 Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. It may seem as if the wastelands of the deserts are completely devoid of life. With their never-ending expanses of bleak scrub and sand dunes, this all appears as if it must be a barren realm that might as well be on another planet. Yet not only does life thrum here behind the scenes, eking out a living in these badlands, but there are also quite a few reports of mysterious creatures from here of a surprisingly humanoid nature. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Welcome, Weirdos. This is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. If you're new here, welcome to the podcast and be sure to subscribe so you don't miss future episodes. If you're already a Weirdo, please share the podcast with others. Doing so helps make it possible for me to keep creating episodes as often as I do. Coming up in this episode… In 1803, London was seized by pure terror as sightings of a macabre-looking ghost haunted the area of Hammersmith. It would eventually end in bloody murder and set a legal precedent for crimes committed in self-defense. To this day, a police notice stands on the wall inside 50 Berkeley Square that proclaims that the upper floors cannot be used for any purpose. May all who see it heed its warning. Weirdo family member Cassie Murphy relates what happened when she took her young daughter sightseeing in a ghost town. No other epidemic or pandemic has claimed as many lives as the Spanish flew, not even the Black Death in the 14th century, AIDS in the 20th century, or COVID-19 in the 21st century. But a hundred years later, why have we forgotten the deadliest pandemic in history? Strange creatures have been reported being seen in deserts all around the world, creatures almost but not quite human-like. What are they? And how do they survive in these barren wildernesses? We'll begin with that story. While listening, be sure to check out the Weird Darkness website. At WeirdDarkness.com you can sign up for the newsletter to win monthly prizes, find paranormal and horror audiobooks I've narrated, watch old horror movies for free, 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. One of the most bizarre and unsolved cases of a desert humanoid creature of some sort is an enormous beast that has come to be known as the Yucca Man. The tales seem to originate in the 1960s in the vicinity of the 29 Palms Military Base located in the Mojave Desert of Southeastern California and Southern Nevada. Here, in this remote, desolate location, there would be a series of events that has remained unexplained for decades and which hints at some sort of desert roaming humanoid entity. The first sighting that really put the phenomenon on the map allegedly occurred in 1971 when a marine from the base who was on guard duty reported hearing something out in the desert scrub, which sounded like heavy breathing from some very large creature, as well as grunts and growls seemingly circling his guard station. When he warily went out to investigate, expecting to see some wild animal, he claimed to have been confronted with a gigantic 8-foot-tall hairy ape-like creature with glowing red eyes. In some versions of this account, the marine is knocked down by the beast, only to awaken hours later and find his rifle twisted and bent like a pretzel. This would be far from the last time anyone would hear of this strange creature, with frequent reports of dogs going haywire and of hikers encountering a fetid stench beginning to come in at a steady rate in the following years. And there was a spate of such odd occurrences at Joshua Tree National Park throughout the early 70s, with numerous campers telling of a large beast rummaging through their campsites and even attempting to open their tents, as well as park employees telling of sighting monstrous man-like forms prowling the desert that were estimated as being up to 12 feet tall. There were also massive footprints found and several indistinct, predictably blurry pictures of the creature or creatures were taken. Such sightings made their way into several Southern California news publications at the time and one June 1973 report from the Antelope Valley Daily Ledger Gazette described the creature and some reports thus. The creature likes to run around houses and leave footprints, that is its MO in the East Lancaster area where footprints were found around several houses recently. One woman reported that the creature ran around her house and scratched at the door. A small boy sent to tell his father supper was ready was found hours later crying near the corral. When asked what happened to him, he answered that a big furry man would not let him pass. In that year, 1973, there were many sightings of the creature in the area of Lancaster in the western Mojave Desert in California, such as a sighting made by three separate marines and other disparate witnesses as well. It got to the point where in this year there was a near tragedy when two search parties were out bigfoot hunting in the wake of the mysterious reports