Haunted America: Afterlife, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness

The area along Highland Street was a nice residential neighborhood, except for all the dead bodies.

To be fair, I was probably the only one who knew they were there. The neighborhood, a couple of blocks from my home, was the site of the old Great Island Cemetery, once the oldest cemetery in the county. It had been moved in 1919, and houses built there, but the move had been done by the lowest bidder, and a lot had been left behind. It was safer to say they'd moved the top half.

I had my EMF detector out.

I walked the streets, taking readings. The cemetery had been created back in the 1700s, and it had some Revolutionary War soldiers buried there. Some of them still were. With the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of America happening this summer, I was expecting a surge in activity.

I got some spikes along the way, the readings going up and down as I passed some of the houses. 

Pleasant night.

My name is Lou. I live in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania. You might know it as halfway between Penn State and Williamsport, or the home of Piper Aviation. If you're really good, you might know it as the birthplace of James Bacon, or Jimmy Carter's favorite town.

I know it as one of the most haunted, adventure-filled places in the state. I'm a paranormal investigator and the field leader of the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers, and it was shaping up to be a fairly busy summer. With the 250th anniversary of the country coming up, there was a lot more paranormal activity happening recently.

When your life ends, my workday begins.

Chloe and I arrived at the same time, heading up the stairs to Jay and Lex's place in the Clinton Trust Building. I dropped by jacket on the floor for the purpose of the cats lounging on it, which they always do, and dug in my backpack.

"Jay, I got the cemetery book from Chapman Township for you. And here's a copy of my Wayne Township book. We saw the Shadle family from the fire when we were in Saint John's Cemetery the other day."

"Oooh, thank you," said Jay.

"Chloe, got you a copy of the Worst-Case Survival Handbook. My mother gave me one years ago, I think because she was resigned to the fact that I was going to get into these situations."

Chloe paged through it. "This stuff has actually happened to you?"

"About half of it."

"How to wrestle an alligator."
"You never know."
"Well, I do go to Florida. How to jump off a bridge into a river."

"In my younger days."

"How to escape from killer bees."

"Could happen."

"How to jump out of a moving vehicle."

"Twice."

"How to escape from a bear."

"A few times. So I want you to learn all this stuff, and then never get into situations where you might need it."

"What time do we want to leave for the investigation?" asked Jay.

"I figure half an hour early or so. I'd like to stop out at Dunnstown Cemetery with you guys. Dunnstown is the oldest community in Clinton County, and I wanted to show you a few graves. The oldest marked grave in the county is out there."

"That sounds good," said Jay. "Is it time to eat yet?"

You have to wonder what's gone wrong with your life when you spend half your time running around cemeteries. I walked through the Dunnstown Cemetery with the team following, Chloe clicking photos with her camera.

"Here it is," I said. "William Baird. The oldest marked grave in Clinton County. September of 1792."

"Wow," said Jay. The stone was so old it had had to be encased in an extra layer of concrete to hold it up. 

"Dunnstown was only recently founded during that time. William Dunn bought all the property from the Susquehannocks for some whiskey, beads, and a rifle. Over here is Peter Grove, a Revolutionary War soldier. Grove Street is named after him."

I stood by a stone, looking it over, touching it. Behind me, Lex and Chloe were whispering something about how I don't get any older, or something---I don't know. They do that sometimes. Jay stood next to me, looking at the stone.

"Oh my god, you guys," I said. "You know what I just realized? It's not called this anymore, but very near here was a village called Liberty back in the 1800s. At the beginning of the America 250 summer, we're starting off with an investigation near Liberty."

"Yes!" said Lex. "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of the paranormal."

"Give me Liberty and give me death."

The client was an old friend of Chloe's family, a nice lady in a wheelchair. We sat in the living room as Lex filled out some of the paperwork for the investigation.

"We hear things," said the client. "There was one time when we thought we saw someone in the hall, and they left a trail of footprints through the hallway. When I went to sweep them up, it was a sort of very fine black dust. I never did figure out what that was."

"That's interesting," I said. "I wonder where that could have come from."

"One more thing," said Lex. "Confidentiality."

"We can keep everything to ourselves if---" I said, but she waved her hand dismissively.

"I don't care. Tell whoever."

Lex checked off the box and had her sign, and handed the form to me. I said,"Since there's no real hot spots, let's start here. Chloe, get lots of photos. Check EMFs everywhere. The temperature baseline seems to be about seventy."

I put on the full outfit---shoulder bag, fingerless gloves, hood. The clientg looked at me curiously. "Are you gonna stay covered up the whole time?"

"No, this is just part of the outfit. I'm prepared for a couple of things."

We spread out through the room. I walked around, taking EMF readings. I didn't have to pay too much attention to the others; they know what they're doing.

"Do you have a lot of activity on investigations?" asked the client.

"Some more than others," said Lex. "Our first one this year was an abandoned funeral home, and that was really active. I got to lie down on an autopsy table."

"Oh, that's neat," said the client. "I want to see an abandoned ffuneral home."

"It was my first time," said Chloe. "I was scared to death."

I looked over at her. "I didn't know you were scared."

"Well, I wasn't going to admit it to you."

"I have a spike over here," said Jay, in the kitchen. "Spiking to red."

Chloe walked in. "Mine, too."

"The cat balls are going off."

"Okay, since we're getting activity here, let's start an EVP session," I said. "We have our recorders?"
'Got mine," said Lex.

"Turning on," I said. "Let's get started."

"If you like, you can go in the basement," said the client.

"There's a basement?" I asked.

"Right over there."

"Let's split up," I said. "Lex and I will take the basement, and Jay and Chloe can handle things up here."
"Sounds good," agreed Lex.

We walked down the stairs. The basement was finished, mostly, a nice little living space. We walked around and took a few readings, and spotted the hole in the wall.

The hole was a square cut out of the wall for the purpose of getting at the pipes and electricity. I glanced at Lex.
"So you know we gotta do this."

"Hell, yeah, we do."

I climbed into the hole. Lex followed a moment later. We walked behind the wall, all the way to the back of the house. I got high EMFs at the fuse box, which was expected. There wasn't too much to explore within the hole, and we climbed back out a moment later and went upstairs.

"You guys mind if we take a turn in the basement?" asked Jay.

"Sure," I said. "Go ahead. We'll hold the fort up here."

Chloe and Jay went down the stairs. I sat at the table with Lex. She said,"You think they're gonna go in the hole?"

"If I had to put money on it, I'd bet no."

"Yeah, I don't think so."
Jay and Chloe came back up a moment later. Lex asked,"Did you go in the hole?"

"No," said Jay. "Of course not."

"There was a hole?" asked Chloe.

"Called it," I said, and Lex and I high-fived.

"Why would you go in a hole?" asked Jay.

"Why wouldn't you go in a hole?" Lex said just before I could.

There's two kinds of people.

"You know," said Chloe as we packed up,"If we hurry, we have time to work in another cemetery visit."

"I've always wanted to show you guys Highland," I said.

She lit up. "We can go to Henry Shoemaker's grave!"

The EMF detector spiked to red suddenly. Jay said,"Did you see that?"

"I guess we're on for Highland," I said. "The ghosts want us to visit Shoemaker."

I still can't believe I get to experience moments like this.

Jay and Lex had never been up to Highland Cemetery. They hadn't spent a whole lot of time exploring cemeteries until I'd shown up. I directed Lex to the top of the hill, where we parked and got out to look around. Chloe was wearing my jacket; it was getting a little cold out.

"Up here, guys," I said. "Over near Soldiers' Circle. Here's Henry Shoemaker."

I'd been to the grave so many times I didn't even need to look. Henry Wharton Shoemaker, the writer and historic figure, was buried at the top of Highland Cemetery with his wife. 

I knelt down by the stone.

"This is it, guys. This is him."

The team gathered around me in the moonlight.

"Chills all around," said Lex.

Cloudy With A Chance Of Hauntings

Every once in a while, Tif and I tried to have breakfast together, almost like we were normal people. It was a pleasant Friday morning. We sat at McDonald's, eating our breakfast and chatting before work.

"Been at kind of loose ends lately, adventure-wise," I said, drinking my coffee. "I had all sorts of fun running around Lancaster and New Castle, but now that that's over with, I don't know what else to do. It's been slow."

"Oh, god," said Tif.

"What?"

"You get into some of the craziest ones when you get bored. When you have nothing to do for a while, out come the maps and Shoemaker books, and you get into something insane."

"I mean, I hope. I could use something like that right now. I thought I was going to get to investigate a haunted tobacco store, but that turned out to be nothing."

"Nothing on the horizon?"

"Couple of potential adventures scheduled in June. Nothing too exciting planned right now. I don't always do wild stuff when I get bored."

"Remember that time you had Biz and me put a rain spell on the whole city? What was that, about fifteen years ago?"

"Something like that. 2007 sounds about right."

"That was interesting. Something like that, maybe?"
"Right now, just about anything would do."

Tuesday night. Michelle and Paul were out taking Biz grocery shopping, and I had the house to myself. Sort of. Rosie and Butters were around, and Cookie the hamster, and Ida was around someplace. You're never really alone in my house.

I heard the wind outside, kicking up. A storm was coming. I stepped out onto the back porch to watch.

I love storms. They're like a free firework show with a somewhat slow-paced but exciting movie. I stood on the porch for a while, watching as it built.

Thunder and lightning. I love that. The wind was pounding everything; I watched our tree blow back and forth violently. I could hear the garbage cans get knocked over on the northwest side of the house. I stopped just out of range of the rain and watched for a while.

"What's for dinner?" Michelle asked as she came into the house.

"Sausage, corn, and baked potatoes," I said. "After dinner, I need to run up to Highland Cemetery to get some photos."

"Okay."

"There was some tree damage from the storm. I've sold the idea of an article to my editors, so I need some photos to send with it." I put the sausage in the oven. "I wonder if that stirs up the ghosts."

I turned the oven on. Then I stopped to think about that.

Then I sat down at my computer and sent a message to the team.

"So....Highland?" said Tif.

This time, we were sitting on the sidewalk on Main Street, in front of the Texas Restaurant. We were having Growlers, a specialized chili dog. It's the closest thing you can get to a Lock Haven cuisine. 

I nodded. "We have some trees down up there. A lot of the time, damage can cause more activity, similar to the way home repairs do. It seems to rile them up. So I'm taking the team up to check it out."

"When you going?"

"Saturday evening seems to be the best time. I checked with Dave, the cemetery manager. He wants to join us."

"Think you'll find anything?"

"We'll see. The potential is definitely there."

"At least it'll keep you busy."

"Which is probably best for society anyway."

"Lou?" Tom called back. "Two guys are here asking for you."

"Thanks, Tom." I walked up to the front office, expecting some sort of history question, and instead found Tim an Devaughn standing by the counter. I grinned.

