 Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. Welcome, Weirdos. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. Coming up in this episode, North Carolina's great dismal swamp is full of horror stories, but the worst might be the fact that the swamp appears to swallow people alive. A weeping man called the police to tearfully apologize for murdering his victims, but that didn't stop him from continuing to kill, again and again. In Hindu culture, it is believed if certain post-death rituals are not conducted on those who've passed away, the deceased's family would not prosper and there would be misfortunes aplenty. One family in Bhutan had to learn that the hard way. An apparent incident involving a gigantic cigar-shaped UFO somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean in May 1963 wasn't reported for almost twenty years when a witness to the event finally came forward through a written letter of the incident. In a beautiful little town in North Wales, children ran through the graveyard searching for little men with big eyes and long ears. They were searching for strange fairy folk, the brownies of Bangor. A local killer Ed Gein was caught and arrested for his crimes in November of 1957, but that didn't mean Gein's neighbors would see the end of his influence on their lives. But first, four people take a trip to France and stay at a hotel that appeared too good to be true, because it was. If you're new here, welcome to the show. And while you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, my newsletter to enter contests, to connect with me on social media. Plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression or dark thoughts. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness. Some slips, suddenly finding yourself in a much earlier era, is an interesting Fortian phenomena. Unfortunately, the ephemeral nature of these alleged experiences usually makes it virtually impossible to confirm or refute the validity of these claims. Did someone really, through a way we can't come close to understanding, visit a much different time and place? Or is that our collective legs being pulled? That's usually up to you to decide when I share these kinds of stories here on Weird Darkness. This uncertainty is particularly frustrating with the following tale, which, if true, would amount to one of the most astonishing adventures on record. In October 1979, two couples, Len and Cynthia Gisby and Jeff and Pauline Simpson, left their homes in Dover, England for an end-of-summer road trip. They would ferry across the channel and spend two weeks driving through the countryside of France and northern Spain. The excursion progressed in a pleasantly uneventful fashion. On the night of October 3rd, the travelers were on the freeway north of Montmartre, France, looking for a place to spend the night. Before long, they came across a motel that looked promising. Unfortunately, when the E-Forcem went inside, the staffer they encountered in the lobby, a man in an unusual plum-colored uniform, informed them that there were no vacancies. However, he said that if they took a certain road off the freeway, they'd find a small hotel. He was sure that this establishment would have rooms. The party had no trouble finding the road. They were interested to see that it was lined with old buildings, plastered with posters advertising a curiously vintage-looking circus. The road itself also seemed from another era, cobbled and narrow, clearly not built for the automobile. After a short time, they came across the only building that they had seen on this road, which showed signs of life. It was brightly lit with some men standing outside. However, after inquiring inside, they learned this was not a hotel, but an inn. So on they went. They eventually found two other buildings, one a police station and the other sporting a large sign reading, Hotel. It was, for our modern era, an unusual-looking hotel, only two stories tall and with a decidedly old-fashioned look. But the place looked decent and the two couples were too tired to be fussy about it. They were relieved when, as the motel employee had promised, they were able to get rooms there. As none of our four travelers spoke French and the manager spoke no English, communication was necessarily limited. But the foursome made themselves understood enough to be shown to their lodgings. They noticed that the inside of the hotel was even more anachronistic than the outside. Everything was made of old-looking heavy wood. The dining room tables had no tablecloths. They did not see any telephones, elevators or anything else to remind them that this was the year 1979. The rooms were in keeping with the rest of the hotel, barge, heavy beds and bolsters instead of pillows. The doors had only wooden catches for locks. They were just wooden shutters over the windows, not glass. The bathroom, shared by the foursome, had vintage plumbing. Still, the rooms seemed clean and comfortable and the outdated feel of the place gave it a quaint charm. It was certainly a novel experience. After unpacking, they went to the dining room where they were served a simple, but satisfying meal of eggs, steak and potatoes, washed down with longer. After such a meal, the four had no problem settling down in their rooms for a long, untroubled sleep. The next morning, the travelers returned to the dining room where they had a breakfast of bread, jam and thick, strong coffee that they found virtually undrinkable. As they ate, they noticed that the other guests looked as oddly retro as the hotel itself. Opposite them was a woman wearing a silk evening gown and carrying a small dog under her arm. Two gendarmes came in wearing curious uniforms unlike any other that they had seen in France. The travelers, enchanted by the strangeness of it all, decided they needed a memento of their visit. Jeff photographed Pauline standing by the windows, while Len took a picture of Cynthia inside the hotel. He took an additional photo of the hotel itself. After their picture-taking, Len and Jeff tried to ask the two gendarms how to take the freeway to the Spanish border, but the policemen, clearly puzzled by the Englishman's terminology, just gave classic Gallic shrugs. Finally, the Frenchman comprehended that the visitors wished to go to Spain and told them to use the old Avignon Road. Len and Jeff knew enough of the local area to think this was an unnecessarily roundabout way of getting to their destination. They decided, instead, to retrace the way that they had come to the hotel in order to return to the Montemar Freeway. When the two couples were ready to leave, Len went to the manager to pay their bill. He was flabbergasted to see that he was being charged only 19 francs or about $3 in 1979 U.S. dollars. Certain that the manager did not understand, Len endeavored to communicate to him that he was asking for the bill for all four of them, four people who had eaten meals there. In response, the manager just continued to nod. Len showed the bill to the two gendarmes, seeking confirmation. They just smiled, yes, yes, that was the correct amount. The cobbled little road was just as deserted of other traffic as it had been the previous night. They had no trouble finding their freeway and went on to spend a very pleasant two weeks roaming around Spain. On their way back across France, our tourists decided to make another stop at this same hotel. You certainly couldn't beat the prices. They found the turn-off and drove down the cobbled road with the buildings promoting the same circus. It was definitely the same road, except the hotel was gone. Puzzled, the travelers went to the motel by the freeway to ask for directions. The employee they questioned had never heard of any such hotel and they had never had anybody working there who wore a plum-colored