“STANLEY STIERS: THE REAL MICHAEL MYERS” and More Real, Truly Dark Stories! #WeirdDarkness

STANLEY STIERS: THE REAL MICHAEL MYERS” and More Real, Truly Dark Stories! #WeirdDarkness

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IN THIS EPISODE: The last known words of Peter Rugg were “Let the storm increase! I will see home tonight in spite of the last tempest, or I may never see home!” Over two-hundred years later and he has yet to make it home – but that hasn’t stopped his tempest! (The Eternal Ride of Peter Rugg) *** Imagine attending college for several years, only to find out that the whole time you’ve been studying on top of the corpses of thousands of mental patients. That’s exactly what happened in 2013 when The University of Mississippi made plans to expand parking for their students and staff. (The Corpses Under The University of Mississippi) *** Dealing with a ghost or two is awful enough – but what if you’re attacked by a whole gang of ghouls? It was reported as real news in 1889’s Chicago Tribune! (A Whole Gang O’ Ghosts) *** Michael Bryson disappeared on August 5th, 2020 from Hobo Campground at Umpqua National Forest. He has yet to be found. (The Disappearance of Michael Bryson) *** When it comes to cryptids, you have many to choose from – Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, the chupacabra, the list goes on and on. But I’m willing to bet nowhere on the list of your favorite cryptids, or even the cryptids you’ve ever heard of, do you have an entry for “The Belled Buzzard” of Texas. (The Belled Buzzard Legend) *** When the Black Plague arrived at Eyam’s doorstep in the 17th century, its villagers were forced to choose between life or certain doom. It’s the tragic tale of England’s Plague Village. (The Black Plague Comes to Eyam) *** Was Stanley Stiers the real-life inspiration for Michael Myers in 1978’s John Carpenter film, “Halloween?” (The Real Michael Myers)
“The Real Michael Myers” from Casper McFadden at TheMorbidLibrary.com: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/yvj6ueze, and from TheScareChamber.com: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/vmew9uvb; “Halloween” theme piano solo by Noud van Harskamp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2T9m-fj8K9c, “Halloween Kills | Epic Orchestral Theme” by Mike Chibante: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E82MEfQiffk
“The Disappearance of Michael Bryson” posted at Strange Outdoors: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/mwvb3am8 (If you know anything that could help solve Michael Bryson’s disappearance, or if you were at the Hobo Campground around August 3rd, 4th, or 5th of 2020, please reach out to the sheriff’s office at (541) 682-4150, option 1, and reference case No. 20-5286.)
“The Eternal Ride of Peter Rugg” posted at SlightlyOddFitchburg.com: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/3z7pdtzn
“The Corpses Under The University of Mississippi” by Erin Wisti for Ranker.com’s “Graveyard Shift”:https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2p8tdu6k
“A Whole Gang O’ Ghosts” posted from Strange Company: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2p9ynpev
“The Belled Buzzard Legend” from Texas Cryptid Hunter: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2p875fxv
“The Black Plague Comes to Eyam” by Stephanie Almazan for TheLineUp.com: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/1aptirxk

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In 1912, two baby boys were born on the same day. One was to the Stiers family, who named their son Stanley. The other family is unknown. At the hospital a nurse switched the babies – some say it was an experiment to see if the families would notice, others say it was just for her own enjoyment. Unfortunately, the unnamed family perished in a car accident on their way home from the hospital. Soon, the Stiers discovered the baby they came home with was not theirs, and their real son had died in the car accident. They became hateful towards Stanley. They began drinking to numb the pain of this realization, and began to abuse Stanley. The Stiers family had a daughter named Susie a few years later. They treated her like a precious gift while continuing to abuse Stanley. Eventually, even young Susie contributed to the abuse. Around Halloween in 1923, Stanley desperately wanted to go trick or treating. However, because Susie also did not want to go, he was forced to stay home. That night, Susie was allowed to go to a party while Stanley suffered alone in his room. Apparently, Stanley then snapped. He waited for Susie to get home before grabbing a butcher knife and stabbing both her and their parents to death. He stayed in the house with their dead bodies and went trick or treating the next day. While out trick or treating, he encountered a group of kids that made his life hell at school. So he attacked them with the butcher knife as well, killing some and wounding others. Someone ran to call the police, and when they finally found Stanley, he was swinging on a swing set, eating his trick or treat candy. Stanley was then sent to a psychiatric hospital, though they could find nothing wrong with him. He was just evil. 13 years after he was admitted to the hospital, he escaped by snapping the necks of the orderlies who were in charge of him. At this point, he stood at 6’4” tall and had superhuman strength. Another orderly reported his escape and the police attempted to stop him in the facility’s parking lot. They tried shooting him, but their bullets hardly slowed him down. He apparently walked off into the night, never to be seen again. Some claim to have seen Stanley to this day.  Does this sound familiar? It might – if you’ve ever seen the John Carpenter horror classic, “Halloween” from 1978. In the film, a young man named Michael Myers was being babysat by his older sister on Halloween in 1963. He murdered her for seemingly no reason. Rather than face imprisonment, Michael Myers was sent to a mental health facility. He escaped from that facility on Halloween fifteen years later. He found his way back to his childhood home, and became fixated on Laurie Strode, who resembled his sister or was his sister or, well the whole movie storyline has us all over the place on that. Anyway, Michael murders everyone who gets in his way. Michael Myers has superhuman strength and is said to be unstoppable. Coincidence, or inspiration? What is the connection between Stanley Stiers and Michael Myers? Was Stanley the template for the shape behind the mask in “Halloween”?

I’m Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness.


Welcome, Weirdos – I’m Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you’ll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.

