Morbid - The Kidnapping of Charlie Lindbergh (Part 1)

Episode Date: March 19, 2026

On March 1, 1932, someone crept into a second-floor window of the home of Charles and Ann Lindbergh and kidnapped the couple’s twenty-month-old son, Charlie, leaving behind a ransom note demanding $50,000 for the boy’s return. Mentions in this episode: Come to see MORBID Live at Radio City Music Hall on June 27th! Tickets are available for purchase by visiting this site! Don't forget to prepare for our March Bonus Episode Bookclub, brought to YOU by our friends at Ashley!  We're excited to share  the episode with you wherever you find podcasts on March 31st! We will also have the full VIDEO episode available on Youtube as well!  Want to be part of the conversation? This time we're talking about Postmortem by Patricia Cornwell. Get it wherever you find books now! Reference American Experience. n.d. Ann Morrow Lindbergh. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/lindbergh-anne-morrow/. Associated Press. 1932. "Moore halts plan for state reward." Central New Jersey Home News, March 2: 1. —. 1932. "Seek Lindbergh baby in Newark after card is discovered in mails." Central New Jersey Home News, March 2: 1. —. 1932. "Orders that vigilance be not relaxed until killers meet justice." Courier-News (Bridgewater, NJ), May 13: 1. —. 1932. "Morrow maid a suicide." Herald-News (Passaic, NJ), June 10: 1. —. 1934. "Hauptman ready to quit US." The Evening Times (Trenton, NJ), September 21: 1. Cahill, Richard. 2014. Hauptmann's Ladder: A Step-By-Step Analysis of the Lindbergh Kidnapping. Kent, OH: Kent State University Press. Hauck, Anthony. 1935. "Hauptman's guilt overwhelmingly proved." New York Times, February 12: 12. Linder, Douglas. n.d. Ransom notes, responses and other communication. Accessed December 29, 2025. https://famous-trials.com/hauptmann/1398-ransom. New York Times. 1934. "Friends describe Hauptman as shy." New York Times, September 23: 24. —. 1934. "Hauptman script 'like' kidnappers." New York Times, October 16: 20. —. 1932. "Test of religion seen in kidnapping." New York Times, May 16: 2. 2013. Who Killed Lindbergh's Baby? Directed by Larry Klein. Performed by Nova. Shapiro, Stanley. 2009. "The Celebrity of Charles Lindbergh." Air Power History 21-33. Cowritten by Alaina Urquhart, Ash Kelley & Dave White (Since 10/2022)Produced & Edited by Mikie Sirois (Since 2023)Research by Dave White (Since 10/2022), Alaina Urquhart & Ash KelleyListener Correspondence & Collaboration by Debra LallyListener Tale Video Edited by Aidan McElman (Since 6/2025) Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hey, weirdos, I'm Ash. And I'm Elena. And I am John Lee Brody. And this is a special listener Tales edition of Morbid with one of our fantastic Morbid Network host, John Lee, Brody of. That was pretty scary. Thanks for being here, John. Thanks for having me as a proud weirdo of, first of all, happy five-year anniversary of the Morbub

podcast, because I've been a proud weird. for those five years and it's the what the wood anniversary so wouldn't it be nice if we get five more years yeah someone else wants to say hi hold on to she'll be about to make an appearance and i'm going to lose my mind where is shelby oh my god look at that corgi he's healthy she's feeling so much better she is feeling better and i think she wants to take her nap right now she's like she's like i'm not working right now. She's like, Dad, I'm not a show pony. All right. I want to do my show. I shall be. I love Shelby. She's so beautiful. She knew. She must have known. She heard y'all's voices because she hears your all the time, but I always had the podcast on. So she's like,

wait a minute. Are they here? What's going on? I love that. I love it. She is so cute. I know them. Why do they sound familiar? I know. Well, this is special because it's the five-year anniversary like months and your are like special guest of the month. I love that. And it's also AAPI Heritage Month and it's mental health awareness month. So it's a lot of, we got the trifecta going on. And it's very exciting. And I've, uh, it's crazy because I feel like I've known you two. Well, I have known you two for five years, but now we actually know each other. We're working together. And it's a very special dynamic. And it's, uh, just it's all to have it all kind of culminate here is very, very special. It is. This is really fun. We're really excited for this. And I know everybody has been

obsessed with that was pretty scary. People are loving it, including me and me. I'm so glad to hear that. Well, we got a, you know, we got a long road ahead and we'll get to our five year anniversary for that in good time. And also there was a really positive response to my Instagram, little mini deep dive. So I'll be doing more of those to anyone who is enjoying that. There will be more of those coming. I think one will be coming this week. So there should be more good stuff. I'm glad people like it. We certainly love doing it.

We love work with you all our listeners too. We're so happy to have you. And I love those deep dives. They're so fun. Those are huge. There's more. There's more. Trust me.

That might be a longer list than our list of horror movies. I'm the person that's always looking at those little details. And I like to just shine a light on those things so that people go, oh, wait, yeah. it's not just a happy accident that's happening. There may be a calculated move in terms of why that's there. I think that's awesome. Get the inside scoop. Yeah, and I think what works with your show is that it's like such good perspectives.

Like it's a different perspective than just taught. Like even like we have scream and it's just like three, you know, us three idiots talking about horror movies. But it's like it's fun. We have no insight whatsoever. That's fun. But like it's really fun to hear it from like professionals on either side of the situation. So I think it's like a brilliant idea for a show. Oh, thank you.

And it's a lot of thanks to you for going for the idea because I know Freddie it was on like a random general meeting three because you don't have the same manager. And then he called me and said, hey, I think we got this, this horror podcast idea is going to go in a different way. I'm like, oh, okay, great. Like, all right. Slog for the ride. Yeah, and Freddie's my big brother. And so to work with someone that you're really close with like you two, you two are,

you know, obviously best friends and everything. That's Freddie and myself. And he came up in the industry a lot sooner. than I did when he was doing cheese all that. I was in junior high. Same. Yeah. I mean, and everybody won, every guy wanted to be Zach Seiler in high school.

Oh, of course. Oh, yeah. And none of us succeeded. I didn't know this, but maybe a couple did. No, you guys are like the sweetest. Freddie, that really was what it was. We had like a random meeting with him and we were like, he is so kind. The kindest.

And so nice. And it was just such a good idea. We were like, how do we not jump on this? Exactly. Well, I'm glad you did. And I'm glad we're here. And I'm glad to be, I'm honored to be here for listener tales and part of the, the flagship, the mothership podcast of the Morbid Network. Yes.

