Every October I have flashbacks to a rainy Sunday in Absecon, New Jersey when I showed up at my mom’s nursing home (Absecon Manor) to get her laundry to take home and wash.  My mom had multi-infarct dementia and possibly Alzheimer’s.  She could be absolutely vicious so I dreaded visiting her.

I kept her laundry basket in the wardrobe at the foot of her bed so all I had to do was collect the basket and check to make sure her clothes had not been stolen – which happened a lot.  Her bed was next to the window and there was a small bathroom near the door to the hall.

Her room was at the far end of the hall on the second floor in a modest nursing home.  The CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) and the floor nurse were both very personable.  My mom had been in that room for several weeks before they had to move in a roommate.  The roommate was often asleep when I got there and on that fateful day, she appeared to be in a coma. 

At the foot of the roommate’s bed right inside the door sat two people – a man and a woman.  The second I looked at the bed, in my mind’s eye – third eye – back of my head – not with my eyes as we see a chair or sunset or a dog in the street – I was looking right at what I guessed to be a 6’ 5” tall, blacker than any black in our color spectrum, two-legged demon with a face that reminded me of the Shadow People from Babylon 5 –  insect like but human all that the same time.  Eyes were also black.  I couldn’t see its hands but it had arms and I couldn’t see the feet.

It stood right next to the woman on her left side – just like Carlos Castaneda claimed Don Juan Mateo had told him.  Death stands over or next to your left shoulder.

Instantly, I also heard, in my head, a voice SCREECH – GET THE FUCK OUT!  And it tried to be as menacing as could be with pure venom and hate.  I just stared back at it and in then looked at the man and woman as I opened the wardrobe.  GET THE FUCK OUT NOW  FUCK YOU GET OUT!  I took my time and then looked right at it and then looked at the man and woman and asked “What happened?”  I can’t remember their exact words but they said she was dying.

I nodded and then looked right at the thing again, paused, and excused myself and left the room.

Out in the hall, which, thankfully, was empty, I passed a couple of rooms and made sure no patients were around, and then I turned, put down the basket, raised my arm over my head visualizing the Sword of Manjusri, and cursed the demon to hell and back. 

If you are a Christian, this might upset you but I said aloud “YOU JANUS HEADED SON OF A BITCH!  I don’t CARE what that old lady did.  I DON’T CARE if she goes to hell or not.  BUT you ARE NOT to let that old woman die in front of those two (and I think I hissed ) PEOPLE!

DAMN YOU – blah blah – She is to DIE in front of the ONLY person on this planet that gives a rats ass about her! 

Then I turned, swung the “invisible” sword if anyone has seen me, and screamed and FUCK YOU!

Then I stormed out of the building and went home to do the laundry.

Later in the afternoon, I returned with the folded laundry and as I got halfway down the hall, one of the aides was wheeling my mom for a visit.  As usual, she was having one of her rage attacks so I screamed – get her away from me because simultaneously, the floor nurse and the CAN assigned to the floor came running – racing actually towards me.  “We need to stop you!”

Mrs. ???? passed right after you left and we don’t want you to . . .

I started screaming hysterically and can’t remember what they were saying except they both yelled

OMG YOU SAW IT  with an emphasis on IT!

I then blurted out what I had done and they looked on in horror.  They finally let me put the basket in the room and they then told me the following:

The old lady died after I left.  BUT this is where it gets creepy.

The man was her son and the woman the old lady’s daughter-in-law.  THEY HATED her.

Everyone hated her.  EVERYONE except a niece.

Unbeknownst to me, the couple left right after I did although I never saw them.

They said that the niece was probably walking towards me in the hall because as she was taking off her raincoat and putting down her umbrella  – – – –


Right at that precise moment in FRONT OF THE ONLY PERSON ON THE PLANET that cared for the old lady AT ALL!

The nurse told me she never looked at the demon’s face and that it NEVER spoke to her.  The CNA said it never made a sound. Both women had to change bandages and adjust the IV and bedding.  The nurse said she had to pass her hand THROUGH the demon but it ignored her and she tried not to think about having her arm inside it’s body or arm.

They were dumbstruck that it talked to me and that I cursed it out – stared it down and cursed it out a second time.

No one knew if it escorted the old woman’s soul or not.  But my command was honored.

I finally stumbled more or less down to the lobby to talk to the stereotypical New Age middle aged receptionist with large hair who was always chatty.  Oh YES, she gushed!  All kinds of beings come for the dead but it’s usually a family member but I  – increase volume ‘ I” have seen angels.  And yes, that lady was pure evil. 

I wanted to get more information when I spied one of the best looking men I have EVER seen who wasn’t on a magazine cover or in a movie.  Three piece all black, expensive looking suit – perfect body – gorgeous hair.  Oh MY!  But I was so freaked out and it was Sunday so I figured he had just come from church and I looked like something that cat had dragged in out of the rain.

I also felt like crap.  To quote the Red M&M from the commercial “THEY DO EXIST!”

The receptionist was rambling on and just then the elevator opened and out came the drop dead guy pushing – YUP – the gurney with the old lady in a black body bag!  I lost it all over again.

OMG THERE’S NO SOUL in the bag!

Oh yes, said the receptionist as matter a fact as if you had just said that you shouldn’t bake without letting the oven come to temperature. 

Oh, yes.  Sometimes the soul stays in the body.  I usually see them walking alongside the gurney or floating or even sitting above the body.  But usually they are in the body and not sure what to do.