and almost opened fire on each other. Sightings continued and in 1979 there was an account given by an elderly couple who claimed that the beast had stepped right out in front of their car to tower over the vehicle before lumbering off into the night, leaving enormous tracks behind. In that same year, there were two additional sightings from Hemat, California of a massive 10-foot tall creature that left behind footprints a foot and a half long. Around this time there was a string of sightings of all sorts of strange phenomena near the Edwards Air Force Base, about 22 miles northeast of Lancaster. Here there were numerous reports of base personnel sighting hulking humanoid figures in the dark, which allegedly used a series of underground tunnels to move about. Oddly there were many purported UFO sightings in the area at the same time, but whether or not this has any connection is unknown. One of the more far out reports from the base was collected by Bigfoot researcher Edwards Bobby Ann Slate and concerned one of the creatures that apparently had bright blue eyes. The report was given by a base policeman who said, heading back to the main base I noticed maybe 200-300 yards to my left, these large blue eyes. I do a lot of night hunting and it was strange. They were larger than anything I had ever seen before. The blue eyes had to be about 4 inches apart and 7 feet off the ground. I stopped the truck and sat there watching them. It was too dark to see any body shape to the thing. The blue glows proceeded toward my truck at a right angle for about 100 yards and stopped. The movement of the eyes was extremely fast. Another thing that bothered me was that they didn't bob up and down. It was like the two lights on a wire moving from one point to another. This particular creature, nicknamed blue eyes, has apparently been regularly seen by base police and has been widely discussed amongst them right up to the present. Several other personnel at the remote desert base at the time also came forward to anonymously report that large, bigfoot-like creatures had been routinely spotted through night vision equipment skirting the perimeter of the base, often with red glowing eyes walking through it or even venturing into the many underground tunnels in the area. The witnesses explained that the presence of the creatures was officially classified and that they had been specifically ordered not to fire upon them. There had allegedly been several instances of catching the creatures on surveillance cameras at the base, but this footage was labeled as classified and never released to the public. It is not even necessarily bigfoot-like creatures that have been seen, as there are reports of indistinct shadow men and even shape-changing entities from the base, as well as what seemed to be just disembodied glowing eyes. What's going on here? Also from Southern California are more modern reports of some sort of hair-covered semi-bipedal creature with glowing red eyes that has been seen loping or running along at high speeds along Highway 14 and which has come to be called the Sierra Highway Devil. Another odd red-eyed humanoid monstrosity from the same area is what has come to be called the Cement Monster, named for its appearance at a concrete mine near Big Bear Lake, owned by the Mitsubishi Cement Corporation. In 1988, the beast was seen by two U.S. Marines who were on their way home from a skiing trip to the area when they saw the creature looming over an abandoned strip mine in the area. One of the witnesses, Ken Cross, would tell researcher Douglas E. Trapp thus. From the left side of the road, something very large seemed to stand up on two legs and run across the road. The bottom half looked human, covered with hair. The top half wasn't very visible, but appeared monstrous, scary in other words. The headlights only got the bottom half, and the damn thing ran out about 150 feet in front of us. It made it across the road in three strides. I distinctively remember seeing the arms pumping back and forth just like any of us would do if sprinting across the road in front of a car. It appeared to be eight feet tall. In the sunscorched, burning wilderness of a place called Borrego Sink, 45 miles southeast of Borrego Springs, California, there have been reported terrifying encounters between man and mystery beast. The desert may seem to be a strange place to find Bigfoot, but not only have they been reported in this savage wasteland, but they seem to be of a rather aggressive variety, especially the ones that have come to be known as the Borrego Sasquatch. One such incident occurred in 1939 when a man was camping alone in one of the many dry gulches of the area. The man was awoken in the middle of the night by a band of two-legged, hairy creatures stalking about his camp on the fringes of the camp fires light. The beasts were described as having white or silver fur and possessed piercing red eyes that glowed in the dark. The pack of creatures circled the camp medicinally for some time but seemed to be somewhat afraid of the fire