And we heard you have a tale to start us off with. Yes. So this is for my good friends back home in Palatine, Illinois. Shout out to all my friends who I went to friend high school with, even the ones that made fun of me, who are now pretending to be my friend because they love morbid. But whatever. Oh, my God, I love it. You gave me so much street cred with the people. back in the deal that gave me our time.

Amazing. It's funny how life works. Screw them. Exactly. But keep listening and subscribing to morbid. Exactly. Yes. Keep on keeping that going.

So there are these two haunted roads in Barrington, Illinois, which is about 15 minutes away from my hometown of Palatine, Illinois. And the origin stories are a little murky. They kind of vary a little bit. It's like the Joker in the Dark Night. He keeps telling a different origin story of how he got his scars. So we don't exactly know when this originated, but there's a Roco Cuba Road, which leads to this cemetery called the White Cemetery. So this does go back to the 1800s.

And whether white cemetery means whites only or not, I don't know. I don't know if I really want to go there. That era. But considering there is a very heavy mafia and gangster influence in Chicago, we're talking to Al Capone's and the John Dillinger's. I'm guessing that that might have had something to do with it. or maybe that's where they bury their victims or whatever. So Cuba Road is known to be a haunted road, which leads to this cemetery. It intersects with this other role called Rainbow Road, which leads to this secluded house,

which apparently back in the day was this prominent, like Scrooge McDuck's house, Richie Riches' house. It was a symbol of this wealth that you would never, ever in your wildest dreams get. And the rumor is now that at one point it was actually like an insane asylum and the building was the abandon. There's a rumor that there was a house on Cuba Road that burned down years ago and the ghost of the woman who lived there is still there and looking over the land. And apparently gets angry if you try to get out and see where the house was. She's like, get off my long. Yeah. I think she's the OG of get off my long. Maybe that's why she's so angry because people are using

her phrase and not giving her royalties, which that does that does play into the WGA strike. So maybe our old lady on the Cuba Road is the OG of fair practices and fair pay. Topical. We support her. Maybe that's all she wanted. We support. Well, my whole interpretation of ghosts is we tend to think that every ghost is going to be evil because we have like Ghostbusters.

We think the exorcist. And that's just how they portrayed on screen. But there's also Casper the friendly ghost who just tragically died as a kid and is just lingering in Whipstaff. I'm going off of the Casper movie. Hell yeah. That came out in the 90s. That's my favorite.

Christina Ricci. Yeah, with the human version being Devin Sala. And every guy was jealous of Devin Sala because it's like, wait, every girl likes Devin Sala. I don't look like Devin Sala. There's no hope for me. It was the haircut. And shout out to Devin Sala. Anyways, I digress.

It was. By the time we all got our driver's licenses, the right of passage was you have to drive Cuba Road because that's the urban legend we grew up with. That's so fun. I love this. If you're really a tough guy, if you're really a manly man, because remember, this is the late 90s, 302,000, where people still talk like that. Yep.

If you're really a man, you're going to drive down Cuba Road. I'm like, oh, okay. I mean, I don't know how my anatomy. I don't know how my anatomy and like this. I don't know how this ties into the science of whether I'm a male or not. But okay, let me just go with this because it's high school. We want to be cool. Yeah.

And I remember as me, my best friend growing up, Chris Ryerson. So shout out to Chris Ryerson, who. Shut out Chris. is a teacher in Barrington now. Wow. I was texting him last night and like, hey, man, do you remember when we drove Cuba Road with shout out to, I think it was our friends Lauren, Jackie, and Kana. And I think we were trying to impress them to show them like how brave we were on Cuba Road.

This is amazing already. It's taking me back though. It's got a nostalgic feel to it. It does. And it's taking me back the more I speak out loud about it. It's funny how memories work. They're pretty dormant in our brain. but the moment you bring it up you're like oh wow like the whole flash of memories come back

details you can like yeah yeah and it was our other friend pat who was also in the car so pat pat pat's the friend who you know you had the asshole friend who but they're your asshole so it's okay oh yeah that was pat and i'm leaving his last name out because he's a college basketball coach so i don't want to get him in any trouble that he's the asshole friend but you know who you are you No, I love you, but you are an asshole. We feel that. Yes. So we're driving down Cuba, like, are we going to do this thing?

I'm like, guys, we got to play it cool. We got to be cool. I don't know how to play it cool now, like let alone at the age of 16, 17, 18. What am I doing? But whatever, they do it on TV. How hard can it be? So we're driving down Cuba Road. And right away, and this is something we always heard about,

there's these little white and green orbs of light that this isn't just reflecting from our headlights or anything. These things are like following us. They're like kind of surrounding the car. And this is, and there's no streetlights on Cuba Road. So you're like, what is? You're like, this is not a reflection. This defies science.

And all it took was one of the girls to say, oh my God, do you see that? And then all of a sudden, once we wish they said that and we saw that, we couldn't unsee it. And then all of a sudden in my mind, I'm like, uh-oh, wait, maybe this isn't just an urban legend. Like, is this how my story ends? Like, do I never, like, get to be Zach Seiler and she's all that? Like, do I never, like, no hope. Like, I wasn't going to be prom king anyway, but there was at least a chance if I was alive.

It's going to happen. And so now I'm like, I'm driving and my mom's Volvo 850, which she still has at this day. Because we're, because we're Korean. We don't get rid of anything. So it just sits in our garage. Shout out to her. Yeah, shout it to my mom. My mom, who is the real superhero.

And with Mother's Day coming up, aka Superhero's Day. she's for sure is that but my mom's lovo and we're listening to like DMX or whatever is on a mix CD Ash is like I'm there with you I am literally there all of a son party up was not as an upbeat tune as it was as for tuning It became ominous Oh yes and then then again you hear of DMX's backstory so maybe that's all on brand

That's true All too long as everything. It was being foretelling of the news we're going to get about DMX years from them. So we're seeing these orbs alike. And we're getting to the cemetery. And I swear I saw a car turn into the cemetery. That's weird. People are here at night.

And we go down there. There's no car. Now, like, I swear you this happened. I'm like, okay, you all saw that, right? Like, yeah, there was a car. I'm like, yeah, we saw like some car points of the cemetery, which, one, that's, I think, a red flag when. Yeah. We're there at 8 o'clock.

It's pitch black on this, you know, I think maybe, I don't think it's an unincorporated road, but it certainly felt that way. And so we get to the cemetery. We don't see anything, but we still see the orbs of light. And this is before you could just get on your smartphone and Google stuff. We couldn't film anything because we didn't have that capability unless I took my dad's like JVC video camera and made a mini movie out of it, which had a real steady hand. Which I did just not at keyboard.

