Barek Halfhand's Posts - Architects of a New Dawn2024-03-28T18:27:10ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhandhttps://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/2980543929?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1https://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=2u6o3nad77wm4&xn_auth=noRoad Trip 2012tag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2012-03-09:2227378:BlogPost:3319092012-03-09T20:57:10.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<p>Road Trip 2012 <br></br> by Barek Halfhand</p>
<p>I learned of “The Murder Homestead” by way of referral and it struck me as both pretentious while at the same time provocative but regardless I couldn’t resist going there once an emailed photo landed in my inbox…<br></br> I’m not entirely sure of precisely what contributory factors may be responsible actuating the maniacal spirit that dwells within the walls of that small, abandoned ranch style home on the hill…perhaps it has something to do with…</p>
<p>Road Trip 2012 <br/> by Barek Halfhand</p>
<p>I learned of “The Murder Homestead” by way of referral and it struck me as both pretentious while at the same time provocative but regardless I couldn’t resist going there once an emailed photo landed in my inbox…<br/> I’m not entirely sure of precisely what contributory factors may be responsible actuating the maniacal spirit that dwells within the walls of that small, abandoned ranch style home on the hill…perhaps it has something to do with environmental triggers, an unseen supernatural governing force, adherence to “The Paranormal Rulebook” or even the oncoming galactic alignment but what really matters is that the presence of a raw, indelible anger is which unmistakable upon arrival … The events of that night remain speculative and despite importuning my turgid tipster for hard facts, his evasive demeanor provided little in the way of additional information or even the exact nature of the implied disturbance … I later learned that the entire community seems tight lipped concerning the night off bloodshed that transpired back in the mid 90’s and as I was hard pressed to find any record of the incident on the net or local library I stared to wonder how much of this was the product of creative dog wagging …Once inside the diminutive domicile, there was an odd dearth of country warmth that a quant, wood paneled, modestly decorated and rustically simplistic home would ordinarily exude but the mood here was one of blind hostility and rage…the missing sections of carpentering didn’t exactly to validate the temerity of my Tipster or lend additional credence to the verisimilitude of the story but the dark stained floor precisely where he contended it would be at least confirmed he had been inside the house …</p>
<p>The 6 foot 4 inch specter that flashed into solidity without notice expressed little in the way of compunction for his corporeal misdeeds…the reprobate mind of a killer seems to maintain its inverse integrity in death and in some cases it intensifies depending on the environment but this one in particular seemed to draw energy from source as sour and pestilent as the stagnant water festering in the clogged bathroom sink …”I told them to stop making noise” …his rictus grin revealed teeth in dire need of dentistry even in death and he smelled of carrion and rot … he lunged for me from the swirling vortex and I side stepped him with my panther like agility… turning his eyes glowed like 2 Kingston charcoals from a late night summer barbeque and a dark inchor began to ooze from his orifices…”I suppose you think I’m a bad father don’t you?” He asked blithely as his fist smashed into the wood paneling with a deafening CRACK, narrowly missing my face and showering me with splinters as I slid to the floor and rolled to the side in evasion …the entire hallway took on an scarlet glow as he lumbered towards me and I kicked myself upright and away from his stomping boot … “I think you were every bit inadequate in life as you are in death and you penalized your family for it” I curtly informed him as I stopped mid kitchen and stood my ground …this knocked him backwards as if I struck him with a physical blow, the room suddenly regained its natural hue and he took on a gray pallor but resumed his stiff legged lurch towards me. .. “Bad father?” I continued, “You weren’t a father at all were you? ...the only time you acknowledged your children is when you got drunk and beat them.”… cracks formed on his face and a chunk of discolored flesh fell from his cheek leaving a gaping black wound, yet he clambered on reaching for me with his outstretched arms and trembling hands …</p>
<p>”When your wife attempted to intervene you beat her too didn’t you?” I crossed my arms and leveled the most judgmental glare I could muster …”Coward!” I accused and as I felt the tingling static charge begin to build and rush up my arm, I held up my hand to watch the tiny sparks play about my fingertips …His eyes no longer burned with Hells energy, now they were just yellowed glassy sunken orbs and more skin flaked from his face as the pilfered bioplasm he siphoned from the nearby cemetery began to lose its already unstable cohesion …”Time to fry ” I informed him and with all the campy theatrics of a Shakespearean understudy, I unleashed a torrent of blinding white fire from my hands that blasted the pathetic ghoul reeling and melting like the Nazis did when the Arc Of The Covenant was opened in “Raiders” … ducking the second wave of searing psyche I threw at him, he ran for the now arrhythmic, pulsating vortex in the living room and dove towards its collapsing nucleus … chunks of flesh sloughed from his decaying hide and slapped the floor as he dove for shrinking portal…the echoes of his tormented screams faded as I sealed the temporal rift and placed a mental padlock on it …</p>
<p>Exiting the house to get photos from the rear and squinting in the afternoon sun, I noticed the shopping cart sitting in the backyard begin to move my direction but stopped when I raised my hand …I realized there must have been some truth to the legend my source relayed to me based on the entities’ reaction to my indictments …or maybe this trickster was simply behaving the way I expected him to? Either way, I seldom fear any sort of attachments or supernatural stalkers when I visit these locations because I firmly believe that I can neutralize them with a blast of “The Force” like The Emperor from Star Wars… whether or not it is all in my head is irrelevant …<br/> The Gargoyle was slightly scorched but remain largely unscathed as it sat menacingly on the doorstep of the charred home …This was my second trip “The Inferno House “in a week and the blackened husk of a home had completely collapsed into a cinder heap of refried rubble the second time around …This site was another tip from an even less credulous source than the prior and as some poor leads in the past may have temporarily stultified this scout as competent, I was taken aback by the smoldering scene before me when I first rolled into the gravel driveway …what would have under any other circumstance constituted a serene country scene with a tree lined backyard and mountains spying over the tree tops was a singed and reeking wreck, symbolic of the darkened souls that lived here before their own incendiary lifestyles engulfed them at the end …<br/>
My interest in criminal psychology has revealed a recurring sentiment lamented by law Enforcement, Behavioral Analysts or those who work in the field of Addiction Medicine whenever one illegal drug in particular is involved as I have noticed that many refer to methamphetamine or “meth” as one that “opens the floodgates of Hell” or as being “Satan’s drug of choice” etc. … All religious allegory aside, the the occupants of The Inferno House suffered a hellish demise timbered by the associated addiction, greed, lust, peripheral violence and a general sense of self demoralization…There has always been a dispiriting connotation connected to drug trafficking but there is a certain stigma attached to the procurement and manufacturing of meth that has earned these makeshift labs the dubious distraction of the Hell Harbingers…<br/>
The Inferno House would have been an all too typical story had the supernatural aftermath of the blaze not made this one a standout …the highly volatile chemicals required to process this highly potent stimulant are not only a caustic, corrosive biohazard but it is extremely flammable and known explode like napalm at the slightest agitation or exposure to flame but word is that this blaze was intentionally set in opposition the riot gear affected DEA agents pounding on the front door demanding entry …</p>