Like I wrote in my last post, I was racing for the door as if I had entered the Hotel California.

At work, I asked my boss who had been a Roman Catholic monk – gave it up because he was very, very, very, very gay.  He took no interest.

I then sought out a fascinating woman who worked at the Circulation Desk who had done a doctoral dissertation on thanatology but never finished it or didn’t defend it.  Either way she didn’t get her doctorate.  But she was an expert on death rituals around the world and had conducted interviews with people who had seen “entities” come for the dying.

Oh, yes, there are nasty looking goblin creatures – those are the closest to the thing you saw.  Never heard of ANYONE ever seeing one of those.  Angels with wings.  Usually relatives even children and pets but a FULL size coal ebony shiny blacker than black over 6 foot tall insectoid anthropomorphic demon that screamed FUCK YOU – no – never heard of that but you weren’t the only one that saw it.  Only one that faced it and only one it spoke to or cursed – yes that’s not common.

I have told this story to hospice nurses.  Everyone I’ve talked to has only seen relatives – not even a pet.  I have tried to read every account of people who have seen something or someone come for the dying but have yet to find an account like the one I’m writing about now.

One reason why I thought I COULD write this up this evening is two fold.

My friend started a discussion in a Facebook group with the question:

A few hours later I got an email from Quora with this post. 

So, I figured I didn’t to wait to get a THIRD “message” from the universe that it’s time to document the


Death Stalker – The Murder of Patti List in 1971

Every October I have flash backs to the night my parents dropped me off for an audition.

The house was on the North side of Westfield, New Jersey which doesn’t mean anything to folks who don’t live in Westfield.  Sandwiched between Route 22 and the railroad tracks that separate the North side from the South side are secluded neighborhoods with fancy names.  None were gated when I was growing up.  Thinking back, that’s odd, right?  The wealthy all live in gated communities now.  Although not mansions like you see in the movies, these homes were much larger than the average home.  Most had spectacular architecture.  Victorians, yes.  Many of those.  But the Tudors were my favorite.

And it was a stunning Tudor laid back nestled in the trees with soft lightening that I had been invited to one evening in October 1971 to audition to be the piano accompanist to a theatrical performance.  I was not at that time able to blurt out from the depths of my mind what I was sensing, but years later the label for what I sensed back then came tumbling out as a friend from work and my mother and I watched live as John List was arrested on June 1, 1989.  I’ll type that label in a minute or so.

I rang the doorbell after walking up a few steps into a portico off a circular drive.  Remember back then most homes were rather modest with short driveways but this house was not one of those.  The woman that answered was dressed normally.  I say that because there were no signals to set off an alarm but everything else about her gave me the willies.

There was a man in the room and his name was Edwin Illiano.  He was flamboyant but toned down from what you’d expect these days.  Illiano was the drama coach for a small theater group that had been recently formed.  My late piano teacher, Paul Kueter, a concert pianist I might add, had recommended me to Iliano and made arrangements for the audition.  I’ll skip to the chase.  I wasn’t hired and it was a paying gig.

I was instructed to sit in a large chair facing the lady [whose name I could never remember until it was in the newspaper]  – Barbara Sheridan – [one of the drama coaches and Iliano’s COMPANION, Westfield Leader March 29, 1990] on my left and Iliano on my right.  It was a huge room with a loft and staircase that descended on the far right of the room.  From where I sat I could see up into the loft where there were doors that must have gone to rooms.  There was a piano in the room but I was oddly enough not asked to audition.

Instead, these two odd characters drilled me with questions and at one point, burned into my memory, or to quote the crackpot, Christine Blasey Ford, “Indelible in the Hippocampus”, was the moment when the woman gushed “OH you must meet” and Iliano stood and said, yes, here comes my PROTOGE.  I had glimpsed a wraith at the top of the stairs and this skinny, what I thought was a druggie, descended the stairs with a blank look on her face as these two adults just fawned over her.

Now back in 1971, I had read enough Mika Waltari and Hans Van Loon, and Shakespeare, plus I had seen enough film noire to have alarm bells go off.  I did want the job.  It was going to pay well ($7 an hour) and I was only 17.  But I also had that feeling portrayed in the song Hotel California where the singer is racing for the exit.

Hi.  Blah blah  OH you two are in the same class (12th grade).  Mmm, never saw this skinny kid before and I’m in honors classes but smile, the job pays well.

The girl, whose name I didn’t even pick up on, just looked at me and then went back upstairs.

Wait, that’s odd, right?

What was really odd was I felt like the girl had a cloud or veil or shadow or something engulfing her.  My entire being wanted to be as far away from her as I could get.

I have one of those faces that is very expressive – or so I’m told – so I think the reason I wasn’t hired was I had waves of utter revulsion and horror washing over my face as I tried to do a fake smile.

My parents picked me up and I remember saying that the people were creepy.

When the news hit that a family in town was found brutally murdered, and a manhunt was on the way for the head of the household, one John List, I shrugged it off.  I didn’t know a Patti List and went about my business.  Not that everyone in town wasn’t buzzing and yes we all drove by the house which would eventually get torched.  But I just didn’t think I had ever met her.  None of my friends had either.  There were over 700 students in my graduating class and I just had never encountered this girl.  Plus, as I would later find out, she ran with a bad crowd.

