Unexplained Mysteries

The Mystery of the Silpho Saucer & the fish and chip shop!

In1972, the retired Vicar of Chidick, in the west county of Dorset, England,apparently came to Loch Ness to ‘exorcise’ the Loch Ness Monster. Reverend DonaldOmand, a doctor of philosophy, and a man rather bizarrely said to have beenheld in particular high ‘esteem by circus people throughout Europe,’  for his ‘Ability to spiritually de-lousepotentially dangerous places such as big tops, and wild animals,’ according to paranormalresearcher Ted Holiday, arrived at Loch Ness to rid the Lake of the infamous giantwater-monster, and the BBC came along to record it on film for posterity. Onthe shores of the Lake, the Vicar, dressed in his ecclesiastical robes, entereda small rowing boat alone and rowed out to the middle of the cold water of LochNess. Once he reached a spot in the middle of the Lake, the vicar promptly stoodup in the rowing boat and began his exorcism: “Let devil worship and all nefariousmagic cease!” he said in a loud voice. The BBC reporter commentates; “It’s a strangemission indeed that’s brought the Reverend Omand on a 700-mile journey from hiswest-country home to the shores of Loch Ness. Dr. Omand, just retired as aVicar of Chiddick, has an appointment with the monster. It’s a coming togetherthe 71-year old Doctor of Philosophy doesn’t expect Nessie to particularly enjoy;because Dr. Omand is here to get the monster to change its ways. Many men wouldshrink from such an assignment – after all, monsters might be expected to giveshort shrift to elderly vicars who come along interfering in their business. However,Dr. Omand, his canonicals fanned by the breeze, seems to have no qualms as heheads for the centre of the Loch. It’s there he will perform the ceremony whichhe confidently expects will mark the end of a million years of monstrousbehaviour. The vicar says, “I adjure thee, thou ancient serpent….” Saysthe BBC reporter; “The Vicar’s theory is that the Loch Ness Monster is not apre-historic beast that somehow slipped through the evolutionary net and livedon in the vast depths of the Loch. He maintains that Nessie is an apparition: aspirit, and an evil one at that; so much so that it’s having a bad effect on thelocals, driving them to drink, foul tempers and black magic. It’s a ceremonythe Vicar has performed on many occasions in other haunted spots and now Dr Omandis exorcising Loch Ness of the evil spirit of the Monster.” The Vicar continues; “Depart to the place appointed them, there to remain forever.” The Vicar is standing precariously in the small rowing boat. “Grant that by the power entrusted to the unworthy servant, this Highland Loch and all land adjoining it may be delivered from all evil spirits, all vain imaginations, projections and phantasms, and all

In November 1930, in the Swanand Pyramid Public House in North London, a conversation was taking place betweentwo men. If anyone else in the pub had caught any part of the conversation takingplace between the two men standing at the bar, they would have noticed nothingstrange or unusual. They might have noticed that one was drinking beer and theother lemonade, and one of the men was more smartly dressed than the other, butthere was nothing else of note that would have drawn their attention.It would later transpire that the two gentlemen had met outside the public house, and one had invited the other one inside. It was November the 5th, although one of them would later say it was the 2nd or 3rd. Later, one of the men would say that the other man with him was “Approximately forty years of age, between 5 ft 6 and 5 ft 8 inches tall, had a slight brogue, and had a boxing or sports tattoo on his right forearm.” He would say that the man had been wearing police boots, which the other man explained had been given to him by the London police. He was also carrying a sports diary. What one of the men did not know, was that this meeting would set in play a most diabolical plan, and one riddled with strange coincidences too….Tales of Mystery UnexplainedAlso in the Book Tales of Mystery Unexplained

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A haunting last photo is allthat his parents are left with. The photo is a close-up shot of his face, setagainst a bleak, dark landscape. He is alone, we think. He is lost, we believe,and he is very afraid. How he vanished has never been solved. He was a boy scoutaged 12, and he vanished into thin air. He was with his scout group on a hike. Thereone minute, gone the next. It was July the 19th 1991, and 12-year-old Jared Negrete was on his first overnight camping trip in the San Gorgorio wilderness in the South-Eastern part of the San Bernardino National Forest of California. It is an area the LA Times calls, ‘A breath-taking bramble of rocky crags, sandy switchbacks, and dozens of trails, many of which meander to nowhere….’After Jared disappeared, a 19-daysearch for him found only his camera with that last haunting photo, and somediscarded candy wrappers. How could he vanish in the middle of the wilderness? Therewas no road to leave by, no transport out of there; no route out, apart from avery long hike. "The hardest part is at night, knowing he's out there by himself in the wilderness," said Linda Negrete, his mother, who called out to her son over a public address system for days after he vanished, from a helicopter circling the search area. ‘Searchers find camera belonging to Jared,’ wrote Associated Press. ‘Camera found as they followed footprints they believed were made by the missing boy. The film in the 5 foot 2, 150 lb boy’s camera was developed, but proved to be of no use to searchers.’ All it had was an eerie close-up of his face. The photo looked as though it had been taken after night had fallen….also in the book Tales of Mystery Unexplained

