Click to watch the video here.
Ken and Deb were renovating their cottage in Dodleston, England. It was 1984 and while the couple are going through all the items in the home that need to be done. Pepsi bottles, food boxes, and cans intricately devised and stacked up. It was like walking into a game of jenga that had been played in their kitchen all night.
They were a normal couple, Ken was a teacher and this type of activity was starting to freak them out. Please join me and watch my video about a couple that start to receive time traveling messages through their old BBC computer.
Click on the picture to go to the video version on YouTube.
I grew up in the forested eastern area of North Carolina called Wilkesboro. It's the kind of place where you can drive through miles of windy mountain roads and never see one streetlight. It was 1998 and my sister was in her booster seat sleeping in the back of this ugly green minivan we used to have. She was about 4 and I was 11 at the time. My mom was driving and we were coming back from a nearby town about 20 minutes away. IT had gotten dark and I had been this way many times
before. The only thing before our house were thick woods, and a few back roads with houses. There weren't any stoplights and very few streetlights until the main road.
It was fall and I remember the glass of the car window was cold. I'd sit there listening to the radio just staring outside at the dark tree tops whizzing past. My mom and I would chat about whatever came up and listen to the radio. A bright flashing colorful lights started to flicker in the rear view mirror and the interior of our van light up with color. My mom and I said nothing to each other, but at the time I thought we were being pulled over.
It's the part that bothers me the most and as much as I try I can't wrap my brain around what happened. Ahead was a turn off into a back road. My mom turned pulling into the patch of dirt next to the pavement
Everything in front of me had changed.
Where had the back road gone?
The lights from the van shined onto the main road where we just came from.
Out of the corner of my eye, outside the window...
I thought I could just make out a dark shape in my peripheral outside the car.
My mom was silent.
Sitting in the car I could feel there was a figure next to me outside the window. There were no words or sounds. It just stood there, and ... I didn't look at it.
Then it left.
My mom slowly pulled to the right side of the road. crossing the opposite lane.
"What did the cop want?" She said nothing.
She had her hands on 10 and 2 starring at the road. I thought maybe she hadn't heard me.
"The cops, what did they want? "
My mom is always such a chatty person but in a dull uninterested manner she just said ..."what?"
We paused for a short time at the stop sign. It felt a bit longer than usual seeing as there were no cars in either direction. My window was still down and as I felt the cold air on my skin more up as we picked up our speed. Pushing the button I rolled up the glass. It took me a few minutes of constant similar phrasings of the question before I understood that she didn't even know what I was talking about.
According to her there were no cops. And thinking about it now, I never did see a police car or a cop, but there was such a strong suggestion in my mind that we were being pulled over in the beginning. My mind raced for explanations. Okay, there was no cop, I conceded to my mom for the sake of answers. I
asked her "Then why did we pull off the road? Again, my mom had no idea what I was talking about. This had just happened not a minute ago and I could still feel the chill from the window being down, which it wouldn't have been since it was so cold that day. But what about the stop sign? There were no stop signs before town on that road and we still had a ways to go driving in the darkness. I was so upset and
confused now she started saying there was no stop sign....
But that's when the conversation had started, rolling up that window at the stop sign. I could accept
there wasn't a cop but I knew we had pulled over and then somehow ended up turned around and pulling up to that side road off of our original route.
My mom was unusually quite the rest of the way home and it seemed every time I tried to speak with her I was met with a short monotone voice. My sister was still asleep.
Starring out the window I was angry and confused with the gears in my head trying to figure out some logic to the whole thing.
After getting into town my mom seemed to return to normal and I asked about the whole thing one more time. She didn't seem to remember me even asking about it and looked at me like I was going nuts. I never brought it up to her again.
But what are the parts of the encounter I don't remember. Whatever happened between pulling off with lights behind our van and the van all of a sudden facing the opposite direction. I would have chocked it all up to being a dream if I didn't know for a fact I was trying to talk with my mom while I rolled up the window cause it was cold as hell outside.
Please be careful driving in the middle of nowhere guys I wish you safe travels every time you embark onto those dark roads.
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This is the story about the disappearing village near Angikuni Lake. When Joe Labelle, a fur trapper stumbled on an eerie site in 1930. This creepy story has a mysterious history and we will never know what happened to those lost souls.
ess of Canada's arctic - is a place where only the tough survive, especially in the 1930's.
Joe Labelle, a fur trapper had to be quick. Fur trappers are known for their resourcefulness and resilience like all who thrive in the arctic circle.
Joe had made friends with an Inuit group near Lake Angikuni. He had frequently visited the people and decided to make another trip.
As Joe pushed his canoe securely on shore he could see the village 100 yards in the distance. Their caribou tents no doubt a relieving scene among the miles of tundra. But something changed in the trapper as he got closer to the village. Instead of a crackling fire and voices he was met with silence.
Walking through the site, pulse racing he could see something wasn't right. Finally some relief, two dogs trotted up to welcome him, but that relief soon vanished as he could now see the dogs looked more like walking skeletons... and still he heard nothing from the village.
Moving past this new horrifying development he slowly made his way toward the six tents still erect around the camp. Expecting perhaps the dead bodies of his friends he pulled back the flap of one the tents.
What Labelle found however was worse. There wasn't any dead bodies inside struck from disease, o r attack all of the personal belongings one would never want to leave behind. Deer parkas or skin coats, boots, pots, and a rusty rifle indicating the age of the abandonment.
Tearing back the flaps of even more tents the scene became even more ominous. A sewing needle through a piece of material, ready to be finished, and again another rifle.
