On April 12th, 1750, Joanna Southcott was born at Tally Farm, in the parish of St. Mary DeVille, in the County of Devon in Western England. The people of Devon in those days had a well-earned reputation for violent, self-centered independence bordering on what now would be considered mass narcissistic rage. Tax collection was nearly impossible in the county with the locals battering down any king’s men half-wit enough to take the job. Weddings were disfavored as contracts for mutual slavery and most lived in a state of free-love, where bed partners were rotated like staple crops. While considered hard workers, Devon laborers did not take to supervision and considered anything other than friendly advice from higher ups as an insult to their dignity. Known as loyal patriots to king and country, they did not take to open displays of either loyalty or patriotism. Instead, they considered it loyal and patriotic enough to decline from tossing rotted fruit at progressing royalty, and keeping to a minium the bleating of tongues through two-fingered salutes.
Back in the early 1700's. most of England knew the phrase " Can any good thing come out of Devon? " It was a jest of Devon’s fellow countrymen over the fact that Devon was the sole county without distinction in personages. Not a single author, painter, composer, or philosopher of note was born or raised there. There is even a question whether any had even crossed its boundaries on a dare to temporarily grace a foot on its unpleasant pastures. As for political leaders, Devon had supplied none except for Lord Hammersham, a secondary official in the Treasury Department . After mere five weeks of service, he had embezzled the queen mother’s pin money (a sum now equal to over 20 million euros) and thereafter fled to Paris. Within three months he surfaced under heavy lipstick, perfume, powder and lace, now known as Lady Hammersham.. Ultimately he opened a salon which was the talk of Paris until he himself was embezzled back into poverty by Lady Levic. She fled with the money to London, and thereafter surfaced under heavy lipstick, cologne, powder and lace as Lord Levic. The play out of this scandal lasted several years and caused Devon much grief in the jibes it allowed competiting counties. It was said that during these years no one in Devon left the county undisguised in dialect and local dress in fear of ridicule.
It was under such circumstances that Joanna grew up on a small apple tree farm. She had neither brother nor sister. As a rare only child she was greatly adored by her mother, father and their steady rotation of lovers. However, Joanna spent most of her youth alone, being typically sent outside by her amorous parents in all kinds of weather and in all seasons to amuse herself. Her favorite past time became to sit under an apple tree, and read books of religious insight, such as Jeremy Taylor’s, "On God and Man, and Sometimes Woman Also," and Frederick Birchwood’s "On the Certain and Total Damnation of the Whole Human Race, Certain Select Christians Excluded " As a result, she became very devout at an early age. Indeed, her parents claimed that her first spoken word was "Jesus" and immediately followed by her second, "Christ". The occasion of the momentous utterings was when a heavy hymn book startled poor two year old Joanna by landing near her tiny bare feet.
Joanna’s parents were poor, and generally self-educated except for about a year and a half between them of what we now call kindergarten. They kept only one book at home, the Bible, but borrowed many others, all of religious thought. Un fortunately, Joanna’s parents did not think formal education a necessity. They believed a well-educated mind was an unnecessary luxury and likely an insurmountable hindrance to social acceptance in their proudly ignorant community. Hence Joanna grew up with little formal education. But this did not hinder nor trouble her, for she knew this has been the case with very many of the world's greatest personalities from Alaric the Goth to Genghis Ghan to Attila the Hun. Despite her lack of formal education she had what her followers called "the divinely inspired intelligence of a pure heart ". Samples of such intelligence are scattered throughout her numerous writings. Further, history is replete with evidence that her reasoning power had such irrefutable persuasiveness that her opponents could only roll their eyes in wonder, smirk in awe or scratch their heads in bewildered defeat.
Joanna’s followers claim that her early life spent under the apple trees was the fulfilment of the prophetic words, " I raised thee up under the apple-trees, thereby to be my warrior in faith " (Song of Solomon). Her mother, a deeply religious woman despite her sexual license, and insatiable amorous appetite, also had said: "God had made great promises to me before she was born that she should be both a no bars fighter and a I’s-a-told-you-so’er prevailer ." These prophecies were abundantly fulfilled if one thinks of Joanna’s intellectual strength, for Joanna was a relentless, Don’t-you-walk-away- I’m-not-finished-yet debater, and a tough thinker who was utterly fearless of facts or logic. However in her private dealings with others, she was kind and demure, and rarely if ever elbowed aside the poor, lame or infirm, and only pushed or shoved through crowds to make her way. Indeed, one biographer claimed that Joanna was so sensitive in nature that she could not even be troubled to wave away a fly. There is even a pretty story told on her regarding this. It involved her famous debate with Bishop Herford in an open field in Westchester Circle. According to this story, just as the debate had begun Joanna suffered an impertinent fly landing to perch on her nose. Despite Joanna’s gentle efforts throughout the debate to dislodge her winged guest by gentle nostril flaring and snorting, and even whole face twitching and flinching, the fly would not leave its advantageous seating. Not even a nearby field full of cow pies could tempt the insect away. In the end, however, Joanna was able to win the day with the bishop without needing to batter away the, black, buzzing winged dot of God’s creation. A fanciful addition to this story has it that at the debate’s conclusion, the winged creature finally flew off and, as if in sorry penitence for its imposition, the winged annoyance then buzzed the ears of the horse pulling the defeated bishop away in his gig. This story ends colorfully with the horse allegedly startled into rearing up and then running off amuck until it fell into a nearby ravine, killing itself, the bishop and his two young charges.
Before becoming a prophetess, at an early age, as typical of girls of her generation, Joanna was sent out in to the world to earn her living in unskilled labors. She was able to obtain advantageous positions for a number of different households by working as a demi-servant. Demi-servants were specialized personal servants assigned the sole task of assisting their masters in proper daily defecation through oil and water based enemas. Joanna’s work took her across England, including to such low fiber places as Honiton, Heavitree, Okehampton, and Exeter. Her employers testified later to her unfailing honesty, upright character, and honorable conduct in all her relations with them - a testimony of questionable value given their dealings were limited to the privity where they were at the mercy of her judgment and hose.
Joanna was eighteen when the " Spirit of Truth" first became her guide and guard. She had been walking a crowded city lane on an off day, looking for nothing but exercise since her sparse wages gave her little extra to spend on purchasable enjoyment. Suddenly, she felt drawn to a nearby alley, full of drunkards, imbeciles and booksellers. Called to prayer by a skeletal half-naked mystic among the human refuse, she took his grimy hand and knelt to her knees, stopping only to pull up her skirt from the muck and evidence of close but unordered human habitation. They prayed together and as they prayed she alone saw a light descending from heaven. The light sparkled once and transformed into a dove, one with a piece of papyrus in its beak. She reached up and plucked the parchment from the mouth of the divine bird. Evidently this imprudent action exceeded the pace and timing of her expected role in this divine ritual and the mystical feathered animal squawked in outraged surprise. Perhaps forgetting its divine agency, the beaked Lord’s messenger swopped down and tried pecking her bulbous eyes. She cried out, Lord, Lord, deliver they servant! Suddenly, the Lord intervened, the bird de-ruffled its feathers, and she was allowed the paper. The bird then disappeared with a contentious squawk , leaving the divine message in her hand along with a messy reminder of its presence on her head.