and kept their distance until they finally slunk off back into the desert. Thirty years later, in the same region, a man by the name of Harold Lancaster had his own frightening encounter as he was camping in the sink. Lancaster described how an enormous, hair-covered bipedal creature stalked out of the wilderness and lumbered straight towards him in an intimidating manner. The man, fearing he was about to be attacked, fired his revolver into the air in an effort to scare the monster away. Whatever the creature was, the gunshots did the trick and the thing reportedly jumped around three feet into the air before glaring at Lancaster and running off into the brush. Borgo Sink is not the only place in the desert with its share of ominous man beasts. In a place called Dead Man's Hole, located seven miles from Warner Springs on Highway 79, a string of vicious, unsolved murders occurred back in the 19th century that have long been blamed on a malicious, marauding Sasquatch. In 1858, the first victim was killed under mysterious circumstances, followed by more slayings over the years, a Frenchman who was slaughtered in his cabin, a prospector named David Blair who was killed by what looked like a knife attack, and a woman named Belinda who was strangled and mutilated. The story may have just been chalked up to an insane killer on the rampage had it not been for a curious story that surfaced in 1888. Two hunters were out hunting in an area known as Dark Canyon when they came across a cave full of the scattered remains of various mutilated animals. As they investigated the cave, the hunters reported being attacked by a huge, man-like beast covered in matted black hair with huge hands and feet. According to the hunters, they opened fire on the beast and killed it, after which its body was apparently moved to San Diego and shown to police. At the time, a paper called the San Diego Union ran the story and claimed that the rampaging mystery creature had been the one responsible for the murders, causing quite a public stir in the process. Oddly, the paper ran the story the following day, dismissing the article as a mere April Fools joke. It is unknown if there was ever really a body, or if the creature really existed, but what is known is that the mysterious murders still remain unsolved. Another strange case involving some sort of humanoid creature comes from the deserts of the Mexican state of Chihuahua. At the end of 1989 and the beginning of 1990, a group of teenagers were on a mission to explore the caves of a place called Cerro Pajorito, when they came across something that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. As the group was exploring one of the caves, they came upon the discovery of a dead deer and a doe that were freshly killed and exhibited three odd perforations on their necks that formed a triangular pattern. In the surrounding area, there were footprints that looked like those of a puma, but it soon became apparent that no puma had done this. The group suddenly heard blood curdling squealing sounds and the air became pervaded by a stench described as smelling like burning wood. The terrified group of teenagers looked and saw a hunched over humanoid figure crouched upon a rock outcropping about 15 meters away from them. The creature apparently started bounding toward them and one from the group emptied his pistol at it, although the bullets seemed to have no effect. As the panicked group turned tail and ran for dear life, they reported passing yet another humanoid creature that was described as being metallic green in color and standing only 80 centimeters high. What could this have possibly been? Nobody knows. The desert is indeed a very isolated domain of intense natural beauty and solitude. Anyone who has been there can attest to that. There is just something about these places that holds to it a certain mystique and allure that is hard to pinpoint and there are vast mysteries lurking here. What are these humanoid entities that we have looked at here? How or why do they manage to remain in this forbidding landscape? Are these cryptids, some sort of desert Sasquatch? Are they ghosts, demons, interdimensional travelers or something else? No one knows and they serve to add to the allure of these oft forgotten and avoided places. Up next. In 1803, London was seized by pure terror as sightings of a macabre looking ghost haunted the area of Hammersmith. It would eventually end in bloody murder and set a legal precedent for crimes committed in self-defense. Plus, to this day, a police notice stands on the wall inside 50 Berkeley Square that proclaims that the upper floors cannot be used for any purpose. May all who see it heed its warning. These stories and more when Weird Darkness returns. I'd like you to meet the newest member of our Weirdo family. Meet Syjak, a female arctic wolf. While visiting the Wild Animal Sanctuary in Kingsburg, Colorado, Robin and I fell in love with the place and their mission to save the lives of animals from abuse and neglect. I immediately felt drawn to Syjak