<p>Before the local Fire Dept. was deployed several witness watched as three humanoid figures strolled from the front door completely engulfed in flames and stood side by side completely still on the grass before the conflagration consumed them…A deafening, high pitch wail coincided with their vanishing and the core fire flashed a little brighter before shrinking to its steady burn and steam billowing hiss from the water jets now concentrating at its nucleus from the hoses of several fire gear festooned combatants …</p>
<p>The smell of burned plastic, charred wood and nondescript chemicals mingled with the mountain air in an oddly pleasant sort of way, but the obsidian stain blackening the center of this property still seemed to smolder albeit the fact that the fire had been completely extinguished for over a week…walking up to the font stop the first time out I kept expecting to see a newly posted Real Estate sign covered with red spray painted graffiti proclaiming: “CARRIE WHITE BURNS IN HELL” …looking inside the front picture window frame, the absolute totality of the destruction became quite apparent as the remaining structural skeleton looked to be teetering on collapse…there was little in the way of discernible features inside the house save for a few plumbing fixtures, heating ducts and the miscellaneous personal tchotchkes scattered about the exterior lawn and crawlspace … <br/> Walking around back for more photos I felt a scratching cold claw grip my sleeveless arm and caught off guard, I jumped at the sight of the soot blackened figure that stood before me …I would have probably let out an audible yelp save for the irony that the fire scotched specter was smoking a cigarette …the cigarette being the sole white colored aspect of this apparition, a black smudge was clearly visible at the filter tip where his lips touched it when he tapped the ash from its end…”Are you the insurance adjustor? You’re a little late” he said in rasping, grating voice…as he threw his head back to cackle at his own inane witticism, his neck spit open and smoke seeped from the gaping, bloodless wound…”I’m just here taking photos…your house?” I asked attempting to regain my composure …”Yeah, you know what they say about smoking in bed” he quipped doubling over to slap his knee thus expelling a multi directional ashen plume …”If you’ll pardon my candor, do you find your present predicament preferable to any legal repercussions you may have faced by admitting the DEA Agents inside?” I asked affecting my best Spock-like timbre …”I’m free ain’t I?” he countered, his voice resonated with a growing agitation…”from where I stand you are every bit the prisoner of your addiction and greed now as you were in life” I pressed …”Are you a cop?” he asked with tangible contempt…”No, just another bad blogger with a camera” I replied emotionlessly …I noticed his head had partially collapsed and his entire form had begun to contort and return to the state of entropy from which it had spawn …”You’re no better than me, who are you to judge me?” his voice warbled as he continued to deconstruct …”I’m not here to judge you, I’m simply making an observation” I responded maintaining my icy demeanor …”Condescending, self- righteous @#$*!”…He was little more than a pile of ashes and a cigarette butt by the time I reiterated that I was not there to judge him …a truck bouncing noisily over a pothole on the nearby road broke the link and returned me to the “here and now”… walking away I resisted the urge to look back for the smoking cigarette butt …</p>
<p>The Old Cemetery is located just outside of Cleveland OH, and while this was a considerable deviation from my planned path, this site was relayed to me from a new and extremely reliable seeming source …<br/> The early morning chill was sobering as I squinted in the rising sun and after draining the last of the gas station 20 ounce coffee, the steam still rose from the empty cup as I dropped into a trash can near the cemetery entrance …There has been many rumored sightings of a young woman roaming these grounds over the years but for some reason there has allegedly been a spike in “EMF activity” lately according to my new protégé and concurrently; an increase in sightings …The morning sun glinted off the frosted tombstones and grass creating a strange kaleidoscope effect in camera’s LED display forcing me to delete and reshoot several shots initially before resigning to the fact that most pictures would turn out this way for at least another 30 minutes…In adherence to my cemetery exploration policy; I policed the immediate grounds for garbage and straightened up some of the monument decorations before returning my attention to the photography at hand …It was a beautiful morning and the quiet serenity and tranquility of the property was a spiritual experience in itself , the photos turned out better than I expected and an auric warmth pervaded the majority of the shots I captured …I did hear some distant weeping a one point but was unable to pinpoint the origin…I will let you draw your own impressions from the photos as I feel they stand on their own …</p>
<p>The historic facts and specific details surrounding the disturbances reported to be occurring at The Old Factory were sketchy so inside access was not pursued but I did stop for a few exterior shots….Hard to believe this industrial derelict was one a bustling hub of production and manufacturing activity a mere decade or so ago but now it has joined the ranks of the Rust Belt like so many others …Legend contends that a second shift foreman (whom died of a heart attack on the job) still prowls the assembly plant floor complete with a hard hat and bull horn barking orders over the now quite machinery ….<br/> More often than not I act on impulses and “hunches” when it comes to deciding which locations to explore…whether or not my intuitive compass is magnetized by a source external to my inherent instinctual barometer is a matter of individual discretion and personal belief systems but I prefer to embark upon these expeditions with an almost fantastical mind set completely open and receptive to subjective suggestion…To some it is an almost reckless abandon and rebellious disregard for the stringent ghost buster protocols to which so many feel strict compliance must be observed ... once liberation from this imposed supposition has been achieved, this is when the barriers begin to dissolve (IMO)…the liberation of “nothing to prove” is the ultimate emancipation from the rigors of pseudo-science …this faux science has merely managed to encourage more in the way of false dichotomies and gratuitous cynical skepticism than actual data but I digress…</p>
<p>Here's the related Youtube video:<br/> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GERLyJAa9c0">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GERLyJAa9c0</a></p>
<p>Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (2-2012) 316 total....b<br/> <a href="http://s790.photobucket.com/albums/yy188/TheNotoriousMrhalfhand/Road%20Trip%202012/">http://s790.photobucket.com/albums/yy188/TheNotoriousMrhalfhand/Road%20Trip%202012/</a></p>
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<p>----------------------------<br/> <img src="http://spiritualphotographybybarekh.webs.com/k16zd5-HN.jpg" alt=""/></p>The Congress Hotel, Fort Dearborn and the old Chicago Main Library.tag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2012-01-13:2227378:BlogPost:3260652012-01-13T19:54:13.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<p><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The Congress Hotel, Fort Dearborn and the old Chicago Main Library.</strong></span><br></br><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>by Barek Halfhand</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The old gothic architecture of the building with the neon red “CONGRESS HOTEL” sign glowing at it’s anterior has been a prominent fixture of the Chicago nighted skyline for over a century...it is…</strong></span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The Congress Hotel, Fort Dearborn and the old Chicago Main Library.</strong></span><br/><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>by Barek Halfhand</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The old gothic architecture of the building with the neon red “CONGRESS HOTEL” sign glowing at it’s anterior has been a prominent fixture of the Chicago nighted skyline for over a century...it is still clearly visible from Lake Shore Drive against the modern backdrop of contemporary skyscrapers towering overheard...