The horror of what happened in my hometown really ruined Christmas that year.  But again, I just didn’t think I had met Patti UNTIL Edwin Illiano was on the news when List was arrested in 1989.  I freaked out.  I slowly began to wake up to the fact that I had met Patti List about two weeks or less prior to her father shooting her in the jaw with an antique .22 caliber pistol!

THE second I saw that slimy drama wannabe, I leapt off the couch screaming MÉNAGE À TROIS, which triggered one of my mother’s rage attacks.  My colleague looked on in horror – both at the viciousness my mother could exude and my utter horror that I had actually met this creep and his protégé!  And that sick, sick feeling I got from the woman in whose home I had sat that night!

Over the years I would see what was in the news about the murders.  Then in preparing to write this blog post about sensing DEATH on Illiano’s protégé, I Googled just her name and drama club and freaked out yet again!  In 1991, Illiano made a FILM that got restored and uploaded to YouTube! 


I was right.  Something sick was going on and luckily, I escaped unscathed.

In the film, Illiano RE-ENACTS having sex not only with Patti but with at least two other “girls” in the Drama Club.  OMG WHO DOES THAT?  And he had the “actress” portraying Patti read sexual fantasies from her diary, create black magic rituals, and use drugs.  Absent from the tittering on soft porn film was ANY mention of Barbara Sheridan which I found odd.

Rumors of Patti belonging to a coven were rampant.  At the trial we learned that “Late Thursday, Miller tried to introduce testimony from the Rev. Eugene Rehwinkel, the family’s pastor in Westfield, that Patricia List had given him a book, ‘The Treasury of Witchcraft.'(1) But Rehwinkel refused to testify about his conversations with Patricia or her father on the grounds that they were confidential talks”.  https://www.upi.com/Archives/1990/04/05/Sister-in-law-Accused-family-killer-dominated-by-bedridden-wife/2883639288000/

A few books were written about the murders and I just found an interesting comment.

“But time marches on. The drama workshop was disbanded shortly thereafter, probably due to the notoriety caused by the murders. I graduated high school, went to college, and went about my life. I’ve often thought about Pat over the years, and of course in my memory she is forever sixteen, strutting around a stage in a swimsuit as Stupefyin’ Jones or whispering to me more information than I ever wanted about experimenting with sex with her boyfriend. I think about her swishing around the ballroom at her house in a nearly Elvira-like witch costume, mercifully unaware of how she would be laid out on a sleeping bag in that very room three weeks later. But as the years pass, those thoughts become less frequent”.


I cannot identify “Brilliant Breakfast” but apparently she was one of the “close friends” and she is one of the “guests” at the Halloween party depicted in the 1991 film.  Note that the blogger writes “three weeks later”.  The party would have been on Saturday or Sunday.

The play was announced in the Thursday, November 11, 2021 edition of the Westfield Leader.  No one knew when the paper hit the newsstands that morning, that Patti had been dead for at least 40 hours!

In the creepy 1991 film, one gets the impression that Patti List was the star of the upcoming play but it clearly states that she was a “mere” “understudy”.  VERY interesting I must say.

I did NOT attend this.

My memory seems to recall that the audition was on a Tuesday after dinner so it was either October 26 or November 2. 

Several years ago, I saw a comment on one of the books on Amazon and contacted the writer.  She, like the blogger, had been in that drama club and knew Patti; but not well.  Both of us were creeped out as we learned over the years that Patti had been in a coven but it didn’t surprise either of us.  Oddly enough, my new friend was also interested in ghosts and we used to call each other to chat.  I called her the other day to catch up and to ask her if she had discovered the disgusting film.  She had not.  I then told her about it and we both gagged.

I cannot find a book which mentions Patti belonging to a coven but a keyword search yielded a review of a book about the murder of Jeannette DePalma who was murdered in Springfield, New Jersey adjacent to Westfield in August 1972.  I don’t’ recall this murder probably because I was attending college orientation sessions.

Why was this murder rumored to have been a Satanic rite back in 1972 but by 2021 it’s just a case of a stolen handbag and murder?????????

The film Illiano made is super creepy.  He portrays himself having a twisted “Lolita” type affair with the late Patti – so my gut wasn’t wrong.  There’s a scene where three girls skip around a dimly lit pentagram with candles only to snuff them out when Illiano emerges from a tent so I guess they all went camping?  The scenes marked “Lake Blue Heron – Summer 1971” were twisted.  Patti watching Illiano peeing on a tree – eeewwww.  I can’t believe anyone actually “acted” in this sick film but it confirms my gut feeling.  The only mention of this camp that I can find in the local paper is for Girl Scouts and that the camp was in Sparta. 

And sure enough, there is a scene where the actress reads from Patti’s diary – a diary that John List was rumored to have read.  In it she writes that she thought Illiano was “cute” – barf – and her friends thought she felt that way because, and I quote “I had done too many drugs”.  The film also has the diary stating that Patti wanted Illiano for some witchcraft rite – cue Satanic – saying he’d make the PURRFECT warlock.  So my gut screaming – this girl is on something – in retrospect was spot on. I don’t believe she was stoned on illegal 1971 marijuana but something a lot more dangerous.  I also do not remember her smelling like pot. 

