The Kids Are All Fright

I stood in front of the kids, six teens sitting around the table. Once a month, I teach paranormal investigation to kids. It's nothing I ever envisioned as a career.
"I'd like to welcome you guys to the first meeting of the school year," I said. "Tonight, we're going to learn how to do the research on a haunted house."
For my job at the library, I run a group called Teen Paranormal. I teach teenagers how to investigate. I had three old ones and three new ones: Alex, Aubree, Olivia. Austin, Kayla, and Krystianna.
"When LHPS gets a call, it's the first thing I do," I said. "Go to the courthouse and pull the deeds. That way, I learn who lived there, who died there, who is most likely to be haunting the place. Start with the assessment record---It's this thing here." I held up the copy I'd made.
The kids all looked through their packets and found their copies. I saw Austin have a little trouble, and Krystianna help him. I said,"On this form, you'll have the age of the building---But don't depend on that; I've seen them be off by as much as twenty-five years---And the current owners. You'll also find the most recent deed book and page, and that's what you're looking for. Take that down to the Register and Recorder's office."
Olivia asked,"Are we going to go downstairs and look at the research file?"
"We are; that's tonight."
She grinned. "Good. I like that."
Aubree looked across the table at the new girls. "We're nerds," she said.
Krystianna grinned. "Oh good. Us too."
"Nothing wrong with that," I said.
"You notice how we all have something going on?" Aubree asked. "ADD, ADHD...."
"Autism...."
"Tourette's...."
"Anxiety...."
I held up one hand. "Clinical depression over here."
Olivia glanced at me. "How come the nerds and rejects seem to do better after high school than the others?"
"I can answer that, actually," I said. "Based on my own experience." I'd been standing to give the lesson; I sat down in my chair. "The cool kids, the jocks and cheerleaders, they have everything easy. Everything's given to them. It seems nice, but they're not developing the skills they need for life. They're gonna be sitting in a bar forty years from now, still talking about how they won the big game. Meanwhile, you guys are learning all the best coping skills to make you successful later on. It's what I did."
I saw Krystianna look sympathetic. First meeting, and already I could tell she was the sensitive one.
"I was always writing stories, talking about ghosts and monsters in school," I said. "I had teachers tell me I needed to do more math. One of my journalism teachers told me I'd never become a writer; she said I didn't have what it takes. Every couple of years I clip out one of my columns and send it to her. It's actually about time again."
The kids laughed. I said,"I was told to knock it off with the ghost stories, and now look what I do for a living. My columns are very popular. I actually wrote in one a while ago that I'll give my old teachers a tour for free. That way, I won't have to do any math."
I stood up and looked at all the kids. "This year, you guys are my kids. This is your new home. You guys are Dumbledore's Army. And I'm gonna make you into the best paranormal investigators in the county."

You'd think, as a paranormal investigator, that I'd encounter scary things. Which I do, all the time, but not ghosts and monsters. It's the general public that scares me, or at least about fifteen percent of it. I'd been hoping I'd seen the last of the weird guy in the white robe, but he slunk into the library while I was on the desk, looking around.
"Is it safe to come in here?" he asked.
"Of course, sir," I said. "The public library is safe for everyone."
He looked me over---My shirt with the ghost on it, and then my black eye. "It doesn't look like you were very safe," he said.
"Oh, I did this at home."
He slunk off into the stacks. Zach said,"That's one hell of a shiner you got there. How did you manage that?"
"Wish I had a good story to go with this, but I slipped in the shower," I said. "My head hit the wall, and then because I wasn't finished yet, hit the bathtub rim on the way down."
Zach winced. "Ouch."
I grinned. "Oh, yeah,  it hurt like hell."
I looked at my e-mail. "Hey, Zach," I said,"Can you watch the desk for a minute? A relative of the guy who donated our Native American artifacts says he's coming to see them, and I have to go and fetch them from the attic to put on display."
"Sure," said Zach. "Go ahead."
The Ross Library's attic was built as part of the old mansion in 1887. Getting to it is always somewhat of a process. I took the elevator up to the second floor, then walked down a long, dark hallway and into the old section. Turning left, I walked up the stairs, and I was there.
Most of the library's old spaces reminded me of something out of Hogwarts. I walked into the room with the artifacts in it, and then I noticed the old book on the shelf.
It was old, battered, published in 1856. I paged through, looking at the chapters---It was a local history book, but one written when Clinton County only had a few years of history.
When I went downstairs with the artifacts, I took the book, too.

"So long, little guy. See you after school."
Paul paused on the sidewalk just barely long enough to give me a hug, and then darted into the school. I watched him go, then I turned and walked back down the street, carrying the travel mug Tracey had given me for Christmas a few years back, drinking my coffee.
I walked home. I walked past the Elliott House, home of a former mayor; the Wait House, oldest one on the street; the Probst House, home of a former city councilman. I got to my own home, the Yost House, built in 1884 and haunted by Ida Yost.
Fed the dogs. Had breakfast. Went upstairs and wrote an article. went back downstairs and binge-watched The Umbrella Academy.
Looked at my watch. Ten-fifteen.
I walked out to the garage. I'd been cleaning it, for lack of anything better to do. Under normal circumstances I can go for years without bothering to clean the garage, and have. But a couple of hours without the kid, and I'm doing it for lack of anything better to do.
I'd been making some inroads into all the junk, throwing some out and discovering hidden, unknown lands behind some of the cardboard boxes. Some years ago, my wife had purchased a huge desk at a yard sale, shoved it in the garage, and forgotten about it. I studied it for a little while.
I shoved it into the corner, and then began to surround it with boxes.
In a few minutes, I had walls of cardboard built up, blocking most of the view of the desk. I had a small entrance, so I could get to the desk, but you'd have to be practically on top of it to notice it.
I've always built secret spaces for myself. Ever since I was a kid, I'd liked creating little hiding spots, bolt-holes I could spend time it. Sometimes with no idea what I was even going to do with them. As a kid on my father's farm, I'd had a shelter in the woods, a hiding space above the garage, and one in the attic. I hadn't outgrown the desire as an adult, either---I'd had a secret space down at the Piper Museum, and at least two at the library. With some minimal effort, I could construct one in my own garage.
Again, I had no idea what I was going to actually accomplish with a hidden space. But it was something to kill time while my son was in school.

Paul had recently joined the Cub Scouts. I'd been a scout when I was a kid, and I remembered a lot of it. I didn't remember the weekly meetings instilling a strong desire to go off and drink alcohol, but that may be just perspective.
"Dad!" Paul called. "I saw a monster!"
We were hiking through the forests of McElhattan, part of the weekly activity. Paul was walking with his classmate Xander. I asked,"Was it a bipedal land monster, or more the water monster type?"
"Water monster," Paul said.
"And I saw Bigfoot!" Xander added.
"Good," I said. "Get pictures."
At the end of the trail was Zindel Park. The kids were allowed to run wild and explore a bit, and Paul and Xander started darting around. It had been a year since I'd been there, breaking an old curse. I tried to check in every once in a while, and the Cub Scout hike had seemed as good a time as any.
I climbed up on the concrete dam structure while the kids were charging around. Kneeling down with a flashlight, I looked through the metal grate and down into the water. It was too dark for me to see the Giantess statue, which was a relief.
An old friend of mine, Barenda, spotted me as I climbed back over the wall. Barenda, now a parent, had once been a teenager in a group I'd run.
"Looking for something?" she asked.
"Just an old curse."
"Really? Cool. My daughter would like that."
"How old's your daughter now?"
"Fifteen."
"You know, I run a class on this stuff for teens. We're meeting tomorrow night, if she'd like to join."
"Great," said Barenda. "We'll be there."

