Art Bell

[jazmunda]

As to spooky baby monitor stories when I told my wife about my sister's story she reminded me of her cousin's story from about 10 years back of insisting that she heard a lady humming on her baby monitor and when she checked on her daughter no one was there. It never happened again.

[Étouffée]

Coming soon...

[PrairieGhost]

As to spooky baby monitor stories when I told my wife about my sister's story she reminded me of her cousin's story from about 10 years back of insisting that she heard a lady humming on her baby monitor and when she checked on her daughter no one was there. It never happened again.

It could of been Sasquatch!

[SaucyRossy]

No other stories from me. The title baby monitor update just referred to the jokes we were having about Art's show appearing everywhere including baby monitors.

My wife claims that a door in that house once slammed as she was about to close it (ie: she was about to pull it towards her to close it) and when she tried to open it it wouldn't open no matter how hard she pushed. Frightened she went downstairs and waited til I came home from work. She told me the story and I nervously went up stairs and opened the door first try.

My call into Spooky Matter about my daughters imaginary friend referred to my current house. Stay tuned for an update on that .....

Oh yeah the imaginary friend!!! So weird.

[Never2Late]

I propose an "Art's Bad Back" thread.  Or perhaps just "Bad Back" in general, so as not to focus exclusively on Art's personal affairs.  As we all know, aside from keeping us all updated on his well-being, which we appreciate, Art's said again and again that he'd rather not discuss it, due to the belief that we'd all be bored to death.  I suspect also that he's just tired of complaining about it.  I've certainly reached that point at times with my own physical issues.  But there seems to be a lot of people here with that shared, albeit maddeningly unique, experience who want to share what they know, or their story, or their secrets, or whatever. It could also give Art an outlet, if he so chooses, to bitch and moan as he sees fit, where he's pre-approved to do so, and in the company of people who get it.  But mostly for others to share what they feel they must.

Just an idea.   

[Bounder]

No baby monitors, very probably the wrong thread, but â€" inspired by jaz â€"


I lived on the upper story of a former Victorian kindergarten.

For the first seven years of my life I assumed that drawers opening and closing, footfalls plodding heavily and whispery nattered conversation were normal nighttime sounds. 

My room was reached through a hidden, mirrored door in the school’s old dance hall.  Of course, it was the coldest in the house.

One night I felt particularly panicked, couldn’t sleep.  About midnight I shot out of bed and splashed my face with water.  When I looked into the medicine cabinet mirror, there was my face, but superimposed over my eyes were two swirling embers like lit cigars.

I slowly worked past my paralysis and spun around, to run.  Just before I’d made 180 there came a piercing noise â€" my faucet turning on, by itself.

I bolted all the way to my parents room at the other end of the house in about five seconds flat.

A few nights later, I had another fitful night.  As a child, I was (as many) a junior naturalist and collector.  My room had become a minor Hermitage of Stuff, impeccably organized.

I woke to the sound of someone trying to come into my room.  My dad â€" blocked by a barrage composed of everything I had arranged so neatly on my desk â€" now hurled onto the floor, trashed.  Destroyed.

When I was cleaning up, I checked on my Alligator lizard in the terrarium across the room.  He’d been cut neatly in half.

The grand finale:

My sister, her friend and I were the only ones home late at night (ages 7-9).  I forget where our parents were â€" some Saturday night event.

The house was a scary place to be, so we slept in the same room.  As soon as the lights were turned off:

a hideous, pained, male voice screamed out of the darkness.  It was followed by indistinct whispered words â€" sentences.

We bolted out of the bedroom.  The living room TV â€" the source of the sound â€" had turned on by itself and was madly scanning across the channels, pausing briefly enough at each to stitch intention into the chaos â€" single word-bits forming awful phrases . . . mostly gibberish but spiked by moments of terrifying clarity.  ( . . . hissssssss . . . . fzzzzzzzzz . . . I WAS . . . DEAD . . . csshhhhhhhh).

Long before cell phones, we tried our parents one by one.  My sister’s friend’s parents picked up â€" and at the moment the call went through, the TV stopped.

As soon as the connection was cut, THE TV STARTED UP AGAIN.

Right until about two minutes before my sister’s friend’s mom showed up.

The best part about this story is its

EPILOGUE

In classic movie fashion â€" do these places still exist? â€" my dad had the TV taken to a “TV Repair” shop.  It came back with a note: "We could find nothing wrong."

[CantFindTVRemote]

No baby monitors, very probably the wrong thread, but â€" inspired by jaz â€"


I lived on the upper story of a former Victorian kindergarten.

For the first seven years of my life I assumed that drawers opening and closing, footfalls plodding heavily and whispery nattered conversation were normal nighttime sounds. 