All the “official” reports only admit that Patti smoked pot.  What I saw that night was not someone who had simply smoked pot.  Now that marijuana is legal in Nevada, I’ve seen several people who are heavy smokers. What I saw that night had a very different vibe. In the film, you see her put pills in some drink she then gave Illiano before they had all performed a sex ritual.  LSD was popular back then but I’ll never know for sure but I am positive she had just woken up from having taken something and had wandered downstairs just in time so I could be introduced. I may never find proof but I swear those two adults had a VERY unhealthy relationship with that teen.

(1)  Oddly enough, in one of the moves across country, I got rid of MY copy of Treasure of Witchcraft.  Witchcraft was VERY popular amongst teenage girls in Westfield but I didn’t know anyone that actually did anything with it. I even attended several slumber parties where we performed the exact same parlor game as portrayed in The Craft.

I will confess that the last time I participated in this party game was when I was the one being lifted. My friends screamed when, so they said as they dropped me, I, um, levitated the last couple of inches towards the ceiling on my own. A couple tried to break my fall but I remember “jumping” and landing on my feet. The party came to an abrupt end and I was never invited to another party. Two of my friends became ardent Christians that summer and didn’t want ANYTHING to do with me unless I converted. I still have dreams of levitating up to ceilings but they’re only dreams – I hope.

This a a FANTASTIC blog post with information I never saw before!



In summary, this was the first time that I sensed DEATH on someone. In November 1965, my parents took me on the SS. Oceanic for a cruise from New York (before the dock strikes ruined cruising) to Nassau in the Bahamas. We ended on a glass bottom boat with a family from New Jersey. Their children were around my age and we had a great time spotting sea turtles. The Oceanic was brand new and couldn’t dock near land. We had to take a tender. A much smaller ship that looked like it was in desperate need of paint was docked next to the tender.

My dad, who was always calm, cool, laid back, mellow, just the nicest guy on the planet, suddenly went ballistic and grabbed the man by the shoulders and started screaming “YOU CAN”T GET ON THAT FIRE TRAP – IT’S GOING TO BURN AND SINK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN!!!! ” He then screamed that we had a suite – it was a very nice stateroom but hardly a suite as we know them to be now. “DON’T get on that thing! Your family can stay with us!”

The poor man pushed my dad away and grabbed his family and ran for the gang plank and got on. My mom had a helluva time calming my dad down.

All these years, I thought that the ship we saw docked was the one that sank that night. We got the distress signal but we were too far out to sea. The SS. Yarmouth DID catch fire that night! If found a detailed blog that is now offline but the cached version is excellent.

“Tony bought these postcards on his travels – the first shows the SS Yarmouth, on which they enjoyed their Bahamas cruise.

The second shows the SS Yarmouth with its sister ship SS Yarmouth Castle, which also ran pleasure cruises from Miami to Nassau.

In November 1965, just 11 months after Tony and Colin’s trip, the Yarmouth Castle caught fire and sank during a cruise, with appalling consequences. The tragedy would change maritime safety laws forever…

I trust the author of the blog will not mind me re-creating the information here as the author was “touched” by two ship fires!

On 12 November 1965, the Yarmouth Castle set sail from Miami for a pleasure cruise to Nassau. There were 376 passengers and 176 crew on board, making a total of 552.

Shortly before 1am, when the boat was 60 miles from Nassau, a badly burned passenger staggered from a stairwell and collapsed on deck. From that moment, events took place at dizzying speed.

It would later emerge that a cabin – which was already excessively hot, being above the boiler room, and which had exposed flammable insulation – had been used as a storeroom, crammed full of mattresses, paint cans and other items. One mattress, pressed right up against the ceiling light, ignited as a result.

The ship’s fire alarms failed to sound, the sprinkler system failed to activate, and as the blaze burst from the cabin, it raced at dizzying speed through the liner’s wooden superstructure, and its wood-panelled corridors, decks and ventilation system.

When the onboard fire hoses didn’t have enough water pressure to fight the flames, the bridge was consumed before the crew could radio for help.

Most passengers were woken by the sound of screaming. Many had to break their portholes to escape their cabins – their windows had been painted shut. Terrified, they climbed ropeladders to the decks.

With the front half of the boat rapidly consumed by flames, the passengers crammed to the rear of the decks, hunting for life jackets and lifeboats. As there had been no information on evacuation procedures provided, no-one knew what to do.

Some of the crew showed incredibly bravery, even giving away their own lifejackets. But not all behaved heroically, or even ethically.

As the ship blazed brightly in the darkness, it was spotted by two other crafts in the area.

As they raced towards the Yarmouth Castle, the Finnish freighter Finnpulp repeatedly attempted to radio Nassau to raise the alarm. They received no reply.

It wasn’t until 1.36am – 40 minutes after the fire began – that the Finnpulp managed to contact the US Coast Guard in Miami and report the unfolding disaster. By then an American liner, Bahama Star, was also rushing towards the burning cruise ship.

Finnpulp’s Captain John Lehto was appalled when the first lifeboat to leave the burning boat rowed up to their stern.

Although it could seat 40, there were only 20 survivors on board, and of those, only four were passengers. None were women or children.

The remaining 16 were crew members – including the Yarmouth Castle’s captain, Byron Voutsinas.

Furious, Captain Lehto took the passengers onboard, but ordered the captain and crew: ‘Go back and look for more survivors.’

The next two lifeboats to escape the burning ship contained only crew.

In total, only six of the Yarmouth Castle’s 13 lifeboats were successfully launched – several burned before they could be launched, while the ropes of others jammed in the winches, as they had been painted over.