Coming up in this episode…

The last known words of Peter Rugg were “Let the storm increase! I will see home tonight in spite of the last tempest, or I may never see home!” Over two-hundred years later and he has yet to make it home – but that hasn’t stopped his tempest! (The Eternal Ride of Peter Rugg)

Imagine attending college for several years, only to find out that the whole time you’ve been studying on top of the corpses of thousands of mental patients. That’s exactly what happened in 2013 when The University of Mississippi made plans to expand parking for their students and staff. (The Corpses Under The University of Mississippi)

Dealing with a ghost or two is awful enough – but what if you’re attacked by a whole gang of ghouls? It was reported as real news in 1889’s Chicago Tribune! (A Whole Gang O’ Ghosts)

Michael Bryson disappeared on August 5th, 2020 from Hobo Campground at Umpqua National Forest. He has yet to be found. (The Disappearance of Michael Bryson)

When it comes to cryptids, you have many to choose from – Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, the chupacabra, the list goes on and on. But I’m willing to bet nowhere on the list of your favorite cryptids, or even the cryptids you’ve ever heard of, do you have an entry for “The Belled Buzzard” of Texas. (The Belled Buzzard Legend)

When the Black Plague arrived at Eyam’s doorstep in the 17th century, its villagers were forced to choose between life or certain doom. It’s the tragic tale of England’s Plague Village. (The Black Plague Comes to Eyam)

Was Stanley Stiers the real-life inspiration for Michael Myers in 1978’s John Carpenter film, “Halloween?” (The Real Michael Myers)

If you’re new here, welcome to the show! While you’re listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, my newsletter, to connect with me on social media, and more!

Now.. bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness!


Michael Myers is the terrifying killer from the Halloween movie franchise. Created by John Carpenter, he first appears in the film as a young boy who murders his sister, Judith Myers, only to return fifteen years later to kill even more teenagers as he searches for the sister who got away. Well, depending on which story from the movie franchise you choose to believe is canon.

While some believe that Michael Myers is simply a work of fiction, others believe his character is based on a real person – a boy named Stanley Stiers.

Stanley Stiers was born in 1912, in Iowa. At the time, his parents were elated to have a happy and healthy little boy. Unbeknownst to them, however, there was a mischievous nurse working in the hospital nursery. After Stanley was born, she took him and swapped him with another baby, just for kicks.

Both families happily took their babies home, not realizing the mistake. But there was more bad to come. The other family was involved in a terrible auto accident on their way home from the hospital. Both they, and the Stiers’ real baby, were killed.

Not long after, the Stiers discovered that their baby was not their own. The nurse in the hospital was sent to prison, but that did little to help the family deal with the situation they found themselves in. They grew resentful of Stanley, and began to drink heavily. They spent the majority of their time drunk, and shouting at the young boy, locking him in his room, and trying to make him miserable, as punishment for not being theirs.

Then they had another baby, this time a little girl. They named her Susie, and she became their whole world. She was their princess, and they gave her everything she could ever want, while still treating Stanley like he was the bane of their existence. Susie picked up on it, and she too, began to treat Stanley very poorly, often hitting or kicking him, and always yelling at him.

In school, Stanley was often bullied for how he looked, or how he behaved. His sister did nothing to help, often joining in when the other kids would tease or mock. He had no friends, and got very poor grades.

In 1923, when Stanley was 11 years old, all he wanted to do was go trick-or-treating like all the other kids. He had never been allowed to go, but his parents said no, yet allowed Susie to go to a Halloween party the night before Halloween. Little did they know, this would be the final straw.

Just hours after Susie returned home, Stanley snapped. He took a butcher knife from the kitchen and stabbed her multiple times, until he knew she was dead. He then turned on his parents, killing them in their beds. Finally, he turned to the family dog, killing him as well. When Halloween came, he went trick-or-treating for the first time ever.

Of course, his bullies were still out there, and Stanley attacked and killed as many as he could without being seen. At one point, he even invaded the home of one of his bullies, killing him and his entire family, before returning to the street to collect more candy.

He was having the time of his life, and stayed out until morning, sitting on a swing at the school playground, gleefully eating his candy. That’s when the Feds swooped in, and he was taken to a private psychiatric institution where he was studied for the next thirteen years. All records of Stanley were suppressed, including his Halloween killing spree. To the rest of the world, it was as though he never existed.

The government wanted to know what would make a boy snap like he did, and what gave him the strength and ability to kill so many people. They opened the study up by first looking for signs of the paranormal, but they found nothing. Not even the slightest sign of demonic possession. But they didn’t stop there – they knew he was a danger, and they continued working on and with him.

But then, on Halloween 1936, a couple of orderlies started to harass Stanley. He was now 24 years old, and had grown quite a bit over the past thirteen years. Standing at 6’4”, and 260 pounds, they should have known better. Stanley snapped their necks as easily as if he were snapping a pretzel in half.

He walked right out the front doors of the institution where he was met with resistance. The Feds had been alerted and were standing, armed, in the parking lot. Stanley didn’t stop though, he walked straight out, and while he was shot multiple times, he managed to take out everyone who would try to stop him.

Some say Stanley possessed super human strength, and that he was able to lift and throw a car, killing all the Federal Agents in the parking lot that night. Others say he was just that terrifying, that he felt no pain, and the agents backed down or were killed when Stanley got his hands on them.

With there being no legitimate or legal record of Stanley Stiers, we can never know for sure if he really existed. There is no record of any Stanley Stiers in Iowa – there are no birth or death records, most notably. There are also seemingly no newspaper articles regarding the gruesome murders he allegedly committed. You’d think if a young boy murdered anyone in a small town in Iowa, his story would end up in at least one paper. But there is nothing to be found. Not transcribed on local news stations, and not archived on Newspapers.com. It seems unlikely that every single mention of this crime simply slipped through the archival cracks.
John Carpenter has spoken many times about his inspiration for Michael Myers, and has never mentioned Stanley Stiers. Instead, Carpenter cited an experience from his time studying Psychology in college. For his degree, he studied mentally ill patients who had been admitted to an inpatient facility. It was at this facility that Carpenter saw a 12 year old boy with a thousand-yard stare that disturbed him. He described the boy as emotionless, with black eyes and an “evil” stare. It seems problematic to deem someone struggling with mental illness as evil just because of how he looks, but it was apparently a gut reaction. That boy heavily influenced the depiction of young Michael Myers in the film.
Another influence for Michael Myers was Ed Kemper, who is a serial killer who murdered ten women between 1964-1973. Kemper is highly intelligent and stands at 6’9” tall. He is also known as the Co-Ed Killer. Throughout his crime spree, Kemper targeted young women who were hitchhiking. His crimes also included sexual assault and necrophilia. It seems that the only things Kemper inspired in Michael Myers were his height, and his fixation on young women.
It seems that this legend was just a creative writing exercise that spread like wildfire across the internet. Some people believe Stanley Stiers must have inspired Michael Myers because the legend allegedly predates the film. Except that there are no signs of the legend popping up in any analog media, or even on any early-digital age media. The earliest mention of Stanley Stiers I have seen came from the mid-2000s. It seems more logical to me that a fan of the Halloween franchise decided to rewrite Michael Myers’s origin story to make it even more gruesome. The details just line up too nicely. But, hey, there are papers that haven’t been digitized, and some urban legends are more like an oral tradition.