uniform. This was all getting way too weird. The two couples drove along the cobbled road several times desperately trying to find the hotel, but it was as if it had evaporated, leaving no trace behind. One of the four suggested that it had been demolished. Certainly, at the rates they charged, the establishment couldn't stay in business for long. But Jeff pointed out that it would be impossible for the building to vanish completely in a mere two weeks. The shaken and confused couples finally gave up and found lodging at a hotel in Lyon, which cost them a very modern 247 francs. The four travelers were puzzled by what had happened, but they assumed that there had to be a rational explanation. At least, that was what they assumed, until the photographs that they had taken on their vacation were developed. The three snapshots of the hotel were in the middle of the roles of film used by Jeff and Len, but none of those images came back from the developers, even though each role of film had its proper amount of photographs. The negatives of those hotel shots had not been defective, they had just disappeared as thoroughly as the hotel itself. Now more confused than ever, the Gisbees and the Simpsons resolved to tell no one of their adventure outside a family and close friends. A friend of Len's who was an amateur fashion historian pointed out to him that the odd uniforms the Gendarmes had worn matched the description of those used by the French police in the very early 1900s. Another confidant suggested that they'd experienced a time slip and, without knowing it, spent the night at a hotel that had not existed for decades. While the Gisbees thought there might be something to that theory, the Simpsons opted to just put the whole strange affair behind them. Jeff and Pauline did not get their wish. Word of their story reached a reporter at their local newspaper. In 1982, she published a story about their alleged brush with the weird, and before the two couples knew it, they were famous. From that day to this, paranormal researchers have scrutinized the case. It is now amongst the most well-known time slip stories, but it is, of course, impossible to come to any definitive conclusions. In 1985, Jeff Simpson told paranormal investigator Jenny Randalls, who subsequently wrote an article about the mystery for Fate magazine, you tell us what the answer is. We only know what happened. So, either the Simpsons and the Gisbees had the vacation that could truly be called out of this world, or these two middle-aged, seemingly sane couples pulled off an epic hoax. It is impossible to say for sure which is the case. Either way, it is a heck of a good story. When Weird Darkness Returns In Hindu culture, it is believed if certain post-death rituals are not conducted on those who have passed away, the deceased's family would not prosper, and there would be misfortunes aplenty. One family in Bhutan had to learn that the hard way. Also, in a beautiful little town in North Wales, children ran through the graveyard searching for little men with big eyes and long ears. They were searching for strange fairy folk, the brownies of Bangor. Plus, serial killer Ed Gein was caught and arrested for his crimes in November of 1957. But that didn't mean that Gein's neighbors would see the end of his influence on their lives. These stories and more still to come. Do you keep a journal or diary? If not, maybe you should consider it. It has been shown that journaling can help you reduce stress, help relieve depression, build self-confidence, it boosts your emotional intelligence, helps with achieving goals, inspires creativity and more. In fact, my friend S. N. Lenees has created a Weird Darkness-themed journal just for you. Full of blank pages for you to use as a diary, make notes for class or office meetings, jot down ideas for that novel you want to write. Use it for keeping a mileage long if you travel for business, whatever you want. In fact, she has numerous styles of journals to choose from. Along with the Weird Darkness journal, there is one for dealing with grief or teachers' notes for medical residencies, keeping track of your meds or health routine, and several others. Journals make a great gift for others, but it is also a great gift for yourself and your own mental health. No matter what you might want a journal for, my friend Ann has it. And you can see all of our journals, including the one for Weird Darkness on the sponsors and friends page at WeirdDarkness.com. There follows a peculiar little story from 1909, which has certainly not gotten the attention it deserves from ferriests or from students of mass hysteria. Bangor, for those outside the UK, is a pretty town in north Wales. Brownies, meanwhile, are solitary ferries, typically associated with houses in the north of England and parts of Scotland, not Wales. Note, though, that the word had already been popularized by the late 1800s, above all by the appalling twee, Juliana Horatio Ewing, who lent the word to Baden Powell, who used it for his Girl Guide movement. In any case, back to Bangor and let's travel to the cemetery there. This is an extract from the Manchester Guardian newspaper. Bangor people probably never realized before that the town contained such a number of children as were visible about eight o'clock, gambling and shouting in both fear and delight in a disused cemetery in the middle of the town. The attraction, a correspondent writes, was a story which spread among the juveniles, though their elders had heard nothing of it to the effect that little men with big eyes and long ears had been seen playing amongst the tombstones. And with one accord, the children in hundreds trooped gaily to the cemetery and searched eagerly for the brownies. Needless to say, none of the fairies was seen, but the children with shrieks and cries searched every nook and corner of the old cemetery, peeping fearfully around every tombstone and under the dark yew trees. At last, the din became so great that the police had to chase the children out of the enclosure. This extract appeared in the Manchester Guardian on May 19th of that year, and it would be better to have a North Walesian version to rely on. For example, was the word brownie really used by the Bangor children or is this a Mancunian gloss? Note, the brownies were not traditionally found in Manchester either. There is also the rather unusual description of big eyes. Of course, folklore has lots of creatures with eyes as big as saucers and, more curiously, those long ears. However, the single most fascinating thing here is the striking parallel with a famous leprechaun case from Liverpool in 1964. June 30, 1964, children, number unspecified, saw little men, numbers variable, in Jubilee Park near that vortex of northern necrotism, the bowling green. Quite what the children saw has been much debated. White hats on the little men were noted as were their antics in throwing sods at each other. What is documented is that very rapidly the little men were interpreted by the press as being leprechauns. Leprechauns are, of course, an Irish solitary ferry known for shoemaking and vast wealth. Beach's daughter recently shared with him the insight that the leprechaun might be rich because he sells lots of shoes. Legend claims that if you grab and hold a leprechaun, you will be able to claim the Fey's treasure. So, was the word leprechaun just a reflex word picked up by a local journalist? Leprechaun are always male. The connection might have been as simple as that. Or do we have here third-of-fourth-generation Irish children living the stories told them by their grandparents and great-grandparents? And in either case, was this all hysteria. Beach's belief system requires him to nod sagely here. But some modern Liverpoolians have memories. Make what you will of the following two. I was one of