My room was reached through a hidden, mirrored door in the school’s old dance hall.  Of course, it was the coldest in the house.

One night I felt particularly panicked, couldn’t sleep.  About midnight I shot out of bed and splashed my face with water.  When I looked into the medicine cabinet mirror, there was my face, but superimposed over my eyes were two swirling embers like lit cigars.

I slowly worked past my paralysis and spun around, to run.  Just before I’d made 180 there came a piercing noise â€" my faucet turning on, by itself.

I bolted all the way to my parents room at the other end of the house in about five seconds flat.

A few nights later, I had another fitful night.  As a child, I was (as many) a junior naturalist and collector.  My room had become a minor Hermitage of Stuff, impeccably organized.

I woke to the sound of someone trying to come into my room.  My dad â€" blocked by a barrage composed of everything I had arranged so neatly on my desk â€" now hurled onto the floor, trashed.  Destroyed.

When I was cleaning up, I checked on my Alligator lizard in the terrarium across the room.  He’d been cut neatly in half.

The grand finale:

My sister, her friend and I were the only ones home late at night (ages 7-9).  I forget where our parents were â€" some Saturday night event.

The house was a scary place to be, so we slept in the same room.  As soon as the lights were turned off:

a hideous, pained, male voice screamed out of the darkness.  It was followed by indistinct whispered words â€" sentences.

We bolted out of the bedroom.  The living room TV â€" the source of the sound â€" had turned on by itself and was madly scanning across the channels, pausing briefly enough at each to stitch intention into the chaos â€" single word-bits forming awful phrases . . . mostly gibberish but spiked by moments of terrifying clarity.  ( . . . hissssssss . . . . fzzzzzzzzz . . . I WAS . . . DEAD . . . csshhhhhhhh).

Long before cell phones, we tried our parents one by one.  My sister’s friend’s parents picked up â€" and at the moment the call went through, the TV stopped.

As soon as the connection was cut, THE TV STARTED UP AGAIN.

Right until about two minutes before my sister’s friend’s mom showed up.

The best part about this story is its

EPILOGUE

In classic movie fashion â€" do these places still exist? â€" my dad had the TV taken to a “TV Repair” shop.  It came back with a note: "We could find nothing wrong."

Incredible. How long did you live in the house afters these experiences? Did your parents experience any of this? Did you move because of these encounters? I must have answers!!  This is not just a " shadowy figure in the corner" type of deal.

[ponyboysunset]

Sorry but you have to work your way up the ranks like the rest of us.
You start out in the Earwig Army.

Fitting General, since I live in Michigan, which is like Earwig f'ing central.

[onan]

Fitting General, since I live in Michigan, which is like Earwig f'ing central.

I'm organizing the Coastal Carolina Midge Aerial Reconnaissance Battalion.

[jazmunda]

Obviously I will be one of the grunts in the Dung Beetle Infantry.

[serenity]

Fitting General, since I live in Michigan, which is like Earwig f'ing central.

Well, you could join the Browncoats. We do aim to misbehave............

[Marc.Knight]

I propose an "Art's Bad Back" thread.  Or perhaps just "Bad Back" in general, so as not to focus exclusively on Art's personal affairs.  As we all know, aside from keeping us all updated on his well-being, which we appreciate, Art's said again and again that he'd rather not discuss it, due to the belief that we'd all be bored to death.  I suspect also that he's just tired of complaining about it.  I've certainly reached that point at times with my own physical issues.  But there seems to be a lot of people here with that shared, albeit maddeningly unique, experience who want to share what they know, or their story, or their secrets, or whatever. It could also give Art an outlet, if he so chooses, to bitch and moan as he sees fit, where he's pre-approved to do so, and in the company of people who get it.  But mostly for others to share what they feel they must.

Just an idea.   

How about just "Art's Back" and cover his return and his inhibitor.

[MV/Liberace!]

Can I be your roommate?

as long as you don't eat all of my heinz ez squirt purple colored ketchup.  the last guy was practically bathing in the stuff.

[Bounder]

Incredible. How long did you live in the house afters these experiences? Did your parents experience any of this? Did you move because of these encounters? I must have answers!!  This is not just a " shadowy figure in the corner" type of deal.

We moved about four years after the TV incident, when I was 12.

There were many other inexplicable episodes . . . I'm sort of disappointed I did not know about or have access to a Ouija board.  The results might have been illuminating.

I'm a hardcore skeptic but this and several other events â€" at the periphery of my life â€" prevent the door from slamming completely shut.

[DocHolliday]

We moved about four years after the TV incident, when I was 12.

There were many other inexplicable episodes . . . I'm sort of disappointed I did not know about or have access to a Ouija board.  The results might have been illuminating.