"Glad you guys could all make it," I said. Barenda was there, next to me at the table, and she'd brought her daughter Koti. Olivia, Krystianna, Austin, and Kayla had also made it. I said,"How's everything going tonight, guys?"
"I have a school project," Kayla said. "I was wondering if I could keep a blog on this group, for my computer class."
I thought about it for two seconds. It would give her something to do, plus it was good that she was taking pride in the group. "I love that. Send me the link; I really want to see that. Now, remember, I have my haunted tours at the end of the month.You guys get in free, because you're my kids. And I have a favor to ask."
"Uh-oh," said Austin.
"No, no, it's cool. I recently found an old book that suggested that the Native Americans believed this whole valley up along the Susquehanna was cursed. Because I have to fulfill an annual curse quota or risk losing my job, I'm gonna ask you guys to help me investigate this on the tour. Anyone who comes along, I'll loan you my equipment, and you do the testing for me while I give the tour. Let's find out how paranormal this city really is."
Krystianna grinned. "I can't wait. I'm coming as long as Kayla can give me a ride."
"Of course I'll be coming," said Kayla.
I smiled. "Great. Now let's learn how to use this stuff, and then get some practice in the attic."

I led the kids into the attic, where nobody ever went. The kids followed me like baby ducklings after the mother. I chose the newspaper storage room, turned on the light, and turned to face the kids.
"Okay, when investigating, the first thing you do is get a baseline," I said. "Kayla, check EMFs. Krystianna, get a look at the temperatures. Look for fluctuations. Go slow and steady with the laser thermometer, like...." I trailed off. I was moving my laser thermometer along the wall, and suddenly I stopped and frowned.
"Do we have a ghost?" Kayla said. "Tell me we have our first ghost."
".....Maybe," I admitted. "We have a big jump in temps over here....I went from sixty-five to seventy-four, which is huge, and now I can't replicate it."
"Let me see if there's more of that," said Krystianna.
"Didn't we get temperature drops up here once before?" asked Olivia.
"We did, a year or two back. This is interesting; that's a pretty big drop. Let's do an EVP session and see what we get."
"If we have time, can we play it back afterward?" asked Kayla, who was rapidly emerging as the ringleader for this whole group.
"Sure, I don't see why not. We just need to take time to get one group picture before we're done. Let's get to work."

I reached across the table and turned off the digital recorder.
"So we didn't get much on the audio," I said. "That's okay, sometimes that happens. But now you understand how to do an investigation. You guys did a great job tonight."
"And we're going to do it during the tours," said Krystianna.
I nodded. "That's right. You guys are my eyes and ears during the tours. Hope you all can make it. Next month, we're doing Bigfoot. See you guys soon."

I spent the day leading up to the tour pacing the library and doing math in my head.
"I'm hoping the weather holds out," I said to Mel when I paused briefly by her door. "If I can make four hundred sixteen dollars, I break my record. That's a total of a hundred and four people. Four dollars apiece."
"Good luck," Mel said without looking up from her computer.

I was still pacing that night, outside in the dark as people began to arrive. A carload at a time, people arrived. Kayla, Krystianna, and Aubree all got there together.
I smiled.
"Guys! Thanks for coming. What we're gonna do is take the equipment and investigate during the tour---Kayla, you take charge, Notify me if we get anything, immediately. It's all part of the show, but it may tell us something, too. Here, Kayla, you carry the bag."
The kids all grabbed some of the equipment---Kayla took the EMF detector, and Krystianna took the laser thermometer. Already, they were all learning their favorite tools.
"This is gonna be great," said Aubree cheerfully.
"You nervous?" Krystianna asked me.
"I got a record to break tonight," I said. "I'm scared to death."
I turned on my belt-clip speaker, and stepped up onto one of the picnic benches.
And as I face the crowd, I feel something calm come over me. And the night went from an intimidating goal....To me just doing the thing I do.
"Thanks for coming tonight, and supporting the Ross Library," I said. "My name is Lou, and I'm a member of the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers. Tonight, I'm going to take you around the city, and tell you about some of the local hauntings. The Native Americans who lived here hundreds of years ago called this area Otzinachson. It was believed that this meant 'Demon's Den,' and that the land was cursed. And we're going to hear about some of that tonight. And I invite you to pay attention, and think of how many of these haunted buildings were made from the stone and clay of this same cursed land."
We walked down the alley, and I stood in between two of the homes. "I chose this spot because we're in between two documentably haunted houses here. My my right is the John Brown House, haunted by undertaker John Everett Brown, who fell from his stairs and cracked his skull in 1938. On the other side is the Reuben Brawn House, owned by a local lumberman and haunted by his daughter Maude, who died of typhoid in 1893. LHPS has investigated that one, and actually had to run our cords out the window because the house is so big and twisty inside."
We walked down the alley. Krystianna caught up to me and said,"Lou, we got a temperature drop back there. Sixty-nine to fifty-four."
"That's pretty big. Was it closer to the Brown House or the Brawn House---" Not everyone is me. "---On the right or the left?"
"The right."
"The John Brown House. Excellent!"
The next stop was Triangle Park, where I told the story of the Giantess, and then on to stories about the Giwoggle and the Jersey Devil. I talked about the curse of the courthouse, and then we moved down Water Street to the Fallon Hotel, where I pulled out my photocopied Lock Haven map.
Krystianna looked at me with some incredulity. "Is that a script?"
"If you call this mess a script." I showed it to her, "When it's a newer tour than usual, I generally write the stops down with a little note, then I highlight the route. Makes it easier to remember."
"Cool."
Mad Anthony Wayne and the murder of James Sesto filled out the tour, and we wrapped up back at the library.
"Just a warning, Lou," said Kayla,"The guy over there is going to try to talk to you about orbs." She rolled her eyes. She'd learned really well.
"Thanks for the heads up," I said.
Kayla handed me my shoulder bag---She'd already collected the equipment. Good girl. I gave the kids a group hug.
"You guys did great tonight. You're my kids. And I didn't break my record....But that's okay. Cause I got to spend time with you guys."
Krystianna grinned. "I'm glad we got adopted."
"I'm proud of you," I said. "Go home, get some sleep. Thanks for coming out tonight."

I pulled out of the alley and parked my bike in the garage. By flashlight, I stepped into my secret hiding spot and counted the money.
Then I took out the group photo we'd taken at the last meeting, and looked it over for a moment. I smiled, and set it on the desk.
Things were looking up.