Because they were all missing rowlocks, the lifeboats had to be paddled like canoes.

Desperate to save the trapped passengers, the crews of the Finnpulp and Bahama Star took their own lifeboats and motor boats to line up beside the burning ship.

The rescuers later recalled the screams and yells, the sounds of breaking wood and glass – and the constant, low groaning of steam being forced through the ship’s whistle.

Passengers swarmed down ropes and rope ladders – or simply jumped, then clung to chairs, mattresses, suitcases and other items in the cold water.

As the blaze consumed the liner, four planes sent by the U.S Coastguard arrived. But even flying 4,000 feet overhead, they were nearly engulfed by smoke and flames.

In a last ditch rescue attempt, Finnpulp pulled up so close thatpassengers were able to jump across to safety. But when their own paint began to burn, they had to pull away.

The last passengers were rescued at 4am. By then, the Yarmouth Castle‘s hull was glowing red and the water around it was boiling. It sank in a roar of steam at 6.03am.

When they arrived at Nassau later that day, Finnpulp and Bahama Star were carrying 465 survivors – 291 passengers and 174 crew members.

14 critically injured people had already been airlifted to hospital, three of whom would later die. This took the final death toll to 90 – of which only two were crew.

The disaster shocked the world. Captain Voutsinas and other crew members were charged with violation of duty, and in March 1966, the U.S. Coastguard published a damning report on the tragedy.

There had been numerous safety violations in addition to those already described: Many cabins held no life jackets, and no fire doors were closed during the blaze.

Although required by American law, the Yarmouth Castle did not have three inflatable liferafts, or two radio operators, on board.

However, it emerged that as it was an older ship, and because it was registered under the Panamanian flag, the liner only needed to conform to far less stringent international safety conventions.

Following the tragedy, the Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) law was updated to include expanded and enhanced safety regulations, requiring fire drills, safety inspections and structural changes to older ships.

Any vessel carrying more than 50 overnight passengers is now required to be built entirely of non-combustible materials such as steel.

You can watch Pathe newsreel footage of the survivors disembarking at Nassau here: https://youtu.be/ZZ0gvZ72RoY

I am indebted to Wikipedia’s entry on this topic (this account is a truncated retelling) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SS_Yarmouth_Castle

Some sobering photos of the fire and of survivors arriving at Nassau can be found here: http://flashbackmiami.com/2014/11/12/ss-yarmouth-castle-fire/

I am incredibly glad that Tony (my father) and Colin were not on that particular cruise.

It it an appalling, devastating disaster and our hearts go out to all who died so tragically, all who survived it, and all who lost loved ones or were in any way affected.

Additional note by Tony:

Tiffany’s account above is quite chilling for me.

I only found out recently (when I was looking for a picture of the SS Yarmouth) that its sister ship the SS Yarmouth Castle had sunk.

However, there was no mention of the shocking events linked to its sinking, and the resulting death toll.

I can only assume that the ship we were on, the SS Yarmouth, was equally a death trap – an accident waiting to happen.

It’s good to know that today’s very high safety standards on cruise ships are the result of this terrible incident. At least some good came out of it.

This tragedy happened in November 1965, when Colin and I were at sea again, this time on a German cargo ship working our passage from Los Angeles to Auckland, New Zealand. More about that in later letters.

The Anu Simon (Hopi for Ant Friends/People/Cousins)

It is my gut opinion that we live in a simulation of sorts, a matrix, or a bad dream. Whatever it is, there are times when a synchronicity or a glitch jolts us to ponder, often using a WTF just happened yelp.

I was born in New Jersey. I spent 8 weeks in 1974 at a Anasazi Chacoan outpost called Salmon Ruins, not far from Aztec Ruins, outside Aztec, New Mexico. It was there that I met a young Chicano who, for reasons I will leave out here, I married in 1997. I moved to El Paso, Texas in late October 2000 to start work as the medical librarian at the University of Texas – El Paso campus. The building was designed and built to look like a one of the ancient buildings in Bhutan. Many of the buildings were. We had a Tibetan altar in the lobby and thangkas and Tibetan religious statues. I loved that part of it having been initiated into the Nyingmapa School by the late Penor Rinpoche. I hated El Paso but there were benefits to working on a campus where Tibetans would often visit.

The fact that I moved to El Paso in 2000 is significant because I got to travel to Aztec, New Mexico in April 2001 to meet my husband’s family. Mr. D, as he was called, was a WWII veteran with a VERY interesting life story. I will skip over the violent child abuse and adultery. He was clearly dying when I met him and had “mellowed” out.

He seemed transfixed upon meeting me. I had heard so many HORRIBLE tales about him that I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to be around him at all but he seemed mesmerized. Mr. D. didn’t do anything out of the ordinary and didn’t say anything out of the ordinary either. He took us all out to dinner at a Ute Reservation Casino in Colorado where he took me aside from everyone else and had me play the slots next to him. He genuinely seemed delighted that day and my husband was shocked out of his mind since this man NEVER EVER EVER acted the way he did that day. The exact words were “OMG my dad is holding hands with Barbara and taking her around the casino! WTF?!!!!!”

And then he died; just like that – – a mere 7 weeks after we met. Upon his death, his oldest daughter found a stack of notes or letters to the family detailing his life. Tales of herding sheep at age 10 out in the desert alone with nothing but a rifle and dog and some supplies so he wouldn’t starve. Tales of getting wounded in Guam and being the last American alive to defend the area. Tales of lying flat on his back and pretending to be dead and shooting the Japanese out of trees. Scary stuff that we would eventually see depicted in the movie “Code Talkers“. And, of course, tales of working alongside his Navajo/Dine friends – the famous Code Talkers.