I did that all the time. Yeah, and I used to edit on TVCRs and everything. That was my starting filmmaking. But for some reason today, we didn't bring the camera gear because we didn't think we needed it. And then Pat being Pat was like, I'm going to go into the cemetery and just look myself. Like, what are you talking about in the cemetery? Like we agreed we'd stay in the car. Like a bad action movie of the 80s.

It's like, no, like don't you know what? like in Last Action Hero. Don't you know what happens when the partner goes with? He just gets killed. Like you got to stay in the car. You know what though? Classic Pat.

It is classic Pat. Yeah, he was on a different mission to really prove like, oh, I'm the alpha of this group. Yeah. Sure. Sure, Pat. Whatever you need to tell you.

I love you. I love you. Sure, Jan. So he's like, he gets out of the car and we're like, Chris and our look at nature, like, we're going to, you know, like, we're going to have to go with them.

we also can't leave everybody here. So we're trying to figure out what's going on. He takes two steps out of the car. And it was like before Jordan Peel even had the idea for this, basically we see Pat go, nope. He doesn't even go there. And that was kind of the end of that. But then we remember there's Rainbow Road. And we said, okay, if we're here, we got to check out Rainbow Road.

And which is crazy to me because at this point, I'm not going to lie. I'm a little creeped out. Oh, yeah. As much as people want to say there's no such thing as ghosts, like you can't definitively prove that there are or there aren't. That's my interpretation of it. Unless you can conclusively prove just like we can prove two plus two equals four, that you can prove to our or not ghosts,

I'm open to all possibilities. That's always how my brains worked. So that's my thinking. I'm like, look, first of all, my curfews like 1130. It's not too late. I need to get this Volvo back. Got to impress these girls and get out of here. Hell, that no fury, like a worried Korean mom wondering where her son is on a Saturday night.

And let alone as she knew we're on some haunted road in Barrington doing whatever, whatever we're doing. And you've got her Volvo. I have her Volvo 850, the same car that Sally Field drove and Mrs. Dalfire just in white instead of red. Yep. Yeah, it's to give you a visual of what kind of car it was. That was perfect. It took you right there back to 1994, 20th Century Fox. So shout out to Mrs. Dalfire and Sally Field.

So we're like, all right, well, we're here. I'm looking at my watch. I'm like, okay, it's 10.30. I got another hour before I got to get everybody home and meet my curfew. Because I legitimately was that kid who would get grounded and wouldn't be able to go out the next weekend if I was there like a minute later than my curfew. Oh, yeah. So like, oh, I heard there's an insane asylum on Rainbow Road. Okay, all right.

So we drive down there. I swear I heard police lights. So I'm like, okay, like maybe the police are shutting it down because too many people go there and they just want to usher people out. Or maybe people who actually live there on Cuba Road were like, man, fuck these guys that are trying to look around all the time. It's like, I'm just trying to live our life here. Like maybe there's nothing wrong. So like we're like looking around, looking around. I swear we saw police lights and sirens.

We get down further. There's nothing there. So I'm like, okay, this is strange again. So like, well, which way? which way do we go to this same asylum? And he's like, I don't know. I'm like, what do you mean you don't know? What's your idea?

Like, I just want to do Cuba Road. You want to do Rainbow Row now? What's going on? I don't know why my voice is so high now. What's my life? I'm scared. And like, I'm not exaggerating. I'm pretty sure.

Like, I did that sort of tone, but also not trying to show that I was that scared. So we're turning right. We don't see it. We're in like pitch black. And now I'm going from scared to kind of being like pissed. I'm like, well, what the fuck? Like it was enough to do Cuba

You had you had to just take it too far Now we got to go here We look down the other side And we do see just this iron gate And like okay I think we Oh no I think we found it And it's this really ominous and dark Long driveway right out of a Tim Burton movie

Except not as welcoming It's like Tim Burton movies as creepy as they are They're like you're still like I want to go there Yeah there's a junkiness to it this was like bizarre oh tim burton yeah yeah where it's like no level below tim burton you shall not go and you shall not pass was basically the uh the thing here pat once again's like oh my god is that it like we should hot the fence we should do this i'm like where are you like who

why are you giving the ideas here who brought you here oh wait it was me oh wait it was me because you're our asshole friend again i love you pat but still it's going to be the running joke. Every time I come on, we'll do a shout out to my asshole. Shout out to asshole, Pat. Yeah. Shout out to asshole Pat. I'm here for it. So we see that and like, so we all like actually make a choice like, okay, let's let's all get out. Like if someone's going to get out of the car, we all get out of the car. We all, it's like all for one, one for all. We got to be, let's do this. So we get pretty close to this like iron gate. And then I swear like I saw, we saw like headlights coming towards us. Like, oh, no, no, no. Like this could be a ghost car. This can be a ghost car. This

be this. So we never got too far into exploring what the house could be or what it isn't. There are legends that say some people have hopped the gate and they actually get into the abandoned ruins of the house and they make it down to the basement where apparently I've no way to confirm this or deny it. So I'm just going to state that this is what I've heard. So I'm not saying this is a fact to anybody listening. But apparently if you make it to the basement of the supposed abandoned insane asylum. There's like bloody pentagrams painted on the floor and stuff like that. And then I remember the mob backstory of Chicago because John Dillinger and Al Capone used to always come up to the north suburbs to escape Chicago a little bit for a little R&R or whatever.

But it's also very possible that they could have used this abandoned place to hide some of the dead bodies. 100%. You know what I mean? So that's where my brain goes now. Back then, it's like, dude, I gotta get home for curfew. And I don't want to look like a wuss in front of these girls. Similar times. So once we saw the headlines, we're just all like, okay, guys, we got to go. Because if the cops get us, like, we're all screwed. And we were all like athletes and we all had stuff to do.

And like, if we all got in trouble, that actually would be pretty dire consequences for school. And me, I'm terrified of what would happen if I got in trouble with the, I'd be more afraid of my mom than the police. Let's just do that. So I was like, I would been safer in jail. Yeah, I feel like I don't want to even play with this. Exactly. So that was my personal tale of Cuba and Rainbow Road and that we went a couple other times and the other times weren't as intense as the first time because you're going in,

you don't know what to expect. Yeah. You've heard people tell you stories. But I swear those orbs, everyone I've taught to that's been there, they say the same thing. The orbs like surround your car and they follow you. They're not just light refractions and, I'm not an expert in physics or anything, but again, there's no streetlights. Where are these people come from?

So there's a belief that these are the spirits of Cuba Road kind of being guardians. And I would hope that they're just nice ghosts and they're hoping that you're not going to kill anybody else. That's what I was kind of thinking that they were like surrounding your car to be like, hey, you should go back. Like, don't go now. Don't go this way. It was the Devonsawa Casper basically saying like, if you don't go, I can't. keep you. I was just going to say saying, can I keep you? That one line.