Home On The Strange

In the back of the car, Paul stirred and opened his eyes. Looking around, he said,"I know where we are! We're almost to Grandpa's!"
"That's right, little man," I said. "We're in Slatington. Should be at Grandpa's house in five minutes."
"And then I get to see Miles!"
"You do. Miles should be there."
"I'm so excited!"
"Tomorrow morning, we'll be at the annual adoptive family picnic."
Miles, my brother's beagle, ran to greet us as we got out of the car. Paul gave him a hug. "Miles! I misseded you!"
It was dark as we walked into the house. My father was inside, walking with a cane---It was the first time I'd seen that.
"Grandpa!" Paul hugged him.
"Hi, Dad," I said. "How's things?"
"Not bad. I saw a bear in the woods the other day. How's things with you?"
"Pretty good. I did a good fundraiser for Highland Cemetery last week." I set down the luggage. "Hey, Dad, when I was a kid you talked about seeing a shadow figure down in the meadow. You remember that?"
Dad frowned. "I don't."
"It was a long time ago. You mentioned you'd seen a misty sort of figure down in the woods, near the creek. Might have been on a Boy Scout trip you told this story; I don't recall."
"Well, I probably made it up to entertain you, then. Sometimes I did that."
"Too bad, actually. I've recently discovered a corresponding legend from the area."
"Daddy!" said Paul. "I'm teaching Miles how to play Legos!"
My wife and I said simultaneously,"Bedtime."

After everyone else had gone to bed, I went out on the porch. I lit a cigar, and walked up the driveway to the old barn wall. Sitting on it was a girl who always looked like she'd just gotten out of bed. Her dirty blonde hair was a mess, and her white sweatshirt was rumpled. I sat down next to her.
"Hi, Casey," I said. "How you been?"
"Pretty good," said Resurrection Casey. "I'm having clandestine meetings after dark with my mentor."
"Yeah, well, keep it down. My dad'll kill me if he finds out I snuck out past curfew." I handed her twenty dollars. "Knew I'd be seeing you. Here's your bus fare."
"Hey, thanks. You hear it's a full moon on Friday the thirteenth tonight?"
"Yep. Perfect time to get together." I looked up at the clouds. "Not that you can tell by looking exactly."
"We doing any training while you're in town?"
"Yeah. Got two things going right now. One is the Walnutport Canal---"
"The Lady In White!"
"The Lady In White. For decades, there's been a story of a ghost woman in a white dress roaming the canal."

"You grew up here," said Casey. "Ever seen it?"

"I had one experience, and it's a really stupid one," I admitted. "Years ago, I was walking out there, and I did see a woman in a white dress along the canal. I had a Polaroid with me, and I snapped a photo. When it came out, it didn't show the woman. She was gone."

"Oh my god. So the only proof you have...."

"Is a photo that shows nothing, yes."

"Bummer."

"I'm gonna check it out tomorrow. I want you to check into possible explanations. Visit the Slatington Library and pull some books; see if we can back this up historically. I'm also working on a Henry Shoemaker legend that happened not far from here. A hundred and five years ago, Shoemaker and his wife came through here, in the summer of 1914. He found a legend of an Indian who was buried up to his neck in the Lehigh River. This kind of tallies with something my dad claimed to see in the woods, not that he remembers telling me that. See if you can find any verification of the legend."

"I'm on it! What else?"
"I'll meet you tomorrow evening, and we'll hike down and check out the site. I brought my equipment, we'll see what we can find."
"Awesome."
"How's school going?"
"It's boring as hell. I like the writing part. Algebra can go straight to hell."
"Well, I don't disagree, but you sometimes use that, too."
"Bleh. Sucks. Otherwise, things are good."
"Good. I'll meet you tomorrow."

"You want to stop at the canal before we go back to your dad's?" my wife asked. I was sitting beside her in the Prius as we returned from Doylestown, the annual picnic for adoptive families. We'd met some new people, Paul had played with other kids, and my T-shirt with Bigfoot riding the Loch Ness Monster had drawn an inordinate amount of attention.
"Yeah, thanks. I just want to take a walk, do a little checking around."
Michelle pulled into the small parking lot by the Walnutport bridge. We got out. Paul saw the Lehigh River, and immediately ran for it. I walked up over the hill and along the canal.
I'd brought along my leg rig, the small pouch that hooked on my belt and strapped around my leg. It had my equipment in it. I much preferred the tactical vest, but I didn't want anyone thinking I was a shooter. I'd never had to worry about that when I'd been growing up in Slatington, actively getting into trouble. You never know these days.
I slipped an EMF detector out of a pocket, and held the button down. As I walked, it went off by the canal. I looked around and didn't see any reason for this; I followed procedure and snapped a few photos and took a temperature reading. I got nothing unusual that I could see, but the EMFs were weird. I didn't even see any power lines around.
I got as far as the bridge and the locktender's house before turning around. There was a sign there, much like the informational tourism signs I'd helped design in Lock Haven. I read it over; it talked about Frank Kelchner, the final locktender of the canal. I snapped a photo; I might be able to use that information later.
I walked back to the car. Michelle and Paul were emerging from down at the river. Michelle asked me,"Did you get what you needed?"
"I may have, yeah."

My brother and his wife were home when we got back to the farm. I gave my brother a hug, and said,"I need to look something up. The computer password still the same?"
"I think it's on and ready to go, actually."
I sat down at the computer and went to findagrave. I hate online research, and at home I'd have access to all of the books, newspaper articles, and cemetery records. But sometimes, you have to go with what you have. This kind of thing isn't always easy when you're off your home territory.
I searched for the grave of Frank Kelchner. I found him buried in a family plot in Union Cemetery, at the top of the hill in Slatington. It was surrounded with some of his family members, and I checked them out, too. One of them, Elmira Kelchner, jumped out at me.
Elmira had died in 1960, at age forty-seven. Never married. She'd likely been Frank's daughter, and had probably lived in the lock house. She was a good candidate to be the Lady In White.
"Is it okay with you if I do a fireworks show for Paul tonight?" my brother asked me. "He's not afraid, or anything?"
"Nah, he loves fireworks. He'd be thrilled. You have some?"
Jon laughed. "Come and see."
We walked out to the storage room, what had once been my old bedroom. He had a pile of fireworks as tall as I am.
"Jesus," I said. "I hope there's not a fire."
"One of my employees graduated high school," said Jon. "I wanted some fireworks to celebrate, and I discovered that the local store had some great deals. I found out that if you go on the right day, you can really make a steal, and I started stockpiling them. I have enough to really put on some good shows."
"Paul's going to love it," I said.

