
Stories from my blog and Examiner articles,edited for print. Black and white 218 pages.
Avalable at Amazon here: TRUE TALES OF THE UNEXPLAINED
A look at all things unexplained and paranormal.
Generational tales that are passed down from family member to family member over the decades can be very interesting. They also can be greatly exaggerated.
Take my family with the tales of my maternal grandfathers adventures as a rum runner and moonshiner during prohibition and his subsequent death at age 96 from bad shine he brewed in his still. I heard the stories over and over as I grew up, only to find out later in life that they were all untrue. Of course dying quietly of old age in a nursing home is not as adventurous a yarn as an ancient moonshiner dying by his still, but such is life.
Then again a humble old story can become a great adventure when the truth comes clear through the decades. Long has there been rumors in my family of “an ancestor who was granted land in
Sometimes family stories are steeped in myth, other times they are only portions of a bigger truth that can be quite startling. Consider this old story passed down from the turn of the last century, told to me by an elderly gentleman this summer, dear reader. Of which type is it? You decide.
The Macchovi family had owned the carriage works for generations when they converted it to an automobile garage after World War 1. They transformed the large two story store room into the main bay for repairs and the old assembly area into the parts room to accommodate more vehicles being worked on at the same time. The large old store room was quite cold in the winter time, but in summer its spacious layout with two double doors on both ends and high ceiling made for a comfortable work area. During the summer days the bay was constantly a buzz with the chirping birds that nested in the buildings high wooden rafters. The bird were mostly small sparrows and while the noise was bearable, the constant droppings coating customers cars was not. Ever since the building renovation Uncle Marcel Macchovi had tried to rid the bay of the nuisance of the sparrows. He had tried shooting them, but instead of being rid of his trouble, he added onto them by shooting holes into the ceiling. He tried smoking them out, but the birds would only leave and return when the smoke had cleared. Barn cats were also ineffective, only able to catch a few birds a week of the multitude that called the shop home.
For years Marcel put up with the bird bombing, until one late summer day it abruptly stopped.
The crew didn’t notice the silence in the auto bay until almost
The pile was enormous. Marcel judged that not only were all the sparrows from the shop in the heap, many other birds were put there as well. The strangest thing was that they had no discernible injuries. No bullet holes, cuts, bites or any mark upon them. They were just dead. Many with their eyes open.
It was as their lives were just sucked from them. The bodies were in no ways molested, not a broken bone in the bunch.
It was very odd. Nobody had ever seen anything like it. But they shook it off and continued their busy day. They had almost forgotten it until a week later when they heard the neighboring farmers complain about the mass death of their chickens. The cages chicken coops themselves were undamaged, however when the farmers had entered them, all the chickens were dead and in a pile on the floor of the coop. Like the wild birds, they had no marks upon them. They had all suddenly died and mysteriously gathered in a heap.
A local Veterinarian was called to inspect the birds, but he too could not find a cause of death. There were no outward sign of disease, but would have diagnosed an avian virus if it were not for the bodies being piled up in a single heap. Someone was playing a trick, or the farmers had an unknown enemy, he surmised.
In response the local farmers stepped up their efforts to protect their livestock; both those who lost their fowl as well as those that had no attack. Guard dogs were purchased along with an increased patrol of watchmen pooled from a combined force of work hands who were good with a gun.
Three days later, the guard dogs on all the farms started to make a commotion during the night and as the watchmen came upon the nearest farm, the guard dogs were nowhere in sight, this happened on each farm they investigated that night. They were found the next morning in the middle of a large cornfield. The pile contained all manner of outdoor animals. From wandering house cat to coyote and even a few cougars. It baffled everyone.
Mrs. Rowse lived next to the Macchovi garage, she was a cat lover with a house full of them. When they all disappeared she called upon Marcel for help, he told her the bad news and she took it quite hard. Her countenance changed at the news, and never was the same again. She quietly made her way home, silently sobbing into her handkerchief.
Marcel went to console his neighbor on the next day, but she did not answer. He visited again the next day and once again Mrs. Rowse did not answer, he stayed a while and heard not a rustle in the house, banging on both the front and back door and with desperation a knock on the front window. On the third day Marcel was walking along the creek which was a shortcut to the Rowse house, avoiding the turn in the road connecting the properties, when he heard a noise on the other side of the creek above the small cliff side. It was a rustling in the bushes with a raspy breathing. Something was moving along the other side of the creek very slowly. Marcel unsheathed his knife, a large hunting knife he carried on the inside of his boot, carried for situations quite like this.