English essayist in the 1800’s, Maurice Henry Hewlett, wrote Lore of Posperine, which features an account of the strangest of doll-like ‘creatures’ and the sinister results of it’s appearance.“The facts were as follows. A Mr Stephen Mortimer Beckwith, 28, clerk in the Wiltshire ’ for he had no other word for it. To him she was something he could not define. Her face was that of an older girl, a late t

Was Richard Lancelyn Green killed by a rival, an assassin, or by his own hands? Lancelyn Green was probably the foremost collector of the personal papers and materials of the great detective writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes. Lancelyn Green also probably had the largest collection of memorabilia of Sherlock Holmes ever gathered too, and his death would ironically turn out to be most fitting for a plot in one of the Sherlock Holmes novels; though the solution to his death remains cryptically unsolved.On the 24th of May 2004, Ricard Lancelyn Green was discovered dead in his home in Kensington London. A shoelace had been wound around his neck and then tightened with the handle of a wooden spoon. He had been garrotted. There was no sign of forced entry into his apartment. It almost appeared to be a locked-room mystery. Just prior to his death, Lancelyn Green had said “someone” was after him, yet his death looked more like a suicide. He was found lying on his bed, surrounded by stuffed toys and a bottle of Gin…Said The London Times, ‘a mystery as tantalizing as any to unfold at 221B Baker Street.’Was Richard Lancelyn Green killed by a rival, an assassin, or by his own hands? Also featured in one of my books Tales of Mystery Unexplained

‘In did come the strangest figure! A wandering fellow with a gipsy coat of red & yellow. And he himself was tall & thin. Lips where smiles went out & in. There was no guessing his kith & kin! Quoth one: “It’s as if my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone, had walked this way from his painted tomb!” Who was this Walking Cadaver who stole away all the children?

Was there really an Underground Monster at Montauk? Listen to one woman's story of what happened to her undergound at Montauk… Tales of the Unexplained with music by http://dig.ccmixter.org/files/NiGiD/50238 Ft: AT Martijn de Boer (NiGiD) Tales of the Unexplained

Stories of Strange Intruders, with music by http://dig.ccmixter.org/files/NiGiD/50238 Ft: AT Martijn de Boer (NiGiD)

Sent by special cable from France on May the 27th 1922, The New York Times reported on a very curious case. ‘A baffling mystery is exciting the inhabitants of the small Brittany village of Goas Al Ludu in the Brest district. Early in April, a little girl, Pauline Picard, disappeared from her parent’s farm, all searches proving fruitless…. ‘ As the story progresses, soon we will have a missing girl, a girl returned who is a doppelganger, a headless girl, and a bodiless man; all of whom remain unidentified!

When Henry McCabe disappeared, he left what can only be described as the most bone-chilling voicemail. He is screaming, pleading, and growling in raw, animalistic agony. Along with these sounds is a noise in the background that sounds indefinably mechanical. As we listen to it, we do not know what is happening to him. Even more chilling is the moment another voice can be heard, telling Henry in a cold, emotionless, detached voice, “Stop it.” Fifty-five days later, Henry’s body was found in an isolated creek. His body had no wounds, no trauma, no injuries. How could this be possible after Henry’s harrowing, visceral voicemail? What was it that took Henry to the gaping, echoing abyss of unremitting terror? And who, or what took him on that terrible one-way journey? “This is what they did to my son. Henry paid for you to learn the lesson,” said his mother; but what does she mean? Why would he walk six miles to a spot only accessible through thick inhospitable vegetation, in pitch darkness, toward a creek that was so isolated few even knew it was there? For that is where he was found. The crime scene photos show this location. There is no footpath to lead him to where he was found. It is a bleak landscape of tall dense trees and thick brambles. Had Henry tried to cut-through this area, to get home? And yet it was no-where near where he had been dropped off, and no-where near home, and it led only to the cold depths of the water. It was not an easy route to get through, and it was not a route to anywhere other than desolation. The Strange Unexplained Death of Henry McCabe