After dinner, I pulled on my jacket and walked outside. It was raining. I pulled my hood up. Resurrection Casey was waiting for me by the road.
"Find anything good?" I asked.
"The Lady In White story goes back a while; it's hard to tell how long," she said. "It seems the locktenders used to tell it, according to at least one source. One book speculated that it may have started because someone threw a mannequin into the canal during a flood."
"It's possible," I admitted. "I got some EMFs there this afternoon. I'm going to assign this one to you---Follow it up. Also check into Elmira Kelchner, death 1960, who is a good potential candidate. Find out how she died; that'll tell you something."
"This will make a good Halloween article for the LCCC paper."
"Oh, you're writing for that now?"
"Yeah, did you?"
I shook my head. "Not when I was in college, no. I was too busy looking for buried treasure in Bedbug Cave."
We walked down to the meadow. Casey said,"I couldn't find any record of the legend you talked about, with the murdered tribesman. Did your guy ever get really, really obscure?"
"Shoemaker? Almost always," I said. "A lot of his stuff was stories told only to him. We only know some of these because he wrote them down. I deal with that in Lock Haven all the time."
"I checked the distance between here and the Lehigh River," she said. "It's just a little over half a mile. Possible for a ghost to to go that far?"
"Maybe," I said. "That creek down there? It runs to the Lehigh. So, I don't know, we can theorize that a ghost might be able to follow it this far." I got my EMF detector and my thermometer out of my leg rig. "Let's investigate a little. EVPs are useless outdoors in this rain, but we might find something else."
She took out a camera. "Cool. Where do I get one of those neat ray-gun thermometers?"
"I'll get you one."
We began checking around, looking for evidence. Casey snapped a few photos. She said,"Lou. Look at this."
I looked. She'd taken one photo of me, looking around on the edge of the meadow. It showed a weird, white blotch in it, right behind me. It looked symmetrical, kind of like two overlapping ovals, sort of a white hole in space. I said,"Hmm."
"What do you think?"
"I can't exactly pinpoint it," I said. "Could be some sort of lens artifact. Could be a bug. Could be rain."
"Could be a ghost."
"Could be a ghost," I agreed.

"Is it time for fireworks yet?" Paul asked his uncle. Jon glanced out the window.
"Yeah, it looks dark enough," he said. "Come on out to the porch."
We walked outside. A minute later, Jon came out with an armload of fireworks. We could just barely see him in the yard, moving around in the dark. He called,"Ready?"
"Ready," I called back.
We saw his lighter, and then the fuse. And a moment later, we saw the fireworks go up---Huge, bright purples and reds.
Paul laughed appreciatively.
"Uncle Jon! This is the best....Fireworks....Ever!"

#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 Five): Fifty Shades Of Green

I had my handout on the table, and my lesson on crop circles prepared. For almost six years now, I've been teaching teenagers how to investigate the paranormal. We meet once a month, the group Teen Paranormal, and I teach kids how to responsibly investigate. I'd like to think I'm making a difference.
I was sitting in the Sloan Room with my equipment when one of the kids showed up early. Olivia. She sat down at the table.
"Hey, kid," I said. "We're learning about crop circles and hoaxes tonight."
"Can I talk to you?" she asked.
"Sure," I said. "What's up?"
"I saw something," she said. "Some kind of light."
I sat back in my chair, nodding. "Recently?"
"Couple weeks. My mom says not to tell anyone, because they'll think I'm crazy."
"I don't think you're crazy. Tell me about it."
"We were driving home from Bellefonte. I saw something in the air, flying around. It changed color, from white to red to green, and it moved around different.....Not, like, a plane, they don't turn, you know?"
"I know what you mean, yeah."
"So my mom says to not tell anyone, because it's crazy."
"It's not crazy. You saw a light in the sky; that happens all the time. Trick is to figure out what it was."
"How?"
"Get online and check what's in the area. Look for airports, military bases, drone clubs. If you can get back to the place, check for any scientific anomalies. Since you don't know what you're dealing with, check everything---Radiation, electricity, black light." As I said it, I realized I hadn't done this with my own sighting. "See what results you come up with, and where that leads you. I can loan you some equipment, and help out a little."
Olivia smiled. "Thanks."

After work, I rode down to Jay and Water Streets. I stopped and got out at the spot where I'd seen the purple light in the sky, and got out my equipment.
I'd been acting like a witness, not an investigator. I'd realized that as I'd spoken to Olivia. I hadn't done any tests, I hadn't really looked deeply into it. I began by testing for radiation traces, because that's the most pressing issue if it's there.
I realized just how dependent I'd become on being part of a group. It had been a while since I'd had a big UFO sighting, and I hadn't understood just how dependent on the Piper Museum I'd become. Was a time, I'd have just gone in and asked about flights and drones, and gotten my answers. I'd resigned from Piper last year. LHPS wouldn't help with this. I was on my own.
No radiation. No EMFs. No biological samples I could see anyplace. I was going to have to check later on flights and atmospherics. I packed my equipment back into the pouch.
I got back on my bike and took one more look around. Then I started riding home.
What the hell had I seen?

I was in my home office when my cell phone rang. I hate cell phones, but I'd been expecting this call. I was looking over an e-mail from a woman in Montgomery County who'd found my articles somehow and was asking about a haunting in her place in Norristown. I answered the e-mail.
I fished the phone out of my pocket. I was sitting at my desk, Paul in my lap, my figurines of Bigfoot, an alien, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Mothman sitting on the shelf above.
"Hello."
"Hello, Lou? This is the field researcher with MUFON. I'd like to talk to you about the report you filed."
"Sure." I'd put in a report with the Mutual UFO Network, listing it in their database. Since I'd been having no luck with this one, I'd decided to report it and open the field.
"You did well writing out the report; I only have a couple of questions. Most of the time, people miss things, or don't explain themselves well. You did a good job."
"Oh, thanks." Paul started trying to get my attention. I held up one finger.
"When I look into this, I'm going to call airports and military bases, see what I can rule out. That doesn't mean that I automatically think that's what you saw, but----"
I'd delivered some variation on this speech a thousand times. "You should know that I'm a member of the Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers," I said. "I do know how this goes. I get it."
"Oh! Well, okay, then. Can you describe again what happened?"
"I saw a purple light, moving erratically through the sky. I was looking roughly northeast."
"Did it have any kind of shape, or just a light?"
"No, I couldn't see any shape. It was just a light; aside from the color and the directional change, I would have assumed it's a plane."
"You said you were in Lock Haven. Normally, we try to give the coordinates as best we can figure it out. Would you care to give me a more precise location?"
"Why not? You got my cell number; you already know where to reach me. I was at the corner of Water Street and Sarah's Alley, looking northeast. The light was over the mountains, could have been half a mile off."
"Okay. Thanks. That's about all I need for now. Can I contact you if I have any further questions?"
"Of course."
"Thank you."
I hung up and set my phone down. "What's up, little man?"
Paul pointed toward the hallway. "I think there's a Giwoggle in my bedroom."