While the boy John Carpenter described couldn’t possibly have been Stanley Stiers (John Carpenter wasn’t born until 1948, twelve years after Stanley escaped), is it possible his inspiration truly was the story of Stanley Stiers? Only John Carpenter knows.


Coming up on Weird Darkness…

The last known words of Peter Rugg were “Let the storm increase! I will see home tonight in spite of the last tempest, or I may never see home!” Over two-hundred years later and he has yet to make it home – but that hasn’t stopped his tempest!

Plus… imagine attending college for several years, only to find out that the whole time you’ve been studying on top of the corpses of thousands of mental patients. That’s exactly what happened in 2013 when The University of Mississippi made plans to expand parking for their students and staff.

These stories and more coming up.



“Let the storm increase! I will see home tonight in spite of the last tempest, or I may never see home!”

Those were the last words ever spoken in anger by Peter Rugg. A man short of temper, but long on rage, his white wig flopped about on his head, matching time with his furious gesticulation.

With the pleas to wait out the storm by his friend silenced, this soon to be unfortunate soul climbed into his one horse carriage and drove off into the night with his young daughter, Jenny, seated next to him. The two were fated to never reach their Boston home alive.

Peter Rugg was a man foolhardy enough to challenge nature itself and refuse the kind offer of safe haven at a time when just driving down the street had a 50/50 chance of survival. His anger and stubbornness are still known, these many years later, and his final night in his mortal coil might just be all the proof you need that a little bit of road rage can go a long way toward damning your immortal soul!

Our story opens sometime around The Boston Massacre in 1770. It was directly before, or after, the event that Peter Rugg left his Boston home on Middle Street for a day in Concord, with his ten year old daughter.

They were on their ride back home when the two were overtaken by a sudden and fierce storm. It was so intense, and typical of New England weather, that he was forced to redirect his route and take refuge with a friend by the name of Mr. Cutter, in a town called Menotomy.

If you don’t know where Menotomy is, don’t worry about it because it doesn’t exist anymore. Well, it still exists; it’s just called Arlington now. The name was changed in 1867 in honor of the people buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Don’t say I never learned ya nothin’.

Anyway, Mr. Cutter gladly accepted his friend and young daughter into his house to wait out the storm. That, however, would never actually happen. Ole’ Angry Face got a little antsy and decided he didn’t want to sit around being all dry and comfortable while there was still pavement to pound. He sat his daughter back in his carriage and mounted up, against the will of his host.

Mr. Cutter pleaded “Why, Mr. Rugg, the storm is overwhelming you. The night is exceedingly dark. Your little daughter will perish. You are in an open chair, and the tempest is increasing.”

That’s when Peter Rugg hit him with the quote from the beginning, whipped his horse, and sped off into the night. He would be both never seen again and a regular sight on the road to Boston from then on.

Now, none of this is to say that Peter Rugg was a bad human. In fact, by all accounts, he was a pretty nice guy. He was warm and caring to his friends and family, as well as sober, which automatically made you a good person in the 18th century for some reason. He just happened to have a temper and it didn’t take much to set him off. I mean, if you get that pissed off at a rain storm, then it’s probably time to take up mediation or yoga or some damn thing.

So, the story goes that Peter Rugg and his daughter never made it back home to Boston. Days missing turned into weeks and then turned into months. The pair was given up for dead, but Peter and his tempest were never gone nor forgotten.

It was a full 50 years later when a man named Jonathan Dunwell, from New York, wrote to his friend Herman Krauff about his last trip to Boston in 1820. He was making his way to the city by way of Providence, Rhode Island and had quite the tale to tell about it. He was sitting next to the driver of his carriage and ten miles out into the middle of nowhere when… Well, I’ll just let him tell it:

“Presently a man with a child beside him, with a large black horse, and a weather−beaten chair, once built for a chaise−body, passed in great haste, apparently at the rate of twelve miles an hour. He seemed to grasp the reins of his horse with firmness, and appeared to anticipate his speed. He seemed dejected, and looked anxiously at the passengers particularly at the stage−driver and myself. ‘Who is that man?’ said I. ‘He seems in great trouble.’ ’Nobody knows who he is, but his person and the child are familiar to me. I have met him more than a hundred times, and have been so often asked the way to Boston by that man, even when he was travelling directly from that town, that of late I have refused any communication with him; and that is the reason he gave me such a fixed look. I have never known him to stop anywhere longer than to inquire the way to Boston; and let him be where he may, he will tell you he cannot stay a moment, for he must reach Boston that night.’”

And so it went for many years. Travelers as far and wide as Connecticut and New York State would be set upon by the phantom Rugg and his horse. The storm always followed him and his haste is never satisfied. It didn’t help that he’d always choose to disbelieve any directions that a traveler might give him. Just take this exchange between him and another man who shared his story with Jonathan after Peter Rugg asked him the way home:

“’It has just rained a heavy shower up the river. But I shall not reach Boston tonight if I tarry. Would you advise me to take the old road or the turnpike’? ‘Why, the old road is one hundred and seventeen miles, and the turnpike is ninety−seven.’ ‘How can you say so? You impose on me; it is wrong to trifle with a traveler; you know it is but forty miles from Newburyport to Boston.’ ‘But this is not Newburyport; this is Hartford.’ ‘Do not deceive me, sir. Is not this town Newburyport, and the river that I have been following the Merrimack?’ ‘No, sir; this is Hartford, and the river, the Connecticut.’”

No matter which direction someone tried to send him in, Peter Rugg would go off the opposite way. The entire world changed around him and he was soon riding over bridges that used to be ferries back in his time. Streets were built and demolished and the world moved on while Rugg held onto his rage.

Every journey needs an ending, though, and Peter Rugg, his daughter Jenny, and their horse did finally make their way back home. It just happened to be right as the empty lot, where his house once stood, was being sold at auction.