"Hi, guys! What's up?"

"Well, we stopped by to check and see what equipment we need for Saturday," said Tim.

"I'd say the basic stuff. We don't need anything too complicated; just what you can carry. We'll meet up at the top of the cemetery---Drive up the hill and look for Soldiers' Circle."
"We also wanted to order some stickers and business cards," said Tim. "And we need a logo designed for the team."

"My friend Emily can help you with that," I said. "Emily?"

Emily stood up from her desk and brought over an invoice. "Sure, I can help with that. When do you need it by?"

"June seventh would be good if you can," said Tim. "If not, that's okay too."

"I think that's plenty of time," said Emily. 

"LHPS has a logo, I think SPI needs one, too," said Tim. "LHPS is a ghost. For ours, maybe a haunted house or something?"

"I can come up with something," agreed Emily.

"Just run it past Lou when you get it," said Tim. "I trust him."

"I trust Emily," I said. "She's really good."

"Dad, can you walk me down to Juliet's?" Paul asked.

I looked at my watch. I had plenty of time, and it was a nice day out. "Sure," I said. "Come on, let's go."

We walked down to his friend's house, a block and a half away. When Paul tapped at her door, Juliet appeared, and Paul handed her a popsicle.

"Hey, kiddo," I said,"Is your mom home?"

"Sure," said Juliet. She ran upstairs. A moment later, her mother appeared.

"Hi, Amanda," I said. "Sorry to bug you."

"Oh, it's no problem," she said. "What's up?"

"We're going to investigate Highland Cemetery tonight," I said. "About seven to nine-ish. Would it be okay with you if I invited Juliet along?"

"Sure, she'd love that."

Paul ran to grab Juliet, and said,"Juliet! Do you want to come and investigate a cemetery with---"

"Yes," said Juliet.

I smiled. "We'll pick her up and drop her off."

It was seven when we stopped at Highland and got out. Me, Tim, Devaughn, Vince, and Petey, plus Paul and Juliet. I was wearing my usual outfit---The LHPS uniform, black jeans, black bandanna, boots with skulls on them, fingerless gloves, and the tactical vest. 

"Storm damage is over here," I said. "Looks like they've started cleaning some of it up. We had a few trees down up here along the top, mostly right around this area."

Tim's outfit was a lot like mine, but more official-looking somehow. He had a polo shirt with symbols on the sleeves, a vest and equipment belt, and heavy fingerless gloves. Devaughn had a more military-style outfit with cargo pants, an equipment belt, and a camouflage jacket with paranormal patches all over it.

"You want your vest right now?" I asked Paul.

He  shook his head. He was still in his soccer uniform from that morning, which he took some pride in. "Not right now, Dad."

"I'll wear it," volunteered Juliet.

I put it on her. It fit better than I thought it would; she's pretty tiny, but it worked well enough.

"This is Soldiers' Circle," I said. "The first black soldier to fight with a white unit in World War I is here. Over there is a guy who was an honor guard at Lincoln's funeral. John Sloan, the famous artist, is over there. That statue down there---That's Peter Meitzler. He was built with a beer glass in his hand, but during Prohibition, some temperance ladies came along and smashed it off."

"Really?" Paul asked. "Where?"
"I'll show you. My suggestion tonight is we set up shop near the Kistler Mausoleum; we've had activity there before."

"We have some new 3D printed stands for the EMF detectors," said Tim. "Wait until you see."

"Do you have any more equipment, Dad?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, kid, it's all in the black bag."

We began unpacking. Vince and Tim got out their EMF detectors, and set them up on stands around the mausoleum. I took some photos and checked things out with my all-in-one. Juliet followed along, fascinated by it all.

Paul and I walked down the path to the Meitzler statue, overlooking the city. I said,"See? You can see where his fingers are all broken off, where he was holding the glass."

"I see it," agreed Paul. "They should put it back."

"That idea has been proposed," I admitted.

We walked back toward Soldiers' Circle, where Tim and Devaughn were exploring. I said,"Henry Shoemaker's grave is right over there."

"Well, I gotta see this," said Tim.

We walked over to Shoemaker's grave. I'd been there a million times before; Shoemaker was one of my big heroes. Tim said,"I love this. Get my picture, Devaughn."

I took a walk around the top of the cemetery. All of the historic people up here....Former mayors, business owners, writers. It had been slow since returning from Lancaster, but this was exciting. I'd always loved Highland Cemetery; to me it represented the best of Lock Haven's past. I always came out of it knowing I was going to end up here myself one day....And thinking, Well, that's okay.

I rejoined the others. We walked around the loop at the top of the hill, taking reading and looking at the historic graves. Then we returned to the Kistler Mausoleum.

"The EMF detectors are lighting up," Devaughn pointed out.

The detectors we'd set up around the mausoleum were spiking from green to yellow. I walked around to the north side. "Over here, too. And there's no reason for it---There's no lights, no power lines up here at all."

"No," agreed Tim. "Didn't you say you'd gotten some activity like this before?"

I nodded. "Several years ago, I was up here with Millie and Charlie. We got a lot of similar activity, without any explanations, right here in this same mausoleum. It's probably Gertrude Kistler, who drowned on a family vacation when she was twelve, in 1920---Her grandparents are here."

"Still going," said Vince.

I looked over the flashing lights.

"We got activity, guys. We got this."

 It was a nice night. After, Paul and Juliet were hanging out on the trampoline in the backyard. I brought out some reheated hot dogs for them.

"Here you go, guys. Eat up." Paul had claimed to be hungry after the investigation, which wasn't surprising. For some reason, I often come home from investigations hungry myself, and he's always hungry these days.

The two of them ate their hot dogs. I said,"You guys learn anything tonight?"
Juliet nodded with some enthusiasm. "Yeah!"

I asked,"You have a good time?"

"Bet," said Paul.

"Yeah!" said Juliet. "And it kept me busy all night!"

I smiled.

"Me too."

Home Is Where The Haunt Is

I found Paul sitting alone in the rental car.

I climbed in. He was watching his tablet as he sat in the car on the driveway. I sat in the front seat, and turned to face him.

"How you doing?" I asked.

"Good." Paul was fine. He just likes rental cars, the same way he's always liked hotel rooms.

"I had a thought," I said. "You know your mom's gonna be away on a business trip Monday to Thursday. Gonna be just you and me at the house. First off, let me know what you want for dinner and I'll make it. Whatever you like."
"I'm going out with Sissy on Monday."

"Wednesday, then."
"Okay."

"Second. did you know we've lived in this house for twenty years this month? Your mom and I moved in here twenty years ago. I figure, I'll let you stay up late a bit, and you and me will do some ghost hunting. It's been a while. How about that?"

"Yeah," Paul said.

"Sounds good."

We'd first moved into the house in the Hill Section in October of 2003. Michelle and I had been married for just over a year, and my mother had died the previous May. We'd looked at a few houses within our price range, most of which invariably fell into the category of "Better than homelessness, probably."

The house, a smaller one with a nice view of the neighborhood, had appealed to us. I'd liked the basement, which I'd planned to use as a secret headquarters until I realized that it flooded and I'd moved operations to the second floor. 

We'd begun hearing unexplainable sounds and having experiences almost immediately. I'd dug into the history of the house, and gotten back as far as 1905 when I'd found Ida Yost.

Ida was seventeen. Her mother had died, and she'd been abused by her father. On August 19, 1905, Ida had committed suicide on what is now my back porch.

We'd heard footsteps in the hallway and on the stairs. Things move around. Sometimes at night, with everyone else in bed, I'd heard Ida walking around in the room with me.

You get used to it.

"After dinner, Daddy, do you want to hunt for some ghosts?" Paul asked. 

"Sure." We were sort of foraging for dinner, which Paul tends to do anyway. I was eating a leftover hot dog from the weekend, and Paul was making himself a bagel. We were wearing our matching Bigfoot Patrol shirts, which were as good as anything else to hang around the house in.

"Can I stay up late with you?" Paul asked.

"Not too late, because you have school tomorrow. But I'll let you stay up until ten."

"Ten-fifteen?"

"Okay. Ten-fifteen."

I went upstairs to my office. I didn't need the entire tactical vest; I was just hanging around my own house. I got out my laser thermometer and my EMF detector, and then grabbed Paul's, too. I squeezed the trigger on the thermometer, and it flickered to life and went out again immediately. The exciting life of a ghost hunter.

I walked downstairs. "Think I need a battery replacement in my thermometer," I said. "I think your EMF detector is acting up, too. Might need to get a nine-volt to replace it."

I replaced the batteries, and we checked around a bit. I said,"Baseline about seventy degrees. No outstanding EMFs. Anything on your end?"

Paul shook his head. "Nope." He picked up the 9-volt battery. "Can't you start a fire with this and lint?"

"Steel wool. Lint burns quick, but you need the steel wool to make a spark."

"Can we do that?"'

"If we have steel wool."

I found some in the cabinet and pulled it out. "Let's do this in the sink, so we don't burn something."

Paul touched the steel wool to the battery terminals, and it sprung into sparks immediately. It's always nice when he remember these survival techniques I taught him. I said,"You have homework?"

"I left my folder at school."

"Okay. Tomorrow, then." How much math can the kid need? He can already negotiate fifteen more minutes of bedtime.

I walked through the house with my EMF detector. I got a small flicker in the TV room, which is not unusual. I called,"Got a little bit of a spike in the TV room. Went to orange."

"Could be Ida," said Paul.

"Could be. She does act up in there sometimes, especially when I have Charlie's Angels on."

First thing in the morning. Paul and I waited outside the house next door, with Butters on a leash. We'd been waiting for five minutes when the little girls next door came outside.

"You brought Butters!" said little Sekiya, delighted.

"He likes to go to the bus stop and see all the kids," I said.

We walked down the street. I said,"You'll like this, Serina. This morning, I have to go over to a house to arrange for moving some gravestones. You know how there used to be a cemetery down the street, and they moved it in 1919? Some stones have turned up in someone's yard, and we're arranging to move them to Highland Cemetery."

"This morning?" Paul asked.

"Ten-thirty."

"And I'll be in school?!?"
"I'll bring photos to show you," I said. "I promise."

I reached down and overturned the stone, embedded in the ground. Carefully, I laid it down as Justin and Dave watched. It was the gravestone of Clarissa Mahan, sister-in-law to our town founder.

"Clarissa," I said.

Justin was the head of the Genealogical Society, and Dave managed Highland Cemetery. Justin said,"We can have these moved up to Highland and placed there, where they belong."

"Probably moved up in the spring," said Dave. "We can keep them there, but right now Highland has no money."

"That's okay, we can put them in the ground for free. CCGS can contribute a bit toward repair."

"These things have been here, undiscovered, for over a century," I said. "Now we're going to put them in Highland. I want to break this story."