"Yes sir. Can I help you?" I stood at the circulation desk, facing the man standing there holding the book.
"Yeah, I have a question." He set the book down on the counter. It was an older printing, yellow cover. "My wife and I have this book. It's a first printing, you can see right here.....It's old, you can tell that. Can you tell me how much it's worth?"
"I can't, sir. I'm not allowed." I've been a museum curator twice in my life. It's one of the things they drill into you during training: Never put a ptice on anything. It can land you in legal trouble. I get people who ask, but I'm not allowed or qualified to price an item.
"Why not?"
"I'm not qualified to say how much," I said. "There's a rule that I can't put a price on things. My advice is to find an appraiser."
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you could give me some idea."
"Not allowed, sir. There's a good book appraiser in Avis, and I'd ask her."
"Well, how much would you pay for it?"
"I really couldn't say."
"I don't know why not."
"I'm not a trained appraiser, sir. My opinion would be meaningless."
"Not to me."
They always push when I say no, but this guy was really trying to press it. Mel was watching with some amusement. "Sir, I'm sorry. I'm not an appraiser, which is what you need. I am not qualified or allowed to discuss money."
He thought it over.
"Can anyone else here give me a....?"
"No, sir, none of us are appraisers."
He took the book and left. Mel said,"Well, that was interesting."
"I get that a couple of times a year. He was worse than most."
"At least he wasn't that guy in the white robes. Where's he been?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him in two, three weeks."
"Maybe he went back to basketmaking."
I laughed. "I don't have a better explanation."
Mel handed me a copy of UFOs Above PA. "Your ILL book came in. You have it until August nineteenth."
"That should be way more time than I need," I said. "Thanks."
I went back to my desk and re-opened the e-mail from the Montgomery County woman. I couldn't do too much of an investigation from a hundred miles away, but maybe I could find out a few things.
I checked the website for Montgomery County. It had some of the records online. I signed up for an account and went to work. It took me a couple of tries before I figured out how to best search, but I came up with the deeds on the house going back to 1984. I found all the owners names, and then went to check obits.
I found one for the woman who had owned it in 1984, and then checked Findagrave. Her grave was in Montgomery County, and I traced a couple of her relatives. Her daughter had had a baby who'd died in 1986, while the family had still owned the house. Bingo.
I wrote it all up and e-mailed it to the woman. Not perfect, but not bad from halfway across the state.

"Good morning, Daddy!" Paul walked into the bedroom. I sat up in my Chupacabra pajamas, checking the time. Eight-fifteen. He'd gone easy one me. "Happy birthday!"
"Thank you, little man."
"I maded you breakfast in bed!"
He handed me an open Jello packet and a bottle of Gatorade. I smiled. "Thanks, little guy. That was sweet of you."
"Are you going to work today?"
"I am, just a little later."

I was mowing the lawn while Paul splashed around in his pool. My mentor had sent us the pool, a decent twelve-footer, and Paul loved it. I was within sight, getting some mowing done, when I looked up and saw Joel standing on the sidewalk.
Joel was a city councilman and candidate for mayor. I turned off the mower and walked over to him. I'd been expecting him to drop by, and had left him a note on the door. Joel had no reason to think I might be mowing the lawn.
"Glad I caught you," he said. "Here's the key."
He handed me a thick key. I put it on my Bigfoot multi-tool keychain. "Thanks. I'll lock up the playground on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and whenever else you need."
"That's a big help." He'd led a fight to get a publicly-funded playground opened to the public again, instead of only the school district. I'd volunteered to help out.
"You know, there's an old law on the books that says the mayor can recruit his own private army," I commented. "I never thought it would be for a playground."
"I'm not the mayor yet," said Joel.
"Wait until November," I said.

When I got to work, there was a box of doughnuts on my desk with a note from Eleanor, one of our best volunteers. I smiled and carried them to the back room---We have a counter that we call the Bermuda Triangle, because anything put there disappears.
Mel and Zach saw me bringing in the doughnuts. "I was wondering if you were going to share them," Mel said.
"Oh god, of course I'm going to share them," I told her. "No way I'm capable of eating a dozen doughnuts singlehandedly."
Zach took a doughnut. "So how does it feel to be fifty, old man?"
"Well, right now I'm gonna gimp off to my desk and set a spell before I forget why I came here," I said. We both laughed. "No, actually, it's not bad. Nothing particularly feels any different."
Nancy, the children's librarian, came in. "Oh, doughnuts!" she said. "I'll just have a quarter of one. Anyone want to split it?"
I grabbed a strawberry doughnut. "I'm going to my desk. I don't need that kind of negativity in my life."
I sat down at my desk.
Nothing feels any different....
My line rang. I picked it up. "Ross Library."
"Hey there," said Resurrection Casey on the other end. "Happy birthday!"
"Hey, Casey. Thanks. You get your bus fare this month?"
"Just came, thanks."
"Anytime. You calling from college?"
"Yeah, I'm between classes. I'm not dumb enough to think I can get you on your cell phone. How you doing?"
"Doing okay. I was just about to make a few calls. I'm following up on a UFO sighting in June."
"Oh, yeah? Who saw a UFO?"
"Well....Me."
"No kidding? At least you don't have to judge the witness reliability."
I laughed. "I guess not. I've been working on this and others half the summer."
"You know what? You've inspired me. It's been a little slow lately. I'm gonna look into some UFOs around here. Know any good ones?"
I brought up the MUFON map on my computer. "Got a black triangle in Walnutport."
"That sounds great. I'm on it. Happy birthday, boss."
"Thanks, Casey. I'm gonna make a few calls about the UFO."
"Have fun. See you!"
I was just getting off the phone when Tif rolled in with her wheelchair, Paul riding on the back. "Happy birthday, Daddy," she said. She handed me a patch. "Got this for you."
It was a nice patch, grey and white, showing the river and the words LOCK HAVEN. I smiled. "Thanks, hon. It's great. I need to figure out where I'm going to wear it."
"Happy birthday, Daddy!" Paul said. Paul loves birthdays. I hugged him.
"Did we come while you're too busy?" Tif asked.
I shook my head. "Nah, just following up on a UFO. Nothing from the airport, Nothing from the military bases. Not that I expected much, but still."
"What's next?"
"Not sure. I got a book through ILL, but it's not as good as I thought it might be. The author reported some interesting sightings, but he dramatized them. He also goes out of his way to discount most explanations, basically blowing off the government testing as a possibility. Hell, government testing probably accounts for half the sightings."
"Have a good birthday anyway. You're fifty!"
"I am well aware that I'm fifty. It's actually been a good day. I ordered myself a new Snallygaster shirt." I was currently wearing the blue one that showed Bigfoot being abducted by a UFO. "Gotta plan for next month. I have a lesson on UFOs coming up, and a couple of fundraisers."
Tif smiled. "That sounds fun."
"We can only hope."

I was at the grocery store after work, which is my usual stop. It's nice having the local grocery halfway between work and home. I was grabbing something to eat, plus stuff for dinner tomorrow.
My fiftieth birthday was almost over. A song began on the speaker system, and I found myself bouncing my head and shoulders to the rhythm.
In my defense, it was "Dancing Queen."
I danced to the music, pushing my cart down the aisle. Anybody could be that guy.....The store was empty, which meant nobody saw the fifty-year-old in the alien hat bopping to the music.
"Who's that girl....Watch that scene....Digging the dancing queen."

Personal Space (Part Four): Creature Comforts

I was checking in returned books when my wife walked into the library. She uses the staff parking lot and the staff door; I'm used to that. I ride a bike to work; my family is owed a space.
"The kids are upstairs, in Children's," I said.
She nodded. "What are your plans for Sunday?"
I hesitated. This is the way she gets me into home repair, or a three-hour trip to Wal-Mart, or something. "I don't think I have anything going on."
"My cousin is in Maryland. He's up for the week. Want to go and visit?"
"You mean, drive clear to Maryland....."
"I was thinking we could go down Saturday night, after you're finished work," she said. "Find a hotel in Frederick and stay overnight. We can get together with my cousin Sunday."
I considered it. Short notice, but I had nothing going. It kind of reminded me of the stuff we used to do when we were first married, before careers and kids. Taking off for no reason, going exploring just because.
I smiled. "Why not? I'm in."