He quickly and quietly hopped the shale rock to the other side of the creek near the noise. He jumped up the little outcrop with knife drawn to see shat was making the noise.
It was Mrs. Rowse, lying in a little dip in the hill across a path. With a heavy breath her body moved by itself down across the dip. It was if she was being dragged without her body being affected by the woodland floor. She was floating there moving with each deep breath as if upon an invisible blanket.
Marcel jumped across the path to other side and was almost within arms reach of the woman when the sunlight reflected something unnatural.
It was if she were enveloped by a bubble that glistened in the light. A movement to or fro and the bubble vanished from sight. But at a certain angle the sun showed the bubble, heaving as the old woman breathed and dragged her inside of it’s unseen mass.
Marcel approached and poked at the bubble with the point of his blade.
There was a movement of sorts within the bubble, it swelled and became clear to see in the angle of his vision. He saw the movement form into a bulbous blur on the bubble, as if it had a giant zit that was to pop. Then the bulge on the bubble opened.
It was an eye.
An ungodly visage that manifest itself upon the gelatinous form focused its ethereal iris toward Marcel. And so he struck again at the iris.
He told his crew chief later that it was if the thing was real, but not. It was halfway into this world and that with a lucky shot he hit the thing at its weakest point and the thing squealed and faded away. Mrs. Rowse let loose one large sigh and passed on. The county coroner ruled that she died of lung disease because of smoking.
Marcel never knew her to be a smoker.
At the funeral service Marcel left unexpectedly. His chief followed after him and saw Uncle Marcel shoot himself in the head in the backyard of the funeral home. They were in the middle of the chorus of an old gospel hymn that Mrs. Rowse had loved all her life. The chorus to the song, “His Eye is on the Sparrow” is,
“I sing because I'm happy,
I sing because I'm free,
His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches me.”
The strange deaths stopped after Marcel’s suicide.
It is quite an odd tale, you be the judge. Did Uncle Marcel see something in the woods or was it all in his mind?
Was it some transdimensional life draining creature, or a demon from the pit of hell?
To me, the monster reminded me of a creature from the old 1960s cartoon “Johnny Quest”. That knife must have had a fine tip; I want one.
Until Next Time,
Pastor Swope
With all the Paranormal Investigators and groups out there, there are a lot of personal tricks of the trade that would be of great value to others. With that in mind I will gather together some videos and share them here with a link to the groups website. Once a week a new tip will be highlighted along with my regular content which will come regularly.
Here's the first tip from VIPER Virginia Investigators of Paranormal, Education and Research.
This past spring I lectured at a paranormal conference and met a few friends. During a break between speakers we wandered to various tables to meet, greet and buy. After having a book autographed by Stan Gordon, I turned to find my friend Cindy Willoughby the case manager for The Greater Pittsburgh Paranormal Society.
As I scanned the crown, I noticed a family wandering through the chairs in my direction. I felt something was wrong, something out of place as they wandered my way. You could say my spiritual spidey-senses were tingling as the mother, father and young daughter approached. This was not the first time such a feeling came over me, although rare I have experienced this heightened spiritual sense many times. My attention focused on the young girl, it seemed she was enveloped by something. It was if behind the middle aged mother and father there was a large hulkish creature of darkness that was walking in sync with the disheveled homely teen girl.
And then the sense was gone. And I was a bit unnerved.
I then saw Cindy at the other end of the hall and went over to her. I pointed out the family to her and asked her if she felt anything unusual about them. Cindy is a sensitive. She has the gift of second sight, as some would say. She can perceive the unseen and understand the heart of a person without them saying a word. Some call her clairvoyant because she can seemingly read people’s minds. Others call her a medium because she can see spirits. Cindy believes she has been gifted by God to help others. When she looked at the family she told me she she felt an oppressive spirit over the girl. She then turned to me and said, “She’s being abused.” That was the exact feeling I had as I saw the hulking specter attached to her. A confirmation, but sadly in a situation like this the only thing you can do to help is pray. They are after all anonymous strangers who you pass by the way, and even though you can spiritually discern a problem or issue-most of the time the only practical option you can have is prayer.