"You can have the front page," said Justin.

Dave got out his dowsing rods and started testing them, looking for other gravestones. I'm not a fan of dowsing and he knows it; we'd had some of those discussions over a few beers. It's a little like being friends with SaraLee; you can see where the science ends and the wild stuff begins. You learn to not comment on it.

I stood up. "Justin, I've heard some rumors that Great Island Cemetery extended further back than what we'd thought, maybe even over toward Maple Street. You ever come across anything like that?"

"It's possible, but I never heard anything. Have you checked the 1869 map?"

"Yeah, but there's a lot of empty space nearby. The 1869 map has north pointing in the wrong direction; I'm not sure it's as accurate as you think. Besides, I suspect there was some unofficial interring outside the gates....You know John Michael Conley?"

Justin grinned. "Criminal buried somewhere in Great Island. Headless guy."

"Not at first. but yeah. His skull was stolen. He was never found when they moved the cemetery. Hell, maybe he's here."

Justin grinned. "He wouldn't be alone."

I grinned back. "You know the Woman in White and the Woman in Black?"

"Yep. This same cemetery. People saw the two ghosts walking around."

"A while back, I figured out who those might be. There were two female bodies here that were petrified. Both were moved to Flemington. It stands to reason that they were the two female ghosts; their names were Madeline Yost and Catherine Phillips."

"Are there more gravestones?" Dave asked the dowsing rods, and they swung apart, pointing widely to his right and left. I watched him with my arms crossed. 

He glanced in my direction. "Where's Lou?" he asked.

Both of them swung immediately to point at me.

I grinned. 

"Well, I'll be damned."

Paul and Serina caught me in my office. "You ready to go out, Daddy?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm good." I was sitting in my chair, working on the tac vest.

"What're you doing?"
"I'm making a couple of adjustments to the vest; making it a bit easier to use."
Serina squinted at it. "This pocket---" She pointed to the first aid pouch. "---Was on the back before."

Serina's pretty perceptive when it comes to my ghost-hunting stuff. "Yeah, I removed a panel of pouches on the front right side. Moved first aid from the belt up to where I can reach it better; safety first. I'm adding the comlink pouch and a storage pouch, too, for now."

"Looks good," said Paul.

"Hoping for an investigation sometime soon, try it out," I said. "Let's go out."

We were in the vehicle, eating Taco Bell. My wife was driving, with Paul and Serina in the back seat. I said,"Once we're done with our food, you guys want to take a ride up to Highland Cemetery?"
"Sure," said Paul.

"Yeah!" said Serina.

"I  want to take a look, see if Dave managed to stake out the area we're moving the stones to yet."

Paul turned to Serina. "Ida's grave is in Highland."

"Ida? I want to see."

A few minutes later, Michelle turned the jeep into Highland Cemetery and pulled up the road. Paul pointed. "Isn't Ida up there under that tree?"

"That's right," I said. "That's her family plot."

"Is this where you want to stop?" Michelle asked.

"Yeah. Just for a minute."
Ida's grave is under a tall tree on a steep slope, at the lower part of the cemetery. We walked up the concrete stairs and up to it, the small stone with her name and the dates on it.

"So here's Ida," said Serina.

I nodded.

"Here's Ida."

I was flipping through the cemetery indexes when Tif rolled into the library. I said,"Oh, hi, honey. Just so you know, we're having rat loaf for our family dinner tomorrow."
"Rat loaf?"

"Yeah. It's like meat loaf, but rattier." 

I flipped open a haunted cookbook and showed her the photo of meat loaf in the shape of a rat. She said,"Can't wait. Anything new on the job?"

"Nothing yet. Radio silence. They're taking forever to get around to announcing. I been keeping myself busy," I said. "I'm working on Great Island Cemetery."

"Don't you already know everything about Great Island Cemetery?"

"I only talk like I do. I was looking into the Great Island ghosts---One of them is named Lena Yost. Look, she was moved to Flemington according to the Great Island records. She was only sixteen; her parents died later and were buried in Highland. It looks like she was moved there; she's on the Highland listing. Now, I have reason to think she's one of the ghosts, the woman in white, or in black, I'm not sure of the color."

"Okay."

"I was curious; I decided to check on the last name. I looked at Ida's genealogy book. Turns out, Madeline and Ida were distant cousins. One of the Great Island ghosts is related to the ghost in my house."

I stood with Justin on the hill, watching as the guy unloaded the gravestones. He said,"We'll call Dave, make sure these are where they're supposed to be. We can readjust them in the spring, but for now, we'll have them up here where they belong."
I had my "Paranormal Investigator" shirt on, and my cold-weather vest. It was thirty-eight degrees out. I said,"I'll write it up for the Express."
'We've made history today," he said.

I nodded. "The stones are where they belong. And maybe, once I get my article in, we'll hear from other people who've found their own stones. Maybe one day, we'll be able to collect up all of the old Great Island Cemetery."

At night, before bed, I always take the dogs out. With Butters on his leash, I walked outside in the cold, standing on the dark sidewalk  by the "Tami For City Council" sign.

Twenty years. Over a third of my life, I'd lived on this street. I looked down toward Bellefonte Avenue and thought about all the other people who'd lived here, over the years. Rebecca Gross. William Elliott. Roy Probst. Isadore Lipez. All part of Lock Haven's history.

All of them.

And me.

The Fall Of The House Of Fishburn

There weren't supposed to be kids in the Tiger Den.

I was on my way home from work after a busy day with a three-hour webinar from hell. Last year at this time, I'd have stopped to lock up the Tiger Den, the local playground in my neighborhood. But that was in the Before Times, when Coronavirus hadn't closed everything down. The Tiger Den was supposed to be locked to avoid spreading the virus.

But I was seeing it---Gate open, lock missing, and kids playing on the swings. I stopped for a moment and watched. One of the girls from the grocery store across the street was watching, and she said,"I thought the parks were supposed to be closed."
"Yeah, they are," I said. "I should call the mayor." I always feel pretentious saying stuff like that.
I dug my cell phone out of my pack. Five minutes later, Mayor Joel was getting out of his car.
"What the hell?" he said as he approached the gate.
"Yeah, I know," I said. "Lock's completely gone."
He looked it over. "Someone just took it off the chain," he said. "Could be someone making a political statement."
"Yeah, I thought about that."
"I have a temporary one for now," he said. "I'll send somebody to replace it with a better one in the morning." He clipped one on. "I mean, who would do this? Makes me mad."
"Yeah, I knew you wouldn't be thrilled about this."
Joel laughed. "Nah, you did the right thing by letting me know. Thanks."
"You know how to find me if you need anything," I said. "Gonna go home and tell my son how I teamed up with the mayor to save the Tiger Den."

"Dutcavich....Etters....Fegler..."

I stood in my office, filing the obituary cards for the Pennsylvania Room. The Ross Library has newspapers going back as far as 1813, and a new part of my job was to file the new index cards as they came in. I'd been at it maybe an hour.

So I took a break for a moment. Messing with history wears you out. I sat down at my desk and checked my e-mail, and I was surprised to find a message from someone I hadn't heard from in a while.

I flipped through the index, and then stopped, looking at one of the cards. I laughed. Pulling it from the drawer, I walked over to my co-workers at the desk.

"You guys gotta see this," I said. "Death of a kid in 1876. Look at the name."

Mel squinted at the card. "Fishburn. Edgar Allan Poe Fishburn."

"Edgar Allan Poe Fishburn," I repeated. "The perfect find for October. I wonder if his parents were fans."

"You have to assume so," said Barb. 

"Let me guess," said Tracey. "You're going to dig into this a little more."

"I think I will," I admitted. "I might find something I can use on a tour, actually, or write about. I mean, how do you not look into a kid named after Poe? I'll see if I can find his grave, but personally, I'm hoping he's buried under floorboards, or sealed in a wall or something."

"Got an e-mail from John today," I told my wife.
"John...."
"Piper Museum."
"Oh, right, the president," she said. "They want you back?"
"He asked if I'd be willing to take on the Piper newsletter again," I said. "They haven't had one since I left, and he said it was often a pretty good fundraiser."
"You gonna do it?" Michelle asked.
"I'm thinking about it,"  I said.
A few years ago, I'd been curator of an airplane museum on the east end of Lock Haven. Though I'd loved the work, I'd felt I wasn't spending enough time with my son, and I'd resigned two years ago. Since then, I'd gone on to some other things that took up less time.
"I'm going to meet with him," I said. "Sometimes I miss the museum, though not as much as I'd thought I would, and I really miss John. We'll sit down in his office like we used to, and talk things over."
"Are you taking Paul down?"
"Thought I might," I said. "He always loved the place. It'll be good to see the Aztec again."

It had been two years.

I hadn't seen the inside of the Piper Museum since I'd resigned in 2018. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed it until I walked inside with Paul, seeing all the artifacts and displays again.

"They still have the Super Cruiser model," I said. "I hung this up myself."

The receptionist, Stacey, came around the corner. She was visibly surprised to see me. "Hi, Lou," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"Came to meet with John," I said. "Is he around?"

"He's out to lunch. You remember how that goes."

"I do. I'll get with him later if I have to. Okay if I go walk through the hangar?"

"Sure. Help yourself."

Paul and I walked down to the hangar, and strolled around the planes. I touched the Aztec, which had always been my favorite plane.

Hello, old friend. I've missed you.

"Daddy, don't touch stuff," said Paul.

"Yeah, you're right," I said. "Look. This green one is new---A new Tri-Pacer. This wasn't here when I was."

"Cool," said Paul.

I started with the newspapers.

It took me a while, with the microfilm. The further back you go, the screwier it gets, but I'm probably the person in the county who is most used to that. Finally I found it in a blurry column at the top of page four, the son of Dr. J.H. and Rebecca Fishburn, with a scribble of poem included.

I checked the cemetery records, and to my surprise found most of his family buried in Highland. His mother, brother, and sister were buried in Section 11, over the top of the hill. I checked the rest of the county---Sometimes weird things happen---And didn't find Edgar anywhere. His grave was unmarked, which was probably about right for a kid named after Poe.

So I grabbed a city directory and looked for the houses. Interestingly, his brother had grown up to live on my street, and married the daughter of Mayor William Elliott, who lived next door. His mother had lived at 315 East Main Street.

Every one of them had died young, including Mayor Elliott.

Nevermore.

"Maybe there will be people on top of that building again," Paul commented as we sat down at the table with our Chinese food.

"Maybe." The city had been opening up downtown areas for outdoor dining on the weekends---One little positive effect of the pandemic. Michelle dug into the bag and passed out our food.

"I chose something to surprise you," she said. "Picked it from the spicy menu."

"Looks good," I said. "I could use a little bit of spicy today." I opened the egg rolls. "When we're finished, you want to take a ride up to Highland Cemetery?"