With all of his neighbors long gone and his neighborhood nothing but a distant reminder of what it used to be, Peter demanded an explanation from the auctioneer. Clearly, the man had demolished his house and now meant to sell it in Peter’s absence!

The people surrounding him were reminiscent of his friends and neighbors, but not quite them. It was then that someone spoke from crowd and informed Mr. Rugg of his decades long journey:

“’There is nothing strange here but yourself, Mr. Rugg. Time, which destroys and renews all things, has dilapidated your house, and placed us here. You have suffered many years under an illusion. The tempest which you profanely defied at Menotomy has at length subsided; but you will never see home, for your house and wife and neighbors have all disappeared. Your estate, indeed, remains, but no home. You were cut off from the last age, and you can never be fitted to the present. Your home is gone, and you can never have another home in this world.’”

To this day, people driving down long, empty stretches of road should always be on the lookout for Peter Rugg and his phantom horse. He’s still in search of his home and the storm always follows with him. Many drivers have been overtaken by sudden storms, only to have Mr. Rugg pull up next to them, his horse rearing, and ask for directions to Boston. No matter which way they point him, he always goes the opposite way. It’s the curse that he must eternally bear for his anger and his day of absolution may never come.

Let that be a lesson to you to always hold onto your patience when behind the wheel. Make sure to always look over your shoulder while you travel. You never know when the angry Peter Rugg will overtake you and bring the storm with him!


From 1855 to 1935, the Mississippi State Lunatic Asylum operated on land that is now the campus of the University of Mississippi. In that time period, the institution treated over 35,000 patients. In 2013, while digging into the earth for a new road and parking structure, the University of Mississippi unearthed 2,000 bodies. It stands to reason that plenty of the mental patients at the lunatic asylum would have died in their time there but, until recently, nobody knew just how many of those poor souls may have been laid to rest on the grounds. Now we know that number is closer to 7,000 patients, all of whom were buried in a massive cemetery that was lying unseen beneath the University of Mississippi’s grounds.

The university is unsure what to do with the bodies but is attempting to create a database with the names and information of those buried underneath the campus. They imagine relatives of patients who disappeared after their time at Mississippi State Lunatic Asylum will be grateful for the update. As an educational institution, the school is also treating the strange discovery as a learning experience. Students have been studying the corpses in an attempt to understand the conditions they suffered from and how they died.

This horror film scenario is a frightening discovery and sheds a gruesome light on how the mentally ill were treated throughout history.

The University of Mississippi first became aware of the bodies in 1991 during construction of new laundry facilities. While workers were installing water pipes, they found 44 coffins underground. Then, in 2013, during construction on a road and a parking structure, another 2,000 coffins were found. This was the first indication that the school was dealing with far more graves than they imagined.

The Mississippi State Lunatic Asylum was the state’s first mental institution, erected in 1855. The asylum remained in operation until 1935, when the hospital was moved to a new location. Two decades later, construction began on the University of Mississippi Medical Center in the same spot where the hospital once stood. Now that the school wants to build across its extensive grounds they find that this former cemetery extended over quite a bit of land.

The most ethical solution to the problem would be to exhume and relocate each individual body. However, this would cost a whopping $3,000 per body, costing $21 million in total. As it’s unclear where the funds would come from, the University of Mississippi is looking into cheaper alternatives that would still pay respect to the dead.

The school has proposed exhuming the bodies but keeping them on campus. The university would store the patients’ remains in a memorial center along with information about the history of the mental asylum and acknowledgement of the poor treatment of the patients.

Penny Stiles believes her grandmother was admitted to the asylum after her husband was convicted of murder in 1901. While she was listed as dead on census records shortly after her husband’s release, Stiles believes her grandmother did not die until decades after this. She thinks she was committed to a mental institution after giving birth to her son, possibly due to post-partum depression.

Rhonda Richmond thinks her great-great-great grandmother may have been a patient at the hospital. Her grandmother used different names throughout her life and it’s unclear when and how she died. These are just two of the many people who are hoping exhuming these dead bodies at the U of M campus will provide answers.

After the Civil War, the asylum opened a segregated wing for African American patients. Records from the asylum indicate the segregated ward was subjected to overcrowding and the patients there were given worse food to eat than other patients. Discharge records from the asylum indicate a patient’s cause of death and the African American deaths were listed as respiratory illnesses and diet-based deficiencies.

The asylum was built at a time of great reform in regards to the treatment of the mentally ill. Patients, while heavily guarded, were provided with more sunlight and access to the outdoors. At the time, sun and fresh air were believed to help cure mental illness.

A number of patients who entered the asylum were believed to be beyond rehabilitation and were never released. While their situation was supposed to be above that of living in a prison or ending up homeless, their confined status would be unethical by today’s standards.

Despite its intentions to be a more humane institution for mental patients, reports still surfaced of patient mistreatment. One woman recalls driving past the asylum in the ’30s and hearing screams. Whether she did or not, her memory certainly evokes the stigma around asylums and what people thought went on in them.

In 2014, the school wanted to add a parking garage to the campus. A staggering 1,000 coffins were found underground when the project began. This led researchers to dig into death records to get an estimate of the potential number of total bodies and, eventually, they came up with 7,000.

While the number of unclaimed and unidentified bodies is truly tragic, there is one silver lining. Students have made amazing medical discoveries by studying the remains. DNA from one patient’s teeth helped students study how various diseases were treated before antibiotics. They have also researched how vitamin B deficiencies contribute to dementia.

The mortality rate in the asylum was staggering, which accounts for the number of bodies found. Most patients died within 13 months of being admitted.

Causes of death shifted over time but were often due to contagious diseases like tuberculosis or nutritional deficiencies. Relatives either did not show up to claim the bodies or were not notified of the patient’s deaths which resulted in many patients getting buried in the asylum’s cemetery.

Researchers and anthropologists responsible for studying the remains of these found bodies are hoping to put the information they’re finding online. Ideally, they want to upload patient records onto the Internet and include details like the cause and date of death. While they will likely be unable to identify every body, the hospital’s old records provide names of many of the asylum patients who were buried in the cemetery. This may help bring long awaited answers to those searching for missing pieces in their family trees.