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Upon conducting research for my last article; “Ghosts of the Haymarket Riot”, I was reminded of the 1893 Columbian Exposition/serial killer H.H. Homes (Devil in The White City) and the fact that a notoriously haunted Chicago hotel was built that same year to accommodate the fair visitors and tourists. The Congress Hotel went on to be owned by Al Capone and he even resided there in suite 800... he was alleged to often hold court in one of many of the banquette rooms but I am unsure if the room I visited was one of them. Presidents Grover Cleveland, William McKinley, Teddy Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, Woodrow Wilson, Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, and Franklin Roosevelt all were guests or visitors to this historic Michigan Avenue Icon over the years…</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The Gold Ballroom is alleged to be the most active while the Elizabethan Room the most historically significant as it has transformed from a stylish 20’s nightclub to an NBC bandstand radio headquarters featuring Benny Goodman as the house band in the mid 30’s... While the notorious Gold and Elizabethan Rooms (Ballrooms) were inaccessible at the time my first visit, I was tipped off by a reliable source that one of the smaller banquette rooms was experiencing a disturbance though specifics were not intimated nor was it recondite as to whether this has been an ongoing situation... The prolific dark energies of that (undisclosed) banquet room was almost overwhelming as I entered the through the double doors into the darkness. The camera flash helped to illuminate the ornate arched ceiling and circling balcony above and the fading, original mural painting overhead looked to be in a pristine state save for some visible chipping and flaking…the stacked chairs leaned precariously aside the white clothed tables, Mylar snowflake decorations sparkled from their fish lines suspended above…the eerie stillness and stale air of the late evening event room belied the still bustling Michigan Avenue just outside the outer congregation area windows…</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Fumbling in the semi darkness to swap the SD card in my camera, I felt that familiar hum in my solar plexus and with my usual feigned nonchalance, I turned to confront the pale, waifish woman in 1920's era flapper garb glaring accusingly at me 10 feet or so away …” Um, Hi” I said (I never have anything pre-written for these encounters) She stood motionlessly grimacing at me…I noticed what appeared to be dried blood on her left temple as I casually began to move towards the door and as I stopped a few feet from the exit to look back she was gone…a stack of chairs crashed to the hardwood dance floor as I exited …</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The original Main Chicago Public Library branch was an impromptu addition to my itinerary and once inside I was pleased with it as fortunate happenstance…As some of you know; certain buildings or geographical locations have a certain allure or attraction that hints at the presence of supernatural activity or preternatural energies...whether ore not this perception is veridical as one resultant of super-sensory stimuli is a matter of personal belief as only anecdotal evidence exists but this building hit me hard enough in passing to back-track a half a block get a look inside...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>The multi leveled structure hosted a comfortable group of readers..a winding wooden railed staircase led to the second floor where an amiable librarian asked if he could help me...admitting my primary interest was in photographing various aspects of the building more than the wealth of books and multi media reference material it houses, he directed me to the 3rd floor “Tiffany Room” where a lighted dome ceiling mosaic is centered over a small auditorium ...a young trio of a pianist, cellist and violinist practiced for what looked to be a recital or presentation under the scrutinous eye of a humorless seeming instructor...the slightly elevating spectator seating was backed by arch shaped windows overlooking Washington St ...after a few flash-less photos, I quietly departed while the instructor chastened the pianist for some minor tempo cadence miscues but was much less scornful than I expected based on his general glowering disposition ...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Michigan Avenue was not only a gangster battle ground in the roaring 20's...the Fort Dearborn Massacre Memorial/site at the foot of a bridge crossing Michigan at Wacker Drive was also one of my predetermined target locations...the Fort’s fleeing occupants who were ordered to evacuate in August of 1812 due to the threat of an eminent attack by a force of Potawatomi Indians 500 strong, were subsequently ambushed which left 86 of the 148 soldiers, women and children dead...the fort was burned the next day ...A second fort was constructed in 1816, abandoned and re-garrisoned during a conflict with the Winnebago Indians and later; the Black Hawk War...the last of remnants of the fort and satellite buildings were completely obliterated in 1871 by the Great Chicago Fire...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>There is a very cold and isolated feeling of despair on that bridge that transcends the aesthetic inhospitably of the wind chilled winter air and frigid water so far below ...this is something I had noticed when I have walked that same bridge so many times regardless of the season in the past without giving notice to the plaque inscriptions and wall sculpture on both sides ...a street person in the middle of the bridge looked to be engaging people that walked by with whatever panhandling presentation he had concocted and as I do hand out my spare change and odd bills from time to time, I was short on paper tender so I opted to feign a cell phone conversation as I approached him ...99.9 percent of the time they let me pass without incident but the sadness this man radiated caused me to make eye contact as I passed ...many of these homeless are scam artists that are experts at tugging at heartstrings but the sorrow I felt from this man haunted me for days...if I’m not mistaken, a man was shot and killed point blank on this very bride a few years back during the lunch hour ...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>North of the Fort Dearborn site and next to the WGN building, is a 26 foot tall Marilyn Monroe statue that has become quite a point of interest as many tourists seemed to be stopping to get photos of themselves between the legs of Marilyn striking that famous pose holding down her steam grate upturned dress...the artist must have felt her true voluptuous physique was incongruent with today’s perception of slender beauty albeit the resurgence of bountiful buxomness thanks to the new Kim Kardashian sensibility of collective pop culture fashion conscience... my peripheral vision kept seeing the nearby bronze statue of legendary Cubs announcer; Jack Brickhouse leaning over to look up Marilyn’s dress...</strong></span></p>
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<p><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (12-2011) ....b</strong></span> <br/><a href="http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/The%20Congress%20Hotel-%20Fort%20Dearborn%20and%20the%20Old%20Chic/" target="_blank">http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/The%20Congress%20Hotel-%20Fort%20Dearborn%20and%20the%20Old%20Chic/</a></p>