upon seeing her and decided to adopt her in the name of Weird Darkness. Syjak was born in a safari park that couldn't care for her, but the Wild Animal Sanctuary steps in to save Syjak and other wild animals from private owners and less than ideal living conditions. Syjak now has a lifelong home in a large acreage, natural habitat near other wolves. Wild Animal Sanctuary has saved numerous other wild animals from abuse and neglect – lions, grizzlies, tigers, panthers and more. Visit WildAnimalSanctuary.org to learn more, donate to the sanctuary and maybe adopt an animal of your own like we have with Syjak. That's WildAnimalSanctuary.org. Through November and December of 1803, London was seized by pure terror. The Hammersmith District had been plagued with sightings of a macabre-looking ghost. Every night reports of a malevolent apparition flooded the police station. According to most accounts, the specter was determined to frighten anyone nearby. It was described as wearing a white shroud or calfskin and having large, glassy eyes. One of the most alarming encounters concerned an elderly woman and her younger, pregnant friend. The two women were allegedly so scared upon seeing a ghost, they died a fright in their beds a few days later. Another sighting occurred and caused a wagoner to lose control of his horses. His 16 passengers were injured. Finally, a brewer named Thomas Groom claimed to be strangled from behind while strolling through a churchyard. After grappling with his assailant, Groom turned around in time to see the ghost vanish behind a row of tombstones. Local speculation eventually traced the ghost to the restless spirits of a man who had slashed his own throat 12 months prior. As a suicide case, his soul was unable to rest peacefully, so the theory went. But skeptics in the village believed they were being victimized by a prankster and quickly formed a vigilante group. On December 29, members of the group, including night watchman William Girdler, spotted a shrouded figure lurking about the area. The group gave chase. Halfway into their pursuit, the figure dropped his shroud and escaped. Four days later, everything changed. Thomas Millwood, a 32-year-old plasterer, was returning home along Black Lion Lane on the evening of January 3, 1804. Having just come from his parents' home, Millwood was still wearing his white work clothes, an apron, waistcoat, and trousers. One of the vigilantes named Francis Smith spotted Millwood and immediately shouted, Damn you! Who are you and what do you want? I'll shoot you if you don't speak. Without waiting for a response, Smith fired two gunshots, one of which hit Millwood in the face, killing him instantly. Hearing the shots from her house, Ann Millwood called out her brother's name in the street, but did not get an answer. She ran into the direction of Black Lion Lane and found him sprawled across the ground, covered in blood. Once it became evident that Millwood was the victim of a mistaken identity and that Smith had fired his gun in haste, Smith surrendered to police. Millwood's body was taken to the Black Lion Inn and examined by a local surgeon, where it was confirmed that a bullet wound to the lower left jaw and subsequent spinal damage had been the cause of his death. Two days later, a man named John Graham came forward and admitted to being the Hammersmith Ghost. Graham stated that he'd created the ruse to scare his apprentices who had been frightening his children with ghost stories. Still, his reasoning did not explain why unrelated people had been attacked. Unsure about how to deal with him, the judges granted him bail while they deliberated. No records of further legal action against Graham exist. At a coroner's inquest, Francis Smith was deemed responsible and sent to New Gate Prison to await trial. A week later, Smith pled not guilty despite admitting to firing the shot. Because no one had actually witnessed the shooting, there was a greater burden of proof on the prosecution. Smith compounded his plea by justifying his actions as self-defense. Several character witnesses attested to Smith's good standing. Surprisingly, Millwood's mother-in-law, Phoebe Fullbrook, testified that Millwood was aware of the Hammersmith Ghost and that she had warned him against wearing white clothing in the street night. She further testified that he ignored her suggestion. After a lengthy analysis of the facts, the Lord Chief Barron leaned toward conviction. He reminded the jury that Smith was not acting in self-defense and that the shooting was not accidental. Taking this into account, the jury found Smith guilty of manslaughter. But the Lord Chief Barron would not accept the verdict. Instead, two additional judges, Justice Rook and Justice Lawrence, spoke to the jury and implored them to reconsider. The jury held a second meeting and subsequently found Smith guilty of murder. He was sentenced to be hanged and dissected the following Monday. Crying hysterically, Smith collapsed and had to be carried out of the courtroom. The Lord Chief Barron, either in