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The Mothman Prophecies - John A Keel

The Mothman Prophecies - John A Keel

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Published by: clasic on Feb 26, 2008
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 Mothman PropheciesByJohn A. Keel----Copyright - 1975First Printing - 1976Library of Congress Catalog Number - 74-16272Scan Version : v 1.0Format : Text with cover and table pictures.Date Scanned: Jan/12/2002Posted to (Newsgroup): alt.binaries.e-book-Salmun----Contents: About the Author1 Beelzebub Visits West Virginia2 The Creep Who Came in from the Cold 3 The Flutter of Black Wings4 Take the Train5 The Cold Who Came Down in the Ram 6 Mothman!7 The Night of the Bleeding Ear8 Procession of the Damned 9 "Wake Up Down There!"10 Purple Lights and April Foolishness11 If This Is Wednesday, It Must Be a Venusian12 Games Nonpeople Play13 Phantom Photographers14 Sideways in Time15 Misery on the Mount16 Paranoiacs Are Made, Not Born17 "Even the Bedouins Hate Their Telephone Company"18 "Something Awful Is Going to Happen..."19 "Where the Birds Gather ..."Fortean Organizations (Removed)------------------------------- About the AuthorJohn A. Keel wrote his first article on unidentified flying objects in 1945, butit was not until a visit to the Aswan Dam in Upper Egypt in 1954 that he saw hisfirst genuine flying saucer. He has written for numerous national publications,and his bylined newspaper features, syndicated by the North American Newspaper Alliance, have appeared in more than 150 major newspapers in the United Statesand abroad. His many articles on UFOs and his personal research on the subjectresulted in his being awarded a plaque as "Ufologist of the Year" at the 1967Convention of Scientific Ufologists.-------------------------------1 - Beelzebub Visits West VirginiaFingers of lightning tore holes in the black skies as an angry cloudburstdrenched the surrealistic landscape. It was 3 A.M. on a cold, wet morning inlate November 1967. and the little houses scattered along the dirt road windingthrough the hills of West Virginia were all dark. Some seemed unoccupied and in
 
the final stages of decay. Others were unpainted, neglected, forlorn. The wholesetting was like the opening scene of a Grade B horror film from the 1930s. Along the road there came a stranger in a land where strangers were rare and suspect. He walked up to the door of a crumbling farmhouse and hammered. After along moment a light blinked on somewhere in the house and a young womanappeared, drawing a cheap mail-order bathrobe tightly about her. She opened thedoor a crack and her sleep-swollen face winced with fear as she stared at theapparition on her doorstep. He was over six feet tall and dressed entirely in black. He wore a black suit, black tie, black hat, and black overcoat, withimpractical black dress shoes covered with mud. His face, barely visible in thedarkness, sported a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. The flashes of lightning behind him added an eerie effect."May I use your phone?" He asked in a deep baritone, his voice lacking thefamiliar West Virginia accent. The girl gulped silently and backed away."My husband ..." She mumbled. "Talk to my husband."She closed the door quickly and backed away into the darkness. Minutes passed.Then she returned accompanied by a rugged young man hastily buckling histrousers in place. He, too, turned pale at the sight of the stranger."We ain't got a phone here," he grunted through the crack in the door just before he slammed it. The couple retreated murmuring to themselves and the tallstranger faded into the night.Beards were a very rare sight in West Virginia in 1967. Men in formal suits and ties were even rarer in those back hills of the Ohio valley. And bearded, black-garbed strangers on foot in the rain had never been seen there before.In the days that followed the young couple told their friends about theapparition. Obviously, they concluded, he had been a fearful omen of some sort.Perhaps he had been the devil himself!Three weeks later these two people were dead, among the victims of the worsttragedy ever to strike that section of West Virginia. They were driving acrossthe Silver Bridge. which spanned the Ohio River, when it suddenly collapsed.Their friends remembered. They remembered the story of the bearded stranger inthe night. It had, indeed, been a sinister omen. One that confirmed theirreligious beliefs and superstitions. So a new legend was born. Beelzebub had  visited West Virginia on the eve of a terrible tragedy.II.Being a dedicated nonconformist is not easy these days. I grew my beard in 1966while loafing for a week op the farm of my friend, zoologist Ivan T. Sanderson.I kept it until 1968 when hair became popular and half the young men hi Americasuddenly began burying their identities in a great sea of facial hair. In those more innocent days only artists, writers, and college professors could get awaywith beards. People even seemed to expect it of us. Perhaps if crew cuts evercome back and beards disappear I will regrow my own. But today it would besprinkled with gray. Too much gray, probably. Likewise, long hair was once thesymbol of the super-intellectual, the property of concert violinists and Einstein-type mathematicians—the ultimate squares, really.I would prefer to believe that I did not look like the devil in my late beard. Icertainly had no intention of launching new legends when my car ran off the road in West Virginia that November and I plodded from house to house searching for atelephone so I could call a tow truck. I had just come up from Atlanta, Georgia,where I had delivered a speech to a local UFO club. West Virginia was almost asecond home to me in those days. I had visited the state five times,investigating a long series of very strange events, and had many friends there.One of them, Mrs. Mary Hyre, the star reporter of the Athens, Ohio, Messenger,
 