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<p><img class="align-full" src="http://i473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/sighalfhandnation.jpg"/></p>The Ghosts Of The Haymarket Riottag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2011-12-13:2227378:BlogPost:3193692011-12-13T19:00:00.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Ghosts of the Haymarket Riot</strong></em></span><br></br> <span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>by Barek Halfhand</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Carter Harrison (Sr.) administration saw it’s share of turmoil during his stint as Chicago mayor...The nation’s first prolific serial killer; H.H. Holmes prowled the periphery of the 1893 Columbian Exposition (White City) to prey upon tourists, urban transplants and…</strong></em></span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Ghosts of the Haymarket Riot</strong></em></span><br/> <span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>by Barek Halfhand</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Carter Harrison (Sr.) administration saw it’s share of turmoil during his stint as Chicago mayor...The nation’s first prolific serial killer; H.H. Holmes prowled the periphery of the 1893 Columbian Exposition (White City) to prey upon tourists, urban transplants and transients...ironically Mayor Harrison would be murdered by a political anarchist in the foyer of his Ashland Avenue mansion mere days before he was to address the festival crowd during the closing ceremony of the fair and a few months after the three remaining Haymarket anarchists/activists were officially granted a gubernatorial pardon...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Columbian Exposition Fair that was a gargantuan undertaking of a project, fraught with engineering flaws, architectural adversity, political stalemates, labor deputes and uncompromising deadlines that many doubted could be met concurrent with the scheduled grand opening ...Sadly while the unmatched success of the fair was collectively viewed by many as a symbolic epoch in the industrial evolution and a cultural renaissance unilaterally, the social unrest, political upheaval and labor relations tumult that so divided the city and ended his first term a mere 7 years earlier revisited the mayor one last time by way of a lone gunman on Oct 28th 1893 abruptly ending his second term and life at the age of 68... His son; Harrison Carter Jr., would be later elected 1911 for a single four year run...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The old adage about “history repeating itself” while cliche to some, is often a poignant reminder of how current events can so closely parallel those of over a century ago... 2011 saw the “Occupy America” movement and with it the rhetoric that often included references to anarchy, socialist ideology, civil disobedience, economic reform, political unrest and allegations of police brutality. While the Haymarket Riot/Affair/Massacre incident ultimately changed the popular perception of protest organizers to many, a case of simple mis-communication and poor editorial judgement by organizers became the focal point of prosecutorial evidence intended to vilify the labor organizers following the Haymarket disaster ....a single word (revenge!) that was later cited as incendiary was inadvertently printed in bold at the top of number of flyers circulated to announce the organized protest/meeting at Haymarket Square ...it was later alleged that this may have inspired the premeditated assembly of pipe bombs and generally served as the catalyst to the violence that transpired on that infamous day in Chicago history and union solidarity...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Mayor Carter Harrison attended the planned “Haymarket Meeting” on Tuesday May 4, 1886 with the implied intention of quelling any resurgent violence in the wake of the McCormick's Reaper Works factory incident...a volatile clash between striking workers and replacement “scabs”at the company that would later be renamed “International Harvester” erupted in violence with police intervening leaving one worker dead and several injured...Mayor Harrison hoped his presence would help to mitigate the growing animosity between organized labor and the police in the wake of the previous day’s debacle and perhaps even help to usage the growing polarization between organized labor and what they collectively viewed as tyrannical, autocratic local business leaders insensitive to the plight of the common working man and blinded by their own elitism ans overt avarice...Outspoken Businessmen and entrepreneurs such as Cyrus McCormick and Marshall Field, both staunchly sacrosanct industrialists, were diametrically opposed to what they perceived as these labor activists being little more than mob mentality trouble makers and subversives. The pragmatic and at times hubristic Mayor Harrison steadfastly believed his innate predilection for mediation and arbitration may be able to minimize tensions on both sides of the table and in the instance of Haymarket, he overestimated the calming effect his mere presence would have at this potentially volatile meeting ...A standardized 8 hour workday would not finally be adopted nationally until 1939 but the 10-12 hour mandatory workdays in hot factories and absence of healthcare benefits was primarily at the root of the worker objections and the basis for the strike at the Reaper Works plant ...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>If a single imprudently printed word “REVENGE!” boldly effacing the 25,000 flyers that were distributed heralding the Haymarket Meeting was to blame for the chaos that ensued that fateful May evening is still the subject of speculation and protracted debate...The labor activist/anarchist; August Spies who drafted the flyer, 2 publishers of the IWPA newsprint (International Working People's Association) and five others would find themselves co defendants in one of the most celebrated civil disobedience court cases of the late 19th century ...The May 5th assembly on Des Plaines Ave. drew a crowd of close to 1500-2000 attendees despite the inclement cold and rainy weather ...original estimates projected possible crowd in excess of 20,000 strong and few seem to be able to agree on how the meeting may have played out had the weather been more hospitable...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The crowd was relatively sedate during the scheduled speeches but tempers flared when the a phalanx of police began to mobilize and disperse the crowd and in defiance of Mayor Harrison’s directives issued to the police chief in the interest of defusing another potentially volatile situation, the police were reportedly more aggressive and surly than necessary ...witnesses describe a wide arching trajectory object with a telltale smoke trail flying in the direction of the police where the improvisational pipe-bomb explosive detonated with a “crack” sending a diameter of shredding shrapnel into in to the advancing police unit...while it is unclear if any of the 7 police casualties were the direct result of the bomb, the stunned police unit immediately opened fire in the general direction of the crowd which in the end resulted in the death of seven police officers, four attendees/civilians and the injury of 60 or more others...most if not all of the 7 police fatalities are theorized to be resultant of confused, misdirected shooting from other police officers firing indiscriminately into the crowd...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>An period of over-reactionary panic ensued and hundreds were said to be arrested, detained, beaten, interrogated and coerced into confessions...at first there was an element of public outrage against the “anarchists” in the weeks following the Haymarket incident as the police officials and newspapers labeled the labor activists as seditious union agitators, subversives and even revolutionary terrorists intent on destabilizing the entire capitalist infrastructure ... In all, 8 were eventually charged with conspiring to commit murder and inciting a riot based on what is today unilaterally agreed to be completely fabricated evidence...7 were convicted, 4 were hanged, one committed suicide in Cook County Jail’s Death-Row and 3 were eventually pardoned by Governor Altgeld in an act of clemency that irreparably damaged his political career and questionably labeled him as “anarchist friendly”...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The trial itself was a celebrated media circus and public attitudes started to swing in the favor of the defendants even elevating them to rock-star popularity and some, ultimately martyrdom in the eyes of the working class ...One of the four that was hung; August Spies (the evening’s first speaker at Haymarket) even cultivated a romantic courtship with an admirer with whom he corresponded and married in prison before his execution in 1887...Another of the Haymarket Meetings’ scheduled speakers; Albert Parsons a member of the labor/socialist party and one of the two publishers on trial responsible for the infamous incendiary “revenge!” flyer turned himself in by walking into the courtroom after returning from Wisconsin where pre-extradition laws insulated him from a prosecution many felt was unjust...Parsons waived petitioning and appealing to the rubric of then Governor Oglesby to request commuting his sentence despite the pleas of many for him to do so and instead insisted on sharing the fate of his colleagues...He is still commemorated today by many for his noble act of self sacrifice in what he viewed as in the best interest of the common working man for which he fought so tirelessly...Albeit a Socialist ideologue Parsons earned his name on “The Haymarket Martyrs' Monument” in near west suburban Forest Park in the historic and scenic Forest Home Cemetery...His name is etched in the rear of the edifice along with August Spies, Adolf Fischer (Haymarket organizer), George Engel (labor leader who also refused to plea for a commuted sentence) and Louis Lingg (radical activist connected to the bomb making, but did not attend the Haymarket meeting) ...