Location: Gibbon, NE
Hometown: Arapahoe, NE
Occupation: Newspaper photographer, reporter, columnist, adventurer, father of one.
I grew up in what I now consider a haunted house. My father passed away when I was three and as the years went by, I'm sure I felt his presence in the house. I also came to sense the presence of other, darker things.
Things that opened the closet door in my bedroom. Things that knocked consistent raps on the floor of my bedroom. Things that flipped books off of book shelves. That made the bed springs of my parents' bed squeak when my mother was sleeping on the couch.
There was the tall, dark something that put its hand on me from behind once. I remember watching one of our dogs, head on my chest; watching something move around my room that I couldn't see.
As the time came for me to graduate high school I began having dreams of hands reaching through the wall above my bed and I had to fight them off with the Bible and holy water. These dreams continued into my twenties.
Friends of mine and I began driving up on the hills north and south of Arapahoe and watching the sun set and bright pinpoints of light skitter across the sky or patrol the horizons, mostly to the west of town. My friend Tim and I also witnessed a huge, silent craft the size of a football field take 20 or so minutes to emerge from a cloud bank in the west and soar almost directly over head one night.
After reading “The Demonologist” in the spring of 1981, I became more and more interested in the weird stuff going on around the world and my local area. That interest continues to this day.
Suggested reading: The Demonologist by Gerald Daniel Brittle, The Rainbow Conspiracy by Brad and Sherry Steiger, Enter the Valley by Christopher O'Brien, Disneyland of the Gods and Operation Trojan Horse by John Keel, Mysteries of Time and Space by Brad Steiger, and The Bible by You-Know-Who.
Location: Kearney, NE
Hometown: Baker City, OR
I’ve always had a need to know and understand what’s going on around me. And to know if it’s harmful. As a child, I had a great fear of the dark. At some point I reasoned that if I became “in tune” with my surroundings, the darkness wouldn’t be a problem anymore. So I started walking around in the dark. I do it to this day, more out of habit, I think. Inside and outside; anywhere I think I’m apt to worry about “what’s out there?” Whatever was there in the light would still be there in the dark and therefore, not to be feared. For the most part.
The chance to travel really fueled my interests. I’ve had the chance to pick up and absorb information from traveling companions as well as local sources. Not necessarily scary or frightening stuff; more so the odd, off-beat and unexplained. I’ve lived the majority of my adult life in Nebraska. It’s historically littered with forgotten prairie cemeteries, deserted homesteads and settlements. Small towns and villages that started out to be something but didn’t make it. Places that once were but aren’t now. It can be a stark place, especially in the late fall/early winter.
My interests are shared with an older brother who’s “in the business” and to whom it’s much more than a pastime. I guess I’ve never been one those “the glass is half-empty or half-full” people. I think what I’m used to being thought of is realist or pragmatic. I’m not sure it truly fits, but it agrees with me more than other descriptions. An excerpt of a quote from a famous fictional literary character sums up what I seem to feel: “when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”