The words on the parchment have become so well know in history that only great patience bears their repeating. The words stated, "Thus out of many cometh the one upon my favor doth rest – the Lord":
From then on, Joanna was the Lord’s own.
Despite the message, from 1772 to 1792 Joanna continued working as a demi-servant while she waited for the particulars of her calling to manifest. Oftentimes she lost hope thinking her vision was mere madness, or but the delusion from the working of a stuck, fattened piece of lunch laboring to down itself through her gizzard. Sometimes she thought of her whole life was wrongly guided and she thought of becoming a godless philosopher or even a follower of Joshua McHalter, a Scottish mystic. This red faced, red-breaded prophet preached the end of the world was a-neigh and that only complete poverty could save one from the predicted fire and brimstone showers of final damnation. As the willing scrape goat for the blighted generation, McHalter took the risk of damnation off his followers by pocketing their unholy lucre and burdening himself with their sinful possessions, while they awaited for final judgment, huddled in expectant wonder unsheltered outside the walls of his mansion.
Finally, in 1792 the Lord visited her in great power, to "warn her of what was coming upon the whole earth." In this year she began writing under the power of the Spirit. All of her writings were considered to have the authority of divine scripture and were all were placed in a great box (The Great Box) which was kept in the custody of one of her friends, a Margot Churlish. Her inspired writings were done in a unique manner. She would sit at a writing table in a well-lit drawing room, but then be covered in a large white lace curtain washed and laundered only in holy water. Only the broad outlines of her features could be determined. There, in this semi-privacy, whilst her disciples watched in wordless and frozen mystic wonder and delight she would scribble scribble,scribble across rough second hand parchment using a sharp quilt pen and pure black India ink. Sometimes she would write only a few minutes; others times as long as an hour. Only once did she exceed an hour, when she was inspired by the Lord into a small treatise on the financial obligations of followers. Once her inspiration was burned off her, she would put down her pen on the table, lick the envelope where the inspired parchment would be sealed for the ritual seven days, and then enclosing and sealing that recorded vision, she would give a sharp whistle towards where her senior follower sat, indicating she was done.
According to her closest disciplines thoughts which formed in her mind dropped upon the page with the rapidity of a spring cloudburst dropping phalange sized raindrops. Her prophecies all bore the signatures of at least two or more witnesses, sometimes three, or even four if literacy in the room was particularly prevalent.
In 1797 Joanna, for the first time, visited Exeter, where she made the acquaintance of the Rev. Joseph Pomeroy of St. Peter's. He was a stout, balding, man of forty-five with a mutton chop beard and a strange mixture of both strong male and female mannerisms. He had a unique and irritating habit of incessantly snapping his fingers in people’s faces doing conversation to quicken the laggard pace of their thought or speech, He became Joanna’s chief disciple and her life-long advocate in face of fierce opposition from the established clergy and the scoffers in the pews. He started a small monthly publication, called End Times, in which he published Joanna’s prophecies, editorialized on her wisdom, and entice others to follow whom he called his divine mistress of mysticism. For the first six years of his acquaintance he upheld her cause, but owing to the ridicule of his brother clergyman, Robert "Bobby" Pomeroy of St. Paul’s, he gave it up for s short period. In anger, during this breach, Joanna wrote that Pomeroy was a type of the clergy, "who doth think they shall doth save their honor by being mockers and despoilers of the doth whole; not seeking to have the truth doth cleared up, doth tried and doth proved, as I have doth commanded it. Doth, doth, doth, doth!." (Book 34, p. 39). Thus, chastised, Pompory returned to the fold, a wiser man. He would remained a believer to the very end of his life, converting to Hinduism only upon his deathbed.
In 1801 Joanna published her greatest work The Strange Effects of Faith. This treatise on faith extended over three thick volumes published simultaneously. The volumes each contained six hundred sixty-six short chapters, some of which were comprised of only two to three words and in a single instance one word. The three volumes were named like children for Joanna always considered these her divine bestowed offspring. Volume I was called Daniel Thomas , Volume II Frederick William , and the last Volume III Geraldo Petticutt. To this day church scholars still use these terms exclusively when discussing these works. Due to the sales of these works, Joanna was able to live a comfortable life.
The most controversial aspect of her controversial life was at the near end of her life and involved the birth of the Messiah Shiloh. At the age of sixty-eight, she received a revelation that she was to be the mother of a new Messiah.. At the time she received this momentous message from her Creator, Joanna lived in complete virtue and chastity with five muscular, trim, young bachelors who but for her mercy and kindness would have been homeless. They all lived in a quaint, singe-bedroom cottage, high up on a slice of English green turf, set against the a rocky shore and three-quarters surrounded by an old-world garden full of God’s mixture in wonderful disorder but plenty. In that veritable miniature of paradise to come, Joanna was prepared for the momentous event of her life - the birth of the new Messiah, to be named Shiloh. Per the revelation the child was to be fathered by the " power of the Most High " and the child was to grow to be; " a man that was to rule the nations with a rod of iron." The language of the revelation naturally caused immediate excitement and even semi-hysteria among her women followers until a further revelation clarified the meaning of rod.
To her followers, that Joanna was to be the mother of the new Messiah undoubtedly seemed the crux of her mission, and to those enamored with her writings, its only logical termination. According to Joanna the role of the new Messiah would be to establish God’s kingdom on Earth for one thousand years. What would occur after a thousand years was left open. There is no clear indication in Joanna’s writings whether Shiloh was merely Christ returned under a new name or incarnation or whether this Messiah was something else altogether. When Joanna was pressed to clarify the issue via revelation, she answered that the Lord had advised her it was an impertinent inquiry and that He was expecting his new Messiah would be given a polite greeting and hospitality no matter who showed up.
The unbelievers mocked at Joanna, claiming that it was madness to think a woman in her mid-sixties could give birth, even with her natural advantages of a wide breeder’s girth and likely chute -like birth canal. They laughed of hr divine pretensions and her relations. The derision was such that even the little ones, boys and girls of the street, joined in. Soon Joanna could not even walk in any city or sizable town without being pelted by tiny grimy hands tossing stones, rotted produce and excrement. In one incident, a group of boys–all under ten– surrounded her while she was at market on a quick trip to pick up yeast. She had been without followers or protectors and they surrounded her and with sharpened sticks, they poked her until she bleed at twenty to thirty points. Only through the intervention of a sympathetic butcher, who, noting the boys’ grimy anonymous poverty, felt free to swipe away at the boys utilizing meat cleavers in both hands.