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Haymarket Martyrs’ Monument was the first stop on this dual location excursion ...So many times in the past I would be sitting on the traffic choked Eisenhower Expressway, (the “Ike”) one of the main arteries into the city, gazing absent-minded into the Gothic old cemetery grounds that is literally bordered by the shoulder of the highway and a chainlink fence...The front gate is unremarkable but actually has a monument showroom attached to the front office left of the entrance of in the manicured expanse of the cemetery ground beyond there looked to be an even seeming balance of both modest markers and elaborately confected memorials...the unmistakable trumpeting of horns immediately caught my attention and rolling down my window to pinpoint the source, I noticed a crowd congregating in the southwest corner and giving care not to disrupt the proceedings it didn’t take long to determine this was a Mexican funeral in progress ...the 4-5 uniformed Mariachi band members stood off to the rear of the assembled semicircle of mourners and the festive, upbeat tempo of the music seemed to be anything but mournful... in retrospection I was intrigued by the celebratory atmosphere of the interment proceedings, most cultures and popular religions seem to view death as transitory, or spiritually gradient in some capacity (depending on the individual) so why not treat death as a graduation ceremony as opposed to a ritual of termination and life cessation? ...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Haymarket Martyrs’ Monument itself almost has a menacing aesthetic from a distance with it’s shrouded entity with an incapacitated man at her feet...The reaper-esque looking figure was crafted to represent the female incarnation of “Justice” and the fallen figure a worker ...the front base of the monument displays the final words shouted by August Spies before they dropped the trapdoor The day will come when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you are throttling today”...an impromptu syllogism that in many ways came to fruition ...Assorted union and “on strike” buttons are placed at the base on both sides...the monument was assigned the distinction of a national historic marker in 1997...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>The Forest Home cemetery property was purchased from the Pottawatomie Native Americans near the end of the Black Hawk War and is rich with history and legend ...accounts of Native Americans returning to the site to visit burial mounds uncovered by archeologists at the site around the turn of century are unconfirmed but nonetheless intriguing...A jail even stood on property prior to expansion endeavors and a narrow wooden bridge over the Des Plaines River connects the original cemetery from the later acquired annex ...the statues and markers close to the expressway on the north side all seem to have a tarnished discoloration likely the result of years of soot and pollution rolling off the “Ike”...the row of crypts embedded in a grass topped mound towards the center of the main grounds are all either boarded up or devoid of windows at this point and but the 19th century designs and encircling red-brick road segregating them from the rest of the cemetery are surprisingly well preserved ...Forest Home Cemetery is beguiling in its’ stunning beauty and historic significance but it also rife with ominous energies and fleeting phantasms...geographically this area is kind of a threshold between the sedate, predominately safe, bedroom community suburbs and the often mercurial demographic of the near west border towns...census data confirms that there are in fact, more dead people residing in Forest Park Illinois than living ...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>As planned, I have been plotting more articles featuring sites from downtown Chicago (stay tuned for another couple of haunted hotels and other locations in “The Loop”)...years of working downtown in the past has created a subconscious aversion to making the relatively short trip especially with the implementation of new parking meter rates and surreptitiously placed “red light cameras”...the early afternoon, light weekend traffic made for a pleasant ride save for the sports radio commentary chronicling yet another Bears loss...the Haymarket area is right off the I-90 so I deprived myself of the scenic Lake Shore Drive skyline in favor of convenient accessibility...the low hanging, overcast cloud cover obscured the taller of skyscrapers leaving a little under half of Sears Tower visible nearby...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>I felt a sense of nostalgia for these cold Chicago morning/afternoons when as a season ticket holder, many a fall and early winter Sundays were spent at Soldier Field...I quickly shook myself from the reminiscent fugue when I saw my exit rapidly rolling up on the right...city driving is can be tricky but it’s an art once mastered seldom goes extinct by way of disuse and I quickly found myself joyfully tearing around the city blocks with reckless abandon like a seasoned cabbie once again ...the site of the riot is almost unrecognizable today but turning the corner under the elevated railway tracks of Lake Street, you can still see some of the original buildings amid those newer and renovated ...the Haymarket memorial came into focus and I stopped for a few photos then promptly retreating to my ride before a notorious “parking enforcement official” left an early Christmas card under my windshield wiper...the 2-3 lone pedestrians/joggers/dog-walkers and the limited intermittent pack of cars that rolled by while I was standing near the memorial made it hard to imagine such a large assembly on this spot and the chaos that ensued ...Local artist Mary Brogger crafted the bronze impressionistic artwork which depicts a number of featureless effigies supporting a platform on which 3-4 other figures are performing various activities related to labor, activism, enterprise, civil service and the periodic turmoil in between ..the memorial was commissioned by the City of Chicago, The Illinois Federation of Labor History, Chicago FOP and the Chicago Dept. of Transportation in 2004...it sits on the precise spot where the wagon was parked that served as a platform for the Haymarket speakers to address the crowd...</strong></em></span></p>
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<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>I considered stopping by the Jane Addams Hull House which was close by but elected to save that for another time when I could devote my entire focus on the location it so rightfully deserves..I heard the distinct click-clack of horse shoes on pavement as I settled into my vehicle but it abruptly stopped when I stepped back out to look for a novelty carriage or mounted police officer that would be generally be unusual to see this far west and spotting neither...I also dismissed loud “bang” I heard as a car backfiring ....</strong></em></span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Here's the related YouTube video:</strong></em></span><br/> <span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQ-gejsrH1g">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cQ-gejsrH1g</a></strong></em></span></p>
<p><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (12-2011) 94 total....b</strong></em></span> <br/> <span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><a href="http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/The%20Haymarket%20Riot/">http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/The%20Haymarket%20Riot/</a></strong></em></span></p>
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<p><a href="http://i473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/0773-4.jpg"><img src="http://i473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/th_0773-4.jpg" alt=""/></a></p>
