An Important Announcement Regarding Cyber Bullying

This is to address the recent and false accusations made by former SRI Case Manager Mr. Lon Strickler where is has stated that SRI team members have been waging a campaign to have his Phantoms & Monsters Facebook page shut down, which is totally untrue.  He has also made personal attacks against specific SRI members, including Directors Irene Allen and Mark Johnson, all of which are also completely untrue. Mr. Strickler has used false accusations in order to manipulate his followers and supporters, and has openly requested a "call to action" against SRI.

This will be our final public response to Mr. Strickler’s attempts to attack and defame SRI and its members.  For the record, no member of SRI is engaged in any campaign to shut down websites run by Mr. Strickler.  SRI has no desire to engage in conflict with Mr. Strickler or any other group or individuals for any reason.  Our mission is to help people who are experiencing paranormal issues in their lives while also bringing a greater awareness of the paranormal and other concepts to the public in general, of which we will continue to do so.

We recognize that the paranormal community is no stranger to drama with many groups and individuals having had very public conflicts over the past several years.   It’s our opinion that this type of behavior does nothing but make the paranormal community look unprofessional, and we at SRI want no part of it.  However, Mr. Strickler has continued to wage public and private attacks against SRI and its members on both his Facebook pages (where SRI members have been banned from viewing or responding to his attacks), as well as his Phantoms & Monsters and Astral Perceptions blogs.  

In April of this year Mr. Strickler chose to leave SRI of his own free will when it was discovered that he was sending threatening messages to SRI founder Irene Allen under a false e-mail account on the SRI Guestbook Page. When the IP addresses were traced they led directly to Mr. Strickler’s front door. When confronted with this information during a telephone conversation between himself and SRI founder Irene Allen, Mr. Strickler admitted to posting the threats because he did not like the direction where SRI was heading, a direction that gave more responsibility to the SRI team as a whole and less to him personally.  Before the matter could be discussed further Mr. Strickler hung up on Irene and immediately and publicly posted his resignation for all to see on Facebook and his blog pages, as well as personally e-mailing clients of SRI.  Mr. Strickler then engaged in a scorched earth campaign of damaging all SRI related websites and media of which he held control over by deleting content in a fit of anger. He then blocked or banned SRI members from his Facebook pages in an attempt to prevent them from seeing his attacks. 

In the months that followed Mr. Strickler has repeatedly engaged in attacks on SRI and its members, both publicly on his websites and Facebook pages.  He has also continued to post threatening messages under false e-mail accounts on the SRI Guestbook page, as well as sending threatening e-mails to SRI Director Irene Block. Twice in the past few months Irene had reached out via telephone to Mr. Strickler asking for him to stop the attacks and for our two organizations to co-exist in peace.  During the first conversation Mr. Strickler agreed to the truce, yet soon afterward the attacks continued. When Irene contacted him a second time, Mr. Strickler was openly defiant and belligerent, and his behavior was witnessed by others present during the call.  Since that time the attacks have not only continued but have escalated.

This post is not intended to agitate Mr. Strickler to further attacks or to fuel a so-called “feud” between organizations. It is simply to present the truth to the public since Mr. Strickler’s false accusations have dominated the Internet for the past several months.

From this point forward SRI will no longer respond or react to further taunts and accusations from Mr. Strickler or his followers.  Any further attacks or false accusations from Mr. Strickler or his followers will be met with silence. Any transgressions from Mr. Strickler or his followers that break the law or are libelous/defamatory will be handled through the courts.  The decision to end this matter rests solely with Mr. Strickler and we hope that he would make the correct decision.
 

If anyone has any questions we ask that you contact SRI Directors Irene Allen or Mark Johnson directly via e-mail at mail@spiritrescueinternational.com.

Thank you and God bless.

Grieving Belgian woman sleeps next to the grisly remains of her dead husband for almost a year!

A grieving woman was so devastated by her husband’s death that she couldn’t bear to report it – and slept next to his corpse for almost a year.

The mummified remains of Marcel H, 79, lay undiscovered in a Brussels apartment.
It’s thought that he died of an asthma attack in November last year, but his beloved 69-year-old wife, who hasn’t been named, continued to sleep next to the grisly remains, despite the smell of decomposition.

Neighbours didn’t detect any unusual odours and the authorities in Belgium only became suspicious after the landlord claimed the couple had not paid their rent since 2012

When they entered the apartment they found the mummified remains of Marcel H.

Philippe Boxho, pathologist at the Forensic Center of Liege said: ‘A body can mummify in a dry, warm environment.

‘It takes at least a week to reach such a state. In this case the body had rotten in the bed and his internal organs had melted and liquefied.


‘This liquid would have spread and the bed would have been swarming with insects as the body rotted, this would have been a real shame.