a moment of compassion or in recognition of the public backlash that might ensue, referred Smith's punishment to King George III. That evening, the King commuted Smith's death sentence to one year of imprisonment with hard labor. On July 14, 1804, he received a full pardon. In the years that followed the Hammersmith Ghost case, similar instances of mistaken identity were brought to trial. It was determined that there was little defense for a person who committed a violent crime while actually believing they were acting in good faith. This legal haziness would not be settled until 180 years later, in 1984, when Regina vs. Williams was brought to the Court of Appeal. Though the Hammersmith Ghost and Thomas Millwood have long since disappeared from view, local legend maintains that Millwood's spirit is not at peace. Every 50 years, his ghost is said to appear in the bar that now stands on the location of his death. Ironically, the very man gunned down because he appeared as a ghost is now said to haunt the site where he died. The late Georgian façade of 50 Berkeley Square seems harmless enough, but it was once known as the most haunted home in all of London. Today is better known for being one of the oldest unaltered buildings in England's capital city. Although its reputation may have faded, this four-story townhouse was at the center of stories about a nameless horror that took the lives of the foolhardy and unlucky alike. To this day, visitors are warned away from the topmost floor and the dangers that still dwell within. The brickwork building at 50 Berkeley Square was designed and built by William Kent in the late 18th century as one of many in the well-to-do Mayfair area. Almost immediately, neighbors began telling stories about its sinister residence. The most common story was of a young woman named Adeline who jumped from the uppermost floors to escape her abusive uncle. From that on, people would see her white figure throwing herself from the top floor window before falling and disappearing. Other stories arose about a Mr. Dupre who locked his mad brother in the attic room and kept him there, feeding him through a hole in the door. Later, residents reported seeing the spirit of a little girl in the attic as well, who'd supposedly been killed by a sadistic servant. The first long-term resident of 50 Berkeley Square was Prime Minister George Canning, who lived there until his death in 1827. Canning was the first to experience the haunting in the form of inexplicable sounds and psychic phenomena. After his death, people moved in and out of the house through the 1850s. However, at this point, the house came to life when a maid who spent the night on the top floor was found screaming the next morning, her face a mask of fear. She survived, but later passed away at a sanitarium. Rumors began to circulate around London that only the bravest of souls would dare to spend the night in the haunted house. Shortly thereafter, a young man with no fear of ghosts offered to stay the night. After setting up a bell system, one ring for fear, two rings for help, the man went to sleep. But after the bell began shaking rapidly, he was found dead of fright. Eventually, an elderly woman named Miss Curzon calmly passed away the last of her days in the sinister townhouse. But the horror at 50 Berkeley Square was merely lurking in the shadows, waiting for the discount bearstead to purchase and lease it to a young man on the verge of marriage named Mr. Myers. After his fiancee jilted Myers, the gentleman isolated himself in the home he'd furnished for her and became a recluse. On occasion, neighbors saw him taking walks at night, his lone candlelight drifting from room to room. It's unclear what happened to Myers, but soon enough, the former prime minister's home had become derelict, with a reputation as the haunted house in Berkeley Square. In 1872, the aristocrat, Lord Littleton, decided to stay the night and brought his shotgun with him. He claimed to have fired at a brown mass of tendrils in the shadows, but there was no trace of it in the morning. In 1873, the local council summoned its owners over back taxes. When neither Myers nor Bearstead came forth, the townhouse's formidable reputation led to the charges being dropped and the building lay vacant for years. In the meantime, neighbors reported unearthly moans and screams, along with the sounds of furniture being dragged, bells ringing and windows slamming. Despite its grimy brickwork and piles of waste, 50 Berkeley Square was purchased by a man and his two teenage daughters in 1879. Upon moving in, the eldest daughter noted a musty smell like zoo animals in their cages. During preparations for the arrival of her betrothed, a captain Kentfield, a maid servant was found collapsed and in hysterics in the guest room, the same haunted room on the top floor. She reportedly cried, don't let it touch me over and over before being sent to a sanitarium. Meanwhile, only a half hour after the captain's arrival, screams and a gunshot were heard before he was discovered dead