In 1813, the Prophetess bade farewell to the quiet country retreat so dear to her, and at the command of the Spirit of God, set to go to the Great Metropolis, her name for the City of London, named by the Lord as the birthplace of Shiloh. She took up in a townhouse thought owned by a believer. Unfortunately, the believer was a renter and within a month, there were eviction proceedings instituted. Joanna’s followers tried to furnish the rent but the owner refused their offer, outraged at the use of his townhouse for the birth of some divine interloper and fearful that the faithful might at some point seize the place to enshrine it into some unspeakable Seat of Glory. When he had them all kicked out, Joanna found refuge in another townhouse, this time owned by a follower. She stayed there until the end of her pregnancy. The situation was followed by the press. Indeed, one enterprising reporter secreted his way into her house and reported his findings under a daily column entitled, Today’s Laugh. Though this reporter was repeatedly found out due to his inability to keep a straight face during afternoon prayer circles, he was able to continuously sneak back into Joanna’s closed inner circle through such inventive disguises as being a magical walking and talking lamp-post. After an extended pregnancy period of 13 months, by September 1814, Joanna’s signaled she was ready to give birth to Shiloh.
The birth of Shiloh is of great dispute. Many say he was not born at all and all that fell out during Joanna’s great labor and trembling were a large dictionary concealed in Joanna’s undergarments to mimic the state of pregnancy. Others claimed Joanna was in a pure delusion, dying at the height of her supposed arborous labors, where, before she expired, she gave laborious birth to but only a great fart. Others claim the Messiah was born and did come forth as prophesied by Joanna, fully alive at his birth, but immediately raised to heaven in his little body and great spirit, after his great Slipping Out. Per this verison, the Lord changed the timing for the new Messiah and Shiloh was thus pulled him upwards home again. The reason behind this Great Change of Plans is in dispute amongst Southcott scholars and need not delay us in closing our story on Joanna.
Upon Joanna’s death there was much angry disputing between three groups of her follower as to the proper disposal of her body. The strict constructionist of her early writings claimed that the proper disposal of her considerable remains should be by burning the body preferably on a beach, or, if need be, in a large open field, but in either case much down wind.. These advocates noted that, cremation had been favorably commented upon by Joanna in her book The Many Flavors of God." The opposing group, the loose constructionists pointed that Joanna had praised cremation only in connection with describing the proper end for her critics. As for herself, however, they argued she preferred a gentler means of body disposal such as being humbly entombed. in a large three storey, three acre, granite edifice encrusted with emeralds and diamonds. There was a third group as well, though this "group" was actually comprised of only Gerald Thanpopieni. Thanpopieni was a seven foot giant with vigorous debating skills, a complete inability to see more than one side to any question, and vocal cords amazingly resistant to lactic acid build up. He claimed that that Joanna wished to be buried in the very earth she treaded during her years of suffering and of which she took so little care of washing off from her copious body folds while alive.. While these groups debated vigorously in the parlor using open handed slapping about the body interspaced with short periods of mutual rest, a fourth group, the self-named Practicals stole the body out a back door wrapped in a large shag carpet. Even the outside mob of spectators and reporters fell for the ruse and allowed a free inspectionless pass. The Practicals swiftly brought Joanna’ remains to an abandoned beach, burned the body over a day and a half with the aid of copious amounts of whale oil and kerosene, and then with the help of two borrowed wheel barrels took the large remainer pile of burnt bone and charred dried fat to bury it in nearby St Timothy’s graveyard. Thereafter a tomb was thrown up over the grave. All this was done in three days–the Miraculous Three as church history called it. This means of disposal met the begrudging approval of the other warring groups and the church was gloriously united again in divine sanctity. This God ordained unity lasted until the great schisms of 1817, 1818, 1823, 1824, 1834, 1837, 1846, 1849,1850, 1851, 1852, 1863, 1872, 1888, 1889, 1891, 1892, 1897,1903, 1917, 1923, 1936, 1937, 1939, 1941, 1952, 1956, 1958, 1961, 1962, 1964, 1968,1971, 1972, 1976, 1977, 1982, 1987, 1990, 1992, 1994, 1997, 1999, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, and 2007.
As for Joanna’s place in history. It remains in flux. Some call her a false prophet who lead others down a path certain for hell and damnation. Others claim that she was a poor woman mislead by mental illness into thinking she was one of God’s special offspring among a family of billions. For her followers however, she remains God’s greatest prophetess who rests now for a period but who will again in better and healthier times, return to bring with her the long awaited Shiloh...
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Strange Disappearance-- James Worsen
It's difficult to dismiss unusual disappearances as fanciful stories when they take place in front of eyewitnesses. Here's another. This case began as a sizeable bet placed on a one man marathon, but ended in tragic mystery.
In 1873, James Worsen of Leamington Spa, England, was a simple butcher. The few sketches of him in the August 13, 1873 edition of the London Illustrated Weekly show him to be lanky in build, with crooked, irregularly spaced teeth, and an uniquely oblong face. In the pencil sketches, his skin resembles white dough sprinkled with a generous handful of raisins. These raisins were molasses-colored moles inherited through his grandmother, the so-called Mole Lady of Lord Barrington’s Royal Circus. Topping James unattractive countenance was a small divot of black hair as dense as uncut zoysia grass.
In the era in which James and his wife lived, there was no reliable birth control. Thus, fertile couples faced the grim prospect that the price to be paid for almost every act of sexual intercourse was a new mouth to feed. Since James and his wife were evidently both very fertile, and very active nocturnally, by the time of this story, their family had topped out at thirteen children, all under the age of fifteen. Like most simple laborers with large families, James was always hard pressed to make extra money through secondary employments.