"Yay! Highland!" said Paul.

"We got nothing else to do," Michelle agreed.

After dinner, we rode up to Highland Cemetery in the Prius. Michelle said,"Where are we going?"

"Section I."

"I have no idea where that is."

"Take the lower loop, the back way around to the hill."

"Just tell me when to stop."

"Turn left."

We pulled up along the back end of the cemetery, and I got out. A moment later, Paul was following, wearing his black dress.

"I'm sinking, Daddy," he said.

"That's because you're wearing high heels."

"What are we looking for?"

"Graves with the name Fishburn." This kind of thing is a little easier now that Paul is learning to read.

I saw it almost immediately. Partway up the slope, I spotted the graves of Rebecca and her other children. "Here they are," I said.

Paul came over. "You found Fishtail?"

"These are the ones I needed," I said. "And here's a space, right here...."

"What do we do now?" Paul asked.

I knelt down. "This is where Edgar Allan Poe is buried," I said.

"How do you know?"
"I can tell by looking. See how there's a space here? The grass is a little greener, and the ground takes a dip. This is the grave of a child."

"It looks like I won't be going back to Piper, after all," I said, sitting down at the table. "They hired a new weekend guy, and the board thinks he can do the newsletter."

"Ah, sorry, Dad," said Tif. We were on the third floor of the library for my lunch break. "I know you were looking forward to that."

I unwrapped my sub. "Well, I'll survive. Spend more time at home with Paul. Write another book. Find a few adventures. But it was good to go and visit the place again."

Paul looked over at me. "If they need you to help sometime, will you?"

"Probably," I said. "I always did love that place. If they asked, I'd help."

"Can I come, too?"

"Sure," I said. "You can always come along and help."

"And see the planes?"

"And see the planes."

Pandemic: Sounds Like Teen Spirit

"Daddy, I'm full," said Paul.
This happens a lot. Paul reaches his limit pretty quickly, especially when he realizes he didn't feel like eating what he asked for, after all. The main difference was this time, we were eating bologna slices outside in his play tower.
"Okay, go ahead and throw the rest of that to the animals," I said.
He climbed down the ladder and began tearing the bologna up, laying pieces down. "I'm making a trail for the animals. Maybe they'll come in my tree house."
I climbed down after him. "One of these days, I need to teach you to make a deadfall trap."
"Can we do it now?"
"You want to learn now? Okay."
I gathered up a couple of sticks and a log, and knelt down near the pine tree. I drove one stick down into the dirt, and carefully propped the log up in the Y-split. Then I picked up one of Paul's plastic dinosaurs. A Triceratops.
"Okay, we need bait. What do you think the dinosaur will eat?"
He handed me a shard of baloney.
I speared it on one of the protruding sticks, and said,"Okay. See, we prop the big log up here. Then we wait. Let a trap do your waiting; it's more efficient. When the dinosaur comes along and tries to get the baloney...." I moved the dinosaur forward, jostling the stick. The log immediately wiggled loose, and came slamming down. I just barely managed to get my hand out of there.
"Cool!"
"That's how you can catch animals if you need to," I said. I put the log back where I'd found it---The last thing I wanted was to come out and find an actual squirrel under it or something. "So remember that."
"Can I have a banana now?"
"I suppose, sure."

I led my family along the outer edge of the soybean field in Wayne Township. I was wearing my grey ghost shirt, and carrying my backpack. Michelle was behind me, and Paul followed up, carrying a bottle of bubbles and a wand and leaving bubbles behind us.
"Should be right up here," I said. "See that place where the trees kind of stick out of the forest? That's it. The Stech-Simcox Cemetery. Long abandoned, created in 1815."
"That's further than you said," Michelle pointed out.
"I didn't remember exactly. It's been about ten years since I've been out here. Mentioned it in the book, though." I walked ahead. Paul had his shirt off and was soaking in the sun.
I saw the fence as I approached. An old metal fence, rusted and damaged. I could see some of the gravestones. The biggest one, which had once been an obelisk, had been knocked over.
"That wasn't like that last time I was here," I commented.
I walked around the outside, and found the way in on the far side. I had no idea how they'd gotten into it in the old days, but now I could get in through a section of fence that had fallen over. I walked among the stones, which were all overgrown and falling down.
"What do you think, little man? Check this place out."
"Boring," said Paul.
"Oh, I don't know, kid." I walked through the small, sad cemetery. "I think it's pretty cool."
"Can we go to McDonald's on the way home?"
"Sure." I took a couple of photos. "We'll get you some food."

I opened my e-mail, and my co-workers popped up. Zoom meetings. Christ, I hate doing everything digitally. On the bright side, I did get to drink a beer in a staff meeting for the first time ever, as long as I kept it in an opaque travel mug.
"We have our guidelines from the State Library," said New Boss on the screen. "We won't be opening to the public for a while, but staff will be coming in on Monday."
Monday. Next week.
She continued,"We'll have to have some desk reassignments, and wear masks. We won't be open to the public for a while yet, and we'll have to prepare for that. Once we do, we'll only be doing book pick-ups in the lobby. Some people aren't going to like that, and we'll have to deal with them. It's going to be difficult with the public for a while. People are still scared. Statistics show that alcohol use is up."
"Interesting," I said, taking a drink of my Corona.
"We'll work out hours and shifts. We're going to have a lot to do. We'll be taking temperatures at the door. I have a non-contact thermometer  ordered."
"I already have two of those," I commented. "Ghost-hunting equipment."
Paul came in and climbed up on my lap. He was carrying his chocolate milk.
"Does anyone need a mask?" asked New Boss.
"I could use one," said Holly.
"My wife made me two," I said. "One's got Batman on it. Because nothing symbolizes the pandemic like the guy who wears a mask over everything but his mouth."
"E-mail me with any requests," she said.
Monday.

"Alien patrol!" Paul took off down the sidewalk ahead of me. He was carrying his Green Lantern flashlight. I'd wanted the Green Lantern flashlight, but he'd commandeered it, leaving me with the plain black one.
It was nine PM. Over the summer, Paul and I had gotten into the habit of going out on "Alien Patrol"---A walk along our street to check the skies for UFOs. With school out due to Coronavirus, we'd started taking up the practice again; there was no reason not to.
"What's that sound?" Paul asked.
"Oh, that's the paper factory. They make paper products there."
"Ida says she knows that factory." Paul had lately taken an interest in Ida, the ghost haunting our house. He'd had quite a few conversations with her, and they seemed to have become buddies. Ida was taking the rap for a lot of things lately---Paul had accused her of things like getting into the candy without asking.
"Yeah, this factory was around when Ida lived here. She'd remember it. You want to walk down there?"
"Okay."
I looked up at the sky as we walked. There weren't any UFOs. There weren't even any airplanes, not so much as a Tri-Pacer. Or cars on the street. Aside from the sounds of the factory, I couldn't hear anything. I'd never seen Lock Haven so quiet.
On the up side, if there were any UFOs, they'd be easy to pick out. But it looked like the aliens might be social distancing, which was probably wise.
"The Jersey Devil was seen at this paper factory back in 1909, little man," I commented. "A night watchman saw him."
"Maybe we'll see the Jersey Devil!"
"Maybe."
"Is that him?"
"I think that's just a stray cat."
We walked peacefully down Shamrock Street, and then turned back up onto South Fairview. Paul and I headed back up to the house.
He handed me his flashlight and darted for the TV. I put the flashlights on the counter where they belonged, and heard a noise---A sound like something being knocked over, but nothing was moving.
I did what I always do when this happens.
"Ida? That you?"
You get used to it.

I don't know what possessed me to check my cell phone. I almost never do. Like most other electronics, I hate cell phones---I'd refused to upgrade from the basic phone I'd been using for the past decade. But the next afternoon, while Paul took a nap, I remembered that I might need to renew my service soon.
So I dug it out of my pack and turned it on, and found a two-day-old message. Resurrection Casey. I stepped out on the porch and gave her a call back.
"Hey!" Casey said on the other end. "How's it going? You know you sent me bus fare during a stay-at-home order, right?"
"Use it for anything. Buy lunch. I don't care. How you been?"
"Pretty good. All my classes are online at the moment. I hate it."
"I don't blame you."
"Been keeping busy a little. Looking into a UFO sighting near Walnutport. Hoping for a dogman, but, you know, they're rare."
"Yeah, I get you. I haven't even seen any UFOs. Been doing some stay-at-home ghost hunting. We've had a lot of Ida activity recently."
"No kidding?" Casey knew the story of my house; she sounded interested.
"Yeah, been hearing some noises and stuff. I don't know if it's the pandemic....I been trying to develop a candlelight vigil plan with some of city council....Been doing some video tours for the library, and I did one of my place and talked about Ida's story. Maybe it's that."
"I guess that could do it," Casey mused.
"Hey. I better get going. Kid's gonna wake up any minute."
"Good talking to you," said Casey. "You stay safe."
"You, too."

I'd taken to making weekly grocery store trips, not necessarily easy when you're on a bike. Also not easy to stay six feet away from people when everyone recognizes you as the ghost hunter from the newspapers, and wants to come up to you and chat. The mask helped some.
I carried the bags into the house and dropped them on the table. Paul came into the room as I was unpacking.
"Did you get more gumballs for my gumball machine?" he asked.
"Bad news, little man," I said. "I couldn't find any gumballs. For a while, your machine is gonna have to run on...." I held up the package. "M&Ms!"
His eyes lit up. "I love M&Ms!"
"I know. Let's fill it up."
We took the M&M package into the middle room, and I poured them into the coin-operated gumball machine that he'd gotten for Christmas. I heard a noise near the top of the stairs, a board creaking. I saw Paul turn and look.
"Yeah," I said. "I heard it, too."
"It could be Ida!" Paul said.
I checked the floor; all three dogs were downstairs with us, presumably waiting for an M&M to drop. Paul said,"Let's go check!"
We walked upstairs. There was nothing there that we could see; it's often that way with ghosts. Paul said,"I think she's in my room. Let's check!"
"Just a second." I walked into my office. On the back of the door hung my LHPS vest, and I got my laser thermometer and my EMF detector out of the pockets. I turned to Paul. "Which one do you want?"
He snatched up the thermometer.
We entered his room, looking around. I'd taught Paul a couple of years ago how to use the thermometer, and now that he was in kindergarten, he could even read the numbers. "Sixty-four," he told me, moving the laser around the room.
"That's about right." I ran the EMF wand around the walls, checking for fluctuations. On the north side of his window, it went off, flashing the red light and beeping erratically.
"Did you do that?" Paul asked me.
"No. And there's no reason it should be going off. There shouldn't be any wires in this wall." I ran it around the rest of the window, up and down the wall, and it stopped dead. "Hunh."
"I think we found her!"
"Well, I did just release a video tour of this house, and I talked about her a lot. Maybe she likes that."
"I think she wants M&Ms," said Paul.
"Do not go leaving M&Ms around your room for the ghost."
"Dad." Paul, age five, rolled his eyes at me. "Everybody loves M&Ms."