<p><img class="align-full" src="http://i473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/sighalfhandnation.jpg"/></p>Haunted Archer Avenue- Fairmount Hillstag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2011-10-04:2227378:BlogPost:2989132011-10-04T13:00:00.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<em><strong><span class="font-size-5" style="color: #ff6600;">Haunted Archer Avenue: Fairmount Hills</span></strong></em><br></br>
<em><strong><span class="font-size-5" style="color: #ff6600;"><br></br>
by Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em><br></br>
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*From 5-09:</span></strong></em><br></br>
<em><strong><span class="font-size-5" style="color: #ff6600;"><br></br>
The Archer Avenue gates to Fairmont Hills lie between St James Church and…</span></strong></em>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5">Haunted Archer Avenue: Fairmount Hills</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
by Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em><br/>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
*From 5-09:</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
The Archer Avenue gates to Fairmont Hills lie between St James Church and The Willow Brook Ballroom along the farthest, forest draped reaches of that famous stretch of Chicago land roadway. There was no predetermined destination when stumbled into my jeep slopping coffee on my lap at 5 am one morning, but knowing that there was a good chance of finding an open pre dawn gate at either St James or Fairmount was a safe bet and traversing the distance before full sunrise to Archer Woods or Sacred Heart being another two off-hour options I have not been to recently pointed me in that direction…As I passed the enigmatic, landmark sign that read Willow Brook Ballroom no less than a half a block on the left the open gates to Fairmount became visible in the waning morning darkness…the last few visits there are indelibly etched in my mind as the unlikely combination of both scenic foreboding …I have in the past always feel literally sick when I got too close to the “Savage Tower” and that morning was no exception ….</span></strong></em><br/>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
Here are the unedited (cropped) photos from today’s visit 5-3-09 (51 total)….</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
<a href="http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/Fairmount%204/">http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/Fairmount%204/</a></span></strong></em><br/>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
*From 11-08:</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
I have featured this location in Misc. Debris if it looks familiar ...this afternoon's cold, blustery weather and periodic snow flurries and my usual lack of weather appropriate attire made for yet another physically depleting afternoon photo shoot...there were some pronounced energy fluctuations in certain isolated spots...</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
this site is apparently featured in a book discovered researching the area that am so drawn to....and an off duty police officer selected this location to commit suicide a few years back ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
Here are the unedited photos from today's visit: 11-20-08 (71 total)...</span></strong></em><br/>
<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-5"><br/>
<a href="http://s150.photobucket.com/albums/s85/landofhand/Fairmount/">http://s150.photobucket.com/albums/s85/landofhand/Fairmount/</a></span></strong></em><br/>
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Here's the Youtube video....b</span></strong></em><br/>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0Fd4pgV_fw">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c0Fd4pgV_fw</a></span></strong></em><br/>
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<em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">Haunted Archer Avenue: Fairmount Hills-Update</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
by Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em><br/>
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<br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
The afternoon sun was warm on my short sleeve shirt-ed arm as I crossed the bridge over the I&M Canal and Des Plaines River... a bridge that leads to Willow Springs terminating at Archer Avenue which acts as a line of demarcation to an area vetted as one of the most haunted in the nation...the pleasant view of the sun-sparkled waterway of the canal oddly triggered the memory of a certain bad, made-for-TV movie called “Deadly Matrimony” (1992-Brian Dennehy, Treat Williams ) based on the twisted, sordid murder-for hire and coverup plot that transpired here back in the early 80's involving prominent divorce/criminal attorney Alan Masters and the town’s chief of police ...the attorney conspired to have his (often battered) wife Dianne murdered to cash in on a $100,000 life insurance policy after years of abuse pushed her into threatening divorce and into the arms of another man ...</span></strong></em><br/>
<br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
The scheme culminated in Dianne Masters getting brutally beaten by Alan with a pistol when a friend of his spotted Mrs Masters with her extramarital paramour covertly cavorting about town and promptly phoned him ... Alan evidently had the corrupt Willow Springs Police Chief and a high ranking Cook County Sheriffs Police Commander in his back pocket to protect the racketeering, gambling and prostitution interests of his clients that pervaded the southwest suburbs at the time...so when he bludgeoned and crushed the skull of poor Dianne in a fit of rage after she returned home one mid March of 1989 morning, he knew just who to call ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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Police Chief Corbitt allegedly found her still alive and moaning faintly in the trunk of her car in the Masters’ secluded driveway so without hesitation he shot her twice, closed the trunk and proceeded to drive the car back to his home jurisdiction of Willow Springs...he probably drove casually down along the train tracks, any one of many gravel power line service roadways or perhaps even one the recreational off-road trucking trails adjacent to canal then unceremoniously dumped the Cadillac containing Dianne’s pummeled, bullet invaded body in the canal where it slowly sank to the murky depths and sat for nine months until recovered ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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The pernicious layers of corruption, deceit and malfeasance that quietly coexisted with the suburban country charm of this scenic forest-side community mere decades ago seems almost unfathomable today as I sat at the Archer stoplight watching a young couple perambulate between the unique, tree bluff ensconced specialty shops of the Willow Hill strip mall... Economic uncertainly has not quelled the residential and commercial development endeavors along the train tracks based on the new condos and office buildings strategically and tactfully blended into a homogenous architectural design ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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The fall draped asphalt of Archer Avenue has become a favorite circuit for bikers and this was confirmed by a consortium of assorted Harley’s roaring the opposite direction as I made my way west...some may have just departed from the pub across from the Willow Brook Ballroom’s enigmatic neon sign ...I doubt even Resurrection Mary would have hitched a ride with some of the scoot-jockeys that used to frequent that establishment in the past, but for the most part it looked to be a more upscale crowd of weekend warriors enjoying the afternoon sun on the patio that unseasonably mild October afternoon... One</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