the school children that saw those leprechauns. I attended Bray Street School, and we all saw them popping in and out of a window overlooking the schoolyard. There were about four of them, all tiny, dressed like a schoolbook idea of a typical gnome, and they sat swinging their legs on the window ledge, getting in and out. What they were, I don't know. I only know what they looked like. I'd love to know the truth. I certainly remember leprechauns, and I actually saw a few of them on Kensington Fields close to the library, but my parents and other adults tried to convince me that I'd been seeing things. This would be one afternoon in early July 1964, around 4.30pm, and I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was 10 at the time and on my way to play football with my mates, and saw these little, I'd say, just a few inches tall men dressed in red and black, standing in the grass looking at me. I'm sure one of them had some type of hat on. I panicked and ran all the way home. My mom said that there had been reports of leprechauns and little men on Jubilee Drive and Edge Lane the day before. That same evening, crowds turned up on Jubilee Drive, and I remember a girl with a jam jar that she was going to put the leprechauns in. By the first, the word was spreading among the little folk, the children, that is, not the fairies, and swarms descended on Jubilee Park to see for themselves. It was all too much for Irish Parks Constable James Nolan. I don't believe in leprechauns myself, he said. He called in the city police. Police in cars and motorcycles arrived. They cleared the hundreds of youngsters from the bowling greens, the reported playground of the wee folk, closed the gate and stood guard. But beyond the bowling green gates, the youngsters milled, tiny tots to 14-year-olds. They crammed the top of the covered reservoir for a better view of the bowling green. Tolerant bobbies wandered about trying to get the youngsters on the move, but the kids would not believe that there were no little green men. It was not until after 10 p.m. that the park was finally cleared. How the story started was not known, but it lasted two nights. And how did those little brownies who helped the Irish housewife with their chores come to arrive in Liverpool? Maybe they flew from Old Ireland. A woman resident in Crosby reported seeing strange objects glistening in the sky whizzing over the river to the city from the Irish Sea. The Crosby UFO and perhaps the green men can be dismissed. They both sound like a journalist's fugue. But by July 10, rumour had come to nearby Kirby where children believed that there were fairies in the churchyard of St. Chad's there. It took 10 days and the intervention of clergy and policemen to get the children out from among the graves. Beach wonders very vaguely if the hunting element, children with jam jars and by some accounts air rifles, were responding to the idea of capturing the leprechauns to get their treasure. Beach should end by noting that rational explanations have been offered up, as they always are in these cases. There is the circus school that claims that the leprechaun scare began with a household of travelling midgets. There is the James Nolan school that claims that Nolan, the park constable, set up the rumour mill as a prank. Evidence includes the testimony of a colleague. Then there is the diminutive gardener Brian Jones who may have set off the leprechaun fever and who claimed as much in a Liverpool newspaper in 1982. In any case, the Liverpool Kirby kerfuffle would make a great final chapter for a book of modern fairy. Even after police arrested 51-year-old Ed Gein on November 17, 1957, his playing field Wisconsin neighbors likely failed to realize that their lives would never be the same again. While Gein had a reputation for being a weird loner, he was still regarded as generally harmless. In fact, he often served as an occasional babysitter for many of the families living near the 168-year-old farm where Gein had been living alone since the death of his mother Augusta in 1945. While one local boy tried to tell his family about the collection of shrunken heads that he'd once seen in Gein's farmhouse, people generally dismissed what he saw as yet another of Ed's crazy pranks. If neighbors were put off by his fascination with taxidermy, they largely kept that to themselves. But after police discovered the body of local hardware store owner Bernice Warden in a shack connected to Gein's farmhouse, they soon discovered more about their quiet neighbor. Much more. Though the Gein farmhouse was largely dilapidated, Ed only lived in two small rooms and the rest of the house was sealed off, police kept making bizarre discovery after bizarre discovery as they searched the farmhouse and surrounding grounds. Not only had the headless body of Bernice Warden been strung up by her heels, they also found cereal in a bowl made from a human skull, lampshades and waste baskets formed from human skin, a shoebox filled with the sexual organs of women, a belt with human nipples attached, a loose collection of noses and a human heart. But their most grotesque discovery was of a woman suit made from the sewn together skins of Gein's various victims, which he would later admit to wearing to make himself feel as if he had breasts and female genitalia. All told, police found the remains of 11 women though Gein would only confess to murdering two of them, Bernice Warden and a second woman, Mary Hogan, who'd gone missing some time earlier. The other bodies had been taken from the local cemetery, something that came as an unpleasant revelation as the fellow townspeople had no idea that the graves of their loved ones had been desecrated. Police had trouble believing that Gein could have stolen the bodies undetected. To bolster their case, they took him to the Plainfield Cemetery to show them which graves had been opened. This would be a controversial move when it came out. Prosecutors quickly charged Ed Gein with first-degree murder for the deaths of Bernice Warden and Mary Hogan, but any hope the locals had of avoiding publicity ended when news of what police found at the Gein farm hit the newspapers. Ed Gein and Plainfield, Wisconsin became household names with curiosity seekers descending on Plainfield from across the country. Many of the locals grudgingly gave media interviews, but most of them hoped that things would blow over in time. As for Ed Gein, he was assessed by doctors at the Central State Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Wappen, Wisconsin, now the Dodge Correctional Institution, and soon diagnosed him as a sexual psychopath. They also recommended that Gein be kept in the hospital for the rest of his life. Even as prosecutors and defense attorneys wrestled over the question of Gein's sanity, a battle of another kind was already taking place elsewhere. When an auction house offered up the contents of Ed Gein's house at a public sale, thousands of people from all over the country came to Plainfield to acquire souvenirs. Even before the auction began, the auction house offered tours of Gein's house and farm for 50 cents apiece. Though the outraged families of Gein's victims tried to stop the sale, it still went ahead as scheduled. The farm itself was sold to a local real estate dealer who announced plans to turn the property into a tree farm. As for the 1949 truck that Gein used to cart bodies to his farm, it was sold to junk dealer Chet Sales for $215. While Sales told reporters that he would keep the truck as a souvenir, he later sent the truck on tour with the Carnival Circuit where it was billed as Gein's Google Car. It would be a familiar sight at Carnivals for years afterward. Considering the simmering anger that the people of Plainfield had over the industry that had sprung up around Gein and his crimes, nobody