"Back in just a second." I hit the car door as my wife parked the Prius by the side of the cemetery lane. In back, Paul was climbing out the door.
Together, we walked up the hill. The stones of Highland Cemetery towered above us. As it got steeper, I took his hand.
"Right there, little man," I said. "Under that tree."
We walked to the tree, the family plot of the Yosts. I stood with Paul over the small stone that I'd paid to put there.
"Can you read it, buddy?" I asked.
Paul sounded out the letters.
"I...da. Ida."
"That's right, buddy." We looked down at the grave. "This is where Ida's buried. This is her stone."

At nine PM, I got a candle out of the junk drawer. You know the junk drawer; every household has one in my experience. I'd personally picked up the habit from my grandmother, who'd taken the Great Depression a little too much as inspiration, and never thrown away anything that might become useful. I'd been slowly passing the concept on to Paul as we made fishhooks out of can tabs, fish traps out of bottles, and camp stoves out of cans.

I walked out onto the sidewalk. The sun was going down to the west. I stood on the sidewalk for a moment, and then lit my candle and held it high.

Down the block, I saw another candle light up. And further down, a few others.

I watched as the lights went up on my street. All across Lock Haven, others were doing the same thing. I held my candle, connected with my city.

There was hope.

There's always hope.

#50: Scare You In September

The ruins loomed up over us, a big metal canopy between me and the sky. I stopped my bike and got out.
"There, little man," I said to my son. "That's what we're exploring. It was an old place where they repaired trains, a hundred years ago."
Paul Matthew, five years old, climbed out of the trailer behind the bike. He eyed the ruins of the old railroad repair building. "Wow," he said. "Good!"
"Since it's my last full day off before you start kindergarten, I thought we'd explore, and find you an artifact. Now, we're going to have to sneak in," I said.
Paul looked me over. "Why?"
"Because we're kind of trespassing."
Paul made a great show of tiptoeing as we walked around the fence and into the ruins. The repair building now consisted of rusted, overgrown girders, tucked away off Fourth Street in an area nobody ever went. A few years back, I'd identified it from the Sanborn maps.
I took Paul's hand, keeping him away from both the broken glass and the railroad tracks as we walked around. We stopped at a fallen telephone pole on the northeast end.
"You want one of those telephone pegs, like I have in my office?" I asked.
"Yes! I have wanted one for years!"
"Where's your tool?"
Paul dug into his glittery backpack and handed me a small prybar I'd bought for two bucks at the local hardware store. I used it to pry the rusty nail out of the crossbeam.
"Can I do this?" Paul asked.
"Here. Put it like this, little guy, and push this way."
Paul put the prybar against the wooden peg and pushed, and it slid out neatly into his hand. He said,"I got it!"
"All yours, little guy. That thing is about a hundred years old."
"I'm going to take it for show and tell in school!"
"Come on, buddy. Let's get out of here."
We began walking back to the bike. "Is it lunchtime yet?" Paul asked. "Can we go to McDonald's?"
"Yeah. We can go to McDonald's."

I'm excited about Season Four. By which I mean autumn.

I've always loved autumn; it's my favorite time of the year. Raised largely around the educational system by my teacher mother, it's always felt like the beginning of something to me. A new year, full of promise and adventure.

Also, it has Halloween, so there's that. Ghosts, costumes, and candy.
It's the little things.

My name is Lou. I live in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania, and work at the Ross Library. I'm a historian, writer, paranormal investigator, urban explorer, and tour guide. I never know what to put on my business cards.
I was working the desk at the library when someone said,'Do you still have spaces available for the ghost hunt at Highland Cemetery?"
"Oh, sure," I said. "I can put you on the list."
"Is it okay if I pay half now, and the rest later?" they asked.
"Sure," I said. "I've had so much trouble getting people to pay for this thing, I'll be happy to take a good faith payment."
"Thanks." They handed me twenty dollars. "My partner and I really want to come, but things have been a little tough lately. I'm looking for work. My dad threw me out because I'm trans."
"Oh, man, I'm sorry," I said. "That sucks. Hey, can you spare this? I mean, do you need to keep this right now?"
"No, we'll be okay. I want to come out and support you guys."
"Well, tell you what. Consider yourself paid in full."
"Hey....You sure?"
"Yep. You get the I Support You Discount. You're in."
"Hey, thanks. If you hear of anywhere that's hiring, will you let me know?"
"Sure I will."

I hate meetings. I think most people hate meetings. (I'm not sure about accountants and lawyers.) But when the meeting is about cemeteries, it gets more tolerable.
I'm on the board of Highland Cemetery, the oldest and most historic cemetery in Lock Haven. I sat next ot my friend Chris at the monthly meeting; it's a little like having the two bad boys in the back of the class. The president, Ricki, turned to me.
"Lou, how's the fundraiser coming?"
"So far, so good," I said. "Cindy, I have checks for you to cash. We're filled up as of today. The team is ready; we're planning out the presentation. Cindy, you said you can arrange for a tent and chairs?"
Our treasurer nodded. "The fire company is going to supply them, and get them set up."
"Oh, they'll set them up, too? That's great. Chris here said he'd help me with traffic direction and other stuff."
Chris nodded. "Whatever you need."
"I need plenty," I said. "But we're in good shape, so far, guys. We should be bringing in three hundred dollars or so, assuming the weather holds out. And there's nothing I can do about that."

"Well, our two new members already dropped out," Millie commented. "So we're going to need to recruit."
'How about an ad on the Facebook page?" Kara asked. "We can take applications."
"That sounds like a plan," I agreed.
I sat in Millie's living room, with Millie, Kara, Ashlin, and Lacy. The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers.
Again with the meetings.
I'd been a member of LHPS since it began, almost twelve years ago. Originally, we'd met in a haunted museum, and later in a different museum, with planes. Ultimately, we'd settled into Millie's house, which was comfortable.
"So we know who's doing what topic for the event," said Kara. "Is there anything else we need to plan?"
"I'll bring a lantern," I said. "I have a nice, chargeable one; used it at Kettle Creek recently."
"And we're planning to split into two groups and do an investigation after the lesson?" Millie asked.
"That's the idea," I said. "I have two graves in mind for that. Both are prominent people connected with possible hauntings, far enough from each other that there won't be any interference. Henry Shoemaker and Annie Halenbake Ross."
"Cool," commented Lacy.
"So, who wants which one?" I asked.
I looked around the room. Everyone was shrugging.
"Seriously?" I said. "You guys don't care? I mean, I want Shoemaker."
"Well, go for it," said Kara. "I'm not going to be picky."
"We have ten in each group?" asked Millie.
I nodded. "We're filled up. Now we just wait it out....This is going to be the most ambitious seminar we've ever done."

On August 28, I woke up too early and threw on my Bigfoot shirt. Paul was already up, dressed, and ready for his first day of school, because five-year-olds are psychopaths. He was on the couch eating a Pop-Tart when I got downstairs.
"Daddy! Is it time to go?"
I looked at my watch. Six-fifteen. "We have plenty of time, little man. Let me get a cup of coffee first."
I went to the kitchen and poured some coffee into my Bigfoot mug. All four dogs followed me, because you never know, I just might spill something. I leaned against the counter, drinking coffee to brighten my mood. I wanted to cry. It was the first time in five years that I wouldn't be spending the morning with my son, and I didn't go through a year and a half of the adoption process to take these things calmly.
At seven-thirty, we left the house. Michelle and I took photos of Paul in his new clothes, because that's federal law, and we walked down the street to his elementary school. We stopped in front of the doors.
"See you," Paul said, and started to walk off.
"Hey!" Michelle called. "How about a hug?"
"Oh. Right." He turned around and hugged us both, and then jetted for the doors. I'm glad he wasn't experiencing any negative feelings, but a little reluctance would have been nice.
Michelle and I turned and headed back toward the house.
"I want to cry," Michelle said. "It's so stupid."
"No," I said. "It's not."
At home, I got some more coffee and retreated to my office. I played around with my new equipment harness for UFO investigation, and finally got it to fit right. I worked on an article for the Pennsylvania Wilds, and then opened up an e-mail from Chris.
Michelle stepped into the hallway. "How's it going?"
"Got an article done about a Henry Shoemaker ghost story in McElhattan," I said. "Chris e-mailed. He wants me to write some stuff for the Renovo tourist promotion website."
"Gonna do it?"
"I have to do something while Paul is in school. And this is a good chance to get some promotion out there. I can write about the Giwoggle and the Susquehanna Seal, and maybe some of the ghost stories. If the local tourism agencies won't promote the paranormal stuff, I will."

 Chris picked up on the first ring, which was good. I was standing outside my office, on the small library porch that nobody ever used but me. Well, and that one homeless guy, but he hadn't been around in a while.
"Hey, Chris? It's Lou."
"Hey, what's up?"
"You still available Saturday morning?"
"Sure. What do you need?"
"I need you to go up to Highland and  cover for me. Our treasurer arranged for chairs and tents to be delivered, but she set it up for while I'm at work, in spite of me telling her my hours three or four times. So I need the Emergency Back-Up Lou. Can you go and tell them where to be?"
"Sure. Up between Soldiers' Circle and the Kistler Mausoleum, right?"
"Right. About ten feet or so from the road, if possible."
"Can do. If the tent is rectangular, you want it lengthwise with the road, or crosswise, or doesn't it matter?"
"That last one. I don't care. Just so we can get people under it."
"I'll do it."
"Thanks, Chris. I appreciate that."

"That's far enough, Daddy." Paul held up one hand, signalling me to stop on the sidewalk. We were half a block from his school.
"Okay, little man. Love you." I gave him a hug, and he jetted off down the sidewalk. Day Four.
"Love you! Bye!" He waved at me as he went.
Okay. Paul's in school. I have the whole day to myself. Now, what do I want to do?
Back home. Shower. Get dressed---Jeans, black bandanna on my ankle, and my "It's s Chupacabra Thing" shirt. Coffee in my LHPS mug, and an omelette I made.
I sat at my computer, pugs Duke and Gwen sleeping on the floor, and did an article for the PA Wilds about a haunting in Williamsport. Went out on the back porch and smoked a cigar. I binge-watched Lost.
I looked at my watch.
Nine-fifteen AM.
"Fuck!"