In historical Biblical language Cindy is a Seer. Most people who have a Judeo-Christian background would have the conception that this giftedness is some New Age though, but the gifts that Cindy has are spoken of throughout Scripture as supernatural gifts from God. In the New Testament book of First Corinthians, the Apostle Paul talks about the diversity of supernatural spiritual gifts:
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
1 Now concerning spiritual gifts, brethren, I do not want you to be ignorant: 2 You know that you were Gentiles, carried away to these dumb idols, however you were led. 3 Therefore I make known to you that no one speaking by the Spirit of God calls Jesus accursed, and no one can say that Jesus is Lord except by the Holy Spirit.
4 There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. 5 There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. 6 And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. 7 But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all: 8 for to one is given the word of wisdom through the Spirit, to another the word of knowledge through the same Spirit, 9 to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healings by the same Spirit, 10 to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another discerning of spirits, to another different kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11 But one and the same Spirit works all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills.
I have highlighted the spiritual gifts, and I will not go into how they all manifest themselves. But I want to investigate two of them; the word of knowledge and discerning of spirits. To many in various denominations the word of knowledge is the supernatural ability to know the unknown. You have a supernatural understanding of a situation or character of a person that could not be gained by the normal six senses. The gift of discernment of spirits manifests itself in various ways. Basically it is the ability to discern good from evil. Some can sense whether a person is worthy of trust or not, and others can also actually perceive spirits either visually or psychically. Many times these two gifts manifest together or with other spiritual gifts. In the Old Testament those who possess such gifts were called Seers.
In early
Many people seem to have these paranormal abilities from birth. Others receive them during a spiritual renewal as God’s Spirit fills them. Some in Fundamental religious circles consider that possessing the gifts without a spiritual infilling of the Holy Spirit is possessed with a demonic spirit that mimics the power of God. They also claim this explains the manifestation of psychic abilities outside of the Christian religion. Careful examination would seem to show that like any natural gift, supernatural gifts are inherent in some individuals and while some manifest these abilities at a young age or learn them through time, a spiritual renewal can activate the gift or further empower those who have already manifest the abilities. The spiritual renewal by the infilling of God’s Spirit acts as an anointed consecration of the gift, much like a physical consecration in a religious service of Holy items.
Many confuse the gifts of a Seer with those who practice divination. Divination uses ritual and/or items to gain knowledge. A Seer is supernaturally gifted with any doing of his/her own. Divination is essentially an artificial way to gain what the Seer has been gifted with naturally and supernaturally. There are some people with the gifts of a Seer who rely on techniques of divination. Not only is it unnecessary, it can be dangerous. Divination can attract spiritual entities that can manipulate, harm and harass an individual.
While I myself have had some of the gifts that a Seer has manifest themselves in my spiritual life, I would in no way consider myself a Seer. I remember while ministering in Hell’s Kitchen in the 1980s an urgency to pray for specific individuals in specific circumstances would press upon me. Most times I did not even know the individuals, but I would take a moment to pray. But for the ones whom I prayed for that I knew, it was astounding to see that I was praying for something that was actually happening for which I had no actual knowledge of. This sensitivity went on for many months and then faded. None of the gifts of the Spirit work in me consistently, they seem to ebb and flow when needed. And I did not experience any manifestation of spiritual gifts until after my spiritual renewal with Christ.
There are others who have had experiences since they were children. Many children seem to have the ability to sense spirits or angelic beings. The most common is seeing a person at the end of their bed or lurking in the corner. Some have other gifts of the Seer.
While attending Seminary I had a friend who’s 6 year old daughter who had the same type of prayer gift that I was gifted with, but to a greater degree. At prayer times she would often pray for people the family did not know, and when asked she told her parents that God had told her to pray for them. One time during a blessing before dinner, she blurted out excitedly, “We have to pray for Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey! They are in a car accident!” The Lindsey’s were members of their church and the family remembered them as they blessed the food. A few hours later word came through the telephone prayer chain that the Lindsey’s were in a bad car accident on the thruway while going out to dinner in the city. The accident happened at about the same time as my friend’s daughter interrupted the dinner blessing with her concern.
Whatever your worldview of Spiritual gifts, we are charged to use them to help others. There are those who have used them for fame and selfish gain that have tarnished their credibility and even lost their gifts. Some who have had the gifts removed have even relied on trickery and charlatanism to maintain their feeble grasp of power. Others have been overcome by spirits that are in no way holy or benevolent. And the one time rescuers become those who are in need of rescuing.