Before taking the bet which lead to his disappearance, James had failed at a number of efforts to earn money. James first effort involved what was then called whore-mastering. For this effort he enlisted as his first whore his ugly but willing first cousin Thelma. Disaster struck when Thelma and her first customer fell immediately and deeply in love. They eloped instantly, taking with them James limited start-up funds, using the money to finance an extended Paris honeymoon. James then tried selling tainted meat products to the Royal Military, a lucre business for the times. His sole supportive political contact died just when the government was to ink a small contract. As a result, James lost out on the profitable opportunity to feed some regiments in Lancaster by supplying them wormy pork buttocks. Frustrated, James then turned to opium dealing. However, as is the case with most new sellers in the trade, he found inventory control to be impossible, particularly given the comings and goings of friends, relatives and tradesmen in his crowded hubble. He next tried a music and comedy act, enrolling his three youngest against their wills. It flopped when it was discovered that only two year old Henrietta could carry a tune and then only if it were Onward Britannia! sung in the key of C double sharp. His last effort involved following his grandmother into the side show trade by enlisting as a night-time freak show attraction He named himself the Mole King of Leamington Spa. To entice larger crowds he used black pitch to dab on extra "moles" and to exaggerate those which God had bestowed. At his first catwalk, a badly timed rain revealed his ruse. He avoided a near lynching by an outraged crowd of rowdies only through the friendly help of the Bearded Lady and her entourage. That ended that career.
Finally, fancying himself somewhat of an athlete, James started to take bets on how fast or how long he could run. Initially, he had great success. He earned enough extra income where a large number of his family was soon able to eat three meals a day. On the day of his disappearance, James had made a wager with a few gamblers from out of town that he could run 26 miles from Leamington Spa to Coventry.
Learning that James was very modest and particularly disliked running in front of ladies, the gamblers required that James run the miles nude during daylight. To entice James into taking the bet, they wagered a large sum. James could not say no. The terms being set, James made ready for the run. Noticing a fatal flaw in the terms, James enlisted the help of friends to aid him in keeping his modesty while winning the wager. He had friends hire four wagons which then had sheets draped from their sides almost to the ground. At the start of the race, James had these four sheet-draped wagons positioned so as to surround him. The gamblers cried foul, but James argued that the terms did not disallow the setup. The gamblers folded their arm as James dutifully undressed within the enclosure offered by his wagons. With a yip-yip of the driver of the front wagon, the wagons started off with James nestled within. On each wagon were two men: one of James’ friends as a driver, and one of the four gamblers determined to see this through.
The gamblers expected that James modesty would soon arise to terminate his run despite the curtaining sheets. The gamblers had much to encourage them. The wagoneers found it difficult to keep a uniform pace with each other. Moreover, they found it difficult to keep a pace with James himself. James always had a stutter-step style of running which was like a girlish skip. As a result, he tended to have an uneven speed. This unevenness was compounded by his frequent stops to retie his shoes, the only item he was allowed to wear. Thus, on more than one occasion, breaks appeared between the wagons and a glimpse could be had of James in his raw state. A few times, James’ astonished eyes met the eyes of inpertinetly curious ladies on the roadside, who, the modesty of the era notwithstanding, cranked and stretched their necks, glimpsing into his abode to catch him in the state of Adam. A quick drop of his luckily oversized hands to his front and back preserved his dignity whilst the wagoneers enclosed him again.
As James began to jog at a moderate pace toward Coventry, both he and his wagoneers found a perfect rhythm and speed. James became so sure of his preserved privacy, that witnesses reported he jogged for a while with arms stretched straight out at his sides and sometimes even with his hands folded on top of his sweat dampened hair. This placid period lasted a short time, and this peaceful trot came to a bizarre and unexpected end. As James turned onto Newbury Road, one of the main roads into Coventry, he found difficulty with large rocks in the road breaking his stride and rhythm. Typical for the time, the road was unpaved. Moreover, the road, due to heavy weather and heavy traffic, had deep and cris crossing wagon wheel trenches. These obstacles made the road difficult to navigate even at a walking pace. James at first deftly dodged the trenches and jutting rocks. But then, within the sight of the drivers of the two side wagons and the one rear wagon, and within the sight of all four gamblers/passengers, James then tripped on something. Some said it was a rock, others a deep trench cut. One said there was nothing at all and that perhaps James had tripped over his own shoes. In any event, James fell forward... but never hit the hard, grooved and rocky gravel. Instead, James completely vanished in mid-fall, his arms still stretched out from his sides like bony featherless wings, too late even to move them forward to brace him for a fall, his legs up behind him in mid air. As he fell, his eyes widened to the size of wafers and the thin lips of his mouth beat together rapidly. The only sound that came forth from his mouth before he disappeared was a short quick peep-peep-peep- peep. James’ friends recognized this sound immediately. Whenever James was under great stress , James would purse his lips and make this peeping sound until his nerves calmed or the immediate crisis passed.
The wagons were stopped in their grooved tracks. The spot of James’s disappearance remained within their enclosure. Once the few spectators realized what had happened they bullied their way by the wagons into the enclosed area. James was nowhere to be found. Thinking a trick had been played, for some of the speculators had taken side-bets on the run, the wagons were searched. Nothing. Due to the amount of wagering, the authorities immediately became involved. They initially thought the disappearance a prank, or some unusual pretext to defraud outside bettors. Once James extended family arrived, it became clear that James disappearance was real.
There were no clues of course. As required, a search of the area was made to no avail. The public followed the story for weeks, including a long article of the matter in London Illustrated Weekly. As is with such cases, the public’s interest soon waned and turned to other events both trivial and significant. Over time, James was declared dead, and his family went on the public poverty rolls. Ten of his children ultimately became indentured servants. Three ended up in India, one in Bermuda and the rest in South Ameria. Their ultimate fate is lost to history.
As what actually happened that fateful day? No one can say for sure. However, one investigator, Paul B’Gessia, published a book in 1978 called, “Goodbye World, Signed James” in which he claimed that James had fallen into a temporary rip in the time-space continuum. The theory gained some support when B'Gessia produced a worn pair of shoes which he claimed James had been wearing when he disappeared. B'Gessa story was that the battered shoes had fallen back out of a similar time-space rip during one of his investigative visits to the site of the disappearance. Some critics refused to accept the story. The shoes were cooincidentally B'Gessa's size and even were an exact match for the footwear he wore for the author's photograph on his book. However, many others were made believers by B'Gessia's book and the mysterious shoes. While B'Gessia's story is based on pure theory, even his harshest critics admit that his theory may be the best explanation to date...
In 1873, James Worsen of Leamington Spa, England, was a simple butcher. The few sketches of him in the August 13, 1873 edition of the London Illustrated Weekly show him to be lanky in build, with crooked, irregularly spaced teeth, and an uniquely oblong face. In the pencil sketches, his skin resembles white dough sprinkled with a generous handful of raisins. These raisins were molasses-colored moles inherited through his grandmother, the so-called Mole Lady of Lord Barrington’s Royal Circus. Topping James unattractive countenance was a small divot of black hair as dense as uncut zoysia grass.