BUT, you’re wondering so what? BUT in that stack was a ‘letter” that gave a short history of how Mr. D met a Medicine Man and his TWO (2) wives who had EMERGED out of an underground “pueblo”. The unnamed Medicine Man decided to heal Mr. D who had been shot in the stomach and patched up rather poorly by doctors employed by the Veterans Administration. To do so, he PACKED (not sure what that entailed but we got the impression this man cut into Mr. D and PACKED) his stomach with peyote. Yup PEYOTE. He then gave BUTTONS of peyote for Mr. D to ingest for the rest of his life and he did a “healing” on him.

This strange man with two wives was one of the ANT PEOPLE! Oh, yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Here is an excerpt from Ancient Code: I doubled checked with the Hopi dictionary = Hopìikwa lavàytutuveni : a Hopi-English dictionary of the Third Mesa dialect with an English-Hopi finder list and a sketch of Hopi grammar to make sure someone wasn’t just copying and pasting all over the Internet that the Hopi word for “ANT” is ANU. Friends or relatives, however, is simon not NAKI but it’s not my job to clean up mirror sites.

The more you look at ancient texts and stories from around the world, you can’t help but see surprising patterns. Some are so glaring that it takes real effort to ignore them, but that’s what many people do. One example is from the Hopi Native America tribe and their beliefs in “Ant People.” The Hopi of the American Southwest are sometimes referred to as “the oldest of people” by other Native American tribes.

Once you learn about the Ant People, you can’t help but compare them to the ancient Sumerian texts of the Anunnaki. Why? Let’s take a simplified look, respecting the truth that only members of the Hope tribe could fully explain.

In ancient cultures, there is a common thread of worshipping extraterrestrial beings from the stars who will one day return. Animals symbolic of these beliefs appear frequently in ancient art.

The Hopi have a reverence for ants, similar to the way the Egyptians and Sumerians and other cultures had a special reverence for cows. The cows may have represented our Milky Way galaxy, and in the case of the ants, they described beings from the stars known as the Ant People.

The Hopi words for the Ant People or Ant Friends (Anu Sinom) create a direct link to the stories of the Anunnaki. It could be coincidental, but it is quite striking. The Babylonian sky god was named Anu, which is the Hopi word for ant. The word, Naki translates to “friends.” Thus, Anu-Naki translates to “ant friends” in Hopi. In both languages, they are describing extraterrestrial beings, but the Hopi say these Ant People came from under the ground.

Another strikingly similar word is the Hopi word sohu, meaning “star,” and the Egyptian word sahu means “stars of Orion.” This constellation is seen repeatedly across the globe. Ancient Astronaut theorists observe Orion and other systems such as the Pleiades appearing over and over in the layout of the pyramids and ancient structures.

Another coincidence?

In the Hopi legend, these Ant People were their saviors, taking them underground and teaching them how to survive two extreme cataclysms. Once again, we see stories of a great flood like that described in Sumerian texts and the Bible.

And now you’re wondering WHO CARES? Well, as I said, I think we are living in some sort of ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE simulation, not unlike the one depicted in the movie, 13th Floor. And the glitch I felt the other evening. In the quote above I enlarged the word COINCIDENCE. And here is where it gets weird.

Ryan and I were chatting. I think it started with me rambling on about New Mexico and how Mr. D had been healed, ah yes, I wanted to talk about peyote’s healing powers. Anyway, blah blah blah and Medicine Man with two wives, Ant People. Well, if someone could have fallen backwards and jumped out of his skin all at once, that is the best description. I had to start the storyALL over again from the beginning and this time not skip anything.

I finished. Ryan then launched into his personal tale. I’ll skip the preliminaries which were quite funny. Ryan was at a wedding. His friends had hoped that he would hit it off with the wife’s sister. They did. In fact the sister wasVERY interested and started talking about how she wanted Ryan to visit her in Osino. Mmm. Okay. “I want to you to meet the ANT PEOPLE who come out at night”. And then, I wish I could find the words to describe the pantomime of “BE RIGHT BACK” and the look of OMG on his face, it was perfectly executed. Oddly, enough, for once I wasn’t laughing. The pantomime was hilarious but the topic, not so much. Ryan politely extradited himself and sought out his hosts.

“Oh, we are so thrilled you two hit it off. About that. Yes blah blah blah Ant People!” The poor couple just hung their heads and Ryan eased on out of the reception and tried not to remember it until I went and threw a KEYWORD out into the ether and hooked a matrix fish.

At which point I’m WTF! I thought they only resided in the New Mexico/Arizona areas. Nope, my husband tells me they are part of the Ute and Shoshone “folklore” as well.

OMG and they’re JUST down the road more or less?

There is an expletive to describe towns and villages and hamlets in the middle of nowhere. If you are an American, you’ll know what Bum F NoWHERE means. If you’re not an American, think of how you would describe some backwater tiny town far, far away from any major city. Most people want to get away from such a place. Nothing usually happens in such a place – nothing that you want to admit to anyway.

