Scientific Minds Paranormal Investigators
I watched a farm disappear before my eyes.
In a search to find answers to the hauntings I’d experienced on the Eastside of Indianapolis, I had taken to researching the history of the land just to the north of my home.
To that end, I had been comparing a series of aerial photographs from 1942 to present, when it hit me:
“That farm just disappeared!”
My ex father-in-law, Clayton Hooker, was somewhat of an imposing man, very outspoken, but very down to earth.
Clayton was from Kentucky…not white fenced, rolling hills, horse farm Kentucky, mind you. Clayton was from Harlan County, Kentucky…backwoods, coal mining, “you’ll never leave Harlan alive” Kentucky.
He died in his sleep one afternoon, alone on his couch. I knew he’d been sick, but no one knew he’d been that sick. It was such a shock. It just didn’t feel like his time.
I remember the day we laid him to rest back home in Harlan. I sat behind his grieving daughters, and I could hear him speaking in my head. I wondered if it was because he always seemed to be speaking when I was around him, but then my brother-in-law leaned over and said, “Man! It’s strange! I can hear him speaking.”
That should have been a clue that he hadn’t really left us yet.
I’ve posted a number of stories detailing my life in a haunted house on the east side of Indianapolis, Indiana.
It’s hard to convey the creepiness of some of the strange episodes. I’ve tried to recall some of the scariest incidents, and it seems like people might not be able to appreciate how terrifying some of them actually were.
I did not believe I would find answers so quickly to some of the mysteries regarding the strange symbols on the old schoolhouse and the alien visitor (especially the alien visitor), but I am thankful for the diversity of my friends and their amazing knowledge and of course to FaceBook for facilitating these conversations. (See parts one, two, and three to read the story.)
I will not go into detail about what I have learned, because I want to investigate more before going deeper into the story, and I believe it’s part of a bigger story that I hope to tell in my upcoming posts.
I will say that I was shocked to think that I encountered a being so ancient and that my description matched so closely that my wife’s friend Valerie knew instantly who I was describing.
(This is the third part of a three-part series. Be sure to checkout part one and part two.)
I remember one summer night very clearly. In the very early hours of the morning, a policeman parked his vehicle 60 feet away from my bedroom and diverted traffic onto my street to turn around.
The cursed corridor was closed that night.
It’s hard to sleep with red and blue flashing lights piercing through the mini blinds. I watched and wondered what had happened.