was really surprised when the local volunteer fire department was called to a fire at the Gein farm on March 20, 1958. While no one took credit for setting the fire, just about everyone in town, including the firefighters, simply stood and watched as the sinister house burned to the ground. And so, with Ed Gein in the hospital where he would remain for the rest of his life and the last physical trace of his life in Plainfield gone up in flames, his former neighbors must have felt some hope that the butcher of Plainfield would be slowly forgotten. And that might actually have happened, had it not been for Robert Albert Bloch. Already well known for his work in crime, horror and fantasy, the Wisconsin-born Bloch had been living in nearby Waiowiga when Ed Gein's crimes were revealed and he followed the case with more than professional interest. Bloch had long been fascinated by abnormal psychology and he had already written several stories about killers with disassociative identity disorder known as multiple personality disorder in those days. Drawing on his research into Ed Gein's life as well as some related cases, Bloch wrote a book that would be forever associated with his name, Psycho. Published in 1958, Psycho told the story of Norman Bates, a motel owner-operator who was also an amateur taxidermist with an abnormal fascination with his mother. Still, while Bloch had no hesitation about depicting Norman as a murderer, it likely says a lot that the bizarre psychosexual urges that inspired Ed Gein were carefully omitted. Bloch knew his audience. To be fair, Bloch never claimed that his book was based exclusively on Gein, but rather on the idea that he represented, a mass murderer living undetected and unsuspected in a typical American town. Since its publication, Psycho has since been recognized as one of the great horror classics of the 20th century and, not surprisingly, generated renewed interest in Gein and his crimes. But the book gained even greater fame when director Alfred Hitchcock managed to secure the film rights for a modest sum, largely by using a fake name, something which Bloch would complain about the rest of his life. While the eminent director faced major opposition in getting funding for a full Hollywood production over such a controversial project, he managed to produce the film for a modest $800,000 by using the production crew from his then television show. The screenplay, which was faithful to the book, carefully downplayed any suggestion that Norman Bates was a sexual psychopath like Gein. Filmed in black and white due to limited funding, Psycho, released in 1960, was a hit from the very beginning and made a star of Anthony Perkins playing Norman Bates. Even with lukewarm reviews by critics, some of whom condemned it as a gimmick film, Psycho proved to be one of Hitchcock's most profitable productions and has since been recognized as a movie classic and one of Hitchcock's most memorable films. The film appeal came from its shock value, largely because Hitchcock managed to defy censors trying to enforce the motion picture production code that had been enforced in Hollywood for decades. While the code was already fraying badly by 1960, the film's bold portrayals of sexuality and violence, including the controversial shower scene, helped open the floodgates to a host of copycat films that attempted to trade on Psycho's success. This meant the introduction of splatter films, which largely focused on violence and gore rather than the bizarre sexual aspects of Ed Gein's crimes. It would still take decades for Hollywood to catch up with Ed Gein, with films such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 1974, and Silence of the Lambs in 1991. As for Ed Gein himself, he seemed quietly unaware of how his crimes had influenced American culture. By all accounts, he was thoroughly content with his new life at the Central State Hospital. A model inmate, he never required sedation or restraints, and he spent his time reading books, chatting with staff and other patients, and carrying out his chores without complaint. Aside from his disturbing habit of staring at female staff and avoiding them whenever possible, Gein's life seemed idyllic until his death from cancer on July 26, 1984. He was buried between his mother and brother in Plainfield Cemetery, not far from the graves he had desecrated decades earlier, which must have horrified the families involved. Along with the films he helped inspire, Ed Gein continues to fascinate true crime buffs, many of whom still descend on Plainfield, seeking out physical traces of his crimes. While the remains of his abandoned farmhouse and the hardware store where Bernice Warden was murdered are still accessible, visitors to Plainfield, seeking out Gein's grave, might be surprised to find that it is now unmarked. The 150-pound tombstone that used to mark the site was stolen in 2000, and despite being later recovered by police, it was never returned to the cemetery and has been kept in the basement of the Plainfield Police Department ever since. There is still though a noticeable hole on Gein's grave site, where visitors often steal dirt as a souvenir, but little else though to mark the existence of Plainfield's most notorious resident and the man whose crimes inspired some of Hollywood's most memorable movie monsters. In December 2019, the ghost returned from its hideout to terrorize the Ghali family of Sambeck in Sangosholing, Samsa in Bhutan. A barrage of stones land on the roof every now and then, family members have been hurt. A shaman had visited Sabir Ghali's house to conduct ghost-beating rituals. The quiet did not last, however. The next day, December 4, Sabir's mother, Maan Kamari Ghali, 75, was hit with a stone on her temple. Khadgar Singh Ghali, a neighbor and a relative, rushed to the scene. Maan Kamari's grandson, Sunil Ghali, Sabir's son, was hiding behind the altar, trembling with fear. An eerie quiet followed, Khadgar Singh Ghali said. Kamari's gathered seven stones that came straight her way. A huge, flat stone is landed on the edge of the roof. A crowd is gathered. They wait for the stone, but it doesn't come. It all started on the night on November 19, 2019. Sunil Ghali, 15, was with his grandfather, Bhagalal Ghali, 76, in a makeshift hut with cattle far from home in the woods. At around 7pm when they were sleeping, stones hit the roof of the hut. It would not stop and continued through the night. They made way to a relative's hut nearby, but the pelting continued, so they went to a nearby village for the night. I went to the grazing land next day, Sabir Ghali said. The pelting started at 3.30pm. I was shocked. Sabir and his son stayed at the hut until 5pm that day and went to their relative's hut. Pelting continued with bigger stones this time. They had to run home. Something was chasing us. It followed us all the way, he said. The next day, Sabir was accompanied by his father, son and wife. The pelting started at noon. The following day it started at 7am. One time, when Sabir Ghali was in his patty fields, Sunil called. His son was unconscious with an injury to his head. Sunil said the pots and pans went flying out in the open. I saw it with my eyes. It was terrifying, he said. People began to notice something about this affair. The pelting happened wherever the 15-year-old Sunil was. One time Sunil was running from market with his uncle in a Bolero. The windows were closed. There were people in the vehicle. Stones hit Sunil even inside the vehicle. The Bolero driver, Tandon Dorje, attested to it. There were several stones in his vehicle when they reached home. A shaman was invited to figure out what was behind all this. A stone hit him and he left to invite his master instead. After news reached the Sanghosholingguug office, 10 monks at an Iyam were also sent to Sambak