When Weird Darkness returns…

When it comes to cryptids, you have many to choose from – Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, the chupacabra, the list goes on and on. But I’m willing to bet nowhere on the list of your favorite cryptids, or even the cryptids you’ve ever heard of, do you have an entry for “The Belled Buzzard” of Texas.

But first… dealing with a ghost or two is awful enough – but what if you’re attacked by a whole gang of ghouls? It was reported as real news in 1889’s Chicago Tribune! That story is up next!



It’s tough enough having one ghost as an uninvited houseguest. When a whole crowd of them shows up at once, then things really go to heck. The “Chicago Tribune,” July 18, 1889:

Headline: A Whole Gang O’ Ghosts!

Subtitle: The Blood-Curdling Antics Of Disembodied Visitors

And now the article:

The troubles of Northern Chicago appear to be endless. Having been afflicted with bacilli in its drinking water, Boldenweck in its Executive Chair, a world renowned tragedy in its Carlson cottage, the climax has been reached at last. The latest addition to the chamber of horrors is a weird, horrible, and blood curdling gang of ghosts which has sprung out of the relics of the departed City of Lake View to torment its erstwhile citizens.
The spirit visitors at present rule the residence district from Lincoln avenue towards the lake, along Belden and Fullerton avenues.
Dr. W. C. Rowe lives at No. 334 Belden avenue. The doctor is a deacon in the Congregational Church at Seminary and Lill avenues, 4 Lake View. Dr. Rowe used to live at No. 1 1305 Wrightwood avenue in Lake View. He was afraid, however, that the residents of that suburb might decide not to be annexed, and therefore took time by the forelock about three months ago and moved into Chicago. Now he wishes he had staid in Lake View. In all probability there will be an exodus of the Rowe family from No. 394 Belden avenue at an early date.
Dr. Rowe, being a deacon and a reputable physician, as presumably a man of truth. His account of the things that have been going on in his house o’ nights is, it must be admitted, out of the usual run, but his statements are corroborated by the members of his family and his neighbors.
The truth of the matter is that the Rowe household is the abiding place of a gang of ghosts. They are not ordinary ghosts. They cannot be seen. They do not softly and silently glide all in white. On the contrary, they yell, and fight, and fire pistols, and fall downstairs, and do all sorts of mysterious, not to say diabolical, things.
When Dr. Rowe first removed to Belden avenue he got all his furniture moved into the house in the daytime and by hard work had things pretty well arranged by nightfall. When bedtime came he went to sleep with his wife and baby in the front bedroom on the second floor. There is a narrow hallway on the floor, running from the top of the front stairs to the top of the back stairs, and two bedrooms besides the front one open upon it. In one of these bedrooms Belle, the 15-year-old daughter, went to sleep, and in the other the two boys, 10 and 12 years old, retired. The first floor was occupied by the housekeeper and Dr. Rowe’s 3-year old boy.
Everybody was sound asleep at midnight, when suddenly there was a tremendous noise in the front hall. It was so loud that Dr. Rowe and his wife, Belle, and the housekeeper were awakened. The noise grew gradually louder and louder, then dwindled away into silence. Everything was still for a minute, then there were more noises, as if some men were in the hallway and stamping up the front stairs to the second floor. Suddenly the sharp report of a pistol rang out so loud that the rest of the members of the family were aroused.
Dr. Rowe struck a match and lighted a lamp, and with it in his hand walked out into the hallway where he could see down the front stairs to the door. While he stood there the housekeeper came up through the back stairs with another light. They went through all the rooms, even to the basement, kitchen. and the dining-room, but found no one and nothing that could have caused the noises. The doors were all closed and locked, and even the windows were found to be fastened. Nothing had been disturbed in the front hallway.
As soon as the house was again still and the lights out there were more noises. Sounds were heard on the back stairs by the housekeeper, as if men were running up and down. Then there was the noise of a struggle in the front hallway. and a heavy body fell down the stairs and against the front door. Dr. Rowe again hurried out of his bedroom, this time without a light, but as before found nobody or nothing.
The third night the members of the family planned to entrap the practical joker, if there were one. Dr. Rowe concealed himself in the parlor as soon as the lights were out. Mrs. Rowe waited in the front bedroom up-stairs and the housekeeper in her room on the first floor.
Shortly after midnight there was a great rushing and banging in the upper hallway, as if two men were grappling in a death struggle. There was the loud report of a pistol and the sound of a heavy body falling down the stairs. Simultaneously Dr. Rowe, his wife, and the housekeeper lighted lamps and hurried from their hiding places. They went upstairs and, as before, found everything undisturbed in all the rooms.
At first Dr. Rowe and his wife were disposed to laugh at the idea that there was anything supernatural in the noises, but are now thoroughly alarmed. The noises have been repeated with variations every night. Dr. Rowe has heard noises such as would be made by a man walking through the hallway, and shaking each door as he came to it. He has heard noises such as would be made by lighting parlor matches, and has heard the chairs in the parlor move about.
The family did not tell anyone about the visitations for nearly a month, because Dr. Rowe was unwilling to have anyone think he was in the least superstitious. But Mrs. Rowe told the neighbors, and has invited a number of persons to stay overnight in the house. Everyone who has done so has heard the noises, been mystified, not to say frightened, and investigated without result.
Sleep is impossible for any member of the family, and Dr. Rowe, although he still refuses to believe in the ghost theory, has decided to move.
Since the fact that the house was haunted was first told to the neighbors there has been a good deal of excitement about it. Other houses are said to be haunted, and a lawyer who lives a block away declares that he was stopped on the street by a ghost as he was walking from Clark street home last Saturday night. A Lake View policeman, who patrols along Fullerton avenue, says that the same night he saw a white object flit across a vacant lot and disappear over a housetop as if flying.


[The following was posted at the Texas Cryptid Hunter website.]

Many years ago I was out checking on some game cameras in Central Texas. I had placed my cameras along the Lampasas River below the Stillhouse Hollow Dam. My cameras never captured anything unusual while in this location, but I did experience something a bit odd one day while servicing them. I was changing out batteries on one of the cameras when I thought I heard the tinkling of a bell. It was a sound akin to that made by a small, round “sleigh bell.” I turned to look around, but saw nothing. I started to get on with the task at hand when I heard the bell again. This time, the sound seemed to emanate from somewhere above me. I looked up into the trees but saw only a few black vultures (Coragyps atratus) lingering about. The whole thing was a bit odd, but – and you know this if you have followed the Texas Cryptid Hunter blog for any length of time – I have had much stranger experiences while out in the woods; so I just finished the chore of refreshing my trail camera. I did not hear the sound again that day, or on any of my subsequent trips to the location, and thought so little of it I did not mention it in the blog post I made later regarding the photos I had captured on that particular set. I had not thought about that day in years, but a recent discovery brought it all back and made me wonder about what I might have heard that day.