"You mind if we stop at Dunkin' Donuts on the way?" Kara asked me. "Get some coffee?"
I waved a hand at her and Lacy form the back of her car. "We're early. Do what you gotta do."
Twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the field at the top of Highland Cemetery, between the Kistler Mausoleum and Soldiers' Circle. We got out of the car, Kara and Lacy holding frothy, sugary drinks. The tent was up and the chairs were under it.
I strapped my leg rig on, with the equipment. I was wearing the black LHPS uniform, with the hoodie. "Now's the point where I panic, hoping people will show up."
"What happens if I need to go to the bathroom?" Lacy asked.
"I was hoping nobody would ask that."
"So where's the graves we're investigating?" asked Kara.
"Ross is over there." I pointed west. "Shoemaker's there." East. "They're both connected with hauntings. And far enough away that there won't be any cross-contamination."
"Sounds good," said Kara, setting our equipment out on the table.
I went for a walk. I've always been very comfortable in cemeteries, Highland being my favorite. I walked along the top of the ridge, in the center, where there was a grass path. I strolled among the stones, looking at the graves of the people I'd learned about.
Seymour Durell Ball. How you doing? Reverend Joseph Nesbitt, hi. Thomas Brown Stewart. Been a while, man. 
The wind blew through my hair as I walked out to the end of the field and turned back. When I arrived back at the tent, Lacy was doing an EMF test on the Wilson Kistler mausoleum.
I joined her.
"I got some odd temperature readings on this one," she admitted. "And a couple of EMFs."
I nodded. "A few years ago, I was up here with Millie and Charlie. We got some odd EMFs inside the thing, and no explanation. We never did figure it out."
"Water?"
"Not up this high."
"Would pipes do it?"
"Hmm. Maybe. There is a working water pump right over there. I'm gonna have to come up here with a metal detector. You want to see the grave that was rumored to be a witch? It's right over there."
"Hell, yeah, I do."
I led her across the road and to the flat grave among the trees. She began doing some EMF tests.
"I'm glad you joined, Lacy."
"Well, thanks."
"You're a good teammate. You never know; it's a crapshoot when you get someone new. You've been around over a year now...."
"Have I really?"
"A little over a year. We did Sara's house last summer."
"Wow."
"Anyway. You're a good teammate. I haven't told you until now, but I'm glad you're one of us."
Together, we walked back to the tent, where Kara was checking her laptop.
"How's Paul doing in school?" she asked.
"He loves it," I said. "I, on the other hand, have not been handling it well. I been writing an article every day, which kills maybe fifteen minutes. I'm working on some publicity for Renovo tourism, which takes care of another fifteen. I need stuff to do. I cleaned the garage, Kara. I voluntarily cleaned the garage; that's how low I have sunk."
"Anything I can do?"
"Find something to keep me busy for four to six hours a day."
Kara looked out at the road. "People should be arriving any minute."
I nodded. "Now all we have to do is wait for them to come."

The sun was setting, and I had a lantern hanging from the tent pole. Kara was finishing up playing some EVPs for the crowd---We had twenty people sitting in the audience. I smiled at SaraLee, who'd been a client of ours before. Kara looked up at me.
"Ready to break up for investigations?"
I nodded, and turned to the audience.
"We're going to split everyone into groups. We'll be using what you've learned tonight, and investigating two nearby graves: Henry Shoemaker, and Annie Halenbake Ross."
And this is the part I'm good at. This is where I shine, the thing I learned to fill in the hole where my adolescence should have been. I'll never fill it, despite the lengths I'm willing to go. But I'll always be happy in these moments....Because I have the chance to try.
"Annie died in 1907. She was the founder of the local library, where I work. Henry was a writer and folklorist, and he wrote down a lot of local ghost stories. He was also sort of a hero of mine. If anyone has a preference, join up---I'll take the Henry group with Ashlin here, and Kara and Lacy will take Annie."
"I'll start with Annie," SaraLee said.
We wound up with two roughly equal groups, and split off. Kara and Lacy headed out to Annie's grave, and Ashlin and I led the other group over to Henry Shoemaker's, where we settled onto the grass.
I turned on the recorder.
"It's eight thirty-five PM on September seventh. We're in Highland Cemetery, at the grave of Henry Wharton Shoemaker." I gave it a moment---You have to leave space for EVPs---And then said,"Is there anyone here?"
Nothing happened, and nobody spoke up, so I began to ask questions at a slow, even pace, the way you're supposed to for EVPs. "Can you tell me your name?....What did you do for a living?....Where did you live?...."
One of the attendees, Juli, was using one of my laser thermometers. She spoke up. "I have a temperature drop over there.....It goes from sixty-five to fifty-two."
I raised my eyebrows. "Thirteen degrees? That's a lot."
"It's dropping right over there, by the gravestone."
I shifted and rolled, pulling out my camera. As I moved, I aimed it toward the stone, with Henry Shoemaker's name on it.
"That's significant enough that I'm going to get some photos, see if there's anything there." I clicked a couple of pictures. "Down to fifty-two, that's a lot. Do we have a visitor tonight?"
We waited a moment. Ashlin said,"I really hope so."
"Me, too," I said. "I'd love to encounter Shoemaker's ghost. And with all the haunted stories he collected, I have to say....I think he'd like us being here."

"Thanks for coming, everyone, and supporting Highland Cemetery," I said, back under the tent. "We'll let you know what the recordings turn up, and we encourage you to keep your eyes open for further events."
"We'll be around for a little longer, if anyone has any questions," said Kara.
The audience began to disperse, and we started packing up. I said,"Guys....Thanks. That was great. Thank you for doing this."
"Lacy had an idea," said Kara. "After everyone leaves, how about we do an EVP session at the Kistler Mausoleum? Just us."
I grinned.
"I'm in."

"....Recording," said Kara. "September seventh, nine thirty-two PM."
I set my recorder down on the stone steps. Lacy said,"So tell me about Henry Shoemaker and the werewolves. Someone mentioned Shoemaker and the werewolves."
I laughed. "That comes from one of his scholarly papers, and it sums up everything I love about Shoemaker. We have a bound collection of his papers at the library, and I've been through it a million times. And it's all very educational stuff....You know, Reasons For Collecting Folklore....An Address To Penn State, 1932....And then you hit Chapter Twelve, The Werewolf In Pennsylvania. Presented just as seriously as these other ones."
Lacy laughed. I said,"I hope we got something on the tapes."
"It was a good night," said Kara.
I nodded. "It was."
And we talked and laughed, and let the recorders run, as we sat together. In a cemetery, among the ghosts. You know. Friend stuff.

Personal Space (Conclusion): Roswell That Ends Well

"So you're Lou?" the woman asked.
I nodded at her over the desk. "I'm Lou. What can I do for you?"
"You do ghosts?"
"I do ghosts," I said. "Happens in a lot of libraries."
"You were recommended to me. My son owns a haunted house, and I wanted to find out how to go about researching it."
"Oh, sure. I have a handout about this, actually. I can print you a copy."
"I'm especially interested in finding out the history behind it."
"Yeah, I can help with that," I said. "I'd suggest a trip to the courthouse, and then back here to look up obits. Is it local? There may already be some research done on it."
"It's local," she said. "But I'm not telling you where."
"That's fine, but if it's a building deemed historic, there may be a Historic Resource Survey Form---"
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Okay."
"He took a photo, and there were tons of orbs in it," she said.
I hesitated. "Well, orbs generally aren't very reliable," I said. "They tend to be dust or moisture...."
"No, the place is really haunted," she said. "I'm very sensitive. I have, you know, abilities, and I can tell."
I was absolutely not going to get into a discussion about bullshit psychic abilities. I said,"I'll get you the handout."
I went back to my desk and sat down. As I was bringing up the printout, someone said,"You find my phone yet?"
I looked up. It was the thin guy in white, the insane guy I hadn't seen in a while. I'd hoped he was gone for good.
"Nobody's turned anything in to the Lost and Found," I said. "I'm sure your phone's not here."
"I don't want some terrorist getting it," he said. "You know how you can tell who's a terrorist? They got beady little eyes."
"Uh...."
"You should throw out everyone with beady little eyes."
"I'm pretty sure that's both illegal and logistically difficult."
"I've got the feds working on it," he said. "They're gonna find my phone."
And he retreated to a distant corner of the library to sit down. There should be a limit to how many nuts I have to deal with in one day.

"Lou? Somebody here for you." Mel came into the back room while I was pouring my coffee into my Bigfoot travel mug.
"It's not the whacko in the white robes, right?"
"No, this guy looks normal."
I walked out to the desk. My friend Bill the Photographer was waiting. I said,"Oh, hi, Bill. You're here about your new place."
"I am," he agreed. "My wife and I want to know who built it, and when."
"Let's start by taking a look at the Sanborn Maps," I said.
I led him into the PA Room and pulled out the big maps, setting them on the table. "There, see---That's your place. So we can date it at least back to 1901."
"Cool."
"Hey, Bill....You do drones, right?"
"Yeah, I fly one around."
"You ever see one with a purple light? I saw something, a purple light in the sky, a while back near the Jay Street Bridge."
He thought it over. "Could be. I've never seen a purple one, but you can customize them. Mine has two red lights and two green lights. Where'd you say you saw it?"
"Near the Jay Street Bridge. North end."
"Hmm. Could be. Most of them have a GPS inside, that won't let them enter an airport zone. You can customize it, though, remove the GPS even though it's against the law. But that's far enough away from the airport that it's possible. I guess this doesn't tell you anything much."
"More than I knew," I said. "Thanks for that. Every little bit helps."

I was sitting at my desk and working on a program when she walked in. A woman---Thin, young, dark hair.
"Hi," she said. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure," I said. "Pull up a chair."
She sat down. She said,"My name is Marissa. I took one of your tours a few years ago. A haunted tour in October? It was great. It basically changed my life. "
"Oh, sure, I remember that one. A talk about a ghost in church changed your life?"
"Well, it made me really think, I learned so much about the area. I have something I needed to ask you about....You seemed to be the right person."
"What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to ask you about something," she said. "A couple of nights ago, I was out walking on the dike. I saw something....I can't figure it out. You study aliens, right?"
"Well, I follow up on UFO sightings, yes."
"I saw a purple light in the sky," she said. "It wasn't a plane."
I stared at her.
"You saw it, too," I said.
"You, too?"
I nodded. "Back in June. Tell me what you saw."
"A purple light in the sky, about nine thirty. Kind of squiggling through the sky, over the river."
"I think you and I saw the same thing," I said. "And I can't explain it, either."
"What can we do?"
"I'm going to keep looking into this, Marissa," I said. "And I promise you, I'll figure out what it was we saw."

I got to work.
It was a warm day out. I turned up the air conditioning in the library. Everything I needed was a few feet from my desk. I began rolling my chair around, doing the research. I had my new shirt with the little alien head on it. Somewhere outside, someone was playing music.

I'm all grown up

But somehow, it feels like I'm pretending

Visions of my younger years, they are buried

But the scenes that play inside of me, are impending

They are never ending...