That one line changed everything for everybody for a whole generation. Yeah. And you know, it's, and it can only be said by Devin Sawa, circa the 90s. If I tried to say that. If any man tried to say it's a rap. It would be like, oof, this turned into horror movie. Devin Sauer right then, let's go. Absolutely, you can keep me. Yeah, it's up there with my favorite line deliveries of all time. It's up there with Back to the Future 3 when Martin McFly just has his realization about being called chicken and he just looks at Mad Dog Tanning and goes, he's an asshole. So it's like it's up there with that in terms of such iconic line delivery.

So that was my personal tale of Cuba Road, Rainbow Road. To be a 17, 18 year old kid who's, you know, just first of all, trying to figure out who the fuck he is as a person, which I really haven't figured out. I mean, it's really in recent years I figured that out. But trying to look cool in front of these girls with your friends. Also trying not to be the wuss of the group sort of thing. Not that I think I am, but look, when you're dealing with the supernatural, anything goes, you don't know what's going to happen. I was going to say. I'm not trying to mess with that.

No, no way. So yeah, and I did put a thing out on my Facebook last night to any my hometown friends if they had any stories they wanted to tell me that may have been intense. And I would love to share a couple with you. Yes, please do. This first one is from Kristen Koenig. So shout out to you, Kristen Koenig, who actually helped. She actually planned our 20-year reunion last year.

Oh, damn. So shout out to you, Kristen, for doing that. I don't know why you got tasked with such a. Thankless job. Yeah, I was going to say, damn. Appreciate you. So she wrote this on my Facebook. I drove around Cuba past the old cemetery and saw the floating orb of light that follows you.

Also got lost searching Rainbow Road for the asylum, traveled along a creepy little side room that turned out to be someone's driveway. Once we realized and tried to turn around, a man burst out of his house with a shotgun and scared the shit out of us. What? Okay. And then she also mentioned that there is also an urban legend that if you stop on the train tracks and honk your horns three times, a ghost train will come.

I love those kind of urban legends. Those are the most fun. Yep. We never found the train track and we did look another time, but we never found that. And maybe I probably should just go on there during the daytime to get a geography if I was smart back then. But that's just not what happened. And Kristen B. Shammel said a bunch of my friends and I drove there way back in our day late in the fall. and we saw a faint green light,

not orbs, more like Aurora Borealis style green light, emanating from that graveyard. A couple of the guys got out and went in with a flashlight to see what was going on because they thought someone was pranking or left glow sticks out there, but came back after a few minutes with no answers. But both were freaked out because one of them was sure someone tapped them lightly on the shoulder.

He went around and no one was there, and our other friend, parentheses, flashlight guy, wasn't close enough to have done it. To this day, they still get quiet and uncomfortable when we talk about it. Ooh. That gave me the chilly willies. Yeah, they got touched. Yeah.

And so it's fun to first of all hear people from people that I haven't heard from in a long time. And some of the others share with me that they heard those same urban legends and nothing really happened. But for every one of those, there's those other stories like from the two Christians. I didn't even put that together until now. I know. I was going to say. that it's a wild thing and I think that sort of stuff is fun and you know

but also I'm glad I'm in the comfort of my own home and it's just a it's a big enigma and I kind of hope that they make a movie out of it maybe I'm going to make that movie you should you must I was thinking it could be you ever seen the Curacao movie Rashaman I have no but I've heard of it

so Rashamon in the nutshell was basically a singular event but from different perspectives and how our perspectives can make the story a little different with the same result, but the journey getting there is different. That would be a good way to go about it.

Yeah, yeah. So I figured because there's so many different stories and different interpretations, I think that's how you structure the movie. It's just maybe these different tales and all it gets juxtaposed, almost Pulp Fiction style culminating into like Cooper Road and what the single thing happening there

and what everybody thinks they saw are. didn't see. Oh, that would be so cool. I want to see that. And then we can compliment that with a morbid episode with a deeper dive in the Krode. Yes. So it's just cross-promoting. All right. I think we have a game plan guys. T.M. Oh yeah. TM. TM. That's ours. Don't think so. Um, thank you for letting me share my story of Cuba Road. This is, uh, it's taking me back to my teen years. So I love that. Quite a bit ago. Yeah. That was a good one. Thank you for sharing. I like the Aurora. Borealeis green coming out of the graveyard.

I could like picture that immediately. I was like, ooh, I want to go in there. I want to go to those ruins now and see the pentagrams and shit. I know. Maybe field trip. I was just going to say field trip. I would love to host you both in my hometown because we'll do the Cooper Road thing, but also there's Smunky Dunkers,

which is the only place I get donuts. It's in my hometown of Palatine. That's sold it right there. We love a donut. I'm concerned. Or several. And my cousin. Natalie is like the head of marketing for Lou Malnati's pizza. So we'll get some deep dish pizzas

throw on our way as well. So I would love to host you to my hometown and be cool to just do like a little side quest with the morbid girls. Hell yeah. See, you just got a double. Hell yeah. Yeah, you did. Oh my. Send us dates. Yep. Hashtag made it. Our people will call your people. Let's make this happen. It's happening. It is absolutely happening. Oh, now I want deep dish. too. Well, we'll have Shelby part of the adventures as well. So that'll be a great, great thing. Shelby is part of the squad as far as I'm going to say. Hell yeah.

That's our girl right there. Well, should we go on to some random listener tales? Hell yeah, brother. We'll tell you some tales. Yeah, I love that. All right. So the one I'm going to start off with is called Boogieman Birdie and the haunting of Room 118.

Obsessed. By Sarah. Brought to you by Sarah. It says, what's up, you wonderful weirdos? My name is Sarah, spelled the correct way with no extraneous consonants, little winky face. I love the pod and have been skipping around the episodes for the last several months. I've never been much into the true crime genre, but decided to give it a go when your podcast was recommended to me by a co-worker. I love spooky shit, but tend to gravitate more towards ghost stories and paranormal type things,

rather than true crime because honestly the real life shit is way more terrifying because real life or real death. Accurate. And it freaks me out. I don't always have nightmares, but when I do, it's the kind where you can't distinguish between dreaming and being awake. Yes, I said that like the world's most interesting man from the Dos Eki's commercials. Stay spooky, my friends.

We'll do. Anyway, I've been listening for a while, but the hebi-gibis got the better of me and I had to take a break after having a nightmare involving Richard Ramirez. That's right. The night stalker decided to stalk his way into my dreams one night recently and proceeded to chase me through the halls and classrooms of the high school where I currently teach. I don't love that for you. Being a teacher in these times is scary enough.