In the era in which James and his wife lived, there was no reliable birth control. Thus, fertile couples faced the grim prospect that the price to be paid for almost every act of sexual intercourse was a new mouth to feed. Since James and his wife were evidently both very fertile, and very active nocturnally, by the time of this story, their family had topped out at thirteen children, all under the age of fifteen. Like most simple laborers with large families, James was always hard pressed to make extra money through secondary employments.
Before taking the bet which lead to his disappearance, James had failed at a number of efforts to earn money. James first effort involved what was then called whore-mastering. For this effort he enlisted as his first whore his ugly but willing first cousin Thelma. Disaster struck when Thelma and her first customer fell immediately and deeply in love. They eloped instantly, taking with them James limited start-up funds, using the money to finance an extended Paris honeymoon. James then tried selling tainted meat products to the Royal Military, a lucre business for the times. His sole supportive political contact died just when the government was to ink a small contract. As a result, James lost out on the profitable opportunity to feed some regiments in Lancaster by supplying them wormy pork buttocks. Frustrated, James then turned to opium dealing. However, as is the case with most new sellers in the trade, he found inventory control to be impossible, particularly given the comings and goings of friends, relatives and tradesmen in his crowded hubble. He next tried a music and comedy act, enrolling his three youngest against their wills. It flopped when it was discovered that only two year old Henrietta could carry a tune and then only if it were Onward Britannia! sung in the key of C double sharp. His last effort involved following his grandmother into the side show trade by enlisting as a night-time freak show attraction He named himself the Mole King of Leamington Spa. To entice larger crowds he used black pitch to dab on extra "moles" and to exaggerate those which God had bestowed. At his first catwalk, a badly timed rain revealed his ruse. He avoided a near lynching by an outraged crowd of rowdies only through the friendly help of the Bearded Lady and her entourage. That ended that career.
Finally, fancying himself somewhat of an athlete, James started to take bets on how fast or how long he could run. Initially, he had great success. He earned enough extra income where a large number of his family was soon able to eat three meals a day. On the day of his disappearance, James had made a wager with a few gamblers from out of town that he could run 26 miles from Leamington Spa to Coventry.
Learning that James was very modest and particularly disliked running in front of ladies, the gamblers required that James run the miles nude during daylight. To entice James into taking the bet, they wagered a large sum. James could not say no. The terms being set, James made ready for the run. Noticing a fatal flaw in the terms, James enlisted the help of friends to aid him in keeping his modesty while winning the wager. He had friends hire four wagons which then had sheets draped from their sides almost to the ground. At the start of the race, James had these four sheet-draped wagons positioned so as to surround him. The gamblers cried foul, but James argued that the terms did not disallow the setup. The gamblers folded their arm as James dutifully undressed within the enclosure offered by his wagons. With a yip-yip of the driver of the front wagon, the wagons started off with James nestled within. On each wagon were two men: one of James’ friends as a driver, and one of the four gamblers determined to see this through.
The gamblers expected that James modesty would soon arise to terminate his run despite the curtaining sheets. The gamblers had much to encourage them. The wagoneers found it difficult to keep a uniform pace with each other. Moreover, they found it difficult to keep a pace with James himself. James always had a stutter-step style of running which was like a girlish skip. As a result, he tended to have an uneven speed. This unevenness was compounded by his frequent stops to retie his shoes, the only item he was allowed to wear. Thus, on more than one occasion, breaks appeared between the wagons and a glimpse could be had of James in his raw state. A few times, James’ astonished eyes met the eyes of inpertinetly curious ladies on the roadside, who, the modesty of the era notwithstanding, cranked and stretched their necks, glimpsing into his abode to catch him in the state of Adam. A quick drop of his luckily oversized hands to his front and back preserved his dignity whilst the wagoneers enclosed him again.
As James began to jog at a moderate pace toward Coventry, both he and his wagoneers found a perfect rhythm and speed. James became so sure of his preserved privacy, that witnesses reported he jogged for a while with arms stretched straight out at his sides and sometimes even with his hands folded on top of his sweat dampened hair. This placid period lasted a short time, and this peaceful trot came to a bizarre and unexpected end. As James turned onto Newbury Road, one of the main roads into Coventry, he found difficulty with large rocks in the road breaking his stride and rhythm. Typical for the time, the road was unpaved. Moreover, the road, due to heavy weather and heavy traffic, had deep and cris crossing wagon wheel trenches. These obstacles made the road difficult to navigate even at a walking pace. James at first deftly dodged the trenches and jutting rocks. But then, within the sight of the drivers of the two side wagons and the one rear wagon, and within the sight of all four gamblers/passengers, James then tripped on something. Some said it was a rock, others a deep trench cut. One said there was nothing at all and that perhaps James had tripped over his own shoes. In any event, James fell forward... but never hit the hard, grooved and rocky gravel. Instead, James completely vanished in mid-fall, his arms still stretched out from his sides like bony featherless wings, too late even to move them forward to brace him for a fall, his legs up behind him in mid air. As he fell, his eyes widened to the size of wafers and the thin lips of his mouth beat together rapidly. The only sound that came forth from his mouth before he disappeared was a short quick peep-peep-peep- peep. James’ friends recognized this sound immediately. Whenever James was under great stress , James would purse his lips and make this peeping sound until his nerves calmed or the immediate crisis passed.
The wagons were stopped in their grooved tracks. The spot of James’s disappearance remained within their enclosure. Once the few spectators realized what had happened they bullied their way by the wagons into the enclosed area. James was nowhere to be found. Thinking a trick had been played, for some of the speculators had taken side-bets on the run, the wagons were searched. Nothing. Due to the amount of wagering, the authorities immediately became involved. They initially thought the disappearance a prank, or some unusual pretext to defraud outside bettors. Once James extended family arrived, it became clear that James disappearance was real.
There were no clues of course. As required, a search of the area was made to no avail. The public followed the story for weeks, including a long article of the matter in London Illustrated Weekly. As is with such cases, the public’s interest soon waned and turned to other events both trivial and significant. Over time, James was declared dead, and his family went on the public poverty rolls. Ten of his children ultimately became indentured servants. Three ended up in India, one in Bermuda and the rest in South Ameria. Their ultimate fate is lost to history.
As what actually happened that fateful day? No one can say for sure. However, one investigator, Paul B’Gessia, published a book in 1978 called, “Goodbye World, Signed James” in which he claimed that James had fallen into a temporary rip in the time-space continuum. The theory gained some support when B'Gessia produced a worn pair of shoes which he claimed James had been wearing when he disappeared. B'Gessa story was that the battered shoes had fallen back out of a similar time-space rip during one of his investigative visits to the site of the disappearance. Some critics refused to accept the story. The shoes were cooincidentally B'Gessa's size and even were an exact match for the footwear he wore for the author's photograph on his book. However, many others were made believers by B'Gessia's book and the mysterious shoes. While B'Gessia's story is based on pure theory, even his harshest critics admit that his theory may be the best explanation to date...