I'm a hardcore skeptic but this and several other events â€" at the periphery of my life â€" prevent the door from slamming completely shut.

[FightTheFuture]

I'm organizing the Coastal Carolina Midge Aerial Reconnaissance Battalion.

LMAO I'm all in down here in Dirty Myrtle.

[trust_no_one]

We moved about four years after the TV incident, when I was 12.

There were many other inexplicable episodes . . . I'm sort of disappointed I did not know about or have access to a Ouija board.  The results might have been illuminating.

I'm a hardcore skeptic but this and several other events â€" at the periphery of my life â€" prevent the door from slamming completely shut.

I am generally a skeptic, too.  But the idea of using a Ouija board scares me.  Too many stories about opening doors to the demonic and priest/exorcists saying to "never touch one". 

Anyone here have any real world experience with that ?  Scary. . .

[WOTR]

Stay tuned....

Did you pay your royalties due upon using this trademarked phrase?

[nika01]

Its been awfully quiet in here lately

[PrairieGhost]

I'm still here just been working a lot. I'm mostly lurking as I work.

[YNOT]

As to spooky baby monitor stories when I told my wife about my sister's story she reminded me of her cousin's story from about 10 years back of insisting that she heard a lady humming on her baby monitor and when she checked on her daughter no one was there. It never happened again.

Could it be angels?

[chefist]

I was surprised that C2C still has "Somewhere in Time with Art Bell"...I thought they had purged him completely from their history!

[albrecht]

I was surprised that C2C still has "Somewhere in Time with Art Bell"...I thought they had purged him completely from their history!

No, they are going to milk all they can get from Art still. In my market they even run commercials with JBW for C2C, in addition to the old SIT shows,- and he was fired/left many months ago! They know they might get some listeners to the crappy show by bait-and-switch tactics. You think you are going to get Art (or heck even JBW) and you get Norry. And listeners to the old SIT shows because they are good.

[Heather Wade]

I am generally a skeptic, too.  But the idea of using a Ouija board scares me.  Too many stories about opening doors to the demonic and priest/exorcists saying to "never touch one". 

Anyone here have any real world experience with that ?  Scary. . .

I used to live in an old Victorian house, well over 100 years old.  Yeah, weird stuff happened, but at least none of my pets were ever cut in half.     Doors opened & slammed shut so much, I took them off the hinges & put 'em in storage.  Lights blinked, the telephone loved to dial 911 in the middle of the night, which really pissed off the cops, and electronics turned on and off with no rhyme or reason.  More often than not, I felt that 'being watched' feeling.  I loved that house, but was relieved when I moved to live without all the strange activity.

But, I have played with the Ouija countless times, even Ouija's that I made by hand, and still have yet to have The Devil knock on my door. 

Hearing others' stories of strange activity is cool, though.  Keep 'em coming.  (Do with that what you will, pervs  )

[phrodo]

I propose an "Art's Bad Back" thread.  Or perhaps just "Bad Back" in general, so as not to focus exclusively on Art's personal affairs.  As we all know, aside from keeping us all updated on his well-being, which we appreciate, Art's said again and again that he'd rather not discuss it, due to the belief that we'd all be bored to death.  I suspect also that he's just tired of complaining about it.  I've certainly reached that point at times with my own physical issues.  But there seems to be a lot of people here with that shared, albeit maddeningly unique, experience who want to share what they know, or their story, or their secrets, or whatever. It could also give Art an outlet, if he so chooses, to bitch and moan as he sees fit, where he's pre-approved to do so, and in the company of people who get it.  But mostly for others to share what they feel they must.

Just an idea.   

Prepare to be called a sycophant for suggesting such a thing by the incredulous empty-headed-skull Davebot troll.   :

[nika01]

Prepare to be called a sycophant for suggesting such a thing by the incredulous empty-headed-skull Davebot troll.   :

Forewarned is forearmed . She isnt so clever anyway

[jazmunda]

Hearing others' stories of strange activity is cool, though.  Keep 'em coming.  (Do with that what you will, pervs  )

That's what she ....... wait a minute. Reported. I'll wait for MV's response off the air.

[jazmunda]

I was surprised that C2C still has "Somewhere in Time with Art Bell"...I thought they had purged him completely from their history!

They can't exactly replace it with the Best of George Noory. Dead air is one of radio's deadly sins.

[Evil Twin Of Zen]

Its been awfully quiet in here lately

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0jCWFsM1Vc

this forum is soon to become an even greater hub of Art Bell activity in a couple of months. buckle up.

[Northcoaster]

as long as you don't eat all of my heinz ez squirt purple colored ketchup.  the last guy was practically bathing in the stuff.

Ok, but only because I wanna ride your coattails.