afright. An article in the Mayfair magazine recounted the entire affair and the nameless horror was soon known throughout the United Kingdom. By the late 19th century, the haunted townhouse had been long abandoned. Unfortunately, two sailors on leave from the HMS Penelope on Christmas Eve 1887 could not have known what awaited them in its dark interiors. Edward Blunden and Robert Martin were merely looking for a place to spend the night after a night of celebration that left them bereft of money for lodging. The two stumbled upon 50 Berkeley Square and settled into one of the upper bedrooms. At some point, Blunden began hearing ghostly footsteps before Myers' menacing ghost entered their room. Martin awoke to his compatriot and snared by spectral tendrils and dashed from the room. Upon his return with the authorities, they discovered Blunden dead. Although the story has changed over time, with some claiming the sailor was dismembered in the basement or impaled on a fence, the horror had taken its last life. For now. Since the death of Robert Martin, only an elderly couple and an antiquarian book dealer have inhabited the sinister house at 50 Berkeley Square. With the closing of Mags Bros. antiquarian book dealers in 2015, though, the stories have returned of objects tossed about or of a shapeless brown mist that reaches from the shadows. To this day, a police notice stands on the wall inside the townhouse that proclaims that the upper floors cannot be used for any purpose. May all who see it heed its warning. This next story is from weirdo family member Cassie Murphy. So this happened about 10 years ago now. I have to start by saying I am a mother of two beautiful girls, both born by C-section. I know, a strange detail, but it's important. When my eldest daughter was around three, a friend and I decided to take both girls to a ghost town near the little town we lived in in Idaho. Everything was going great. Most of the buildings were roped off, so you really couldn't get too close to anything. It hadn't been a ghost town for very long. In the window of one of the houses was a land before time VHS tape. But it was fun. We were almost done walking through the paths when my little blonde baby looked at me and said, You are not my mom. I told her I am your mom. I have the scars to prove it. She looked back at me and then said, My mom and dad were shot by bad guys. She looked so serious for a three-year-old. I picked her up and hugged her and reassured her I really am her mother. Then I got the creepy baby out of the ghost town as fast as I could. Took me another 10 years before I would let her anywhere near another ghost town. This last time went by with no creepy incidents. But I will never forget hearing my baby tell me that I am not her mother. Still gives me the shivers. No other epidemic or pandemic has claimed as many lives as the Spanish flu. Not even the Black Death in the 14th century, AIDS in the 20th century, or COVID-19 in the 21st century. Now, more than 100 years later, why have we forgotten the deadliest pandemic in history? That story is up next on Weird Darkness. Hey Weirdos, my next email newsletter winner gets the winterized Weirdo prize back. If I draw your name for my newsletter subscribers next month, you'll win a classic zip-up Weird Darkness hoodie in your choice of size and colors. I'm proud to be a Weirdo crew-neck sweatshirt with your size and color choice. Plus, a Bigfoot Aliens and UFOs ceramic coffee mug along with a travel mug of the same design to drink your favorite hot beverage in. I'll be choosing a winner for my winterized Weirdo prize pack in March, so sign up for the Weird Darkness email newsletter at WeirdDarkness.com and you'll automatically be in the drawing to win. No purchase necessary, see details on the contest page at WeirdDarkness.com. In a single day, physician Victor Vaughn witnessed 63 soldiers die. Though it was 1918 and World War I still raged in Europe, these men had not been shot in the trenches or poisoned by mustard gas. They had died from an infection just outside of Boston at Camp Devons, and the disease was spreading. By late fall of that year, Vaughn solemnly stated, if the epidemic continues its mathematical rate of acceleration, civilization could easily disappear from the face of the earth. Humanity did not perish that year, yet it is easy to understand why Vaughn thought it could. International death toll estimates for the Spanish flu pandemic, that is a global epidemic, range between 20 to 100 million, or about 5 percent of the world's population, with cases on five continents. These fatalities included an estimated 675,000 Americans, or 10 times as many as who died in World War I. On the centennial of this health disaster, it's worth asking, why isn't the 1918 flu better remembered? Lost scars are family trees. The visuals of that year remain haunting with faces hidden by protective masks, and the streets left deserted as crowds became associated with death. Schools, theaters, and even churches were shuttered, as people waited for the