Recently, I was thumbing through a book called “Unexplained!” by Jerome Clark at the Temple Public Library. I was flipping through the usual chapters on the UFOs, sasquatches, yetis, and Loch Ness monsters of the world when my eyes fell upon an entry titled “Belled Buzzard.” Never having heard of such a thing, I began reading. Imagine my surprise to find out that many odd stories have been published over the years – most between 1860 and 1950 – about a “belled buzzard.” Reports spanned the continent from the Dakotas to Florida, but a couple of locales popped up more than any others: Indiana and, you guessed it, Texas.

The origin of the belled buzzard legend is hazy at best. The earliest sightings seem to have occurred in 1869 in Tennessee. These encounters were documented in the Memphis Appeal in the early summer months of that year and the stories were picked up and reprinted by other newspapers across the country. The term belled buzzard is not used in the articles, but related were the tales of two separate accounts where multiple people spotted a buzzard (a colloquial term for a vulture) with a small bell around its neck. The sightings took place on a farm near Burnsville and witnesses described the bird seen as seeming “more than usually wild.”

Following are snippets of the earliest Texas accounts I could locate:

* Pilot Point, April 25, 1893. “The belled buzzard was seen…by Mrs. Keys and family on their farm near town and as usual it was not accompanied by any of its kind” (Dallas Morning News, April 30)

* Erath County, March 18, 1894. “Col. J. L. Hansel…always doubted reports concerning the famous ‘belled buzzard.’ He did not believe until yesterday afternoon that such a buzzard existed. He was out in his yard when above him he heard a bell ringing. Looking up he saw a buzzard with a bell hanging on its neck” (Dallas Morning News, March 20).

* Nunn, early June, 1894. “M. K. Ownsly and Will James caught a belled buzzard… The bell was branded ‘J’ and was attached to the buzzard’s neck by a leather collar” (Dallas Morning News, June 15)

* Longview, June 27, 1894. “A buzzard wearing a sheep bell was seen by several citizens yesterday morning. The belled buzzard has been seen at numerous places in this state…Mr. O. H. Methvin and his son, over whose corn field he circled several times, thought it was a belled sheep or calf in their corn and tried some time to find it” (Dallas Morning News, June 29).

* Chatfield, April 3, 1898. “’The belled buzzard’ has been captured. It was caught…last Sunday. The bell consisted of an oyster can securely tied about the bird’s neck with a ten-penny nail as the bell clapper. It was trapped on the farm of Mr. T. B. Roberts, liberated from the burden, which had cut into the flesh, and the bird turned loose. The can is on exhibition at Shook’s drug store” (Dallas Morning News, April 10, quoting the Corsicana Chronicle, Texas).

* Woodbury, October 29, 1900. “J. C. Goldfrey…informed The News correspondent that the celebrated belled buzzard spent the day on his farm yesterday. He saw it several times and distinctly heard the bell which he described as having a tin sound” (Dallas Morning News, October 31).

* Falfurrias, early February, 1931. “A belled buzzard may be seen daily in the Flowella section…Mrs. J. F. Dawson and her son, Jimmie, were working in the yard…when suddenly they heard the tinkle of a small bell, seemingly out of the blue sky. After straining their eyes in every direction for a short time, they discovered  his buzzardship lazily floating along, while with each flap of his wings the little bell tinkled” (San Antonio Express, February 15).

Just where did this belled bird or birds – for surely it had to have been more than one vulture responsible for the plethora of sightings – come from? One of the origin stories that seems the most credible came from physician C. A. Tindall of Shelbyville, Indiana. While being interviewed by an International News Service Reporter in March of 1930, the good doctor – after discussing a recent sighting – said, “It calls to mind an incident that occurred about 1879 or 1880 on the old home farm four miles out of Shelbyville.” Dr. Tindall goes on to say that he and his brothers discovered a buzzard’s nest on the family property and were able to catch a hen guarding her eggs. “We put a sheep bell with a leather strap around the body of the buzzard,” he said. “In front of one wing and behind the other. As the buzzard soared away the bell tinkled.”

The other story of the how the belled buzzard got its start caught my eye as it originates from Belton, Texas. (I teach school in the Belton ISD.) In a 1968 interview with the Belton Journal, eighty-year-old Irma Sanford Eddleman was coerced by her daughter to tell a unique story from her childhood. One day (the specific year is not mentioned), a young Irma and her little brother noticed several vultures circling the carcass of a recently deceased chicken that had been disposed of behind their house. “My little brother and I decided to catch one,” Irma said. “I did. It jerked me almost two feet off the ground, trying to get away, and how it stank. But I held on, and sent my brother into the barn to get a length of wire that had a bell on it. We wrapped the wire around that bird’s neck, and let it go. My father worried for days about a bell ringing up in the air; he could hear it in the early morning up in the sky. My brother and I did not say a word.” Ms. Eddleman went on to express regret for the prank. “I’m not at all proud of that,” she said. “It was the unthinking act of a child, and not a kind one.”

While the origin story of the belled buzzard may be hazy, what can be said for sure is that for the better part of four decades sightings of the unfortunate vulture were reported in newspapers on a semi-regular basis. After that, newspaper stories regarding the famous belled buzzard became increasingly rare, though they never went away completely.

As might be expected, the belled buzzard achieved something akin to mythical status among rural Americans living through the heyday of sightings. To some, the appearance of this belled vulture was a harbinger of misfortune or even death. In other places, however, the sighting of the belled buzzard was anything but a bad omen. To some, the appearance of the famous bird over a rural homestead was “regarded as an infallible sign that there was to be an addition to the family. Mothers instead of telling their children of the stork’s visit informed them that the belled buzzard was the bearer of the little one” (Philadelphia Record, 1908). The legend became so well-known that a story, written by Irvin S. Cobb, about it was published in the Saturday Evening Post in 1912.