was with me that night. We had been out talking to UFO witnesses, and earlierthat evening we ourselves had watched, a very strange light in the sky. Sincethere was a heavy, low cloud layer it could not have been a star. It maneuvered over the hills, its brilliant glow very familiar to both of us for we both had seen many such lights in the Ohio valley that year. Mrs. Hyre waited in the car while I trudged through the mud and ram. We had beentrying to climb a slippery hill to a spot where we had seen many unusual thingsin the past. I found that the telephones in the houses closest to our locationwere not working, apparently knocked out by the storm. So I had to keep walkinguntil I finally found a house with a working phone. The owner refused to openhis door so we shouted back and forth. I gave him a phone number to call. Heobliged and went back to bed. I never knew what he looked like. My point, of course is that Beelzebub was not wandering along the back roads of West Virginia that night. It was just a very tired John Keel busy catching awhale of a cold. But from the view of the people who lived on that road,something very unusual had happened. They had never before been roused in the middle of the night by a tall bearded stranger in black. They knew nothing about me or the reasons for my presence so they were forced to speculate. Evenspeculation was difficult. They could only place me in the frame of referencethey knew best—the religious. Bearded men in city dress simply did not turn upon isolated back roads in the middle of the night. In fact, they didn't eventurn up on the main streets of Ohio valley towns in broad daylight! So a perfectly normal event (normal, that is, to me) was placed in an entirelydifferent context by the witnesses. The final proof of my supernatural origincame three weeks later when two of the people I had awakened were killed in the bridge tragedy. Some future investigator of the paranormal may wander into thosehills someday, talk with these people, and write a whole chapter of a learned  book on demonology repeating this piece of folklore. Other scholars will pick upand repeat his story in their books and articles. The presence of the devil in West Virginia in November 1967 will become a historical fact, backed by thetestimony of several witnesses.Those of us who somewhat sheepishly spend our time chasing dinosaurs, seaserpents, and little green men in space suits are painfully aware that thingsoften are not what they seem; that sincere eyewitnesses can—and do— grossly misinterpret what they have seen; that many extraordinary events can havedisappointingly mundane explanations. For every report I have published in myarticles and books, I have shelved maybe fifty others because they had a possible explanation, or because I detected problematical details in thewitness's story, which cast doubt on the validity of a paranormal explanation.On the other hand, I have come across many events which seemed perfectly normalin one context but which were actually most unusual when compared with similarevents. That is, some apparent coincidences cease to be coincidental when yourealize they have been repeated again and again in many parts of the world.Collect enough of these coincidences together and you have a whole tapestry ofthe paranormal. As we progress, you will see that many seemingly straightforward accounts of monster sightings and UFO landings can be explained by irritatingly complex medical and psychological theories. In some cases, the theories will seem moreunbelievable than the original events. Please bear in mind that the summaries published here are backed by years of study and experience. I am no longer particularly interested in the manifestations of the phenomenon. I am pursuingthe source of the phenomenon itself. To do this, I have objectively divorced  myself from all the popular frames of reference. I am not concerned with beliefs but with the cosmic mechanism "which has generated and perpetuated those beliefs.III.There is an old house on a tree-lined street in New York's Greenwich Villagewhich harbors a strange ghost. Hans Holzer and other ghost-chasers have included the house in their catalogs of haunted places. The phantom has been seen by

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