I don't need some psycho killer thrown into the mix. Sheesh. And you are right. Being a teacher is scary enough now. And we appreciate you. They don't pay me enough to deal with that level. bullshittery, and you would think that the terror would stop there, but plot twist. My mother decides to make an appearance in the scholastic hellscape, my subconscious has so elegantly designed, and is

waiting in my classroom to convince me to sit down with Mr. Ramirez for a nice chat because he is, and I quote, a lovely young man. Excuse me while I schedule an emergency session with my therapist, because I feel like there's a lot to unpack here. So needless to say, I stepped away from the pod for all of about 24 hours. Eh, what can I say? You all are just too good at what you do. Thanks. No need to fully hold onto your butts,

but maybe make sure they are secure in case we encounter any turbulence. I'm quite proud of the fact that I've lived most of my life free from supernatural encounters. It's somewhat an achievement considering I grew up in Uber rural Georgia and spent a few years of my young life

involved in a pentacostal church where belief in the supernatural is very real. Think speaking in tongues, spirit possession, all that sort of carrying on. Anywho, after graduating high school in way back times, 2006. That's vintage. I'm 2004. So, there you go. 2014. Oof. Stabbed right in the chest. I attended Carson Newman College in another rural town in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Which one is it? I think we've been told more often that it's Appalachian. I'm going to go with that.

Because I think that is, yeah, Appalachian. I had a softball scholarship, not super relevant except to denote my tough girl status into late-blooming lesbianhood and subsequent detachment from my alter conservative religious upbringing. Shrug. All female athletes were housed in Butler Hall, named for the late Bertie Maples Butler. It's a grandiose three-story brick dormitory, complete with classical Grecian facade. Ooh, that sounds beautiful. That does. I was just thinking that. And in the lobby of the dorm hung Bertie's portrait. See the first attached image and they put an image of him. Note the creep factor of the eyes. Bertie is a moment. Or I meant her, sorry. So old Bert,

there she is. There's Bertie. Very regal Bertie. Gorgeous, gorgeous girly. So old Bert, a former graduate and faculty member of the college, had made a sizable contribution towards the construction of the dormitory in the early 50s. Apparently bestowing a ludicrous amount of cash to an Institute of Higher Learning is enough to get your name on a building, but not enough to have a say in the location of said building because the brilliant minds behind the construction decided it was a fine idea to plop a girl's dormitory in the front yard of an old-as-fuck cemetery.

Sidebar. It is not a fine idea. Side-sidebar. I'm still convinced there are graves under the foundation of the dorm. Side, side, sidebar. The threat of dead bodies didn't deter my friends and me from sledding down the cemetery hill behind the dorm on cafeteria. Oh, my God. Also, the dorm shares a property line with an abandoned hospital. Insert, hebi-jeebies. So when I moved into Butler Hall my freshman year, I managed to snag a sweet, sweet on a first floor of the east wing of the building, room 118.

Most residents lived on the east wing floors because the West halls were always vacant, and we were were told a myriad of reasons why. Mold, electrical issues, plumbing problems, hauntings, etc. I love that it goes from mold, electrical, plumbing, hauntings, you know, like just what have you. Throw that in there. Well, naturally, the little asterisk about hauntings caught my attention. And after some light reading through the annals of the college's history, I discovered that many of these stories that cropped up over the decades featured the ghost of the one and only Bertie Maples Butler, gasp. But it really wasn't too big a deal because no one lived in those halls, right?

Well, sort of. A few years before I arrived, a fraternity on campus had managed to obtain permission to host an annual haunted house in those abandoned halls of Butler dorm. That was actually quite surprising because Carson Newman is a conservative Baptist school and this particular haunted house, dubbed Fright Mayor Manor, was not some lighthearted, cheap-ass carnival fun house. I'm talking scenes of demonic conjuring, dismemberment, gore and abundance, chicken gizzards and livers.

Sign a waiver type haunted house. Damn. That's wild. Complete with gallons of rather tasty, albeit realistic fake blood, can talk concocted from Hershey's syrup, peanut butter for texture, corn syrup, and red food dye. That's interesting. Sounds like a good combo. We smelled like Reese's cups for weeks.

I say we, because as soon as I heard about the open cast call, I decided to participate as an actor in The Haunt, and it was totally rad, or whatever the youths are saying these days. I think they still say rad. That's rad. That's rad, right? I think that's rad. I think it's rad. Every weekend in October, in the entire week of Halloween, residents of Butler Hall were serenaded with screaming, wailing, chainsaws, and other spooky sounds that emitted from the rooms of the West Wing from the basement to the second. floor. That sounds awesome. Sounds rad. Aside from the general creepiness of the scenes in the haunt,

there always seemed to be a presence that most of the actors, myself included, were aware of. Like something was watching us from just beyond the next shadow. And occasionally we would catch drafts of icy wind blowing down the corridors, despite the fact that the AC units on that side of the building had not worked in years. Yep, you bet I noped my Reese's cup ass right out of there as soon as the haunt clothes for the night. Hebees and Geebies galore. I thought for sure I'd be rid of those hebi-jibes once the haunting season ended. And I went back to my comfy hebi-g-g-free zone on the East Hall. Nice wish, you naive childs. I didn't say that. She did. That Christmas, in keeping with the spirit of the season, I decided to help decorate the lobby of the dorm. Remember the creepy portrait of

Dear Sweet Birdie? Yeah, I hadn't forgotten her either. And after a night of good, wholesome, Baptist college beer pong. My jolly inebriated self thought, hmm, this old lady looks a little too scrogy. Let's deck her halls. So I promptly cut out a quick Santa Claus hat and beard and tape that shit to the glass with the confidence of Pablo motherfucking Picasso. Had iPhones existed at the time, you best believe I would have plastered my handiwork all over the gram. I stumbled my way back to my room, pleased as could be and filled with, dare I say, Christmas spirit. Imprompt passed the fuck out. We only had a few weeks left before Christmas break, and every time I walked past Bertie's portrait, I got a good laugh at the ridiculous decorations. But that was the wrong

thing to do. I had a feeling. I don't think Bertie's going to like this. You don't wall at Birdie, okay? No. Birdie just has that vibe that you don't loll at Bertie. No. About three weeks after my little craft capade, the spooky started. The portrait looked like some, looked something like the second image after I added my festive decor. I can't talk. Here's the second one. Bertie Santa Claus edition. Mind you, I didn't have a roommate at the time because the girl who had been my roomie got a promotion to RA on the second floor and moved out, which fist pump the air. Heck yeah, I'll take the solo room that's going to be sweet. Boahaha. Oh my sweet innocent summer self shaking my head.