‘Even though the smell of human decay is quite specific, many people equate that smell to the smell of garbage and once the body has become rotten the smell does decrease significantly.
‘This is not the first time I have made a discovery of this kind, I've been faced with two or three other occasions where people have continued to sleep with the corpse of their partner.’

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2510068/Grieving-Belgian-woman-sleeps-grisly-remains-dead-husband-year.html#ixzz2m349yRAq

California Ghost Town For Sale

California ghost town for sale, including liquor license: $225,000

Down a narrow dirt road in the Sierra Nevada lies a once-bustling gold mining ghost town — “the real McCoy” — complete with a gin mill and memories of an opium den.

And for $225,000, the Northern California town of Seneca could be yours, according to an ad posted on Craigslist.

Liquor license and all, the sleepy Plumas County town is for sale by its private owners, who are selling due to health issues, the ad states.

The remote property includes the bar, three run-down cabins and 9.8 acres through which the Feather River runs, the ad says. But you will need a generator — there are no utilities — and access depends on the weather.

The town sprung up after gold was found in 1851, according to a bronze plaque on a boulder near the bar. It had a dance hall, feed store, post office and a hotel with solar-heated showers, but the most famous spot was the Gin Mill, a bar run for decades by Marie Sabin, known as “the guardian angel of Seneca.”

Remnants of a mine where Chinese immigrants worked also remain, the ad states.  In the 1970s, owners Jerry Manpearl and Tim TenBrink held music festivals there, calling it “Woodstock West.” Now, the bar is the only draw, but even that has mostly dried up.

“You get weekend warriors, and folks who are panning or prospecting,” TenBrink told the San Francisco Chronicle. “But that’s about it.

The pair bought the town in 1975 when they visited the bar on a hunting trip, TenBrink’s nephew Jeff Potter told ABC News. 

The sketchy dirt road to get to the town is dangerous, with a 1,000-foot drop on the side, Potter wrote in a blog post. The cabins are run-down, but the liquor license is a draw, the ad says. It’s one of only a few in the county.

“Expand it into a unique getaway!” the ad states, cautioning that visitors should be acquainted with remote territory before visiting.

 

The Witch of Wookie Hole - UK

Introduction

Wookey Hole is a village close to Wells in Somerset, England. It is within the parish of St Cuthbert Out. The name Wookey is thought to come from the Old English wocig (an animal trap). The village of Wookey Hole is dominated by the Wookey Hole Caves. Wookey Hole cave was formed by the action of the River Axe on the limestone hills. 

Wookey Hole Caves have been inhabited for 35,000BC years, when they were explored by Neanderthal Man, in his search for a home offering shelter and security. Durring 600BC- 50AD the Celts used the caves and after them numerous travellers from the Romans onwards have made reference to the caves. This shows that even when vacated as a home for Iron Age people, they remained a place to visit and marvel at.  In 189 AD, the Roman diarist Clement of Alexandria relates to the "clashing of numerous cymbals", a known phenomenon where changes in air pressure produce extraordinary noises.

The Witch of Wookey Hole is a stalagmite in the first chamber of the caves and the central character in an old English legend. Because of the witch connection most of the caves are named after her. There is her kitchen, and her parlour, there is Hell's Ladder and The Lake of Gloom. As with most of England, there is not much information about Wookey Hole after the Romans left. However, there is one tale that is believed to date from these dark ages of history. The tale of the Witch of Wookey.

The Story

One version of the story tells of the "black witch who lived in the cave at the head of the Stream of Sorrow on the confines of Hell" who was slain by that most famous Monarch, Arthur, King of the Britons. However, it is likely that that story was made up in the eighteenth century in an effort to attract tourists. The real legend is much older and runs as follows:

During the Dark Ages  in the village of Wookey lived a beautiful young woman, her name is not known. What is known, however, is that she was devoted to her lover. This man, it turned out, was not as devoted to her, and late one night, when he failed to return from the local alehouse, she went out looking for him. To her horror she discovered him in a somewhat compromising position with one of the local wenches. Tearful and wailing, she fled from the scene, and ran out of the village towards the caves which the local preachers claimed lead to the caverns of Hell.

Once inside the caves, her sorrow turned quickly to anger, and, crying out, she called on the devil to curse the man who had betrayed her. That night, as she lay, shivering in the dark subterranean chambers, a diabolic vision appeared to her. The vision claimed that it was a demon from hell and that Lucifer himself had heard her calling and was offering her the chance to gain the power to curse her wayward lover. The price, of course, was her soul. Still in a rage about what had taken place, the woman accepted and was given the power of black magic. The next day the man woke up to discover that he was afflicted with a pox.

Though the New Witch took great pleasure in the man's suffering, it did not sate her appetite for revenge. A chagrined and disappointed woman, having been jilted herself she frequently spoilt budding relationships by using her merciless arts to blight girls' lives and keep them from the joys denied to herself.  One day upon spotting a couple venturing towards her cave, she cursed their relationship to fail. Sure enough, a few short days later the man and woman were arguing and only hours after that, the man stormed off to take holy orders, forsaking the love of women forever. Angered by this provocation of good works, (for the man became a good minister, much given to charitable works) the Witch vowed never to dabble in the relationships of others again.