I walked into the house with the groceries, dropping them on the counter. Paul ran into the kitchen to greet me.
"Hi, Daddy! Are we going on alien patrol tonight?"
"Yes we are, little man. But give me a minute first, okay? Gotta look something up."
I went upstairs to my office. About ninety-six hours to find and plan an adventure in Frederick, Maryland. There had to be something fun I could look into.
I dropped at my desk and pulled out some books. I got The Field Guide To North American Monsters, I got Weird Maryland. I paged through with more interest than I ever had in my college textbooks, looking for something good.
I found it in Weird Maryland.
The Snallygaster.

"The Snallygaster," I said to Tif. "I've always wanted to go after the Snallygaster."
"And what's the Snallygaster?" Tif asked. I was sitting on the porch steps. She and Paul were floating in the pool, because it was about ninety degrees out. I'd found them there when I'd arrived home from my staff meeting, which had been inexplicably short.
"I'm not sure if you'd classify it under a cryptid or an enigmatic entity," I said,"But it's sort of the official state monster of Maryland. Stories go back about two hundred years---It's a sort of dragon thing with wings, a beak, teeth, and tentacles. Almost like it's winning a strangeness contest with the Jersey Devil. They were sighted during the Civil War, and often during Prohibition. Been reading about it for years, but I didn't realize it's more or less specific to Frederick."
"And you're going to investigate this thing?"
"I've had worse Saturday nights."
I walked inside, and up to my office. I got my copy of Weird Maryland and brought it down, showing it to her.
"I need a little break from all the UFOs," I said.
"You own a copy of Weird Maryland?" she asked. "You don't live in Maryland."
"Yes, but I may visit. This came in a set with Weird Virginia. Here, page seventy-two---Here's the Snallygaster."
I showed her the picture. It depicted a weird-looking creature with tentacles and wings. "Mom will never let you get one of those in the Prius," she said.
"Maybe a little one."

"Yay! We are in the hotel!" Paul dropped his backpack, and climbed up on the bed. Paul loves hotels; he treats them with a reverence reserved for sacred ground. We don't even have to be doing anything exciting; just the simple fact of a hotel is enough for him.
I set down my bag. "Tonight, we do the alien patrol in Maryland, little man. And I have an added surprise for you."
"What?"
"Here in Frederick is the home of a creature known as the Snallygaster. It's a sort of dragon thing with a beak. We're going to go look for that when we're out."
"Okay! You want to go now?"
"Let me just get washed up." I pulled my crytopzoology kit out of my bag, and slung it over my shoulder. "Give me just a minute."

Paul and I got off the elevator in the lobby---Like all preschoolers, Paul is the only one permitted to press elevator buttons. Two women were working the front desk; I walked up and leaned on the desk.
"Can I help you, sir?" one of them asked.
I've long since gotten over feeling stupid asking about this stuff. I said,"I'm a writer, dealing largely with paranormal occurrences."
"Paranormal....ooooh." She seemed impressed.
"My son and I are looking into a creature from around here," I said. "It's a sort of weird-looking dragon that's been sighted in Frederick. Are you familiar with the Snallygaster?"
They glanced at each other and gave me blank looks. "No," she said. "I've never heard of that."
The other one shook her head. I said,"Okay, then. Thanks."
Paul and I walked out the door. I said,"Nice night for this. Not too hot. North is that way, it's about nine-thirty."
"There's the moon," said Paul.
"It's almost full. Couple more days."
We walked through the parking lot, around the building, until Paul said,"Daddy? I'm scared. I want to go back inside."
"What's wrong, little guy?"
"I'm scared of the Snallygaster."
"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry." I knelt down and hugged him. "Don't worry, buddy. Look, nothing's going to hurt us. The Snallygaster is probably just a story. Sometimes these things turn out to be real, or sort of real, like the Mothman. Sometimes they just turn out to be old stories somebody made up, and it's our job to find that out, too."
"Okay."
"We'll do one run around the building, check for aliens, see if we can pick out our room, and then go in. Okay?"
'Okay."
"Come on, little man. Let's look for aliens."

Middle of the night. I woke up in the hotel. I'm at that age where I don't sleep through the night like I used to. Little by little, I'm turning into my father. Except cooler. I padded over to the bathroom, and then set down in the chair by the window for a while. I was wearing my Lake Erie Monster pajamas.
The clerks hadn't heard of the Snallygaster. Neither had the maid I'd asked on the way back in. So what did that tell me? Usually, people in these places are very familiar with the local legends, and willing to share. The people in Erie had been very open about the vampire grave. Up in Salem, you can't get them to shut up about witches. But nobody here knew what I was talking about.
So what did it mean?

"Can you connect to the internet on that thing?"
My wife was sitting on the bed with her phone. She looked up at me. "Sure. Why?"
I was pacing the room with my coffee. We'd slept until nine-ish and then hit the lobby for the free coffee, and went back to the room to pack up. I hate smart phones; I absolutely despise them. The words in any language do not exist to explain just how much I hate those things. But I'm not above letting someone else use one for me, if pressed.
"Find out something for me. Check and see if Maryland is a red state or a blue state."
"You mean, who they voted for...."
"Yeah. Find that out."
She began tapping on her little screen, a gesture that is foreign to me. "You planning to boycott the whole state, or what?"
"No, just some research. The Snallygaster has a tendency to show up in times of national crisis, and the legend sort of keeps things under control. During the Civil War, stories of it were used to frighten escaped slaves. In Prohibition, Snallygaster sightings were used to scare the feds away from stills. In fact, there was a story of a Snallygaster drowning in a whiskey vat. We're sure as hell in crisis now, and I wondered about that."
Michelle looked up. "They voted for Hillary."
"Hmm. Odd. How about just Frederick County? Can you find that?"
She looked for a moment more, and then said,"This county? Trump."
I nodded. "That explains a lot. It's why nobody I talk to has heard of this thing; usually that's not the case. The legend gets popular in times of crisis, but Frederick County doesn't feel like it's in crisis. They support Trump, the dumb bastards."
"The legend really works like that?"
"It's not the first time a president has played into it. Teddy Roosevelt hunted the Snallygaster in 1909."
Paul was leaning against the window. "Daddy! I'm looking for the Snallygaster out in the trees!"
"Good, little guy. You keep an eye out. We have a surprise for you on the way home."
"What is it?"
"You'll see."

