock piles with our guns (either BB or pellet). At the time there were also large metal drainage pipes being stored there, so we were running and hiding behind the pipes and the rock piles, "attacking" the invisible enemies with our guns. Suddenly during one of our attacks, we heard a 'ping' and one of the back doors of the Township Building instantly spider-webbed. The door had been shot.
We immediately went home and disposed of the guns. Within a few days I noticed the shattered door had been taped up, presumably to hold the glass in place. And eventually it was replaced with a new door. This was one of our big secrets for a long time.
These are the back doors of the Township Building in June of 2008.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Young Houdinis
When I was 12 or 13, I spent a week during summer break in St. Louis at Harry's house. We could really come up with some mischievous activities when left alone all day while his parents were at work. And we were really into bicycle stunts (or any kind of stunt really). We had too much Bo and Luke Duke in us.
One day we had an idea for a great bike stunt. He had a bicycle chain with a three-number combination lock on it. So he would wrap the chain around my body several times and lock it with my arms pinned down at my sides. Then I would lie across the sidewalk. He would ride his bike to the end of the block and on "Go" he would ride his bike towards me while I was trying to get the combination lock open and out of the way of his speeding bike. Then we would switch roles. I would ride the bike and he would have to escape. We took turns doing this for a while.
We were able to escape most of the time. But there were a couple of times that we didn't and small entanglements of bike and kid resulted from it. But neither of us were seriously injured and it sure was fun.
One day we had an idea for a great bike stunt. He had a bicycle chain with a three-number combination lock on it. So he would wrap the chain around my body several times and lock it with my arms pinned down at my sides. Then I would lie across the sidewalk. He would ride his bike to the end of the block and on "Go" he would ride his bike towards me while I was trying to get the combination lock open and out of the way of his speeding bike. Then we would switch roles. I would ride the bike and he would have to escape. We took turns doing this for a while.
We were able to escape most of the time. But there were a couple of times that we didn't and small entanglements of bike and kid resulted from it. But neither of us were seriously injured and it sure was fun.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Introduction
I have tried several times to start writing down memories so they will not be forgotten. There are probably some things that I remembered 10-15 years ago that I do not remember now. In another 10-15 years there will probably be many things I do not remember that I do remember now. So this blog will be my attempt to record what memories I do remember now so they will not be forgotten.
So how do I organize something this big? I have 36 years of memories I want to record. Do I organize them by city (where I lived at the time or where the memory took place) or by time period (when I was in grade school or high school or when I was 3 or 25) or by people associated with the memory? I'm not sure yet.
But to get things started, there is an easy category to write about. One that will have many entries. One that should be interesting to read. And one that may surprise people that it's me I am writing about. I am talking about the adventures and dangers I have experienced with my cousin, Harry.
How were we never arrested? How were we never hospitalized? How afraid am I that my son will follow in my footsteps? Very!
Check back every Monday and Friday for the latest memories. . .
So how do I organize something this big? I have 36 years of memories I want to record. Do I organize them by city (where I lived at the time or where the memory took place) or by time period (when I was in grade school or high school or when I was 3 or 25) or by people associated with the memory? I'm not sure yet.
But to get things started, there is an easy category to write about. One that will have many entries. One that should be interesting to read. And one that may surprise people that it's me I am writing about. I am talking about the adventures and dangers I have experienced with my cousin, Harry.
How were we never arrested? How were we never hospitalized? How afraid am I that my son will follow in my footsteps? Very!
Check back every Monday and Friday for the latest memories. . .
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