of the most notable permutations along that stretch I noticed (aside from the tavern’s name change and less frightening clientele) was the addition of a very large funeral home/chapel on the left, just before the gates of Faimount Hills came into view ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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There is a protocol observed by many of us that photograph these sites that dictates a measure of respect and reverence, not only for those that have passed but also for the living with loved ones committed there...this should never be a group or “team” effort spectacle by way of the inclusion of ghostbuster gadgetry ...I always make a concerted effort to pick up litter, straighten up floral arrangements and grave-side adornments, dress appropriately and behave respectfully ...obviously posing for a self portrait in front of a grave marker is not an aspect of the aforementioned protocol but a grossly insensitive vanity nuance that needs to cease in the para-community and I believe the impetus for change is within our grasp (end lecture) ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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Short of the lone statue of Martin Luther along the south fence, the cemetery is almost completely devoid Christian allegory in favor of Masonic symbolism ...a pumpkin placed near the tower even has crescent moons and stars drawn for eyes with a black marker...The letter “G” framed by a square and compass seems to be the most prevalent, the “G” is said to represent geometry or even “God”...another recurrent theme is a simple dark red or obsidian urn atop a simple stone monument ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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I didn’t notice the “all seeing eye” within a pyramid which almost always seems to be inexorably linked to Freemasonry, The Illuminati, secret societal orders and even ancient alien theories thanks to The History Channel, Erich Von Daniken and Giorgio Tsoukalos in particular, who’s hair looks to be of extra terrestrial origin itself....Oddly the Savage Tower seems almost congruent with one of the more dubious postulation made by Danikens’ didactic disciple which lays claim to the Washington Monument being secretly constructed as an antennae or funnel for global/galactic/universal energy...a concept perhaps exemplified by the very credible work of Nikola Tesla even though the culpability of media sensationalism can quickly transform “Chariots Of The Gods” wisdom into “horse and buggy thinking”...</span></strong></em><br/>
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The feeling of light-headedness close to the tower has remained a constant on each and every trip and the latest visit was no exception ...the tiny windows of the metallic, padlocked doors are opaque with grime and obscured by decorative grid-work ...The inside looks unchanged with the two chairs centered at the base of the structure with a small coffee table between them topped with a modest floral arrangement...around the back walkway there is a roughly three foot wall with square inset cremation slots available, some of which already have inscribed covers with names and dates on them...</span></strong></em><br/>
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It could almost be a peaceful setting overlooking the solitary, hillside crypt along the main road...a narrow, winding road leading in from the main gates and running the entire length of the west grounds below the tall, silent trees before continuing south or forking left and back east then circling the crest of the properties centerpiece ...Anyone from this area is surely familiar with the</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
glowing yellow clock on the upper north side of the tower that glowers at Archer Avenue motorists like an evil eye after dark ...the hollow chimes of the hour bell clangs ponderously from a concealed speaker and timer tripped PA system within, lethargically heralding the passage of time when it tolls from the darkness above ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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A lone police car with a lightly tinted UV resistant windshield that sat dormantly at the edge of the pond when I arrived was still visible below and through the amber, orange and yellow of the autumnal tinted foliage skirting the tower...it was gone the when I looked again moments later...</span></strong></em><br/>
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A sudden fatigue overwhelmed me and as took a brief respite on a section of the walkway wall where there were no names, I peripherally caught movement on the tower’s back wall ...small orange and black dots covered the stone blocks, some were stationary, some not ...Closer inspection revealed that literally hundreds of Lady Bugs crawled the west wall of the burial obelisk and as I turned the corner back to the front I was shocked to see that the entire surface of the building hosted the polka dotted insects ... retreating to my awaiting vehicle I made my way back south toward the central low lying area of the site where some of the more interesting photos were captured few years back ...a throng of bikers rolled through and the ground continued to reverberate even as they passed from site around the bend ...I accepted the tremulous incursion with the realization that this was a sound of summer and warm weather that would end soon ...</span></strong></em><br/>
<br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
I kept hearing what distinctly reminded me of haunting opening notes to Pearl Jams’ “Release” looping over and over in the distance like a malfunctioning music box or a very slow moving ice-cream truck ...</span></strong></em><br/>
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Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (10-2011) 7</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
7 total....b</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
<a href="http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/Haunted%20Archer%20Avenue%20-Fairmount%20Hills%20Update/">http://s473.photobucket.com/albums/rr97/BarekHalfhand/Haunted%20Archer%20Avenue%20-Fairmount%20Hills%20Update/</a></span></strong></em><br/>
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<br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
Pearl Jam: Release</span></strong></em><br/><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPUwtyZglQI">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPUwtyZglQI</a></span></strong></em><br/>
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<img src="http://spiritualphotographybybarekh.webs.com/k16zd5-HN.jpg"/>The Old Joliet Prisontag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2011-09-07:2227378:BlogPost:2935512011-09-07T22:30:00.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">The Old Joliet Prison</span></strong></em></span><br></br><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
by Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em></span><br></br>
<br></br>
<br></br><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
It’s been over a decade since I worked at the Joliet Correctional Center and just returning to the empty main lot reminded me of the dread, insecurity and very real sense of…</span></strong></em></span>
<span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">The Old Joliet Prison</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
by Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
It’s been over a decade since I worked at the Joliet Correctional Center and just returning to the empty main lot reminded me of the dread, insecurity and very real sense of mortal vulnerability that only those that have worked in such an institution can truly relate to... I found the 2009 announcement that the old prison was slated for conversion to a tourist attraction paradoxical as the concept of incarceration itself is antithetical to recreation...I felt less than nostalgic returning to that lot I did so may times over a 2 year stint to complete a project concurrent with the remodel undertaking ...Still no word on the ribbon cutting ceremonies for the “Joliet Prison Park” as of the 08/2011 writing of this article, but I plan on including an inside view update to this topic once it does in fact open those massive iron gates to the public ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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The Annex was originally constructed as a women’s prison and ultimately ended it’s tenure housing sex offenders that have completed their DOC sentence but have been deemed to still be a public threat by the Illinois Department of Human Services... I was working in the basement of The Annex where the most intense negative presence I have ever encountered near the small square barred doors of the Segregation Cells or ‘Seg“ used to hold the more unruly female inmates to serve a punitive penance for whatever transgression or policy violation they perpetrated ...and as my original narrative (below) outlines, rumors of alleged abuse of these women by the “guards” of that period was related to me by a Correctional Officer that served as an escort that particular day ...the assignment of one “escort” to a lone contractor was not unusual and at times they were female officers that wouldn’t done me much good had the inmates of this Super Max correctional facility decided to stomp us...There is a certain cold emptiness about the eyes of a sociopath...a complete lack of empathy for others, a remorseless pathology devoid of emotions, a lack of a moral compass and an innate sense of right and wrong that most of us possess even if it is crippled or arrested developmentally ...once you look into those eyes you wont ever forget it, the absence of the radiant essence that makes us human is tangible even to those lacking this sensitivity and very obvious when it is missing...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