Paul was splashing in the pool of the other hotel, where we'd met up with Michelle's cousin Michael. The little guy had been desperate to go in a pool somewhere, and Michael's hotel was much nicer than ours. This can happen when the company is paying for it. This may surprise you, but nobody goes into the field of either paranormal investigation or freelance writing to get rich.
"So what do you do?" he asked me. He'd been talking about trucking for half an hour, which I really didn't mind. I'd spent the time sipping a glass of water with lemon and relaxing.
"Little of everything, more or less," I said. "Librarian, writer, tour guide, paranormal investigator."
"I envy you," he said. "Love the paranormal TV shows. Ever see Bigfoot?"
"Not really, but I'm not ruling it out, either. Remember, panda bears, platypuses, and gorillas were all considered mythical until someone actually captured one. I don't know for sure about Bigfoot either way, but I'm not going to commit and say he's definitely not real."
"Ever catch any ghosts?"
"Occasionally. More often, I find some conclusion that fits what we know. That's the thing with paranormal investigation---You check every possibility, and try to rule things out. Sometimes you wind up with a mystery, but I'd just as soon solve one."

You can get from most of Pennsylvania to most of Maryland by simply staying on Highway 15. We were riding up the highway in the afternoon, going north, heading back home. Paul was in the back, amusing himself by asking,"What's my surprise?"
"You'll see in a minute, little man," I said. "We're almost there."
I looked over to the east, along the mountain range, and pointed. "Lenticular cloud." It was a big, lens-shaped cloud over the horizon. "You remember I mentioned them when I talked about Hiram Cranmer last week? That's what he was looking at."
"Oh, yeah," Michelle said. "I've never seen one before."
"They're fairly uncommon. A lot of people mistake them for UFOs, especially around sunset."
"I don't blame them."
"Must be some turbulence over the mountain."
I watched the cloud as we rode past, going north.

"Here's your surprise, Paul," I said as we turned into the park.
Paul looked over the playground. "Aww....There's no slide."
"Oh, guess again, pal." I got out of the car as we parked, and let him out the back door. "That big, tall thing there? That's the slide."
He gasped, looking at it. The thing looked like a covered bridge set up on one end, and had to be sixty feet tall. He said,"Can I go on it?"
"Of course, little man. That's why we came."
He ran for the entrance, and I followed. I asked him,"You want me to come with you?"
Paul looked up the slide. "Maybe the first time."
We walked up the ramp to the top of the slide, sat down, and looked down. The slide reached out below us, stretching down to the ground.
I looked at Paul.
"You ready?"
He grinned.
"Yeah!"
And we launched.

Personal Space (Part Three): May The Forest Be With You

It was a Sunday afternoon. I had the grill going, Tif and Biz came up to the house, and the table was stacked with gifts.
It was my son's fifth birthday party.
Five years ago, my wife had gotten the call at work, and then called me. I'd left my desk at the library and we'd jumped in the car, driving all night to New Orleans. I hadn't had much time to look into the local ghosts or the Honey Island Swamp Monster---We'd arrived fourteen hours after our baby boy was born, and adopted him.
"A new slingshot! Thank you, Daddy!" Paul cried out as he opened a gift.
"Knew you needed one," I said. "You can bring it along to Kettle Creek."
"Are you guys going back to Kettle Creek?" Biz asked.
I nodded. "Next weekend. I even talked my editor into an article for the PA Wilds. I've been invited to do another talk up there. I'm talking about Dorcie Calhoun, the guy who discovered gas in Leidy Township. He's quite the story---He claimed he got the location in a dream, and even though I'm not a fan of psychic activity, I can't argue the results. His family's cemetery was moved to build the Kettle Creek dam, and not all the bodies were found, so no wonder the place is so haunted."
"Gonna look into that?"
"We'll see. Last year, I looked into the water monster. This year, I thought I might check out some old UFO sightings. Hiram Cranmer claimed to have spotted UFOs in the area. Actual flying saucers, silvery, flying for a while and then turning translucent and vanishing."
"You got me my favorite book!" Paul shrieked, holding up his new copy of Where Is My Balloon?
"I did. I thought it might solve you checking it out of the library weekly."
"What's this big one?"
"That's from Aunt Paula." Aunt Paula had been my high school chemistry teacher. She'd been my mentor; Paul was named after her. "Let's get it open/"
I took my Swiss Army Knife and opened the box. It contained several pool toys for the inflatable pool out back, which was also a gift from Paula.
"This...is....so...AWESOME!" shouted Paul. On his birthday, it's useless to remind him about his indoor voice. "It's a UFO floatie!"
I removed the inflatable flotation device, shaped like a UFO. "Hunh. This is actually about the same color as that thing I saw."
"Can I take it out to the pool now, Dad? Can I?"
"Sure, little man. Let me blow it up."

I stood over the photocopier, making copies of the Army Corps of Engineers records for the cemetery removals in Kettle Creek. What's with that look? What do you do at work?
I'd been organizing the Pennsylvania Room, mostly because I'm the only one who knows the system in there. In the section with the death and funeral stuff, I'd found a bound copy of the records from 1960, when the dam was built and cemeteries were moved to accommodate it. So, of course, I had to photocopy it. I'm not dumb enough to assume I can read it and remember without taking a copy---I'd learned that the hard way.
"You find my phone yet?"
I looked up. It was the lunatic in white, standing far too close at about six inches away. It was another one of those times when he'd said something fairly nonsensical and I felt like I was supposed to respond with my half of the secret password. "And the dog plays the fiddle." Unfortunately, my mind didn't work that fast, and all I could come up with was,"Wait, what?"
"I lost my cell phone in here. I'm offering ten dollars as a reward."
"Well, nobody's turned one in at  the desk. That's about all I can say."
"You have a custodian here? Maybe he found it."
"He'd turn it in to the desk. That's procedure."
The conversation was almost making sense, and we couldn't have that. "I think they don't give you full minutes. When you pay for ten minutes, I don't think you really get ten minutes. You think they give you the full minute?"
"I can't say I ever timed it."
"They're ripping you off. It's a mafia thing. I know it."
"Um."
"Fortunately, I know people. I have contacts with spy cameras and secret stuff."
I finished my photocopies and got out of arms' reach, retreating back behind the desk.
"You still doing that open house thing?"
I squinted, as if it would help. "The what?"
"You know, you do them open houses."
"You mean, my tour? It's every Friday night, but we don't actually go into houses."
"Ohhh....I see. You think your co-workers maybe found my phone?"

I love Kettle Creek State Park. Take the paranormal aspects out, and it's still a wonderful camping spot in northern Clinton County, in Leidy Township. However, if you're into paranormal investigation, it's even better. It's got its own water monster. UFOs have been sighted there, and I don't doubt there have been Bigfoot reports, as well. To create the lake they had to move cemeteries, and some of the bodies were unfound, probably leading to hauntings, as well, and with Dorcie Calhoun's dream, there's even credible psychic activity. For a paranormal investigator, Kettle Creek is one-stop shopping.
Ian arrived as I was finishing the tent set-up. Ian is a friend of mine, and the ranger up at Kettle Creek. He plans programs, which is why I get to do this every year.
"Hi, Ian," I said. "I promise to make it good for you tonight."
"Oh, I'm sure," he agreed. "Got some information on Dorcie Calhoun?"
"Him, plus some other stuff as a side bonus. You know the old postmaster Hiram Cranmer saw UFOs in the area where Calhoun was drilling? I thought I might have some information about that, too."
"Sounds great! I'm looking forward to it."
"Me, too. If the weather holds out, we're going to go up and take a look at his grave later."
"In New Maple Grove?"
"Yep; I got the maps from CCGS. Calhoun's whole family was moved from the small cemetery on his mother's farm. So I have moved graves and UFOs to check into, how about that?"
"Sounds good. As long as the weather holds."
I looked up at the darkening sky. "Well, let's hope for this to pass over."