to conduct rituals. There were more than 40 people in the Ghali home, but to everyone's disbelief, stones kept falling on the roof. Sherbah Adour Ghali, 30, a shaman, lives in Sipsu. After the ritual, he had informed the family that stone pelting would return. I told them to conduct the rituals three times, but they failed to come, he said. Sherbah Adour Ghali had never seen something like this before. Before he was invited, the Ghali family had sent one of the stones to his place. He still has the stone at his home in Sipsu. This stone sparked and became like a magnet when I put it on a bronze plate for a ritual, he said. Then I knew there was something wrong and decided to go to Sambak. Sherbah Adour Ghali said behind all of this is Sabir's great-grandfather. The shaman began narrating the story from four generations ago. He was a great shaman, but had renounced shamanism to become a sadhu, Sherbah Adour said, adding that he could not become an accomplished sadhu. When he died, his family had not conducted the death rites properly. That is why he is haunting his family. In Hindu culture, people often conduct rituals and offerings in the name of their dead ancestors. It is believed that if rituals like these are not conducted, that particular family would not prosper and there would be misfortunes aplenty. The Ayyam also said that a great shaman in the family had died in the past and rites were not performed. Shaman Sherbah Adour Ghali said, I will have to do this the shaman way to set him free. The Ghali family also has a budding shaman among them. Sunil dropped out of school after it was discovered that he had these special powers. He would suddenly go in a trance-like state. Village coordinator, Qad Qasunj Ghali, said the size of the stones that came flying would sometimes kill a person. He said stones falling on the roof when the monks were conducting rituals inside the house was scary. I am yet to understand what it is, he said. Coming up, North Carolina's great dismal swamp is full of horror stories, but the worst might be the fact that the swamp appears to swallow people alive. But first, an apparent incident involving a gigantic cigar-shaped UFO somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean in May 1963 wasn't reported for almost 20 years when a witness to the event finally came forward through a written letter of the event. That story is up next. What kind of person does it take to build a civilization from the ground up? Astronaut Nick Burke will have to learn how to be a leader if he wants humanity to survive on a new planet, even if he himself is no longer human. Nick Burke dreams of successfully creating the first sustainable space colony in human history. After a third failed mission on Mars, Nick returns to Earth heartbroken. But during the trip home, he has an epiphany caused by a near-death experience on how to truly accomplish his dream. Nick launches a billionaire-funded startup company that solves the interstellar travel problem, transporting people in a spaceship without any people aboard. After Nick lands on his new distant planet, he has to combat his greatest trials yet, including raising children and goats while becoming a colony-building survivalist. Fans of Andy Weir's The Martian and Dennis E. Taylor's We Are Legion, We Are Bob will find familiar themes of innovative science fiction ideas with plenty of humor and pop culture. The hard science fiction novel Seed by Matthew G. Dick, narrated by Darren Marlar. Here are free samples on the audiobooks page at WeirdDarkness.com. An apparent incident involving a gigantic cigar-shaped UFO somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean in May 1963 would remain unreported for almost 20 years until the editorial team behind Flying Saucer Review magazine received a letter in late 1980 from the witness to the affair. Part of the reason the witness left the incident unreported for so long was simply that the witness had very little knowledge of UFO reports, as well as the fact that she found the entire episode terrifying. Only after reading about the subject purely by chance did she begin to realize just how extraordinary the incident was. Although the incident is not one of the most exciting on record, it is another incident that has a connection with such official organizations as NATO, North Atlantic Treaty Organization, who have a small plethora of UFO accounts attached to their name. If we assume these strange crafts are piloted by intelligent beings from another world, would it make sense that they would take an interest in such key organizations? The details of the witness have been withheld from the public domain. We know that she is female and from a country in Western Europe that are members of NATO and was married to an Englishman at the time that she gave the report. According to investigators at Flying Saucer Review, she is an incredibly credible witness, meaning in turn that the account is likely equally credible. They would eventually release details of the encounter in their November 1981 edition, Volume 27 No. 3. It is from that report that we base the following account on. Just what did the witnesses see that day somewhere in the North Atlantic? And for what reason were these apparent visitors here in the first place? According to the witness, the following incident took place in the first or second week of May 1963. The witness was a NATO employee in the capacity of an English language secretary normally based in Paris, France. On the day in question, she was part of 50 NATO employees who were about to board a flight to take them to Ottawa in Canada for NATO ministerial meetings. It was around 10 am when the DCA left the runway at Orly Airport in Paris. The weather was perfect with clear visibility as the pilot took the plane to just over 35,000 feet. The witness recalled that there appeared to be a feeling of military control on the plane that day, although the fact that there was only 50 NATO staff on board the plane had appeared decisively empty. Because of this, passengers had an array of seats to choose to settle down in for the majority of the journey. The witness chose to sit next to one of the windows, which she recalled was a lot larger than a standard commercial airliner window. It was as she was preparing to settle down in her seat with a book with the cold waves of the Atlantic Ocean below them that she noticed a strange object below. She would describe it as something dark and absolutely tremendous. What's more, it stood out in vivid contrast to the brightness of the early afternoon sky. When she moved her face as close to the window as possible so as to get a closer look, she would see the object appeared to be a gigantic, dark grey torpedo. She would elaborate that the object appeared menacing and frightening as she continued to watch it. She continued to observe the strange object for several minutes. She was unable to see any wings, windows, or any apparent propulsion systems or engines, although she would describe what she believed was the back of the object as cut off sharply and squarely. The witness would estimate the object was around 6,000 to 7,000 feet below them. She watched it for several more moments until it disappeared into the clouds. She suddenly looked around the plane. It appeared she was the only person who had noticed the strange object below. She would debate with herself whether to mention what she had seen. However, she feared that they would not believe her. As she sat back into her seat, she began to ponder whether the object had any connection to nuclear weapons. Although she would indeed remain quiet for the time being, she resolved that she would speak to a colleague in Paris with expertise in nuclear matters. However, as she would later reveal in her report, she would decide against mentioning the