I checked UFOs In Pennsylvania, a book stashed right behind my desk. No help there; it had some good sightings in it, but mostly Kecksburg. Better than UFOs Above PA, though. I looked at the newspaper indexes. UFO sightings in Lock Haven from 1952 and 1967. Neither one exactly resembled what I'd seen, though the 1967 one was closest.

Where, where, where, where, where are you?

You don't have to look out that window, anymore.

You can just come back to yourself, you can come back to this world.

Where are you? Tell me who heard you. And where are you?

Calls to the local airports, military bases, and any hospital with a helipad yielded nothing. You'll have this. So, ruled out historic incidents, ruled out legal flights....Atmospherics.
I got online to check for atmospheric conditions, and got a little excited for a moment when I discovered a purple light called STEVEs, but the video I found didn't look like what I'd seen. Cool, though.

Such a quiet secret, it hurt too much trying hard to keep it.

Oh, and I looked up to you... I wanted so much to believe in you.

I wanted so much for you to believe it me.

Oh I tried, I tried.

I flipped through one of the library files on the paranormal---We have them. They're usually tucked away in a drawer upstairs, but we have them. Nothing on UFO sightings, but I found one of my own articles.
It was about LHPS, about the time we'd made an appearance in a local coffee shop. Way back when we were just starting out. Me, Theresa, Millie, Kara....All standing together in the front of the room, teaching coffee drinkers about investigating with the rain and the traffic outside.
I looked at that one for a long time.

Where, where, where, where, where are you?

You don't have to look out that window, anymore.

You can just come back to yourself, you can come back to this world.

Where are you? Tell me who heard you. And where are you?

I sat in the living room with Millie, Lacy, Kara, Ashlin, and the two new prospects, Spencer and Julie. The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers.
"I'll give the new client a call," Kara said, making a note. "What's the date on the Flemington tour?"
"August seventeenth," I said. "It's not exactly an all-hands-on-deck situation; Millie and I can handle it. It's a fundraiser for Millbrook."
"How about the Highland Cemetery one?" Lacy asked.
"September seventh," I said. "I'm working out the logistics on that; it's coming together pretty nicely. I'll make a run up to Highland sometime soon, and scout out the area."
"I think we're going to need another meeting to plan this one," said Kara.
I said,"By the way....The Spiritual Seekers are breaking up."
"Really?" asked Millie.
I nodded. "Saw it on their page. First they seem to have had a falling out, and they've announced the team is no longer together. Couple of them seem to have gotten with a team from out in Northumberland, near Highway Fifteen."
"Aww," said Ashlin.
"Northumberland can have them," I said. "I always knew we'd outlast those bastards."
"I don't know," Ashlin said,"I was getting a few laughs out of them. I expected them to stick around a little longer, at least."
I leaned forward and asked Julie and Spencer,"Do you guys have any questions?"
They glanced at each other, the way couples do before answering anything, and then shrugged. "No," Julie said,"You guys have explained things pretty well."
"Anything else, before we break up?" Millie asked.
"Yeah," I said. I stood up. "Something I gotta say."
I took a step, turned around. "You guys....I been going through some stuff this summer. And I just....Look. You guys....You're my best friends in the world." I turned and faced them all. "And....I know....That I am not the easiest person in the world to care about. So.....Thank you. That's all."
I sat down.
"Yes, you are," said Millie.
"Hey, I've known you for like an hour," said Spencer,"And you seem pretty cool to me."
I smiled at him.
"You sure that's it?" said Kara.
I nodded. "Yeah."

You have to wonder about your lifestyle choices when you spend half your time running around in old cemeteries. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, necessarily, just that it's not something you tend to do after, say, accounting school.
I walked across Section J, top of the hill, middle of the cemetery. Looking down over the hill, I could see William Piper's mausoleum, with the Piper Cub carved in the stone. I gave a rueful smile. The sun was going down, and I was getting a sense of what it would look like for the fundraiser.
I turned and looked to the north, and I saw it.
The purple light---The same one I'd seen back in June. It was north of me, toward the Susquehanna River. And it was moving slowly east.
I bolted after it.
I ran diagonally across Section J, leaping over gravestones as I moved. It was going slowly, but in the sky, so it was outdistancing me. I darted around the stone of Thomas Stewart, then tripped over the Schnell monument and rolled on the grass, hurting my wrist. I got up and kept running, crossing the road.
The light was heading east, out away from the cemetery. I dug in my pack as I ran, sliding my camera out. I dropped the rest of the pack. I ran past Soldiers' Circle, past Dewitt Clinton, past Henry Shoemaker. I stopped behind Peter Meitzler's statue and aimed the camera.
The purple light was out over the river, on the east end of the city. With my aching wrist, I held the camera and hit the button.
The light lowered and disappeared. I stood, breathing hard.
But this time, I'd gotten a picture.

"So," Kara said,"You gonna tell me now?"
"Tell you what?" We were in her car, driving in the dark. I was wearing my LHPS uniform; we'd just  come from the latest meeting.
"Tell me what's been bothering you. You haven't been yourself lately. The whole team has noticed."
"I was hoping you guys wouldn't see that."
"Good luck on that. You gonna talk?"
I sighed. "I have spent most of this summer feeling very alone, Kara."
"Why is that?"
"....I saw something, Kara."
"Uh-huh?"
"A purple light. It was in the sky near the Jay Street Bridge. I can't explain it, and I've been investigating it alone all summer. I haven't had anyone to talk to about this."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"I didn't think you'd be interested."
"What gave you that idea?"
"When I brought up investigating UFOs, you guys immediately voted it down."
"Lou. We'd have helped you. All you had to do was ask. All we said was that we didn't want to publicize that we're now investigating other things. We never said we wouldn't help you. If you need us, we're there."
"It didn't feel like that."
"We'd have helped. You're so independent sometimes that you forget that. When one of us needs help, the others come running. You know that."
I sat in silence.
"What are you going to do now?" Kara asked.
I looked our the window.
"I'm gonna find out what it was."

I walked across the playground, picking up litter. After over a decade, the local playground called the Tiger Den had been opened to the public, due to the campaigning of a city councilman. Because I lived nearby, I'd volunteered to help lock up the place at night.
I clicked the lock shut and put my Bigfoot multitool keychain in my pocket. My bike was in the alley. I climbed on, and looked ahead down Kite Alley.
There it was again, this time coming out of the mountains by....I did a quick mental check....Castanea. The purple light. It was blinking now, flickering. It began to curve, slowly, looping around and heading roughly northeast.
I rode after it. I'd almost expected it this time.
I kept it in sight as I biked down Bald Eagle Street to Liberty, and then north to Water. The light was still going. I saw it go down and out of sight near Jay Street, but as I hit the bridge, I had a good guess where it was going.
I biked into Riverview Park.
There was a woman sitting under the pavilion, on one of the picnic benches. She had a large black bag at her feet. I got off my bike and walked over to her.
"Did you see it, too?" she asked.
I looked her over.
"See what?" I said.
"The light. The purple light. What do you think that was? You're that paranormal guy from the papers, right? Want to check it out together?"
I glanced at her, the bag.
"Thanks for your e-mail," I commented.
"What?"
"You wrote the initial e-mail reporting this thing, right? You planned all this to get my attention. Well, you've got it."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm betting if I look inside that there bag, I'll see an illegally modified drone with purple lights. You've read my columns, right? Probably saw the PA Wilds column about the UFOs, which gave you the idea. You got my attention by sending me an e-mail describing your sighting, then chose the right time and place to get me to spot it, too---You wouldn't have much trouble figuring out when I'm downtown on a tour; I advertise hell out of that. You made sure I'd see the purple light, and then let me run around half the summer investigating it."
"And you found it," she said. "Now that  I've met you, I'd love to work with you. I want to help research the paranormal, too."
"Not interested."
She looked shocked.
"What? Why not?"
"I don't encourage hoaxes," I said. "Not ever. A hoax casts a bad light on all paranormal investigation. I already have partners....And they'd never fake a sighting."
I turned and walked to my bike. She called,"Wait!"
I got on my bike, and rode away.

"So the whole thing was a hoax," said Biz.
I nodded. "Just a hoax. One desperate woman trying to get my attention."
"Boy. You sure know how to pick 'em."
"I picked nothing. I'd have been happy to skip out."
 Our weekly family dinner was over. I was doing the dishes, Biz leaning on the counter next to me. Michelle has bailed and was watching TV in the other room. Tif and Paul were at the table, playing a game entirely of Paul's devising. It seemed to involve a chess board, dice, and at least one Monopoly piece.
"So how you feeling about that?" asked Biz.
"You know, I hate hoaxers," I said. "I should be pissed off. But somehow, I'm not. I'm okay about it. I solved the mystery. This summer, I did a lot of UFO stuff. I went to Virginia, Maryland, and Kettle Creek. I turned fifty. I'm okay."
I glanced out the window, looking up at the darkening sky.
"You seem like you're doing pretty good."
"I am. And you know what? I think I want to write a book. I don't even know if I'll publish it, but I want to write it. I mean, I'm fifty now, and I may be able to put together something more than just short newspaper articles. During this whole thing, I read at least two books about UFOs, and one was definitely crap. I can do better. I'm gonna write about all the stuff in this area."
"Well. That's cool."
"I'm also working on another piece for the Pennsylvania Wilds," I told her. "The UFO article kicked off a flood of reports, but I'm a bit worn out on UFOs after all that. I'm gonna see if I can stir up something else."
"Yeah? Like what?"
I grinned. "I'm thinking the Jersey Devil."
Biz laughed.
"I'm doing okay," I said. "I'm....You know, I'm at peace."
Paul looked up from the table.
"It's getting dark out now, Daddy," he said. "The alien signal is on!"
"Let's go on alien patrol, then, little man," I said. "Grab the flashlights." I pulled on my black cap with the alien patch on it, and he got his pink one. "Get my equipment!" We headed for the front door. "Let's do this thing! If we don't get out there, the aliens win!"

Personal Space (Part Two): The Sky's The Limit

"Hi," I said. "I'm here to donate a shark."
The woman at the desk in the college biology department looked up at me. "Oh, yes," she said. "The professor mentioned you'd be coming."
I handed her a small jar, with a preserved shark inside it. "One of our library patrons gave it to me. Honestly, I had no idea what to do with it, and having it on my desk creeped me out a little. I thought you guys could use it."
She laughed. "We can definitely use it. Thank you."
"Since I'm here, I might as well stop and check something else. Which way is geology?"

