For today's October 'Things That Go Bump' entry, the three of us conducted a brief EVP session in the cemetery at Tula, MS.
The three of us being myself, Karen, and Daimos, the dog.
The ability of animals to sense invisible presences is literally the stuff of legend. Dogs and cats have keener senses of smell and hearing than we do. Maybe they can sense other things as well.
I do recall an incident from many years ago that I still can't explain. At the time, Spot was my dog.
Spot was a junkyard puppy. She was mostly Malamute. She was a beautiful dog -- and she was absolutely the most ferocious and protective canine I've ever met.
I once saw her attack a hot-air balloon. She had no fear, of anything. And while she loved me, she pretty much hated everything and everyone else. She was not, as someone once told me, 'a warm and fuzzy doggy.'
One day Spot and I were taking a walk across the back field. It was fall. There was nothing there, save some low grass that had been bush-hogged nearly down to nothing. The field was empty. There was a chill in the air. The sky was overcast, the color of old lead.
We were walking along, dog and man, when, without warning, Spot goes into full-blown furious wolf mode. Her hair stood on end. She went stiff, on point, snarling and growling at -- nothing.
She was not looking at the ground, as though at a snake, or something hiding in the stubble. No, she was poised just as she would have been towards a person -- her eyes and muzzle uplifted, as though staring at a face.
But there was simply nothing there. I tried to calm her down, but she was having none of it. Her snarling and growling gave way to short lunges and rapid bluff-moves.
When I tried to step ahead, she put her wide butt in front of me, and wouldn't let me pass.
Spot wasn't on a leash. I stepped back, told her to follow. She ignored me, stayed planted where she was, growing more and more agitated by the moment.
I saw nothing. I felt nothing. But seeing Spot go into fight mode over a patch of thin air was unnerving. I'd never seen her do that before, and I never saw her do it again, either.
After about three full minutes of snarling at the unseen, she just stopped. She barked a couple of times, her hackles fell, and after another few seconds she was fine.
We went on our way.
So, did Spot come face to face with something only she could see?
Looked that way. But I'll never know.
So. Daimos, who IS a warm and fuzzy doggy, went with us to Tula today. Karen took Daimos and the Zoom H1 field mic. I took a homemade device I call the magbox, with a digital recorder affixed to it so I could record the session.
The Magbox is something I built. It's simply a very sensitive amplifier with a magnetic pickup as its input source. I use it mainly for debunking, because it can register the distinctive hum of 60 Hertz house current or even the buzz of a nearby cell phone from many feet away. That K2 meter going off? I can sweep the magbox probe by it, and instantly pick out electrical lines or RF signals. In many instances, that's a mystery solved.
But today, I took the magbox to the cemetery. There are no power lines there. No house current. Nothing that should give the magbox anything to amplify.
Turns out, though, I may have made the amp a little *too* powerful, because as soon as I switched it on, the magbox started humming, picking up intermittent stray radio signals from who knows where. Still, I brought the thing, so I decided to keep it on.
About three and a half minutes in, I ask 'Does anyone have anything to say? Anything at all?'
A male voice seems to reply, saying 'Yes, leave us honey buns.'
Look, I just record this stuff, I don't script it.
I offer this recording with a grain of salt. As I stated, the magbox was picking up intermittent RF bursts. Is that what this is?
Could be. Could be something else. I just don't know.
Anyway, listen for yourself by clicking the link below. I looped the reply so you can hear it several times without restarting the clip.
Karen got a single odd BOOP noise, which sounds so mechanical it's obviously something striking the Zoom case, or Daimos' tags clanking together.
We'd only been there about seven minutes when a pickup pulled in behind us.
I've got a rule when out tramping around cemeteries with weird-looking gear. The rule is this -- when pickups pull in, my butt pulls out, with a quickness. I'm not treating the cemetery with any disrespect. I'm not trying to raise any spooks, or commune with evil spirits. I'm not on the Devil's payroll, or even his mailing list -- but trying to debate metaphysics with some furious Deliverance extra is A) usually a waste of time, and B) concussions hurt.
So we left.
You can watch the video by clicking the link below. The camera mic didn't pick up a thing, though I did throw a subtitle in the video at the point I was asked to leave pastries.
I hope you've enjoyed these October spooky blog entries. Until next week -- beware the things that go bump in the night!
And Happy Halloween!
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