incident. It was while she was considering these things that the plane suddenly began to shudder and pitch up and down violently. Although she told herself that this was just normal turbulence, she knew that she had not experienced anything as intense or as prolonged as this disturbance appeared to be. And what's more, she couldn't shake the feeling that the disturbance to the flight was due to the object that very well might still be below them. She would begin researching what the object might have been. She would do this privately before finally issuing her report to UFO Magazine in 1980. It is unfortunate that there were no other corroborating witnesses to an otherwise intriguing account. And while this is something that skeptics to such accounts will use to their advantage, aside from the apparent credibility of the witness, as well as the credibility of those behind the one-time UFO publication, the fact that the account is not overblown or dramatic in any way would suggest it to be authentic. And it is certainly possible that there were other witnesses on the DC8 that afternoon. It is also equally possible and plausible that they too opted to keep deciding to themselves in the belief that they were the only person to have seen the strange object. As we've mentioned before, there are very likely a whole host of UFO sightings that go unreported simply because the respective witnesses fear being labeled crazy or being called a liar. What perhaps makes this account credible is the details that show up in other similar UFO reports, not least the shape of the object itself. While a great many UFOs are disc-shaped or even triangular, a great many sightings of cigar-shaped objects can also be found in the mountain of UFO reports. What's more, so can the detail that there appeared no obvious source of propulsion. What's also interesting and often overlooked is the fact that the incident occurred over the water. Many UFO sightings occur on or near water, and at least according to your researcher Gordon Crichton, many of the objects witnessed over the seas and oceans of the planet are cigar-shaped craft. Might this be to do with their potentially aquatic environment? Perhaps such a shape would likely cut through the water all the easier. What the connection between such craft and water is, however, remains a mystery. Whatever the object was that the witness saw from her plane seat that afternoon over the Atlantic Ocean, we know the details offered are very much in line with other sightings, both before and since. And undoubtedly, there will be other sightings, both in the contemporary era or from years ago that have yet to surface, which will also likely contain similar details. Should we take this incident as credible? Considering the people involved with the Flying Saucer Review Magazine, we should perhaps state yes, and that such a mysterious craft, or more specifically, the intelligence behind it, should take an interest in a NATO military plane is perhaps not too surprising to many in the UFO community. For example, during the latter months of the Belgian Wave, there was an increased NATO presence in the region, and there are multiple accounts on record of UFO sightings and incidents during NATO training exercises. Might we even consider that the strange craft was not of extraterrestrial origin at all, but a secret world military craft, one which discreetly made the journey under the cover of the NATO flight? Admittedly, this is pure speculation here. With all of that said, all we can do with the account is leave it on our mental backburners, ready to bring it to the forefronts of our minds when we spot similarities with other incidents. Or indeed, if further witnesses suddenly step forward to tell their version of events. On the border of North Carolina and Virginia, there is a swamp. To call this swamp unholy might be a stretch, but the stories that bubble up from this region are far from sanctimonious. Even the settlers who named the swamp seemed aware of such malignant evil festering in this boggy wilderness. They named it the Great Dismal Swamp, and the name is stuck. There are all sorts of horror stories about these eerie wetlands, those brave enough to enter the mire risk being lost, vanishing without a trace. You might be accosted by ghostly lights in the park, or stumble onto a graveyard that isn't on any map. The fen is said to be the home of half-living witches and Native American curses and darker entities may roam the reeds. Are you brave enough to tread the mirey ground of the Great Dismal Swamp? You better be, because the swamp is ready for you. People have definitely passed on in the Great Dismal Swamp, but you don't have to be deceased to accidentally end up in the swamp's most notorious graveyard. As the legend goes, there is a graveyard in the swamp that only appears to those who have lost their way. Explorers looking for the graves won't find them, they can only be discovered by those not explicitly searching for them. Some believe this is the work of benevolent spirits, trying to warn the lost that they have strayed away from their path. The graveyard is not locked to one location and can theoretically appear anywhere in the swamp as long as a lost soul is in the area. Creepy stories may be true or false, but you can't argue with the facts. According to the park manager, the swamp has a long history of swallowing up explorers. People enter and just seem to vanish, and it's not entirely clear why. It might be part of the nature of the swamp, as there are those who say the swamp is a habit of making one confused and frightened. It's easy to get lost and near impossible to find your way again. One story about William Drummond, a colonial prisoner after whom the swamp's Lake Drummond is named, entered the swamp with a large hunting party. History tells us the group got lost, and after several days in the wilderness, the only person to emerge alive was Drummond himself. If you think the swamp is creepy during the day, just wait until night falls. The great dismal swamp is known to get extremely dark at night, so much so that park officials have gone on record to caution people about it. A park manager described nighttime in unequivocal terms. It's pitch black, dark. It's scary dark. The park is closed at night for obvious reasons, but it's open during the day to anyone brave enough to explore it. The great dismal swamp is home to many legends and myths, including the sad tale of the Lady of the Lake. This native myth refers to a young bride-to-be who passed on shortly before her wedding. Her suffering soul now resides in the swamp, paddling a white canoe aimlessly through the marshes. During the dark nights, she can be seen by the light of her lantern. Inside the lantern is said to be a collection of fireflies she uses to light her way. Reports of lights are common throughout the area, leading some paranormal enthusiasts to believe the Lady of the Lake might actually be real. You don't have to be captured by a ghost to disappear in the great dismal swamp. It's a treacherous place, even for those survivalists who know what they're doing. Snakes, bears and other wild animals call the swamp their home. Even the water itself is lethal, as parts of the swamp are much deeper than they seem. It's possible to get stuck in a boggy mire and find yourself unable to crawl out of the water. Many people have drowned over the years, adding fuel to the fire that this swamp is haunted. The great dismal swamp is purportedly so haunted that even the animals are spooky. There are plenty of ominous rumors about the swamp, but that hasn't stopped hunters from taking their chances anyway. There are stories that say even the most successful hunters can go home empty-handed when preying upon the animals of the swamp. Wounded and deceased animals are said to