That night upon the stroke of, you guessed it, 3 a.m. I was rudely awakened by distorted muffled screams coming from the massive 20-inch box TV on my dresser. The same massive 20-inch TV that I had turned off prior to going to bed and whose remote control rested peacefully on my desk five or six feet away from the bed where I sat now rigid and heart racing confused as fuck. The white static illuminated the room just enough for me to see my way over to the desk and retrieve the remote to turn the TV back off. It took a few minutes, but I managed to fall back asleep.

Still too disoriented to think clearly about the incident. So she just woke up to like blood-curdling screams and static on her TV. And she was like, okay. A good night's rest is important. I guess so. All right. Sarah. Priorities, man.

Priorities. You know, everybody scout them. Sarah's a tougher chick than I. I would have burned my house down. And I also played softball. I can't claim to be that tough. I played softball. Is this actually like, this is Sarah Connor from Terminator basically?

That would make more sense here. It took a few minutes, but I managed to fall back asleep, too disoriented, of course. Three weeks passed with no further disruptions, and I thought it had merely been a fluke until it happened again. Same time. 3 a.m. Same shit. TV turning on to static and muffled. fulled screaming. I don't like that.

Only this time, the closet light was on. No, no. Now, I'm someone who requires complete darkness to go to sleep because ADHD be fucking around when there's any kind of illumination. Dumb, so I don't sleep with any kind of light on, and the closet was on the opposite side of the room from my bed, and again, the TV remote was on the desk. This time, I managed to game some modicum of mental coherence to weakly vocalize what the actual fuck is happening.

And as the last syllable passed by my lips, the closet light clicked off. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. As though whatever or whoever was saying, oh, my bad, bro, I forgot you were asleep. Let me get the lights for you. Let me get the lights for you. That would have freaked me out so bad.

I feel like that was just like fucking around with her. I would have loved if she actually heard from the closet. Oh, my bad, bro. Like, I forgot you were asleep. Let me get the lights. I would have changed this story. version that's like, oh, it's okay. Oh, what?

But at this point, I'm like, nah, don't bother, because I sure is shit, ain't sleeping for the rest of the night. The following day, I recounted the story to my good friend and fellow Butler resident M, who listened with interest and said as nonchalantly as can be, hmm, sounds like

Birdie is messing with you. Great, nothing says happy holidays like a good old fashion haunting by the ghost of Christmas past. While I was thoroughly disturbed by her revelation, my inner Dean Winchester of supernatural fame had sparked to life and was running through old episodes of supernatural to remember how to 86 a ghost. Of course, salt and burn the bones. Brilliant. Or would have been if I fancied desecrating Bertrude's final resting place, which I did not.

Good, good. And actually had no idea where it was actually located. Even better. I love how that was just like, yes, I will just burn the bones and salt them. It'll be fine. So I spent the next few nights anticipating her return to my room. And sure enough, 3 a.m. on the nose. TV static, closet light. And oh, lovely, the mini fridge is now opening on its own. Like Bertie is rooting around for a snack. Something about that is really funny.

A mini fridge, just like opening and closing by itself. I like that visual. I like that. Yeah. That one doesn't feel as threatening. No, that just feels silly. It's because it's small. Yeah, it's small.

You know? That would humanize the ghost for me. I'm like, oh, you know, like in Casper, when like fat so stretch and stinky, they're eating food, like, oh, yeah. You're like, oh, help yourself. I love snacks. Looking for a snack. We got hummus. We got carrots.

Help yourself. Let me know what you want me to stock in there. I'll do it. Just leave a Post-it. Exactly. I got a Costco membership. It's all good. Yeah.

What do you like? Together. It's cool, Bertrude. What do you like? I'll buy in bulk. At my wits end, I yelled into the semi-darkness. What the fuck, Bertie? Get a life and leave me the fuck alone.

I don't know if that was quite the way you wanted to go about that. Yeah, that was mean. And swear to dog, in the midst of the static buzzing from the TV, I hear Santa Claus is coming to town. She said, get that hat off of my GD portrait right now. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had just shot the portrait. Bertie apparently was not a fan of her jolly old St.

Nick get up and decided to seek retribution by freaking me the fuck out until I removed it. So I scooted my flannel-clad ass out the door down the hall and skidded to halt in front of the damn portrait, ripping off the construction paper hat and beard and one sweeping, yoink. I love that they did it that night. They were like, you know what? I got you, well. I'm not waiting.

I'll take care of this. I trashed the offending paper and tape and slumped away to my room, the eyes of Bertie Maples Butler burning into my retreating backside. Bertrude. I peered cautiously around the door frame into my room, into my utter amazement and relief. The TV was off, the closet light was out, and no sound nor sign of any disturbance could be detected. Birdie had left the building. Well, not really the building, but at least she had returned to the West Wing, seemingly appeased.

But there was a little posted on the fridge that said, get more Oreos. I never heard anything else out of Bertie in my remaining time at Carson Newman. but I also never looked that portrait in the eye again, though I could still feel her chilly gaze follow me any time I pass through the lobby. So that's it. I apologize for the lengthiness, but what can I say?

We English teachers are a loquacious bunch. Oh, I like that word. I love that word. It's an SAT word. Yeah, it is right, like loquacious. Ooh, I'm going to try that on Scrabble. There you go. That's a lot of points.

Don't forget to keep it weird, but not so weird that you and wittingly insult the resident ghost of the oldest fuck, creepy-ass millionaire namesake of your college dormitory, and she decides to haunt you right before Christmas because your drunk ass thought it would be funny to dress her equally creepy as portrait as Santa Claus. Bye. That was a good one. That was impressive.

That was really impressive. That was great. Sarah, you need to be writing for like every movie and TV show. Truly. Writing of that. It was so good. I was there. Painting a picture.

Yeah. I liked that. Or maybe a portrait. Ooh. But um. A Bertrude portrait. I love it. I'm waiting for the movie version of this too.

maybe Nick Cage will be this investigator Investing the door, you know. He has to be. What's going on here, guys? They're ghost here. You know. I was a really good impression. I like how southern you got there.

Whatever, man. Those were both fantastic and I loved them. It felt right. Well, our next one is listener tales haunted roads. The time I let my teenagers talk me into dumb shit and I noped to the fuck out of, Hatchet Man Road, Michigan. Why did you

know, why did you yes the fuck into Hatchet Man Road in the first place? Yeah, that's absolutely terrifying. I would have always noped out of there. Me too. It says, Hello, ladies. Here is my listener tale of the time I let my teenage daughters talk me into doing something. I knew better than to do and saw a demon ghost girl and had to nop the fuck out of there.