Friday, April 4, 2008
The Northeast Kingdom Triangle and The Fateful Date of December 11th
Between 1945 and 1955, the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont was the site of several completely unexplained disappearances. Strangely all such disappearance occurred on December 11th. Among some of these disappearances:
* On December 11, 1949, Mr. Jephet Tetford, a 55 year old bachelor pig farmer from Lower Cabot, vanished from a crowded bus full of religious enthusiasts on their way to a revival at Cabot's Reformed United Second Church of Christ . Before being picked up by the bus, Tetford had been on his way home on foot from a neighbor’s home. Tetford had spent the morning playing some cards with his neighbor who helped Tetford map out the logistics for a blind date his host had scheduled for him in the coming weeks. Tetford had with him a canvas bag in which he carried some proposed clothing for the date along with some self-help books on building lasting relationships. As the bus approached the sweaty farmer trudging along on the dusty rural Route 21A, the odds of the farmer being offered a ride were low. The driver of the bus, Henry Wallace, was off schedule. He was due to be in Lower Cabot in less than forty minutes. To make time, Wallace kept the accelerator firmly pressed to the floor. Moreover, while Wallace steered the rickety, converted school bus with one hand, Wallace used the other hand to hover over the horn on the ready for any sluggards clogging the sole northbound lane. Wallace had no plans to lift his foot off the accelerator whether for crossing wildlife or roadside pick-ups. If left to his discretion, Wallace would have passed the farmer, giving him only a good last second honk to make sure the farmer bandy-stepped off the main road onto the grassy roadside. However, at the insistence of the Christ-like passengers, who battered Wallace’s head with their floppy, paperback bibles, the bus was stopped and a good deed was reluctantly done. On the bus was 14 passengers. They all testified to seeing Tetford enter the bus, and give thanks to Wallace. Wallace grunted at Tetford, and thumbed him to the back of the bus. The passengers saw Tetford pass by and then take a seat near the rear of the bus. Each gave him a Christian greeting as he passed. Unbeknownst to the Christians on the bus, Tetford was something of the village atheist in lower Cabot. However, he had good manners and he returned their greetings with similar sentiments of Christian based cheer. Within minutes, Tetford propped his mud-caked boots on an empty seat, and was soon asleep. All of the passengers, who had gawked somewhat at their subject of Christian charity, turned face forward and began quietly reading to themselves from their bibles. When the bus finally reached its destination over an hour late, Tetford was gone. First to notice the disappearance was Wallace. Wallace was livid that he had failed to arrive on time. He was about to let the passengers have a strong lecture on the consequences of stopping to pick up non-paying, road-side stragglers when he noticed the principal source of his wrath was missing. Although Tetford’s belongings were still on the luggage rack and the crumbs of dried, brown dirt from his mud-caked boots lay on the empty seat upon which he had propped his feet, Tetford himself was gone. His disappearance caused somewhat of a religious hysteria on the bus. One of the riders suggested that Tetford had been translated Enoch like whilst in their midst. Some of the passengers took this statement to mean the farmer actually had been Enoch, only come disguised as a poor farmer to test their Christian mettle. Another of the enthusiasts wondered loudly whether the farmer had been Christ himself. Suddenly this person became certain of the idea, and he fell to his knees, babbling in tongues. Two others soon joined him. Bus driver Wallace was only able to contain the increasing hysteria by pressing on the horn until its loud squawk caused ears to ring, and all talking of any type to cease. Tetford’s family soon appeared and discounted these stories, noting that their relative was a mere man with calloused hands, perpetually weathered face, with more than his fair share of human frailties. Despite a sizable search and reward, Tetford has never been found.
* On December 11, 1950, an 19-year-old Taiwan-American art student named Paulette Wu vanished while hiking the Maple Trail into Glastonbury Mountain. She was seen by a middle-aged couple named Ben And Janis Points who had been strolling about 100 yards behind her. Before passing the couple, Wu had an extended conversation with the couple regarding her plans to study physics at MIT and then pursue a second degree in the law at Harvard. The couple thought the conversation unusual in that Wu admitted that she was a high school drop out without any means to pay for such an education. However, the chirpy and high spirited personality of Wu made it seem that anything might be possible for her. Mr. Points noted to her that he had a cousin who had graduated from MIT about 20 years back, and he suggested that maybe the cousin had continuing contacts with the institution which would be of help to her. Wu accepted the offer, and wrote her name and address on a scrap of paper so the cousin could contact her. On the paper, Wu had playfully scrawled beneath her name and address a cartoonist dome shaped UFO with the caption: “Beware: They’re real you know!” The dot to the exclamation mark was heart shaped. The couple hid their bemusement at this eccentric message. They gave a mild smile to the message. They weren't sure what to make of it as they had not been speaking of UFOs. Rather than engage Wu in an explanation, they decided to let her move on. She began walking at a quick pace but still she remained within their vision for quite a period. She was not an unattractive girl and the couple noted how cutely her black ponytail bounced off the bottom of her neck as she took exaggeratedly long strides which caused her body to go up and down like a slow operating piston. At this point they noted that she was not wearing socks, and the exposed top of her heels were red and bleeding from the rough edge of her sneaker riding over the exposed skin. In fact she was bleeding enough that the edge of the sneakers were a grotesque dark red. Mr. Points was about to call out to her to see if she needed medical attention.. But they lost sight of her when she followed the trail around a rocky outcropping known locally as Coolidge’s Profile. When the Points rounded the outcropping themselves, she was nowhere to be seen. The pen that she had used was in the middle of the trail. It was stabbed like a knife into the rocky soil. That pen was the only evidence that she had stayed on the trial past the rocky outcropping. The couple looked to both sides of the trail. While this area was heavily wooded, visibility was good due to the lack of foliage. Despite having a reasonably good view of both sides of the trail, they saw nothing. Police were ultimately called and searched for the girl. Her parents who lived in Worcester Massachusetts came and stayed a month helping in the search. They were impoverish and both were badly disabled: the mother by MS; the father by crippling spinal degeneration. Despite an extended effort, their sole child was never found. Sadly, her heart broken parents committed suicide soon after. Authorities blamed their lingering illnesses and extreme depression brought on by the loss of their child. Wu has not been seen nor heard from since.