Like today, skeptics abounded during the belled buzzard craze. Witnesses were often ridiculed and public questioning regarding their state of mental health and drinking habits were standard. The possible existence of such a bird was deemed too ridiculous to take seriously and, therefore, had to be figments of fevered/drunken imaginations or outright fabrications. Clark writes in his book, “In 1897, when mystery airships (a late nineteenth-century equivalent to modern UFOs) were reported in various parts of the country, witnesses received the same treatment. In fact, mystery airships and belled buzzards were sometimes mentioned in the same humorous or unflattering sentences.”

As a native Texan, I can tell you that there is no tradition of belling buzzards – nor any other type of bird – here. Neither has it ever been a common practice across the American South or Midwest. I find it plausible – as the previously mentioned origin stories relate – that someone somewhere caught and attached a bell to either a black or turkey vulture at some point as a prank, inadvertently birthing a legend. No doubt, there were some copycats who duplicated the stunt. (It is the only way so many birds could have been seen across such a vast amount of the continent over so many years.) For whatever reason, sightings of belled buzzards are all but non-existent now, but in their day the existence of these mysterious vultures was as hotly debated and controversial as the possible existence of the sasquatch or UFOs are today.

As I close, my mind once again drifts back to that day along the Lampasas River a decade ago. I heard what I heard and numerous vultures were present. Is it possible the belled buzzard – who may have gotten his start in nearby Belton – had returned home after all these years? Surely, not.


Coming up…

Michael Bryson disappeared on August 5th, 2020 from Hobo Campground at Umpqua National Forest. He has yet to be found.

And… when the Black Plague arrived at Eyam’s doorstep in the 17th century, its villagers were forced to choose between life or certain doom. It’s the tragic tale of England’s Plague Village.

These stories are up next on Weird Darkness.



Michael Bryson, 27, of Eugene, Oregon, was last seen at Hobo Campground near Dorena, Oregon in the early morning hours of Wednesday, August 5, 2020, whilst partying with friends.

He was said to have wandered away from the rave party at the campground at around 4.30 am and has not been seen since. Some of his clothes turned up some months later in an area visible from the road and searched many times. But Michael remains missing.

Friends and family remain baffled, suspecting Michael was the victim of foul play. Was it misadventure, abduction or something else out there in the Oregon Wilderness?

Michael was 6’0″ tall and weighed approximately 180 pounds with short brown hair and hazel eyes. He was last seen wearing a white t-shirt, tan shorts, and white Crocs with rainbows on them and might have also been wearing a brown, corduroy baseball cap. He had several tattoos on both legs, ribs, and arms.

He stopped by his parent’s house in Harrisburg, Oregon on August 4 and told his parents, Parrish and Tina that he was riding up with a friend to a week-long birthday party/camping trip at Hobo Camp Campground.

According to Detective Richard Smith with the Lane County Sheriff’s Office, Michael wandered away in an unknown direction and he had left his camping gear behind, his phone was powered off and he hasn’t accessed his bank account since.

Hobo Camp is a small roadside campground located in the Umpqua National Forest. It is described as “primitive”, which is okay for a night or two, but not somewhere you would want to camp longer term. There is a path leading to a large creek.

The last pictures of Michael were taken at at the “rave” party in the woods, with 40 to 60 people, music, drinking and drugs. Witnesses say Michael was last seen in a bus on the campsite before he walked away.

His mother said, “He got upset and walked off the bus and nobody has seen him.”

Michael’s parents weren’t alerted to their son’s disappearance until 5 pm on August 6. They immediately drove to the area where Lane County Sheriff’s Office Search and Rescue had already deployed search teams to search by land and by water.

Tina said, “By the time we found out it was almost 12 hours since he had been missing. The moment I put my foot out of the car. I knew Michael was gone. People weren’t looking for Michael. They were sitting around, drinking, eating, laughing – nobody was out searching for him, so I felt in my gut something had happened.”

Parrish said, “There’s been a lot of conflicting stories from the beginning. One story is that he walked away from camp. The other story is that a group of individuals picked him up on the road.”

Hundreds of volunteers showed up to search miles of wilderness in the area. SAR teams on foot, on horseback, combed the area, and drones were deployed to scan from the air. For 19 days straight, the steep terrain with overgrowth and dense with trees was searched. But there was no trace of Michael.

The Lane County Sheriff’s Office had coordinated over 15 separate searches spanning two counties and paid and volunteer searchers logged over 700 hours.

Detective Smith said the case was an ongoing, active investigation.

Parrish Bryson said they never got a straight answer from the partygoers about Michael and added that he believes they knew more than they were letting on, “The stories given by some of the people at the party are inconsistent. And most of those people left the day Michael went missing, and continued to hold raves and parties.”

He added that while many people left the campgrounds, there were a few friends and several strangers who dedicated their time and energy to the search, “We stayed at the campgrounds for 19 days looking for our son, And we’re truly grateful for those who stayed and helped.”

Parrish said his son had just been getting his life back together after a drugs problem. Before COVID-19, Michael had been working at a local bar and grill and he told his parents he was interested in studying to become an electrician. But for years, his passion was music and he was often invited to DJ sets at parties and raves across the state.

Some 6 weeks after the disappearance, Michael’s parents said they wanted to believe their son was still alive, but they feared the worst. Parrish said. “And he would never just leave. Even in his toughest times, he would always contact us. The idea that he would just disappear is unheard of.”

Tina and Parrish Bryson searched the area where Michael vanished three to four times a week, investigating tips and making sure flyers were up on trailheads, bulletin boards, and at the campsite. Michael’s father said, “He did not just disappear into thin air”.

Then on December 11, 2020, a breakthrough. Parrish Bryson got a call from a person who saw something on Brice Creek Road, a mile west of Hobo Camp between Cedar Creek Campground and Lund Park Campground.

Lane County Sheriff’s Office and Search and Rescue teams were notified and when they arrived, they found some of the items Michael was last seen wearing. They were found in an area that had been searched several times, near a swimming hole and visible from the road.

Parrish said, “The blue ribbon right there is where two of the items were found. And the blue and orange ribbon is where the other items were found. I’m 99.9% sure that these items were planted. My gut tells me that they were probably placed there because I know the intensity of some of the individuals that went down through there. It’s really hard for me to believe that they were there the whole time.”

