8 2016 Sep

King and Queen of the Supernatural Part 2

Ed Warren is a straight shooter. He has expounded about ghosts, demons, evil and good at length. From the time of his creepy childhood visitors, right up to the day he passed, he truly believed in the spirit surviving death.
He freely admitted, he could not be certain if a place was haunted without the assistance of a clairvoyant like Lorraine. “I could stay in a house for a month and not be certain there were spirits or demons present. Yes, I would interview the families; get their version of the incidents. But, without a guide, I’d be wasting my time.
Lorraine or other sensitive individuals inform me of what I’m dealing with in a particular environment. They obtain information that is crucial to the investigations. Once we identified what we were up against, I could develop a game plan, using other mediums and religious figures”.

They also recruited an assortment of scientists, to assist them in their investigations. They wanted to be sure that there was no logical explanation in the physical realm for these occurrences. Once they confirmed a malevolent entity was responsible for a particular haunting Ed and Lorraine sought help from a religious authority. In most of their cases a priest.

In 1952 they founded ‘The New England Society for Psychic Research’. Ed wanted to offer assistance to families threatened by uninvited entities. He sought to banish these disruptions using ‘faith’ as a weapon against dark forces. In all, the Warren’s investigated close to 4,000 cases, searching for paranormal evidence.

The one that frightens Lorraine to this day is the ‘Amityville house. She has stated “I Will never enter that house again”. She and her husband felt the presence of pure undiluted evil. Not the spirit of a former person, trapped by circumstance in the material world. This entity was never birthed by mortal flesh. Had not walked in the morning sunlight as an innocent child. On the contrary, what lurked in that house came from darkness, rejoiced when confusion and jealousy damaged sacred relationships.

To be continued

20 2016 Aug

Gary Galka Wizard of the After-Life

Almost twelve years ago the Galka family suffered a devastating loss. Melissa, the oldest daughter struck a tree, driving home from a party. She passed soon afterwards in a local hospital. When the grief stricken family returned home and pulled into the garage a familiar scent lingered in the frigid air. The Galka’s blamed the sweet aroma on fatigue and shock.

Over the next days and weeks, the family experienced multiple occurrences of paranormal activity in their home. Almost immediately after her death, Melissa’s presence could be felt entering the kitchen while the family gathered for a meal. The doorbell rang when no one stood outside. Lights turned off and on, the TV channels changed when no one held the remote. They felt kisses on their forehead. Sometimes a tap on their shoulders and a faint voice they recognized as Melissa’s.’

Convinced that his beloved departed daughter was trying to communicate with his family, he proceeded to create devices capable of bridging the gap between here and the hereafter. He learned what they were experiencing had a name. A.DC.’s, After Death Communications. Galka possessed a particular set of skills. Before starting his own company Gary worked at Weston Electronics Instruments. From there he went to Ana logics Corporation. There, he contributed to Medical Imaging and Ultra Sound advancements. His company called DAS Distributers, manufactured Temperature Strain Gauges, pressure Transducers Accelerometers, and other electro-magnetic sensors. He designed sound meters and laser for hospitals and Aerospace companies.

His first device, the Mel 8704 named for his daughter, the year she was born and the year of her tragic death. Next, he invented the SB Spirit Box. With this device, he captured Melissa’s voice. These precision instruments are now DAS distributer’s main focus. His company supplies thousand s of meters to both novice and professional Ghost Hunters.

Gary donates one third of his proceeds to various bereavement groups throughout the world. He appears on numerous Ghost Hunting shows on the Destination America and the Sci/Fi channel.

6 2016 Jun


When I was ten years old in 1967, still remember the sheer enjoyment, sense of wonder attained by reading the latest Gospel about UFO’s. The Blue Book Project, A Case For UFO’s, new publications surfacing monthly. At the time I read Von Daniken’s accounts of pre-civilization alien agendas.

A race, advanced beyond our comprehension. Their customs and technology totally, what’s the word… alien. Beaming an impression that they are not of composition or mentally structured to empathize with our plight. The expansive landing zones, etched into the countryside of various locales. Discernible only when viewed from the air. Cool. Served to peak my imagination.

It seemed like every week there were sightings. Pictures of what appeared to be metallic disks, spinning out of the sky. Over our nation’s capital; hovering above nuclear facilities. Not just here, but around the world. Thousands of witnesses, law enforcers, judges, lawyers, politicians, astronauts, pilots … Many came forward, this is in the sixties, testified to hearing and seeing saucer shaped craft, featuring blinking lights that rotated as the craft whooshed across the landscapes. A wellspring of new ufo evidence!

While I pondered these alien civilizations, hippies practiced free love and drug use – summer of love and all that…

I grew fascinated by the moon and our neighboring planets, distant stars, massive galaxies. Anything hanging in the dome of the night time sky.

Did I believe there were aliens invading the planet Earth? You bet I did. If I could speak to you from those days, my exuberance relating to conspiracy theories would guarantee you gave these theories second thought.

My reading list included Heinlein, Asminov, Vonnegut, Clark. I was totally convinced we were in the midst of beings with higher intellect, beings that traveled faster than light, in flying saucers.

I believed the governments of the world hid pertinent facts from the public. My curiosity led me to join UFO clubs. Purchase telescopes and read every book I could find on the subject. Drove librarians crazy. I kept asking for the ufo case book . This pursuit, opened the door to writing Scfi.

This Is First In A Series Of Three




31 2016 May



The second occurrence involves (a classic visage) a ghost. I was browsing at a bookstore in the town of New Hope Pa.  Searching for haunted house stories. Must have been 1980. I was searching for a particular volume, scanning the shelves. As I turned down another aisle, a man caught my attention. When I glanced his way what I saw wasn’t a sharp image. Blinked my eyes and he cleared up a bit. He wore the uniform of a British Soldier, circa late 1700’s. His hair appeared reddish in color, his eyes dark, hidden in shadows that obscured his features. As I stepped in his direction, noticed a musket on his shoulder.

Just stood rigid for a spell, trying to decide on a course of action. Thoughts whirling in my brain, but no conclusive strategy emerged. I started to speak, ask a question. As I fumbled to grasp the significance he disappeared. Not all at once, like poof. But as a gradual departure of lines and angles, until all that remained was an after image of his outline, followed by a jolt of vertigo.

When I felt able, sprinted to the end of the aisle where I last saw this memorable outline. Not a remnant of the visage remained. With grim determination I approached the counter at the front of the eclectic book shop. A middle aged women of comely stock welcomed my question to show knowledge and follow protocol.

“The actor I just saw come around the corner.” I informed the capable employee. “Where’d he go?” She gave me a bewildered cautious look; that changed to macabre merriment.

“Oh, you’ve met Red Jack, was he standing in full gear over here?” She pointed to the top of the row I’d just vacated. “Funny only some of you catch sight of the scoundrel. He bothers the hell out of the staff.”

“What? Who is he?” I managed to ask, already knowing for sure what he wasn’t. Alive.

“We call him old Red Coat Jack, although he still looks rather young, don’t you think? A remnant of this area if you will.” She clarified with a quick smile. Not a happy fella. Is that your impression?”

“Well, I didn’t really get a good look. But yes, he wasn’t smiling if I recall.” The woman behind the counter nodded her head in the affirmative. A scrap of concern crossed her face. Don’t let it ruin your day. Think of yourself as the lucky one, she sang out, hands on well curved hips. This should make your day!

While I considered that. A voice from behind me asked the eternal question.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Huh,” was my eloquent response.

“Thought I saw someone I knew, must have been mistaken”