The years passed and the Witch became increasingly bitter. She lived alone, with her dog and horrid familiars (her goat and its kid) deep in the dark caverns of Wookey Hole. The local people believed she was a witch  and everything that went wrong in the village was blamed on her.  She took her feelings out on the townspeople, causing their crops to fail, storms, drinking habits to change and their milk to turn sour, and even causing them to suffer terrible plagues of disease. In desperation they called for Father Bernard, the man whom the witch had caused to become a monk. Acknowledging their need, his superior, The Abbot of Glastonbury, obliged and appointed him to exorcise the Witch.

Father Bernard had particular skill in such matters, being deeply versed in the exorcising of necromancers and wizards. The villagers led the Father to the shadow of the cliff at the valleys end where his keen grey eyes rested on the entrance to the rock; then he looked up to the sky, as if in invocation. Father Bernard approached the entrance to the caves flanked by villagers, but as they drew closer, one by one they halted in their approach, too frightened to continue. Indeed, the priest himself must have felt some fear, unfastening the rosary and the crucifix about his neck, but, believing his God to be with him, he continued into the dark caverns and was swallowed up by the interior darkness of the hill.

For a time, with his arms stretched out before him, the monk groped blindly onwards, and already the tunnel he traversed appeared to be unending, when a point of feeble light shone through the blackness. He pressed on until he was within the threshold of the first cavern.

Something moved by the stone lamp set on the floor at the farther side. A crouching heap of rags stirred, heaved and then erected itself into the uncertain light from the wisp of flame. A peering form, gaunt and terrible, confronted the monk across the width of the cavern. The pale features of the stranger were barely visible in the gloom; the face of the Witch glared in full, misshapen relief above the flicker of yellow light.

There was a hissing intake of breath, a lean arm shot out towards the Benedictine, and a gloating chuckle sounded through the chamber. Then a voice, malignant and threatening, addressed him; "Rash beyond all reason, why comest thou to look on me? "

The beads were swiftly passing beneath the touch of Father Bernard's fingers, but his answer sounded high and calm in the quiet of the cave.

"It is Holy Mother Church that bids thee. Repent O misguided spirit, and leave thy wickedness ere judgment overtake thee. Thou troublest heaven with thy sorceries and thy mischiefs are abhorred of all mankind. Repent; put away the powers of evil, for thy spells shall not avail thee against the wrath that is to come."

The arm was gradually withdrawn, and behind the monk rose a sound of hoarse and laboured breathing. Father Bernard lifted up the crucifix and never turned his head. Ss he finished speaking he realised the Witch was muttering something into the pool, when she fell silent he tried again," Woman " he said solemnly, " I say once more, Repent; for thy wizardry can harm me not." An empty hush came down on the cave again, but for a moment only; then peal after peal of long-drawn laughter, beating on the ears and distracting the senses, ran round the gloomy void. 

A circle of livid light grew about the rock on which the Benedictine stood, and a thick haze interposed between the Witch and the hooded figure of the man.With his lips moving silently, and his eyes riveted on the obscuring outline of the Witch, the monk advanced. As he stepped beyond the confining ring of flame with unscorched robes, a rending crash shook the Cave, and a mass of rock, breaking out of the lofty roof, fell headlong over the place he had just forsaken. With a shriek of execration and anger, the hag sprang back towards the river, signing swiftly with her hand. She fled deeper into the cave down a narrow passageway called Hell’s Ladder. The brave monk followed her and they met again in the shadowy depths of an inner cavern.Father Bernard had raised his  hand. His gaze was relentless and fixed, and a stern and quelling authority showed in his aspect. 

The Witch checked, and halted suddenly immovable, while a shadow of fear flashed across her intent and baleful visage. In strong, unhurried tones the monk was speaking, and the sonorous Latin phrases rang with a hollow echo through the cavern. Quickly, Father Bernard scooped up a handful of water from the river, blessed it and threw it over the witch. The Witch of Wookey convulsively stiffened, as if held in an invisible grasp. The glare froze in her eyes, and her lips writhed back in an effort to frame a final malediction. Her evil figure subtly changed, appearing to solidify and straighten; the tattered garments seemed to sink in and merge with her aged flesh. A supreme tremor passed into an unbreathing, deathly rigour, and, as the monk's voice ceased, only a stony image reared itself by the unheeding river. She had turned instantly to stone and her frozen figure remains in this cavern - known as The Witch’s Kitchen - to this day.

Folding his black robe about him, Father Bernard turned towards the way he had come. As he gained the rocky passage, the oil in the lamp sent up a hovering tongue of flame and went out

http://oldcorpseroad.co.uk/index.php/legends/262-witch-of-wookey-hole