The Inuit do not bury their dead, the ground is too hard, but wrap them in skin or material and stack heavy stones atop the dead to ward off predators. Which is why the grave site Joe stumbled upon was so strange. The stones had been moved and the body was gone. No wreckage from a scavenger was present.
Labelle fished a bit for the two starving dogs at his side and made his way to a telegraph office, sending word to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
As the mounties made the journey a visit with a neighboring family, the Laurent family proved to provide an insight into any suspicious activity in the region. The trapper family revealed an unusual illuminated object was seen flying across the sky and it had transformed into a cylinder like shape.
As the mounties covered the area, everything Labelle had stated proved true, but the mounties would uncover even more disturbing evidence something in the area was wrong. The open graves were seen and reports indicated stones were stacked vs strewn about, Scavengers do not stack stones.
The nomadic Inuit people lived near the area followed the caribou. Living in tents during the summer and igloos during the winter. Though the climate was harsh these groups have been living in these northern regions for more than 5000 years.
Joe continued his search for clues on what happened to the people that befriended him. Visiting several groups before the season changed they all gave the same insight. Tornasuk was to blame for this tragedy.
Joe states in the article the people have described Tornrark as an ugly man with tusks pertruding from he nose. From his perspective and those of early missionaries Tornarsuk was viewed as the Christian devil.
The ethnocentrism of the white man's view should be noted and while we are not prevy to the depths of the Inuit beliefs, a step toward a true representation would be to note the Inuit people not only described this spirit as powerful but a helping spirit that could be called on in an oracle like manner and a mediator between gods and men. With an image of a bear or sky god who ruled over the seals and whales.
RCMP reports of the past have stated the story was fabricated author Frank Edwards in 1958.book stranger than fiction. and that a village with "such a large population would not have existed in such a remote region. "
Statements from the RCMP that continue to change state the entire story was Aha regardless of belief we know the newspaper The Bee did publish this story on Nov 27 1930 and that previous statements of the RCMP did admit to such a case occurring though nothing could be concluded.
In 1976 an article in Fate Magazine by Dwight Whalens confirmed that mounties did investigate the case again in January of 1931 and admit to discovering the uninhabited settlement, but dismissed the abandonment and closed the case.
And as far as groups living in such a remote region, that's just not true. Aside from a broad and rich nomadic history across the area for the Inuit people, groups have survived around until the 1950's when groups around a close by Ennudai lake were forced to relocate by the Otowa government because fur trappers had desamated the caribou population leaving the group to suffer from starvation.
Based on Joe Labelle's recollection and early reports of the deserted village what happened?
Mysterious Universe's article points out a few theories to maul over including alien abduction based on the Laurent family testimony, a demon attack using Labelle's inquiry with other groups in the area, and simply vanishing due to a dimensional shift that swept them away without a trace.
Maybe a more sinister explanation caused by humans or an unnamed group which is a much scarier thought.
Whatever you believe paranormal or otherwise. I hope wherever you are now is full of laughter from friends and family, warm and safe, and that you'll never come across such a silent scene as Joe Labelle did in the Northern Canadian Tundra.
I feel so ridiculously silly. On my business card I have
I arrived on time at the event to set up. 20 minutes in I was told I had set up on the wrong street!
But all was well and it didn't take long to tear down and pitch the tent on the correct street.
It was super hot but as the evening went on it became bearable and I made a few sales. More importantly I met some awesome art walkers and chatted with my new neighbor vendors.
I'm excited to keep going and find even more regular events to attend. I also got a few inquiries to place my art in some local businesses! All is well and the journey continues.
Ooo also I met a dog I got to give some much needed water to and that was awesome.
Things I learned I needed at the First Friday orientation and for my art walls last week:
This is a good start. I had a bit of difficulty on testing out the tent and putting it up solo but I realized with a stool I had enough leverage to complete it all by myself!
An extra foot really does make a difference.
My first event went well. I attended a fundraiser for Beyond Gymnastics, a friend's small business. I brought paint and some things for the kids to go nuts and paint on. I made one sale. I noticed I tended to chatter on a bit too much, probably from nerves. This weekend I'm heading to a flee market for a bit in the morning before it gets too hot and see how that goes!
What I learned:
I've looked into creating a serious YouTube channel and realized "niching" is a thing. What that means is that I have to hone in all my skills to not be the flaky piece of shit I can sometimes be. Now... please understand, I'm not so much self deprecating as being realistic with myself.
Back to niching. I love creating... anything my heart desires. Usually that's using paint and creating acrylic works, but I know myself with more time on my hands my paintings will soon turn into works with broken glass, blood and yarn. I've always been working on collecting unexplained paranormal stories and placing it in art form. I have a book holding all the notes from that weird nonsense. The idea of niching my art is mind mindbogglingly confusing.
I'll figure it out but I wonder if anyone else has weird nonsense they're interested in that maybe doesn't fit into one category.
While I'm not an expert I am a person who is passionate about my art career journey. Here's where I started on quitting my 9-5 and starting my full time art/creator path.
So I did it. I put in my two week at my job. But I think it's important for myself, not for others really to remember this is not even the beginning of the work I need to put in. I saved enough rent for 6 months. I don't expect to put myself into a position to make a living by that time, but to get into a habit of giving it my all before I need to grab that part time job to pay the bills.
I see the next 6 months to really figure out what works and doesn't work. I'll be painting hours a day along the way but I also want and need to figure out what people want. How can I provide value to everyone through these social networks while still being true to my art and creative self.
If you'd love to follow along and see me fuck up along the way I'm excited to be your sounding board on what not to do. I'm excited to start win or fail.