So, what are the odds that I would be married to a man whose father WROTE about a Medicine Man from the ANT PEOPLE and then I have a friend staying with me in a remote, mountain valley bedroom community to a gold mining and cattle ranch and casino industry who JUST happened to have been hit on by a woman who lives truly in a HAMLET off the interstate several miles from downtown Elko (I’m 15 miles from downtown by the way) who has ANT PEOPLE who come out at night and visit her.

SERIOUSLY? Who wrote this story arc? The AI is glitching! Read my last post about running into the Roma back in New Jersey and Rome and Carlin and how Ryan studied cartomancy with a Roma lady who traveled in one of those wagons you see on TV! Mind you I used to teach a course at UTEP on Prehistoric Rock Art so it’s not like I haven’t delved into the “stories” related to the ANT PEOPLE depicted all over the Southwest but I’m in #$%ing NEVADA !

One of the books I plan on ordering is one by Ron Morehead who Joshua P Warren talked about on his latest podcast. Morehead’s book is about QUANTUM PHYSICS and BIGFOOT. Ryan has been tracking Bigfoot stories in, yup, ELKO COUNTY. I cannot make this stuff up I wish it were fiction. I’d be bored out of my mind but I often wonder what my life would have been like if I had not stepped out of the ordinary life most lead into the TWILIGHT ZONE.

If you have ever met someone who met someone from the ANT PEOPLE or if you have met one yourself are ARE an ANT PERSON, please comment below or comment just for the sake of commenting. Thanks. I’ll go back now to my regularly scheduled weird evening.

A Roma Woman in Nevada, Cartomancy, and Unexpected Answers

When I first met Ryan he talked about a Gypsy (A Roma or Romani) woman who he met through her daughter. The older woman had once traveled in a caravan in a REAL wagon like you see in the movies around Nevada and the surrounding states. Ryan, being Ryan HAD to ask about Cher’s song and if it was true. The answer was a bit more chilling. Her family had to flee a town when the men were accused of being thieves and yes, the women had a certain “reputation” and she left it at that.

What grabbed my attention was the fact that this lady, who has now long since passed away, told Ryan after teaching him how to do a reading that she personally created, was that he had the GIFT. Ah, so I’m not wrong. If a Romani can “see” him, and pass on a technique and say that he had a special gift, knack, that none of her other “students” had, then I must learn this. And I’m not wrong about what I see either.

It took 4 months to get a lesson. I haven’t learned how to guide the querent YET but I did have my first lesson so Ryan could ask the questions that had been troubling him. When I got my first reading, he was taken aback as no on had ever asked the kinds of questions I asked. I asked two dead men to come forward and two living. But what we asked is private.

BACKSTORY – Or detour if you like. I met a 20 something Romani girl working at a gas station in Smithville, NJ back in 1998. She spied a book on my front seat by Alexandra David Neil ‘s adopted son, Lama Yongden. The young lady lit up like a Christmas tree and said “OH I LOVE books like that” and because I had JUST finished reading it, I gave it to her through my driver’s side window and never saw her again.

My next encounter was this past August 2021 in a trailer park in Carlin. But he was only part “gypsy” as he claimed but because of that he had sight and could feel energy. I would later find out from my husband, that there is a rather LARGE Romani population here in Elko County and he had treated several as patients. HUMPF – Wish he had said something years ago.

In college, the Anthropology Department Chair had written a book about the Gitani of Andalucia. I questioned her about the book because she talks about flamenco. I had studied flamenco guitar and my Puerto Rican Spanish professor had taught me the proper flamenco use of castanets. His cousin was a professional dancer back in Puerto Rico. I threw a hissy fit when Quintana admitted that she NEVER bothered to learn any of the musical instruments nor did she bother to learn FLAMENCO! HOW THE HELL do you spend years with a group whose life revolves around music and you’re not a musician. Her book reveals the lack of understanding of just what MUSIC does to a soul and to a culture. But that is the only rant I’ll let loose or I’ll lose my audience yet again.

So thats my backstory with Romani – that and we saw several dressed in full 19th century garb in Rome in 2003 and got pick pocketed on a subway by a gang. The Romani are an incredible people!

Cartomancy has a long history – some of it disputed. Some of it fascinating. Some of it forgotten. Two outstanding articles are freely available. Dusty White’s presentations on the history of cartomancy are also a must if you can wade through the audio.

BUT I’ve never seen anything nor read ANYTHING like what I learned.

First you must purchase a brand new deck of 52 ordinary playing cards like you see in any supermarket or what they use in casinos.

Remove the four queens if you wish to speak to four women. Living or dead. But you must decide on four women you wish to query. You also must have known or know the women or men. You can’t ask questions of say the President of Romani or the actor or super model you fantasize about.

Remove the four kings if you want answers from men. Even if it’s only one man, you pick four. Again living or dead. Discard the Joker. ELIMINATE all distractions so put the kids and pets outside or avoid doing it at home at all. No radio, TV, or music or anything to take away from your focus for both the querent and the reader. Be great if we had one of those parlors where you close the heavy drapes and the door, right? Turn off cellphones and electronic devices that might suddenly beep. Unplug Siri and Alexa!

You cannot ask questions of the person holding the cards.

Choose the four women or four men wisely. If men, return the queens to the deck. If women, return the kings. Ask the querent to shuffle until he/she feels like they have shuffled enough. Have the querent hand the deck to the reader.

Here is what is so different than anything I’ve ever seen. INVITE, yes INVITE each lady or gentleman into the room as if they were contestants waiting in the wings on stage to be invited onto the stage or into the studio living room.