Until Next Time,
Pastor Swope
She took her time going down the stairs, carefully taking each step and swaying her hips seductively for effect.
But she had to be careful not to sway too much down the long staircase for she had the symbol held out before her outstretched arms. And the symbol was almost important as who she represented in this ancient celebration of spring, for held out before her was the egg from heaven that had fallen into the Euphrates and pushed to the shores by the fish,which had given birth to the goddess.
Ishtar.
The Babylonian goddess of fertility, love and sex. The queen of heaven.
It is she that the young woman portrays as she slowly descends the Ziggarut with the symbol of her divine birth in her hands. And her descent down the stairs ended the 40 days of weeping for her son Tammuz, who had been slain by a wild pig, and began the festival in her name in which the whole country celebrated the wondrous resurrection of Ishtar’s son through the divine power of the egg of life.
When the young priestess of Ishtar completed her descent the crowd gave up a wild cheer of abandonment and started the festival in the queen of heaven’s name. They would venerate the egg and other fertility symbols, feast on wild pig and with the assistance of the temple priestess and the temple prostitutes abandon themselves in an orgy to commemorate life and resurrection.
Sound familiar?
Ishtar. Easter.
Well except for the temple prostitute part and the wild orgy.
The Easter Holiday we celebrate is an ancient and old one.
We get the word from this most sacred of Christian Holy days from the ancient pagan celebration of Vernal Equinox, or the spring solstice. The fertility festival of Ishtar.
Almost universally celebrated among primitive cultures the spring solstice was chiefly a celebration of fertility. After the cold dead of winter the ground once again opened its nurturing womb for the seed that would eventually sustain life, birds and other animals began the mating process. It was a time of life after seemingly unending death, the death of winter.
If you do a search through the Internet about the origin of Easter, many sites will have you assume that the tradition has arisen within the Christian Era. The modern word Easter came from the Old English word ?astre or ?ostre or Eoaster which originates within the first century A.D. This is the name of the Anglo-Saxon pagan goddess ?ostre the goddess of the dawn who also had a celebration during the Vernal Equinox which also incorporated fertility symbols such as the egg and the hare.
But the Easter tradition goes farther back than the time of Christ, it even pre-dates much of the Old Testament. The symbolic imagery of the Babylonian cult of the fertility and Ishtar, their queen of heaven echoes back far into pre-history. Some of the first religious idols we find primitive man fashioning is that of a mother goddess who is endowed with supernatural sexual power to help the procreation of those who revere it.
We 21st century humans are used to controlling our surroundings. But even we with all our marvelous modern marvels are still bound by the forces of life and death. And to primitive man the dual Equinox both literally and symbolically portrayed the power of life and death over our human condition. But whereas in the Autumnal Equinox man has no power over the death of the earth that encroaches upon him, he can participate in the spring by rebirth by reveling in his own fertility. I think that in essence is why these symbols have lasted so long.
They are empowering.
We have no control over death.
But we can participate in life.
And through the multitude of generations that have passed since the high priestess has last walked down the Ziggurat’s stairs in ancient Babylon, mankind is still the same. We abhor death. It is a constant reminder of our own mortality. But we have power in life. And every spring we can celebrate it.
It would seem that Easter is just a continuation of an age old festival, a festival of new life. It is easy to say that Christianity in its infancy adopted this pagan holiday and its similar theme of rebirth and fashioned a synthesis of ideas from antithetical ideology.
But I see it a bit different.
With Christmas we have a similar problem, for Christmas takes many pagan symbols turns them into Christian ones. But the one problem for Christmas is that even though we celebrate December 25th as the birth date for Christ, most scholars say He was born either in late summer or fall.
But the time of Jesus death and His resurrection is not one of conjecture.
Jesus was crucified and died over the Pesach, the Jewish Passover. And He was resurrected three days later. There is no ambiguity over the time frame according to the scriptural records.
So in my world view the resurrection of Jesus and our celebration of Easter is miraculous in a multifaceted way. Not just for its Theological significance in New Testament Theology. But in that God used the imagery that was already there, in a time celebrated since the first twinkling of man’s intellectual assessment of the relation of himself and his universe. God used this ancient ceremony to show a deeper truth and to reach out to mankind in love and hope.
God met mankind where he was.
Just as today, no matter how desperate the hour for us personally, God meets us where we are. He stands along side us, acknowledges our desires and needs, and gives us hope.
And no matter what you call the time, Easter is above all, a time of hope.