* On December 11, 1953, 13-year old local resident John Maguire disappeared while visiting a neighbor’s Cabot farm. There is a saying that the typical Vermont boy is one part sweet Maple syrup, and nine parts tart apple cider. If so, John Maguire was a typical Vermont boy. Full of energy and active from the moment the sun snuck a ray pass the imposing Green Mountains to when it set over the mirror surface of ever-placid Lake George, John was a handful. His disappearance was state-wide news. On the day of Joey’s disappearance, John’s mother, Amanda, had taken John along on a visit to a neighboring pig farmer. The farmer was, Franklin Pierce, Jr., a retired State Senator. Pierce was partially blind and deaf and so for the past few years John’s mother would occasionally assist him. However on the day of John’s disappearance, the visit was purely social. Despite having been a state senator for close to thirty years, Peirce was extremely poor. He lived on a rusted second hand mobile home borrowed from his cousin. The home was precariously set on cement blocks and discarded imperfect granite stones. Set around the home were self-built shacks which Peirce used to store his limited farm equipment and house some of his small animals. Upon arrival at this humble farm, the mother went indoors. John, as was his nature, refused to go in. Like most Vermont boys, he loved the outdoors year round and in all weather. To keep an eye on her “Johnny”, the mother and her friend sat at a Formica table set by a window looking over where John played. According to the mother, at first John amused himself by smashing some large rocks against the farmer’s small concrete front walkway. After a few minutes of this, John picked up a small fallen branch. He tore off its few red-black dead leaves. With a penknife he carved a sharp point. The mother knew from past experience that John was likely planning to go poke the pigs. Despite that John had now walked out of her sight, the mother still felt comfortable about his whereabouts: from the noisy commotion now coming from the pig sty, she knew where and how he was occupying himself. After forty minutes it became suddenly quiet. The mother did not think it eerie. After being a whirlwind of energy, John often would suddenly run short. At such times, he would find the nearest fence post, tree stump or set of steps to sit and lean against to take a quick nap. The mother and her friend walked outside to check on John. Down at the pig sty John was nowhere to be found. There were smudged, ill-defined muddy footprints on the top of the soggy grass. John had evidently walked towards a nearby grassy field to go and poke at the friend’s horses. The mother noticed that in his wake, Joey had wrenched off metal strips on fence posts along the way. Standing at the fenced horses’ pasture, the mother saw something or someone bunched up like a ball and lying on the ground in the field near the horses. The tall grass obscured her view. Her friend, near sightless, was no assistance. She climbed over the fence and treaded through the ankle high grass towards the object. The closer she got to the area, the more the grass seemed to obscure her view. Her line of sight was repeatedly cut off by the horses which circled his object.. The closer she approached, the more the object/mound/person diminished as if it was being absorbed by the earth. Ultimately, just as she came upon the site, the horses ran off. Looking down, there was nothing but wet grass beaten down in a half moon shape. The outline of a young child, in a fetal position she later claimed.. The mother started screaming. Within the hour, local police searched the farm . Nothing was found. Within a week, flyers were posted, volunteers walked fields, rivers and lakes were dragged. No John. There was even a three part article on the disappearance in the Cabot Ledger. Still there were no leads. Despite the unusual circumstances of his disappearance, after a while, people soon forgot about John. After four years, the mother moved out of state, becoming a teacher’s assistant in Nashua, New Hampshire. She returned once more in 1967, perhaps grayer than could be blamed by the passing years. She helped dedicate the John Maguire Memorial baseball field for the junior high school. Sadly, John had dropped out of that school a month before he disappeared.. After dedicating the field, the mother never returned to Vermont. Yearly, upon the anniversary of his disappearance she sent a letter to editor to each of Vermont’s state-wide newspapers asking for a re-newed investigation, She died in 1972. Upon her death, the junior high school was closed due to declining tax revenues and John’s memorial field was paved over. Presently it is the location of a Stop and Shop.
* On December 11, 1949, Mr. Jephet Tetford, a 55 year old bachelor pig farmer from Lower Cabot, vanished from a crowded bus full of religious enthusiasts on their way to a revival at Cabot's Reformed United Second Church of Christ . Before being picked up by the bus, Tetford had been on his way home on foot from a neighbor’s home. Tetford had spent the morning playing some cards with his neighbor who helped Tetford map out the logistics for a blind date his host had scheduled for him in the coming weeks. Tetford had with him a canvas bag in which he carried some proposed clothing for the date along with some self-help books on building lasting relationships. As the bus approached the sweaty farmer trudging along on the dusty rural Route 21A, the odds of the farmer being offered a ride were low. The driver of the bus, Henry Wallace, was off schedule. He was due to be in Lower Cabot in less than forty minutes. To make time, Wallace kept the accelerator firmly pressed to the floor. Moreover, while Wallace steered the rickety, converted school bus with one hand, Wallace used the other hand to hover over the horn on the ready for any sluggards clogging the sole northbound lane. Wallace had no plans to lift his foot off the accelerator whether for crossing wildlife or roadside pick-ups. If left to his discretion, Wallace would have passed the farmer, giving him only a good last second honk to make sure the farmer bandy-stepped off the main road onto the grassy roadside. However, at the insistence of the Christ-like passengers, who battered Wallace’s head with their floppy, paperback bibles, the bus was stopped and a good deed was reluctantly done. On the bus was 14 passengers. They all testified to seeing Tetford enter the bus, and give thanks to Wallace. Wallace grunted at Tetford, and thumbed him to the back of the bus. The passengers saw Tetford pass by and then take a seat near the rear of the bus. Each gave him a Christian greeting as he passed. Unbeknownst to the Christians on the bus, Tetford was something of the village atheist in lower Cabot. However, he had good manners and he returned their greetings with similar sentiments of Christian based cheer. Within minutes, Tetford propped his mud-caked boots on an empty seat, and was soon asleep. All of the passengers, who had gawked somewhat at their subject of Christian charity, turned face forward and began quietly reading to themselves from their bibles. When the bus finally reached its destination over an hour late, Tetford was gone. First to notice the disappearance was Wallace. Wallace was livid that he had failed to arrive on time. He was about to let the passengers have a strong lecture on the consequences of stopping to pick up non-paying, road-side stragglers when he noticed the principal source of his wrath was missing. Although Tetford’s belongings were still on the luggage rack and the crumbs of dried, brown dirt from his mud-caked boots lay on the empty seat upon which he had propped his feet, Tetford himself was gone. His disappearance caused somewhat of a religious hysteria on the bus. One of the riders suggested that Tetford had been translated Enoch like whilst in their midst. Some of the passengers took this statement to mean the farmer actually had been Enoch, only come disguised as a poor farmer to test their Christian mettle. Another of the enthusiasts wondered loudly whether the farmer had been Christ himself. Suddenly this person became certain of the idea, and he fell to his knees, babbling in tongues. Two others soon joined him. Bus driver Wallace was only able to contain the increasing hysteria by pressing on the horn until its loud squawk caused ears to ring, and all talking of any type to cease. Tetford’s family soon appeared and discounted these stories, noting that their relative was a mere man with calloused hands, perpetually weathered face, with more than his fair share of human frailties. Despite a sizable search and reward, Tetford has never been found.