WELCOME Martha, please come in. Thank you for coming. Have a seat! Good to see you!” Do this whether the person is alive or dead. You the reader are summoning the SPIRIT of the person. YES, the SPIRIT will be answering your questions and they have no choice in the matter. They must answer truthfully if they know the answer. Truly welcome each individual even if you do know who he/she is and would like to punch the person out. YOU the, reader, are to stay dispassionate.

You can ask, which of these ladies (or men), are the most jealous of my success? Or wishes me harm, the most? Or stole from me the most? Or care for me the most? Affairs of the heart are why most people seek out a tarot reader. That and careers I guess. So which one of these potential bosses wishes to hire me?

Which of these men, betrayed me the MOST. The MOST is the keyword. For all you know at the moment, each one betrayed the querent.

The reader only guides the querent to ask questions from the heart. Guide, not put words in the querent’s mouth.

And the READER cannot gasp, gulp, spook, or get emotional. I stink at that. I did gasp and I did shiver but it was my first try.

My first inclination was to ask questions of deities but you can’t do that. You must have known the dead person well and the living person well. I protested that I thought I knew Shri Ganesha quite well but no, you can’t ask questions of non-humans per se. As the querent, therefore, I had to think of four men or four women I wanted to question. I picked four men. Two living and two dead. The answers were uncanny. Ryan got answers that were also uncanny and the last one unnerved him.

It MIGHT be possible to ask which store should I visit or which slot machine will pay off but that experiment waits for another day.

With the question asked, you go left to right with the cards facing the reader. You pull a card from the top of the deck, try not to look at it and lay it like you do in Solitaire about a half inch down from the top edge facing up on top of the first queen or king. If the card you pull is the SAME suite as the queen or king, STOP the answer is this person.

Keep pulling and asking and going left to right. The higher the number, the stronger the answer. You might not get an answer at all. Stop and ask another one.

You’e not supposed to read for yourself but having a Sun sign in Gemini, a Rising Sign in Gemini, and Mercury in Gemini, I thought one of my twins could be the querent and the other the reader to generate an example using cards I never opened until today that I bought in a shop in Xian, China in 1987. Yeah, I know cool, right?

If you have EVER seen this method used to ask question of the living and/or the dead using cards, let me know. It is unique in my experiences.

Ice Giants in North America – Tale of a Siddhi Ability

For the past month Ryan has been telling me tales of Red Haired Cannibalistic Giants in North America. There are several OUTSTANDING documentaries available on YouTube.

MegalithomaniaUK uses drones to fly over Lovelock Cave giving viewers a whole new perspective on the site. I highly recommend the series!

Winnemucca is only 231 miles from our house or four hours via Interstate 80.

In trying to see if there was a written account of a tale that Ryan had heard that these cannibalistic giants were once all over North America and that thousands of Native Americans had come together to defeat them in a series of great battles assisted by – wait for it – NON Cannibalistic giants – I found this site:

The Algonquin Legends of New England, by Charles G. Leland, [1884], at sacred-texts.com

The Story of the Great Chenoo, as told by the Passamaquoddies (pp. 247-248)

What the Micmacs call a Chenoo, is known to the Passamaquoddies as a Kewahqu’ or Kewoqu’. And this is their origin. When the k’tchi m’téoulin, or Great Big Witch, 1 is conquered by the smaller witches, or M’téoulinssisk, they can kill him or turn him into a Kewahqu’. He still fights, however, with the other Kewaquiyck. When they get ready to fight, they suddenly become as tall as the highest trees; their weapons are the trees themselves, which they uproot with great strength. And this strength depends upon the quantity or size of the piece of ice which makes the heart of the Kewahqu’. This piece of ice is like a little human figure, with hands, feet, head, and every member perfect. (page 247)

The female Kewahqu’ is more powerful than the male. They make a noise like a roaring lion (pee’htahlo), but sharper (shriller) and more frightful. Their abode is somewhere in Kas mu das doosek, in some cold region in far Northern Canada.

In summer time they rub themselves all over with poo-pooka-wigu, or fir balsam, and then roll themselves on the ground, so that everything adheres to the body, moss, leaves, and even small sticks. This was often seen of old by Indian hunters“.


When they get ready to fight they grow as tall as the highest tree? Not knowing what species of tree all I can assume is the Micmacs of Nova Scotia and Northeastern Maine were referring to the Eastern Cottonwoods which can grow up to 23 meters high or 75 feet! Sounds ridiculous, right? And YET, Hanuman-ji and Sun Wukong are often depicted as being 100 feet in height when battling demons!

Now I know this sounds like a far left hand turn off an interstate while traveling 80 miles an hour from the middle lane BUT what is it with the Japanese fascination with giants? And what special effects were used in this film for the military parade?

Here is a longer clip. Stop before the fellow claims it’s authentic footage. It’s NOT. It’s CGI.

But the idea that one can grow tall to battle monsters seems to have some primal Jungian collective unconscious appeal.

I became hooked on the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers Season 1. Never got much past that. Now I know why!

The history of the show is really fascinating but the point I want to make is the monsters grew to the size of skyscrapers and thus the Power Rangers needed to leap into robots to fight them. DINOSAUR themed robots no less! Gozilla anyone?

I‘ve ordered the book. It just shipped this morning but it will probably not arrive until October. Can’t wait!