vanish without a trace, leaving hunters confused and perturbed. Stories of bears and deer being shot only for the hunters to find no hint of the animal, not even blood, are common. This would be related to the story of the cypress trees in the swamp, as legends tell that some animals can transform into these trees when pursued by hunters. There are quite a few terrifying tales about the swamp that were passed down from native cultures. One such story centers around a mysterious cypress tree along the shores of Lake Drummond. There are at least two different versions of the tale, but both tell of a creature fleeing from vicious predators. In one telling, the story follows a deer being chased by hunters. While the deer ran in terror through the swamp, the swamp decided to intervene. It turned the deer into a tree, leaving the hunters confused. They halted the chase, but the deer was forced to remain a tree forever. The other version of this story is about a witch coming across a group of hunting dogs in the swamp. She teased the animals, but they quickly turned on her. They chased her into the lake, and as a last-ditch effort, she turned herself into a tree. Unfortunately, she was unable to reverse the trick. One of the most widely reported phenomena in the Great Disabled Swamp is the appearance of ghostly lights at night. Even today, reports of lights are fairly common from those brave enough to enter the park after dark. There are all sorts of explanations for these lights, including the Lady of the Lake in UFOs. While these eerie explanations are great for campfire stories, the real reason behind the lights is likely rooted in science. There are three leading theories about the origin of the swamp lights. The first is Foxfire, a bioluminescent phenomenon that occurs when wood is decomposed by certain species of fungi. The second explanation is that methane gas from decomposing plant matter would occasionally ignite and create transient flashes of light. The last explanation, smoldering peat moss, is responsible for the lights. The eerie tragedy of the Lady of the Lake is a haunting tale, one that inspires a lot of emotions. Famed writers Edgar Allan Poe, Edward Goree, and Thomas Moore were all so taken by the story, they decided to create their own renditions in tribute. Moore's poem, A Ballad, the Lake of Disabled Swamp, captured the ghostly essence of the swamp so well it instigated a flood of tourists visiting the region. His version suggests the Lady of the Lake's lover took to the swamp in grief to search for her, only to become lost himself and reunite with his lost love on the other side. Here is Moore's poem, A Ballad, The Lake of the Disabled Swamp, by Thomas Moore, written at Norfolk in Virginia. They made her a grave too cold and damp, for a soul so warm and true, and she's gone to the Lake of the Disabled Swamp, where all night long by a firefly lamp she paddles her white canoe. And her firefly lamp I soon shall see, and her paddle I soon shall hear, long and loving our life shall be, and I'll hide the maid in a cypress tree, when the footstep of death is near. Away to the Disabled Swampy speeds, his path was rugged and sore, through tangled juniper beds of reeds, through many a fen where the serpent feeds, and man never trod before. And when, on the earth, he sunk to sleep, if slumber his eyelids knew, he lay where the deadly vine doth weep, its venomous tear, and nightly steep, the flesh with blistering dew. And near him the she-wolf stirred the break, and the copper snake breathed in his ear, till he starting cried from his dream awake, Oh, when shall I see the dusty lake, and the white canoe of my dear? He saw the lake, and a meteor bright, quick over its surface played. Welcome, he said, my dear one's light, and the dim shore echoed for many a night, the name of the death-cold maid. Till he hollowed a boat of the Birchen Bark, which carried him off from shore, far, far he followed the meteor spark, the wind was high and the clouds were dark, and the boat returned no more. But oft, from the Indian Hunter's Camp, this lover and maid so true, are seen at the hour of midnight damp, to cross the lake by a firefly lamp, and paddle their white canoe. Gory worked on adapting Moore's poem into an opera, but passed before it could be completed. Edgar Allen Poe's poem, The Lake, was featured in the collection Timerlane and Other Poems. It's a short poem, so I'll share it here as well. In youth spring it was my lot, to haunt of the wide earth a spot, the which I could not love the less, so lovely was the loneliness, of a wild lake with black rock bound, and the tall pines that towered around. But when the night had thrown her paw, upon that spot as upon all, and the wind would pass me by, in a stilly melody my boyish spirit would awake to the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, but a tremulous delight and a feeling undefined, springing from a darkened mind. Death was in that poisoned wave, and in its gulf a fitting grave, for which who thence could solace bring to his lone imagining, whose solitary soul could make, an Eden of that dim lake. The swamp has a long and complicated history with humans. It was originally inhabited by Native Americans, but with the era of colonialism came great changes. One of the most significant changes was the arrival of slaves from Africa, and the Great Disable Swamp became massively important to them. It became a wilderness refuge for escaped slaves, and they set up hidden communities in the mire. Living off the land, they were able to thrive away from their colonial masters. They were known as Maroons. Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote about them in her novel, Dread, A Tale of the Great Disable Swamp. I'll place a link to that novel in the show notes. When Weird Darkness returns, a weeping man called the police to tearfully apologize for murdering his victims. But that didn't stop him from continuing to kill again and again. I'll tell you about the Weepy Voice Killer coming up. Hey Weirdos, how would you like to receive a box full of scary stuff in the mail full of fear-inducing objects like creepy collectibles, true crime-themed accessories, frightening flair, blood-curdling books, terrifying trinkets, eerie e-downloads, and more. Absolutely free. Every other month, I'm filming an unboxing video of the newest creepy crate that I get in the mail, then I'm boxing it all back up and giving it away by random drawing to someone subscribed to the Weird Darkness email newsletter. And before I close up the box for good, I might toss in a couple of Weird Darkness goodies as well for good measure. You can keep the creepy crate for yourself or give it away to a weirdo friend or family member. To watch my latest creepy crate unboxing video and to register to win a creepy crate of your own for free, visit WeirdDarkness.com slash creepy crate. That's WeirdDarkness.com slash creepy crate. Between the end of 1980 and August of 1982, three women were murdered and two others attacked in Minnesota's Minneapolis, St. Paul area. The assaults turned out to be the work of the same man, a shadowy figure who contacted the police himself after most of his crimes, begging them to stop him before he killed again. I just stabbed somebody with an icepick. The high-pitched voice sobbed into the phone. I can't stop myself. I keep killing somebody. His tendency to call police and tearfully confess his crimes led authorities to dub the assailant the Weepy Voiced Killer. But who was he and what drove him to commit these heinous deeds only to express such emotional remorse afterward? Born in 1944, Paul Michael Stefani was the second of ten children, raised in what's been described as a highly religious household. He made his way to St. Paul, Minnesota in the mid-1960s where he variously worked as a shipping