* On December 11, 1950, an 19-year-old Taiwan-American art student named Paulette Wu vanished while hiking the Maple Trail into Glastonbury Mountain. She was seen by a middle-aged couple named Ben And Janis Points who had been strolling about 100 yards behind her. Before passing the couple, Wu had an extended conversation with the couple regarding her plans to study physics at MIT and then pursue a second degree in the law at Harvard. The couple thought the conversation unusual in that Wu admitted that she was a high school drop out without any means to pay for such an education. However, the chirpy and high spirited personality of Wu made it seem that anything might be possible for her. Mr. Points noted to her that he had a cousin who had graduated from MIT about 20 years back, and he suggested that maybe the cousin had continuing contacts with the institution which would be of help to her. Wu accepted the offer, and wrote her name and address on a scrap of paper so the cousin could contact her. On the paper, Wu had playfully scrawled beneath her name and address a cartoonist dome shaped UFO with the caption: “Beware: They’re real you know!” The dot to the exclamation mark was heart shaped. The couple hid their bemusement at this eccentric message. They gave a mild smile to the message. They weren't sure what to make of it as they had not been speaking of UFOs. Rather than engage Wu in an explanation, they decided to let her move on. She began walking at a quick pace but still she remained within their vision for quite a period. She was not an unattractive girl and the couple noted how cutely her black ponytail bounced off the bottom of her neck as she took exaggeratedly long strides which caused her body to go up and down like a slow operating piston. At this point they noted that she was not wearing socks, and the exposed top of her heels were red and bleeding from the rough edge of her sneaker riding over the exposed skin. In fact she was bleeding enough that the edge of the sneakers were a grotesque dark red. Mr. Points was about to call out to her to see if she needed medical attention.. But they lost sight of her when she followed the trail around a rocky outcropping known locally as Coolidge’s Profile. When the Points rounded the outcropping themselves, she was nowhere to be seen. The pen that she had used was in the middle of the trail. It was stabbed like a knife into the rocky soil. That pen was the only evidence that she had stayed on the trial past the rocky outcropping. The couple looked to both sides of the trail. While this area was heavily wooded, visibility was good due to the lack of foliage. Despite having a reasonably good view of both sides of the trail, they saw nothing. Police were ultimately called and searched for the girl. Her parents who lived in Worcester Massachusetts came and stayed a month helping in the search. They were impoverish and both were badly disabled: the mother by MS; the father by crippling spinal degeneration. Despite an extended effort, their sole child was never found. Sadly, her heart broken parents committed suicide soon after. Authorities blamed their lingering illnesses and extreme depression brought on by the loss of their child. Wu has not been seen nor heard from since.
* On December 11, 1953, 13-year old local resident John Maguire disappeared while visiting a neighbor’s Cabot farm. There is a saying that the typical Vermont boy is one part sweet Maple syrup, and nine parts tart apple cider. If so, John Maguire was a typical Vermont boy. Full of energy and active from the moment the sun snuck a ray pass the imposing Green Mountains to when it set over the mirror surface of ever-placid Lake George, John was a handful. His disappearance was state-wide news. On the day of Joey’s disappearance, John’s mother, Amanda, had taken John along on a visit to a neighboring pig farmer. The farmer was, Franklin Pierce, Jr., a retired State Senator. Pierce was partially blind and deaf and so for the past few years John’s mother would occasionally assist him. However on the day of John’s disappearance, the visit was purely social. Despite having been a state senator for close to thirty years, Peirce was extremely poor. He lived on a rusted second hand mobile home borrowed from his cousin. The home was precariously set on cement blocks and discarded imperfect granite stones. Set around the home were self-built shacks which Peirce used to store his limited farm equipment and house some of his small animals. Upon arrival at this humble farm, the mother went indoors. John, as was his nature, refused to go in. Like most Vermont boys, he loved the outdoors year round and in all weather. To keep an eye on her “Johnny”, the mother and her friend sat at a Formica table set by a window looking over where John played. According to the mother, at first John amused himself by smashing some large rocks against the farmer’s small concrete front walkway. After a few minutes of this, John picked up a small fallen branch. He tore off its few red-black dead leaves. With a penknife he carved a sharp point. The mother knew from past experience that John was likely planning to go poke the pigs. Despite that John had now walked out of her sight, the mother still felt comfortable about his whereabouts: from the noisy commotion now coming from the pig sty, she knew where and how he was occupying himself. After forty minutes it became suddenly quiet. The mother did not think it eerie. After being a whirlwind of energy, John often would suddenly run short. At such times, he would find the nearest fence post, tree stump or set of steps to sit and lean against to take a quick nap. The mother and her friend walked outside to check on John. Down at the pig sty John was nowhere to be found. There were smudged, ill-defined muddy footprints on the top of the soggy grass. John had evidently walked towards a nearby grassy field to go and poke at the friend’s horses. The mother noticed that in his wake, Joey had wrenched off metal strips on fence posts along the way. Standing at the fenced horses’ pasture, the mother saw something or someone bunched up like a ball and lying on the ground in the field near the horses. The tall grass obscured her view. Her friend, near sightless, was no assistance. She climbed over the fence and treaded through the ankle high grass towards the object. The closer she got to the area, the more the grass seemed to obscure her view. Her line of sight was repeatedly cut off by the horses which circled his object.. The closer she approached, the more the object/mound/person diminished as if it was being absorbed by the earth. Ultimately, just as she came upon the site, the horses ran off. Looking down, there was nothing but wet grass beaten down in a half moon shape. The outline of a young child, in a fetal position she later claimed.. The mother started screaming. Within the hour, local police searched the farm . Nothing was found. Within a week, flyers were posted, volunteers walked fields, rivers and lakes were dragged. No John. There was even a three part article on the disappearance in the Cabot Ledger. Still there were no leads. Despite the unusual circumstances of his disappearance, after a while, people soon forgot about John. After four years, the mother moved out of state, becoming a teacher’s assistant in Nashua, New Hampshire. She returned once more in 1967, perhaps grayer than could be blamed by the passing years. She helped dedicate the John Maguire Memorial baseball field for the junior high school. Sadly, John had dropped out of that school a month before he disappeared.. After dedicating the field, the mother never returned to Vermont. Yearly, upon the anniversary of his disappearance she sent a letter to editor to each of Vermont’s state-wide newspapers asking for a re-newed investigation, She died in 1972. Upon her death, the junior high school was closed due to declining tax revenues and John’s memorial field was paved over. Presently it is the location of a Stop and Shop.
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