Please excuse the bad grammar and punctuation. When I started this, I had a cold and my eardrum ruptured as well. Oh, that's funny. awful. That's horror. That's my biggest fear. I think I get a new biggest fear anytime somebody tells us something awful. There it is. I kept myself busy for a small time doing this. Still not tech savvy. Yeah, no, still not tech savvy. So I did make you a put-a-fa, but I didn't know how to double-space it. I did make it a size 14 font for your viewing pleasure, though. So just know I tried. And we appreciate you. And this is

perfect. I think it is double-spaced. Hello, ladies. My name is Amber, and yes, you can say my name. You can also use my teenager's names because if you read this on the pod, we will all just shit ourselves, just poop everywhere. I'm so sorry. Not a good visual, Amber. Well, shit. Literally. That's some good shit. Let's start off with the normal gushing.

We love you. You ladies have made us laugh and cry and feel so many emotions. I appreciate everything you ladies do and all the time you take to making sure you have all the facts while respecting all the victims and their families. Thank you. Thanks. We started listening to your pod during. the pandemic. I'd never listened to a podcast before and you were the second one I'd found and I was hooked. Then they'd listen to me or then they'd listen to it with me in the car and soon,

me listening without them would hurt feelings because they loved you just as much as I did. I love that. Thank you guys. Listener tales are their favorite and they've been begging me to send this in for a couple months so I'm finally taking the time to do it. Hell yeah. So when I was a teenager, I grew up living about a mile from the crook. This was the road or this was a road that the pavement ended on and about a mile up was a one of was a one lane bridge that was over a small cold creek it was the crick the crick it was definitely not the most perfect area to smoke pod an underage drink the couple of beers that we've hidden from our parents during the weep nope as far as my kids are concerned their mother was a perfect angel who would have never done things like that no and that's

definitely not why they never would get away with anything because i had never been there nor have I ever done that. Of course you have not. No, me either. I believe that. No way, Jose. Never. Now fast forward to last summer when I was talking to an old friend from that time period, and she said something about Hatchetman Road. And I'm like, where? And she says, The Crick, Amber. That place we used to hang out at is one of the most haunted roads in Michigan. Looking back, we'd never been there at night, except one time when my brother's car broke down. It just wouldn't start. So we ended up walking home, and as it got dark, I had been terrified. I chalked it up to just being scared of the dark and my brother trying to scare me.

So I of course tell my kids about it during one of their sleepovers where they're all trying to scare each other. I tell them about how the man was scared of the apocalypse, built a bomb shelter where he made them all live until he slowly went mad. Then trying to spare his family of what he believed was coming, he murdered all of them with a hatchet and then killed himself. Damn. That's dark. And I love that you told that story at a sleepover. I know. I love it. Nighty night kids.

Bye. This turned into all four of them begging me to take them on a drive down Hatchet Man Road. Those are some cool kids. I love those kids. And you're a cool mom. At first I said no, but let's face it, I'm kind of a pushover and I love all the spooky things. And I've definitely created these monsters of mine, so I cave and I tell them all to load up. I feel that.

Hatchet Man Road is still only a hop skip and a jump away from where I live now, so it didn't take long for all of us to pull onto the dirt side of the road and come to a stop. Just a pause so I could roll down the windows and turn off. the radio to set the mood while Alexis started recording on my phone and placed it in the placed it back in the mount it was fun creeping at all of about six miles an hour and hearing all the cracks and breaks of the twigs and the chirping of the crickets i'm there i planned on trying to scare my kids like a good parent would of course asking if they saw that while actually seeing nothing and if they heard that while knowing it was just their own heavy breathing you know just character

building. I love you, Amber. I do too. My oldest daughter, Alexis, who's 16, was sitting in the front with me, while my middle daughter, Ashlyn, 15, was in the back with two friends. I can't wait for this with my kids. I can't wait until they're like 15 and 16 and I could do this stuff. If you don't pick me up on the way, you're fake. Of course I will. Let's go. So Lex started doing the normal talk to the ghosties, asking if anyone was there. If they were and if they wanted to talk to us, they could. But there was nothing much. So we come up. to the crick and I pull over so they can get out for a minute and goof off. I get out with them and friend number one starts telling us that she's had some medium experiences and that she's

sensitive. The other girls, mainly Lex, started rolling their eyes at her. So of course, I being the sensitive that I am, tried to validate her when we all just got a terrible feeling and heard the loudest woman scream from the woods. No. I'm unsure of the kids at this point, but me being the whole ass adult that I'm supposed to be at 35, stomach dropped, and I had zero issue at that point leaving a child if they did not get into the car fast enough. I will leave your ass. You better get in this car. We are leaving. So as we all fumbled over each other tripping and getting into the car, we rolled up the windows

and locked the doors because, you know, ghosts can't get in if the doors are locked. That's the rules. I know, right? As we flipped around and started to head out, friend number two and Ash were giggling in the backseat. about how she almost lost a shoe. And what on earth was that scream, when friend number one grabbed my seat and said, there's a little girl and she's crying.

No, I'd be out of there. I'd be like, you get out of the car. Out of the car. Out of the car. No more. Tuck and roll, baby. Yeah, no. I just got all quiet because fuck that. Indeed, fuck that. Oh my God, that's absolutely terrifying.

Sorry, I lost my place. I would have literally, if she said that, I would have just turned around and I'm like, fuck that. Absolutely. Get out of the car. But then Alexis turned and looked at her all mean and says, You're full of it. You're the only one saying those things to make yourself feel cool.

I hit the brakes and was just like, what's wrong with you? And why would you say that? Lex says, if there's really a ghost, make yourself known right now. I bet you won't, though, because you're just a giant pussy. Oh, damn. My jaw hit the floor. Friend number one said with a shaking voice says, Lexi, stop. You don't say things like that.

She went full sense. She's done. I even chime in and tell her to stop. We were just trying to have fun and now she was turning into a real jerk. She then started to throw her 16-year-old teenage attitude around, and I just looked at her and said, that's it, we're going home, we're done. You're being mean to the ghost. No.

I tell the kids to make sure that they're buckled and apologize again to friend number one, who's visibly shaken and pale. Alexis isn't a jerk like that. She loves all her friends. She's a really sweet, caring, and compassionate kid. It was at this exact moment I went to turn the phone recording off. When I looked at my phone that was pointed in front of the car, my blood ran cold or hot. I don't actually recall if I knew the exact temperature, but I know that I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't even talk.

I had just hand-nudged Alexish, and she started freaking out, and soon all the girls in the car were shrieking. It was all I could do to reach up and push in the two buttons that screenshot in the trees. You could see the perfect little image of a little girl with long hair hanging around her face, just past her shoulders, and in one of her hands was a teddy bear. I don't like that at all. Pedal to the metal out of there. Goodbye. See you never. Fast in the Furious.