clerk and a janitor. He was employed at Malberg Manufacturing Company before being fired in 1977. Three years later, his first victim was found near the machine shop at Malberg Manufacturing. Stefani was married for a time and fathered a daughter before getting divorced. Over the course of less than two years, Stefani killed three women and brutally assaulted two others. Each time, with one exception, he called the police afterward to tearfully confess to his crimes, though never giving them his name or any other information that could identify him. In the calls that led the media to dub him the Weepy Voiced Killer, Stefani apologized for his crimes and begged police to stop him. I couldn't help it, Stefani said in one of his calls to the police. I don't know why I had to stab her, I'm so upset about it. At three o'clock in the morning on New Year's Eve 1980, police received the first ever phone call from the Weepy Voiced Killer, though they didn't know that at the time. All they knew was that a nearly hysterical, high-pitched voice directed them to a spot near the Malberg Manufacturing Company machine shop off Pierce Butler Road because there was a girl hurt there. Police found a gruesome scene when they arrived there. 20-year-old Karen Potik was lying naked in the snow. She'd been bludgeoned more than 10 times with a tire iron. The beating so bad, it cracked her skull and left her brain exposed, yet she somehow survived. Potak had come into St. Paul for a New Year's Eve party with her sisters, but had left the party around midnight. She wandered around the city intoxicated until she had the misfortune to cross paths with Stefani. However, the damage from her assault was so severe that she was left with multiple brain injuries and couldn't identify her assailant. For now, the Weepy Voiced Killer was free to stalk more victims. Tragically, the Weepy Voiced Killer's other victims weren't so lucky. In 1981, 18-year-old Kimberly Compton got off a bus in St. Paul, Minnesota. Within hours, she was dead, stabbed with an ice pick more than 60 times. Stefani called police multiple times after the murder of Compton. Two days after her death, he called to say that he was sorry and that he would be turning himself in. But he never did. The next day, he called to correct some of the media coverage around the attack. Then on June 11, eight days after the brutal murder, he called the police again and in a barely coherent voice cried, I am sorry for what I did to Compton. Sorry or not though, Compton wasn't the Weepy Voiced Killer's last victim. In July of 1982, 33-year-old Kathleen Greening was found drowned in her own bathtub at her home just outside St. Paul. At the time, police didn't connect Greening's death with the Weepy Voiced Killer. The attack was much less brutal than the others laying and no phone call was made following her death. Then in August, Barbara Simons met Stefani at Hexagon Bar when she offered him a cigarette. Stefani offered her a ride home. Unfortunately, that ride would be her last. A newspaper carrier found Simons body alongside the Mississippi River the next morning. She'd been stabbed more than 100 times. Shortly thereafter, the police received another phone call. Please don't talk, just listen, the now familiar voice of the Weepy Voiced Killer said. I am sorry I killed that girl. The police now had a description of Stefani, thanks to eyewitnesses linking him with Simons on the night of her death. However, he wasn't brought in just yet. Instead, he picked up Denise Williams, his final victim on August 21. They met on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis, where he offered her $100 to have some fun. Williams, a 19-year-old sex worker, rode with Stefani to his apartment in St. Paul, where they engaged in a sex act before he offered to drive her home. Williams would later state that she realized something was wrong when Stefani eschewed the freeway in favor of back roads through suburban neighborhoods. When they reached a dead end, Stefani began stabbing Williams with a screwdriver before she was able to bash him over the head with a glass bottle that she found on the floor of the car. Her screams drew the attention of a neighbor who confronted Stefani before the killer fled the scene. Upon arriving home, Stefani realized that he was injured quite badly and called the St. Paul Fire Department for medical assistance. Authorities recognized his voice as that of the Weepy Voiced Killer, and Stefani was finally brought into custody. Paul Michael Stefani was convicted of the murder of Barbara Simons and the attempted murder of Denise Williams. Though his own sister and ex-wife testified in court that they believed Stefani's voice matched that of the Weepy Voiced Killer, there simply was not enough evidence to conclusively link him to the other attacks. He received a sentence of 40 years in prison. In 1997, Stefani was diagnosed with skin cancer and given only about a year to live. With the diagnosis functionally a death sentence, Stefani told authorities that he wanted to confess to his other crimes and apologize to the families of the victims. To this day, I can't believe it, Stefani said of the murders he committed. I wake up in the morning thinking and hoping I'm dreaming all this. It was only when Stefani confessed that any connection was made between the Weepy Voiced Killer and the drowning death of Kathleen Greening, which had gone unsolved for over 15 years. In all, Stefani confessed to three murders and two vicious assaults. I don't know what to do except say I wish I could turn back the clock, the Weepy Voiced Killer said in his confessions. The next year, Paul Michael Stefani, who had caused so much pain and havoc, was dead from skin cancer at the age of 53. So did Paul Michael Stefani truly regret his crimes or were his tearful phone calls to police and the media just in attention seeking ploy? We may never know, but Stefani insisted his apologies were genuine. All I can say is I'm sick and I'm sorry, Stefani said before he died. If sorry means anything after 15 years. Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters or unsolved mysteries like you do. And please leave a rating and review of the show and the podcast app you listen from. Doing so helps the show to get noticed. You can also email me anytime with your questions or comments through the website at WeirdDarkness.com. It's also where you can find all of my social media, listen to free audiobooks I've narrated, shop the Weird Darkness store, sign up for the email newsletter to win monthly prizes, find other podcasts that I host, and find the Hope in the Darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression or dark thoughts. Plus, if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, you can click on Tell Your Story or call the Darkline toll-free at 1-877-277-5944. That's 1-877-277-5944. All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes. Selling Ed Gein was written by Romeo Vitelli for Providencia. Swallowed Alive in Great Dispel Swamp is by Eric Louise for Graveyard Shift. The Weepy Voiced Killer is by Oren Gray for the lineup. The Hotel Out of Time is from Strange Company. The Atlantic UFO of 1963 is by Marcus Louth for UFO Insight. The Stoning Ghost of Somback was written by Rahesh Rai for Kunsell Online. And The Brownies of Bangor is by Dr. Beachcombing for Strange History. Again, you can find links to these stories in the show notes. Weird Darkness is a production and trademark of Marlar House Productions. Copyright Weird Darkness 2022. And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. Ephesians 4, Verse 29. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And a final thought. Begin every day with gratitude. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness. 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