The Geology Professor was working at a microscope when I walked in. She looked up and said,"Oh, hi, Lou. What can I do for you?"
"Since I was in the building anyway, I thought I'd stop by and confirm our program for Thursday. You'll be in talking about meteors at six."
"Meteorites, actually."
"Meteorites. Of course."
She nodded. "I'll be there. I'll have some samples of meteorites, as well. Would you like to hold one?"
"You know, I kinda would."
She handed me a heavy chunk about the size of my fist. It felt like metal. She said,"This is a stony-iron meteorite. Do you know how old this is?"
"Older than I am, I assume."
"Ten million years old. And it came from another world. You're holding something that...."
"I'm holding something that isn't from this planet," I said. "It's actually amazing. Have any meteorites ever hit Clinton County?"
"You know, I'm not sure," she said. "Maybe you should check into that. There might be a historic record, which is definitely your sort of thing."

The thing about the nuts is that once they get to know you, they will hunt you down. As soon as I got off the desk, I turned around, and BAM! There's the guy in the white robe, standing right there behind me.
"I can't get my car out of the garage," he said, apropos of nothing.
"Uh-huh." It's real hard to know what to say sometimes.
"The guy said it would be five hundred dollars, but now he's saying it's fifteen hundred."
"Umm."
"He's trying to steal my car. People are trying to steal my car and my money. Also someone stole my phone"
"Mhm."
"You haven't heard any rumors about me, have you?"
I looked up. "Uh....What kind of rumors?"
"Somebody was telling everyone I have a bunch of guns in my car. A whole LOT of guns."
"So, I better get back to work," I said. and retreated to my desk to look busy. "Hey!" I saw my friend Chris passing my desk, heading to the Reference Room. "Wanna look into an old legend? It's Henry Shoemaker."
His wife, Kate, was with him. She glanced at me. "Is this how you greet everyone?"
"Mostly just Chris here. How you been?"
"Good, good. We've been invited to join the board of Highland Cemetery."
"We can sure as hell use the help," I admitted. "I'm gonna pitch a fundraiser ghost hunt up there, in the cemetery. I'm hoping the board will let me get away with that."
"I'd vote for it."
"Chris---I got a theory."
"About these Henry Shoemaker legends? Let's hear it."
"Got a program coming up about meteors. Meteorites," I said. "I asked if there had ever been a meteorite strikein this area, and my geologist didn't know. So I looked into it. It turns out there has been. Out in Muncy, for one thing, near where Michelle works."
"Isn't that where evil first entered the world, according to Shoemaker?"
"Yep. There was a legend about the gods sending a creature burrowing underground to test the tribe, creating the mountains and erupting up through the ground. Now, it makes sense that a legend like that might come from a meteor strike. Workers found a meteor right there, in that spot, in 1891. It's on display at Bucknell now."
"You think the legend may have come from a meteor?"
"Well, meteorite. There was another legend, the Grandfather Pine....You know that one?"
"I don't think so."
I picked the book up off the shelf. All the Henry Shoemaker books are right across from my desk, which is convenient as hell. "In the olden days, the Earth loved the Evening Star. Which was probably Venus actually, but anyway. The Earth was so upset at not being able to be with the star that it cracked open, and a creek ran out---This was the Earth's pain. Don't give me that look, Kate, I don't write 'em."
Kate grinned and shrugged.
"So the Earth grew a tree, near Loganton, a huge tree, to reach to space and reach the star. It was called the Grandfather Pine. When the white men settled in the area, some warriors climbed up the Grandfather Pine to go to space, but then the loggers cut down the tree, and they never came back."
"Stranded."
"With my theory that one Shoemaker legend was caused by a meteor....ite, why not this one, too? The bit about the world breaking open and releasing a spring sounds like it could have begun with a strike. Want to look into it?"
"Yeah, I'm in. How we gonna do that?"
"We're gonna drive down to Loganton and look for it."

Sometimes it seems like I've spend half my life away from home. Work, camping, and travel add up, and I've gotten the feeling that I've spent way too much time in tents and hotels. Of course, there are other reasons to stop in a hotel. Like my daughter works the front desk.
"Hi, hon," I said. I tossed her a hat, with an alien patch on it. It looked like mine, except hers was yellow and mind was black. "Got you one, too."
"Hey! Thanks!" Biz looked it over. "I love it!"
"Well, Michelle wore mine and liked it, so I got her one. Then Paul wanted one, so I got him a pink one. And at that point, we're already that family, so I figured I'd get you and Tif alien hats, too."
"Dibs on choreographing the family pajama Christmas dance."
"Been wearing my alien hat a lot at work lately. Because of the summer reading theme, I've been spending a lot of time working on UFOs."
"Learning anything?"
If there was one person I could confide in, it was my daughter, who was also after all one of my best friends.
"....I saw something, Biz."
"Really?"
"Down near the Jay Street Bridge. A purple light."
"Seriously? Purple?"
"Been having a hard time wrapping my head around it. It wasn't a....It didn't look like a plane light, or something. More like....I don't know, more like a streak. Purple."
"What're you gonna do?"
"Been investigating. LHPS won't help me. I gotta get down there and check for radiation, electricity, the usual. I'll have to see what I can figure out."
"Alien invasion. Cool."
"Yeah, so far I'm the only person dealing with the alien invasion."
'Well, that's about right, I guess."
"I'm gonna need more coffee."

I was checking our inventory for books about UFOs. I remembered having one right behind my desk---A book about UFOs sighted in Pennsylvania. Of course it mostly featured Kecksburg, sort of the state's UFO capital, but there were other sightings, too. And of course, it was missing---Someone had stolen it. Government cover-ups. Am I right?
I saw him, the lunatic with the white robe, just for a second. He walked past the desk, and then turned and walked into the staff-only area at the back of the building, right past the sign that said PRIVATE. I dropped the ILL form and ran after him.
"Sir?" In public service, you have to be polite, even to the lunatics. "I'm sorry, this is a staff-only area."
"The guy said I could come back here."
"No, sir. I'm sorry, this is employees only."
We walked out, into the hallway, and back to the desk. he argued,"I'm allowed back there!"
"No, sir, I'm sorry. That's for employees."
"You don't say anything about that!"
"There's a sign on the door that says 'private'."
"But that's only when the door is closed----"
"No, sir, it's all the time. That's a staff-only area."
"How are people supposed to know what's back there if they can't go back?"
"If there's anything that will benefit the patron, staff will know."
"I think you're being a worry-wart."
"It's not my rule, sir." This was exhausting. "That is a private area for the employees."
"But I'm supposed to be back there."
"Sir. You are not. Allowed. Back there. I'm sorry if that offends you, but that's the rule."
He walked off, muttering to himself. Great. Now I had this lunatic on my bad side. I finished the ILL report and took it back to Mel.
"Can you get me this one?" I asked.
She glanced at the form. "Yeah, I can probably borrow it from Williamsport. Let me print out the label....What's our code?"
"Same number as our address, to make it easy to remember."
"Why would I know our address?"
"Why the hell wouldn't you know our address? You don't know the address where you work?"
"I just come here. I don't need to know the address."
"Seriously? I mean, your whole job is getting things delivered."
"I just print the label."
"What if someone has a medical emergency, and you're the one who calls the ambulance?"
"I just say the Ross Library."
"What if you really need to order a pizza?"
"I say Ross Library."
"And the delivery guy is some idiot college kid who doesn't know where that is."
"I'll tell them I'm taking my business to locals who know the area."
"Okay, I respect that. But what if you want to have something delivered from Amazon---"
"This really bugs you, doesn't it?"
"Jesus. Just get me the book."

I walked down the street with my son and my flashlight. Paul and I had taken to going out in the evening and looking for UFOs. Every night around 9:30, we'd go out and keep the neighborhood safe from aliens.
"Remember, Paul, check the skies. Look at cloud cover. Note the location of the moon and the stars. Can you tell me which way is north?"
Paul pointed. "That way?"
"Right. Good job."
"Look! Daddy! Look!" Paul pointed up at the sky, where there were a couple of flashing lights.
"I see," I said. "Do you think those might be airplanes?"
"No! They're alien ships!"
"Okay."
We walked on down the block. It was getting a little darker, and Paul shined his flashlight around the street. There was a woman sitting on her porch as we walked past, talking with a black guy.
"Hi," she said. "What are you two up to?"
"Looking for aliens," I said. "Seen any?"
"And are you hoping to see any, or....?"
"Depends on the color."
She shook her head. "Don't be silly. If aliens exist, they haven't visited us."
"You're welcome," I said.
"You guys seem to be leaving South Jones Street, where I live, wide open," commented the black guy.
"I got a daughter who lives down there," I said. "She'll call me if she sees anything."
"Right on."
We walked on up the street, back toward our house. I stopped near a neighbor's lawn, where between the houses I had a clear view to the northeast, roughly toward the Susquehanna.
"There's a light, Paul. What do you think?"
Paul squinted. "I see it, Daddy!"
It was white, and moving roughly southeast, and I was about to dismiss it as a plane. Then it took a sharp turn---Much sharper than any plane that should be out at that hour---And came due west, toward us. I watched the color change from white to orange as the light grew a bit bigger.
"Daddy?"
"Just a second, pal."
It came toward us for about another minute, then turned red, swung straight up, and disappeared into the clouds.
"What was that, Daddy?"
"Little man, I think we just saw our first genuine UFO."

I was drawing the Loch Ness Monster when Tif showed up. Paul and I were waiting for her outside in the morning sun, sketching with chalk on the sidewalk. I was using green and blue to draw an aquatic, plesiosaur-like monster, and labeling it CHALK NESS MONSTER.
"Good morning," said Tif. "You ready for story time?"
"Yeah!" said Paul. "Daddy and me saw a alien last night!"
Tif glanced at me. "Did you, now?"
"Bright light in the sky, someplace near the river----The location was a little hard to tell," I said. "Started off heading east, turned toward us, then shot up into the clouds and disappeared. Behaved oddly for anything I can think of."
"You consider some sort of military plane?" Tif asked.
"That's pretty plausible. Some kind of drone, something. There's a twelve-year gap between what the military has and what the public knows. In fact, I'm pretty sure we were looking in the direction of the National Guard base in Dunnstown; I'll have to check that."
"It seems likely."
"Don't tell Paul. No reason to spoil his good time."
"Let's go to story time!" Paul said, climbing up on the back of Tif's wheelchair.
"See you later, Dad," said Tif.
"Catch you guys in a while," I said. "Have fun."

With my coffee mug that said Bigfoot saw me but nobody believes him, I walked up the stairs in my haunted house to my office room. I sat down at the computer and brought up a map of Lock Haven.
Zooming in on South Fairview Street, I located my neighbor's house and figured out which way Paul and I had been looking the night before. We'd been facing closer to due east than I'd realized. I zoomed back out, and mentally drew a line from where we'd been standing out to the approximate location of the UFO.
It crossed right over the military base.
Tif was right. Some sort of military item that wasn't yet public knowledge. I lifted my coffee mug at the screen.
"One mystery solved," I said.