That's like a straight up little girl. With a teddy bear. With a teddy bear. The teddy bear makes it real. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

No. I don't like that. No, no, no, no. And then like part of me would want to make sure that it was like not a real little girl. Just like hung up in the trees. Yeah. Oh, I hate it. I don't like it.

I don't like it. So I look from the phone to the actual tree. and there's nothing. Okay, well, I guess you checked. Now it's time to leave. But I look back at the camera and she's still fucking there. It's one of those things where you can't believe

your own eyes. Open, close them, rub them. It doesn't go away. So it almost paralyzes you. But there she was standing in the trees. You could feel her. No, no, sorry. You could see her from her head to her feet.

Black hair and a white knee-length gown with the teddy hanging from her hand. Her eyes were all you could make of her facial features. and it was the darkest blackest holes I've ever seen. It's Samara. I literally hate this. David.

I don't like it. Once I came back to the realization of what was going on and gathered my bearings with teenagers screaming on all sides of me, I hit the gas and very, very vocally said, fucking no, fuck that, no fucking way. We were no longer doing six miles an hour to get the actual fuck out of there. We were actually levitating. We took flight. It was weird.

All of a sudden, we were just. flying. Yeah. In this moment, I no longer wanted to be the adult. I wanted my bed, my safe, and my warm bed, the one that has my big 230-pound burly husband in it. The same husband who probably would have said no and stuck with no, because even though he's not the responsible one in the relationship, he is not going to go ghost hunting with teenagers at midnight. Nope, that was my dumbass choice. So we finally get to the pavement. The whole mile we had to drive out, feeling like an absolute eternity and I head towards our house. It was a quiet ride until about halfway there. Lex turns to friend number one and says, I'm really sorry I acted like that back there. I honestly

don't know why I did. I just felt so angry and frustrated. And she says back to her, that's okay, it wasn't you. It was him making you feel that way. Oh, no. And every single hair I have stands up on the back of my neck. Well, girls, I have sage. Every single one of you is getting someone we get home and so is my car. The rest of the trip was all chatter from the girls laughing and giggling, and I just can't wait to get home and change my underwear that I'm pretty sure I've shot myself in. We pull into the driveway where we get out once again, tripping over each other to get into the house. Ash immediately grabbed the sage, yeah, I did, and lit it. Well, Lex started mirroring the phone to the TV so we could all watch the video that we'd just taken.

I went into my husband, still shaky and not exactly sure if I could feel my legs yet, walking up to him telling him he needed to come out and watch this. So as we all sit there and watch the recording, there is nothing. The screenshot I took where the girl was, you can only see the blackness of where her eyes were. But that's it. So we all went to bed with four teenage girls sleeping on our bedroom floor because they were too scared to sleep alone. Now, I don't scare easily. I never really have.

When I started, I was sensitive earlier. I just always know if a house is haunted. or not just from walking into it. I've cleaned houses since I was a kid with my mom because she owned her own cleaning business and doing what we would call the empties, I'd walk into a good handful, and no, I was not alone. There's a couple great stories from the ghost

who would slam doors and turn the lights off while I was in the room, but would stop if I sang along to my MP3 player, or the one where I went to walk into the basement and was so overcome with dread, I refused to go all the way down the stairs. So while I was vacuuming, the hose came undone three, three times. The third time I was watching it and at eight months pregnant, noped the fuck out of there. But this is a road of, this is a road tales. So I'll save those for a later date. Hopefully by

then I'll have another ghost story because I just moved into a house that was built in 1900 on the hill with a giant front porch overlooking the city where I can drink tea and glare with a cemetery as its backyard. It really is just a witchy kind of perfect. Hell yeah. It sounds like it. Anyways, keep it weird, but not so weird that you think it'll be fun to go on a midnight haunted adventure with a bunch of teenage girls and realize that you see a little demon ghost girl and you no longer want to be the adult anymore and you know up yourself all the way home. Amber. That was so freaky. In the Midwest too. So like Midwest we got our haunted rose.

Yeah. The Midwest themes. I love it. You guys have like a monopoly on the haunted roads. You really do. Absolutely terrifying. Damn, Amber. Illinois, they're a little more stealth about it.

It's like Cuba Road like, yeah, it sounds like. To you think that I need like the hatchet and I'm like whoa I know they're like rainbow road it's like That's a lot better this one's like hatchet man road I'd hatchy or the face road yeah I'd take the orb so for the little teddy bear girl any day oh the teddy bear girl I don't like And the deep black eyes out I hate it's a it's a it's a scary thing I am not into it I don't like it Oh yeah that's a good story though that was a really good story and then it's a little little a possible like spirit possession too because saying like she made you feel that way

yeah that's what it sounded like yeah that she was suddenly being like nasty when she's really not she was like yeah sorry I was backed in like a turd back there that wasn't me and she's like no it's fine it was him and it's like we never got further explanation on that was it the hatchet man maybe it was the hatchet man it's like if you took a ghost and juxtapose that with like get out like it's like you know like when the ghosts

are going to the bodies but this ghost puts you in the sunken place so you're fully aware what's going on, but you can't do anything. That's what's so. Oh, I don't like that. I hate that. Guys, you always send in the best freaking deals. I really do. Keep it coming.

So good. I think that's probably all we have time for today. Yeah, I got to go pick up my kids and take them to a haunted road. Yeah, we're going haunted. We're going haunted. We're going in. Let's go. Well, John, thank you so much for coming on and thank you for bringing stories with you, too.

Thanks for having me on. And I adore both you. We adore you. but as humans and I can't wait until we have an in-person meet-up and we'll do to my hometown at some point. Yes. Deep dish pizza. BFF-F-A-F.

All the deep dish. Is there anything you want to plug before we let you go? Well, as people know, that was pretty scary as every Wednesday. This, we got a really fun list of movies coming out. So just it's going to be a long first season, but we got other seasons planned as well. So just stay tuned. And I'll be doing some more of those mini deep dives on Instagram, which look for that on my Instagram and also Ash and Elaine are always very gracious about shared it on their Instagram stories

as well. So if you don't see it on mine, you'll see it on theirs, but at some point you'll see it. Because we love you guys. We love you and we love those. Go listen to that was pretty scary. Well guys, we love you so much. We hope you keep listening. And we hope you keep it weird. But not so weird that you go ghost. No, I think you should keep it so weird that you go ghost hunting and experience terrible things. Keep it this weird. Hell yeah. Yeah. Bye, guys.

Bye.