Teams continued to search for a few days after the discovery but did not find any more clues.

What happened to Michael Bryson?

Did Michael simply wander from camp under the influence of alcohol and possibly drugs and get lost in the wilderness?

Was he snatched and was foul play involved?

If you know anything that could help solve Michael Bryson’s disappearance, or if you were at the Hobo Campground around August 3rd, 4th, or 5th of 2020, please reach out to the sheriff’s office at (541) 682-4150, option 1, and reference case No. 20-5286. I’ll give you that information again at the end of the episode, and I will include it in the show notes.


Contracting the plague in 17th century England was a death sentence. While we now know that flea-bitten rats spread the sickness to humans, those living through the epidemic possessed no such knowledge. Many feared the Black Death was the wrath of God, leading sufferers to treat symptoms with curious methods, like fastening a toad to swollen bubo lumps in hopes of removing the poison.

London was hit especially hard in its Great Plague outbreak of 1665. Yet one quiet English village due north of the city stands out for its voluntary isolation after infection struck—even though the decision spelled certain doom for the community.

In the fall of 1665, as the plague raged through London, a package of cloth was sent from the capital to Alexander Hadfield, a tailor who lived in Eyam, Derbyshire. Hadfield wasn’t home, so his apprentice George Viccars received the parcel. Realizing the materials were damp, he hung them to dry by the fire.

Soon after, Viccars fell ill, becoming the first in Eyam to be struck by the plague.

The apprentice died within a week. Members of the household soon followed suit. As more neighbors fell ill throughout the fall, the village of Eyam realized the plague had arrived.

Wealthy townsfolk and those not tied to their land fled. Some stayed in the area, constructing makeshift homes in nearby caves. The illness receded in the winter months, but as the weather warmed in the spring of 1666, the number of infected rose—leading those who were able to flee Eyam entirely, often taking the sickness with them.

One man who vowed to stay was Rector William Mompesson and his wife Catherine (their children were sent to Yorkshire). Though the Black Death was all around him, the rector stood fast, determined to combat its spread.

Rector Mompesson sought the help of another man, Thomas Stanley, a Puritan and former rector who still had considerable religious favor. The two had different religious views—a big deal in those days. Yet together they agreed to take charge.

The pair presented a bold plan of forced quarantine to what remained of the village. They asked everyone to subscribe the following rules:

* Do not bury the dead in the church graveyard. Instead, bury your deceased on your own land.
* The church will be closed until further notice. Services will take place outside at Cucklett Delph and families should keep 12 feet distance from one another.
* Eyam will remain isolated and no one is to leave or enter until the plague is eradicated.

Parishioners understood the deadly stakes of the self-imposed quarantine. Doubly troubling was that according to their faith, the dead had to be buried on holy ground so that they could rise on Judgment Day and enter heaven. Miraculously, despite such physical and spiritual anxieties, they came together. The quarantine of Eyam commenced.

Life was difficult, but nearby villages pitched in with goods. The Earl of Devonshire paid for medical supplies and food. These were delivered at set drop off points outside of Eyam. Plague Stones provided demarcations that outsiders knew not to cross.

Coins were left in the waters of Monday Brook, so named for the day the town of Bakewell dropped off their goods. Vinegar was also used as a disinfectant, with grooves drilled into boundary stones and filled with the substance as a kind of decontamination station.

Unsurprisingly, the Black Death decimated Eyam during the quarantine. A reported 76 families were infected, with some experiencing huge losses that nearly eradicated their entire lineage. Catherine, the rector’s wife, succumbed to the illness. Mrs. Hancock, once belonging to a family of eight, dug the graves of her husband and six children within one week.

Such heartbreaking tales stretched beyond the walls of Eyam. Rowland Torre reportedly lived in nearby Stoney Middleton and had been meeting Emmott Sydall of Eyam in secret each day to gaze at each other from afar, never touching. Then, in April, Emmott stopped coming. Rowland continued to wait for her each day, month after month, and finally entered town when the plague was over. To his dismay, the Sydall family had perished.

In total, at least 260 people died in Eyam over the course of 14 months. Alternate calculations set the death toll at 370. Those who survived saw the end of the plague and a lifting of the quarantine in Christmas 1666. Survivors burned everything but the clothes on their backs to ensure no further contamination.

Today, Eyam in Derbyshire is known as England’s Plague Village. Visitors come from far and wide, attracted by the tale of the Eyam villagers who sacrificed their lives so that others might live. On the last Sunday of August, locals commemorate those brave souls with a celebration, known as Plague Sunday.


Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do! And please leave a rating and review of the show in the podcast app you listen from – doing so helps the show to get noticed! You can also email me anytime with your questions or comments through the website at WeirdDarkness.com. That’s also where you can find all of my social media, listen to free audiobooks, shop the Weird Darkness store, sign up for the newsletter to win monthly prizes, find my other podcast “Church of the Undead”, and more. Plus if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, you can click on TELL YOUR STORY – or call the DARKLINE toll free at 1-877-277-5944. That’s 1-877-277-5944.

All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true (unless stated otherwise) and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes.

“The Real Michael Myers” from Casper McFadden at TheMorbidLibrary.com and from TheScareChamber.com

“The Eternal Ride of Peter Rugg” posted at SlightlyOddFitchburg.com

“The Corpses Under The University of Mississippi” by Erin Wisti for Ranker.com’s “Graveyard Shift”

“A Whole Gang O’ Ghosts” posted from Strange Company

“The Belled Buzzard Legend” from Texas Cryptid Hunter

“The Black Plague Comes to Eyam” by Stephanie Almazan for TheLineUp.com

“The Disappearance of Michael Bryson” posted at Strange Outdoors. If you know anything that could help solve Michael Bryson’s disappearance, or if you were at the Hobo Campground around August 3rd, 4th, or 5th of 2020, please reach out to the sheriff’s office at (541) 682-4150, option 1, and reference case No. 20-5286. I also have that information in the show notes.

Again, you can find link to all of these stories in the show notes.

WeirdDarkness™ – is a production and trademark of Marlar House Productions. Copyright, Weird Darkness.

Now that we’re coming out of the dark, I’ll leave you with a little light… “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

And a final thought… “Between two evils, choose neither; between two goods, choose both.” — Tryon Edwards

I’m Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.




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