I sat in the tent, the rain pounding down. Paul had my wife's cell phone, and was sitting on his sleeping bag recording a video. He'd been watching a lot of YouTube lately, to my chagrin, and had been taking an interest in making his own little videos. Michelle lay on her sleeping bag on the other side of the tent, staring at the rain fly.
"Okay, here's the deal," I said. "If this were a desperate situation, I could try to get a fire started. But our lives don't depend on this, and I'm not gonna be able to start anything in this rain. So I propose we drive down to Renovo, and eat dinner at Yesterday's. And then maybe run up and find the graves."
"That sounds good," said Michelle.
"Daddy! I'm filming!" said Paul.
"Sorry, little man. If you can take a break, how about we find someplace in town that serves pizza?"
"Pizza! Yes!" said Paul.

I'd last eaten at Yesterdays in Renovo several years ago, on a paranormal investigation. We'd been looking into a house across the street, and it had run late, so we'd stopped over for a meal. It was perfect for LHPS---Built on an Indian burial ground, and right across the street from our investigation. It was also the best place to eat in Renovo.
"Would you like some dessert?" the waitress asked.
"No, thanks," I told her. "We're roughing it."
I looked at the sky as we left the restaurant. "I think we're clear," I said.
"Looks like the rain is done," agreed Michelle. "The weather is reporting that it's through for the day. A few clouds, that's it."
Clouds.....Something was nagging at my subconscious, something I was missing.
I said,"You can get wireless in Renovo?"
"They even have cell service up here now."
"In Renovo. Jesus." I looked at my watch. "We still have time to get to the cemetery before my talk."

"There it is! Dorcie Calhoun! I can see it from here!" I pointed as we pulled up in the Prius, Paul playing with Michelle's cell phone in the back seat. A cemetery that had been moved and probably haunted; it's the perfect family trip.
I leaped out of the car and took photos of the gravestone---Dorcie Calhoun, the man who'd gotten rich off a dream, buried with his parents. Then I turned and started looking for Hiram Cranmer's.
Paul climbed out of the car, aiming the cell phone my way.
"Okay, Dad, start speaking," Paul directed.
I'd done plenty of interviews and media appearances before, but this was the first one directed by a preschooler. "I'm looking for the grave of Hiram Cranmer, the man who saw ghosts and UFOs in Leidy Township," I said, falling automatically into my professional tour-guide voice, as if it wasn't my son pointing a cell phone at me.
"Yes, yes, yes," Paul said, trying to sound like an interviewer.
"Should be in this row somewhere, I think," I said.
"Yes, yes, you're doing it, you're doing it." I don't know where Paul learns this stuff.
I spotted the stone, a small piece with Cranmer's name, the dates, and his military rank. "Here he is!" I called.
I got a couple of photos of the stone while Paul filmed me. Then I looked up at the cloudy sky, with the mists rising from the mountains.
And it hit me.
I knew what Cranmer's UFOs were. Atmospherics, of course.....
"The video isn't over yet!" Paul called. "Talk about something from this cemetery!"
I darted back over toward Calhoun's grave.
"Well, I'll tell you this," I said,"A lot of the stones in this cemetery were moved. They came from someplace else in 1960, when they built the Kettle Creek dam. Those stones over there were moved, the bodies were dug up and moved to this place....How awesome is that?"
"It's good! Now say more for the video!"
"This one was moved, this one was moved....All of these were. And this one here was the man who discovered gas in Leidy Township! He knew to drill for gas by dreaming about it." I walked back toward the car. "And now it's time to go, little man. Still got time to get to my speech tonight."

I stood in the Nature Center, the small cabin in Kettle Creek designed for programs. Ian sat by the door, a grin on his face.
"Thank you, folks, for coming to listen tonight," I said. "I promise I don't always look like I sweated putting up a tent in the heat and then got rained on for two hours." I was wearing my blue UFO shirt with Believe on it. In the audience, Paul sat coloring, wearing his UFO shirt that said We come in pizza.
"Dorcie Calhoun was born on the family farm here in Leidy Township in 1905," I said. "Early on, he wanted to raise money and drill for gas. He was told there was none----Professional geologists told him he was wasting his time. But Dorcie Calhoun had a dream. A literal, actual dream---He dreamed that if he drilled by an old apple tree, he'd never have to work again. I'm not a big one on psychic activity, but I can't argue with the results. He spent fifteen years raising money, got a secondhand gas rig, and started up the mountain on a rainy, muddy day---Kinda like today actually. And when the rig got stuck, Dorcie said,'Forget it. Let's just drill here.' And he struck gas."
I paused for a moment to glance quickly around the audience. The trick is to sort of unfocus and let your eyes roam over everyone a little. That way, they all get the impression you're talking directly to each of them.
"Now, I'm gonna deviate for a moment, and mention Hiram Cranmer. Cranmer was the postmaster here in Leidy, and he had claimed to have encountered ghosts, buried treasure, and UFOs. Now, he saw the UFOs after Dorcie started drilling, and suggested that aliens were pretty interested in our gas fields."
Laughter.
"I have a better suggestion. Dorcie would have been changing the air currents a bit here when he was clearing the land and drilling, leading to some climate changes nobody had ever seen before. I think Cranmer was looking at that without realizing it. He was seeing lenticular clouds."
A woman in the front row picked up her phone; I could see her doing a search for lenticular clouds. I continued,"Lenticular clouds are lens-shaped clouds, often mistaken for UFOs. They're formed when air travels over the mountains, with turbulence on the other side. It would have happened with Dorcie clearing and drilling down below, and Cranmer saw them. This explains his report that they were silvery colored, and faded away."
The woman was showing everyone her phone, with a photo of a lenticular cloud on it. Ian looked it over, and nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I can see that."

I sat in the dark, at the picnic table, smoking a cigar. I was wearing my new UFO rig, testing it out. It's a black harness with pockets that I can clip other pouches onto, carrying all my investigative equipment with me. I liked the look, but it felt a little bulky. I was going to have to make some adjustments.
I heard the tent unzip, and Paul came out to me.
"What're you doing up?" I asked.
"Can't sleep yet, Daddy," he said.
"Okay," I said. "Sit here with me a while, and in a bit, we'll both go to bed."
"Together? At the same time?"
"Yeah. I got my chupacabra pajamas in there."
We sat companionably on the bench for a bit. Paul asked,'What's that fire in your hand?"
"This? It's a cigar." Paul had never seen one before; I'd cut back drastically since he was born. "I smoke them sometimes."
"Can I touch it?"
"Touch this end. The other end is real hot." I like to encourage curiosity and investigation.
Paul was silent for a minute. Then he said,"Can we go look for aliens, Daddy?"
"Sure, little man. And then bed."
Paul turned on his flashlight. We started walking down the path, to the south. Partway down, I felt his tiny hand slip into my own.
"I love you, Daddy," he said.
I smiled.
"I love you, too."