illness to pass. Schools and private homes were turned into makeshift hospitals, while a popular ski rope rhyme was ominously sung by children. I had a little bird, its name was Enza, I opened the window and in flew Enza. Austrian painter Gustav Klimt, his protege, Egon Schuyl, and French poet Guillaume Apollonier all died from the 1918 flu. Edward Monk painted a self-portrait after the Spanish flu in 1919, in which he is gazing haggardly at the viewer, drained but still alive. Even President Woodrow Wilson got the flu, its symptoms taking their toll as he participated in the 1919 negotiation of the Treaty of Versailles. Rich or poor, rural or city dweller, no one was safe from the Spanish flu. In Pale Rider, the Spanish flu of 1918 and how it changed the world, Laura Spinney notes that there are very few cemeteries in the world that, assuming they are older than a century, don't contain a cluster of graves from the autumn of 1918, when the second and worst wave of the pandemic struck, and people's memories reflect that. But there is no cenotaph, no monument in London, Moscow or Washington, D.C. The Spanish flu is remembered personally, not collectively. There were three waves of the Spanish flu, with two in 1918 and a third in early 1919. Spanish flu is something of a misnomer. The countries involved in World War I were reluctant to publicize their own struggles with influenza, lest they be perceived as weak. Spain, however, was neutral and didn't censor this news. Scientists and researchers have theorized for years over the actual origin of the disease, from Camp Funston in Kansas to China, with no consensus except that it was not Spain. Wartime restrictions on communication had deadly effects, including in the U.S. President Wilson's Committee on Public Information and the Sedition Act passed by Congress both limited writing or publishing anything negative about the country. Federally-issued posters asked the public to report the man who spreads pessimistic stories. John M. Berry, author of The Great Influenza, the story of the deadliest pandemic in history, writes in an article for Smithsonian Magazine about a particularly tragic consequence of this militant protection of morale. In Philadelphia, doctors pushed for the Liberty Loan Parade on September 28 to be canceled as they were concerned the concentration of people would spur the disease. They convinced reporters to write stories about the danger, Berry writes, but editors refused to run them and refused to print letters from doctors. The largest parade in Philadelphia's history proceeded on schedule. Two days later, the epidemic had indeed spread, and over just six weeks, more than 12,000 citizens of Philadelphia died. The Spanish Flu is now identified as a form of H1N1 influenza. It still has outbreaks, but the clustering of soldiers in camps, the density of urban areas and the newly global connections of ships, railroads and other transportation meant it had prime conditions for a pandemic in 1918. This was also before flu vaccines and treatment options were limited. Eating or wearing onions, drinking whiskey and praying were some available prescriptions. Posters issued by Alberta Canada's Provincial Board warned there is no medicine which will prevent it, and instead gave instructions on how to make a mask. A U.S. public health ad declared the disease as dangerous as poison gas shells. Shaking hands, borrowing books from the library and spitting on the street were all warned against. In New York City, Boy Scouts patrolled the streets, handing spitters printed cards that read, You Are in Violation of the Sanitary Code. Many infected people got better. Many did not. In the book, Flu, the story of the great influenza pandemic of 1918 and the search for the virus that caused it, Gina Colada relates the grisly death by Spanish Flu. Your face turns a dark brownish-purple. You start to cough up blood. Your feet turn black. Finally, as the end nears, you frantically gasp for breath. A blood-tinged saliva bubbles out of your mouth. You die by drowning, actually, as your lungs fill with a reddish fluid. And a significant number of the dead were not young or elderly. They were in the prime of their lives between 20 to 40 years old and generally healthy before they caught the flu. As the sickness accelerated, there was a desperate need for doctors and nurses, many of whom were occupied by the war effort. Medical workers often contracted the flu themselves, and there was reluctance to volunteer around this contagious disease. Then another crisis emerged, how to bury the dead. Alfred W. Crosby, in America's Forgotten Pandemic, the Influenza of 1918, chronicles the burial crisis in Philadelphia, where by mid-October the problem of first priority was not a shortage of volunteers to keep the living alive, but the inadequacy of existing means to put the dead into the ground. There weren't enough coffins, and gravediggers couldn't keep up. One manufacturer said he could dispose of 5,000 caskets in two hours if he had them. At times, the city morgue had as many as 10 times as many bodies as coffins. At Dublin Union Hospital in Ireland, coffins were stacked 18 high in the mortuary at the pandemic's peak. In Spain, the usual two to three-day-long funeral ceremonies were suspended, and village church bells, which had told for the dead since the 16th century, were stopped in order to not further demoralize the population. In Oklahoma City, on the Sunday of October 13th, the church bells were also eerily silent, as the city commissioners shut down the schools, churches and any public space where the disease could spread. Just as World War I was splitting countries apart, the earth was united under a dark shadow of death. Some places were hit worse than others. In western Samoa, now part of the independent state of Samoa, an estimated 22% of the population died. Maury people in New Zealand also suffered, with a death rate of about 50 per 1,000. Mawer Elder, Waina Cooper, as quoted on the New Zealand History site, later described the horror at Pangru Hokeonja, my father was the first to die, I couldn't do anything for him. I remember we put him in a coffin, like a box, there were many others, you could see them on the roads, on the sledges, the ones that are able to drag them away, dragged them away to the cemetery, no time for tanges, the Maury funeral rite. These cemeteries, whether in New Zealand or Kansas, are where we can remember the Spanish Flu. There is no major Spanish Flu monument, no Spanish Flu Museum. It's likely you didn't learn about the Spanish Flu at school, even while studying the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in World War I. Go for a walk in your old local cemetery, read the tombstones, look for dates in 1918. You might find whole families who died within days, or maybe one big monument for a large field of grass under which hundreds were interred when there was no time for individual headstones. There were unmarked mass graves dug for the pandemic's dead. One was found during 2015 road construction in Pennsylvania, but many came to rest in these cemeteries and are still there to discover and recall what popular history has forgotten. No other epidemic or pandemic has claimed as many lives as the Spanish Flu, not even the Black Death in the 14th century, or AIDS in the 20th century. Its obscurity may be an urge to move on from this massive, seemingly inexplicable catastrophe. The individual losses were mourned, not the collective toll. Yet collectively is how people can make it through these disasters in the future, whether it's getting a flu shot or supporting accessible healthcare to support a healthy whole. A flu pandemic could happen again, and unlike in wars, there are no winners in pandemics. Only survivors. Thanks for listening. If you like the podcast and you haven't already subscribed, be sure to do so now so you don't miss future episodes. And also, please, tell someone else about the podcast. Recommend Weird Darkness to your friends, family and co-workers who love the paranormal, horror stories or true crime like you do. Every time you share the podcast with someone new, it helps spread the word about the show, and a growing audience makes it possible for me to keep creating episodes as often as I do. Plus, telling others about Weird Darkness also helps get the word out about resources that are available for those who suffer from depression, so please, share the podcast with someone today. Do you have a dark tale to tell of your own? Fact or fiction, click on Tell Your Story on the website, and I might use it in a future episode. 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. Desert Humanoids was written by Brent Swancer for Mysterious Universe. The London haunting that led to murder is from the lineup. The haunting of 50 Berkeley Square is from the Occult Museum. You Are Not My Mom is by Weirdo family member Cassie Murphy, and The Forgotten Year of Death is by Allison C. Meyer for the Order of the Good Death. Weird Darkness Theme by Alibi Music And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. James 1, Verse 22 Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial. Because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him. And a final thought, develop an attitude of gratitude. Say thank you to everyone you meet for everything they do for you. Brian Tracy I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness. Official Weirdos You'll get the commercial-free version of the podcast each day, exclusive news and content. And I'll also be able to upload videos there, schedule live stream events and live chats. And it allows you to interact with other official weirdos by posting your own content and opinions, commenting on what others post, share what you like on the page with others, and invite them to the community, etc. It's kind of the best parts of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Patreon, but without the worst parts of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Patreon. This is a free speech community. 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