Construction began on the medieval style castle prison complete with turrets and crenelated topped walls of the admin building in 1858 and a workforce of inmates and contractors shared the task ...this site housed civil war POWs and criminals by 1860, even though the building wasn’t retrofitted with the basic amenity of running water in the cells until as late as the 1940's the civil war prisoners were probably better off there than Chicago’s notoriously cruel and unsanitary; Camp Douglas that claimed so many lives...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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There have been riots, the murder of a Warden’s wife, rumors of a singing ghost in the prison cemetery that drew thousand of curiosity seekers until the ghost was discovered to be a certain night guard that had a penchant for crooning to himself to stave off the lonely quietude of his post ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
The woman’s prison was built in the 1890's before the inmates were transferred to a new facility in Dwight Illinois and the Annex was converted to a male R & C (Receiving and Classification) then finally in the late 90's (when I worked there) the annex was transformed into the Department of Human Services sex offender residency...incidentally (and ironically) the new R & C moved back across the street to the main complex and into a small buildings on the north side of the yard where they filmed John Belushi reclaiming his belongings that were cataloged and stored upon his incarceration...that famous scene with Frank Oz was actually shot in a mattress factory and I could still see the silver painted ceiling the director decided was necessary to brighten up the background for the shoot during the remodel ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Over the years the site has housed some famous inmates from celebrated cases, one such case was heralded as the Trial Of The (previous) Century; that being the trial of chilling child murderers Leopold and Loeb...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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The famous opening gate scene from The Blues Brothers where “Joliet Jake” and Elwood are reunited on the Collins Street side of the prison wall was sealed shut during my tenure working there ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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I didn’t watch too many episodes the Fox series “Prison Break” but I was in fact inside of that tunnel that was an integral part of the escape plot...this tunnel actually served as access to the yard guard tower and a service conduit for plumbing, electrical, voice and data ...It is covered by a sidewalk and vents that runs the length of the yard that is digitally removed from most of the yard scenes ....</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Most of the “Natural Born killers” prison sequences were filmed at Stateville on the other side of the river and although a large portion was shot at the JCC Annex, most of it was not used save for (I believe) the sequence where Mallory (Juliette Lewis) kills Scagnetti (Tom Sizemore) in solitary confinement ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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There have been numerous movies and television filmed at the Joliet Correctional Center including “Red Heat”, “Derailed”, “Let’s Go To Jail”, the shows “Bones”, “Breakout Kings” among others ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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I wrote up my experience, working in the basement of the Annex in late 2006, and you will probably notice my penchant for run on sentences is not a recent cultivation...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
Quote me: (*edited for spelling, execrable grammar, run on sentences and inadvertent malapropisms )...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
January 2007:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
I have had some instances of an uneasy "bad vibe” sort of feeling in certain places one of which could be easily dismissed just based on the creepy nature of the location but it is the most pronounced to date I can recall. For those of you in the USA you are probably familiar with the Fox series "Prison Break", this show was filmed in the Joliet Correctional Center in Joliet Illinois (now closed) where I spent a considerable amount of time working as a technician during some of its remodeling . The nature of the work sent me to all areas of the prison (including ones occupied by real inmates not actors!) as well as a satellite building across the street called The Annex that was originally constructed around the turn of the century to serve as a women's prison ...well in the basement of this building there is a row of very small cells with tiny barred doors about waist high that was used as isolation or "seg" (segregation) for the female prisoners that misbehaved (I later found out that there were rumors of these ladies being the victims of regular abuse by the guards of the era) anyway, one day my task at hand led me to this notorious area with a coworker and we noticed one of the small cell doors...</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
As I moved in for a closer look I got this overwhelming feeling of dread or like a “bad energy” is the best I can describe it ...it was almost like years of psychic trauma had been hewn into the stone wall of the structure that comprised the building material used to fashion the medieval castle style prison this one was designed to resemble (the beginning of "The Blues Brothers" has a good shot of the main building)...The only way I can describe it is just a negative energy...I looked at my coworker; a very Joe Six-Pack kind guy and said "do you feel that ?" and his response was “yeah I do!"...we didn't discuss it immediately afterwards and he didn't bring it up again. It wasn't until weeks later that I leaned about the lore surrounding that basement being the site of abuse...I have felt this sensation in other environments as well, some of which were simple empty rooms or basements that weren't aesthetically "creepy" at all and there were many times that I was alone in super creepy places and felt nothing at all...I am especially interested in the stone style bricks in the prison as I believe there may be something to the residual haunting theory, much the way an audio impression can be played back in the case of a phonograph, perhaps psychic impressions can be left on certain materials and all of the construction and electrical work being done (a lot of new electrical conduit nears basement cell area) could have released this "imprint" even louder. Now, have I considered that I may have been feeling an EM field in the proximity of the new electrical work?...yes I have, but I also know that there was something ominous about this sensation, the same as the presence I have felt in the recurring sleep paralysis dreams I have (dark, foggy presence etc.) ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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January 2007:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
“I touched on my theory that certain stone or rock based building materials may harbor the psychic impressions perceived by many of us ...I have heard from friends that have visited the Viet Nam Memorial wall in Washington DC have felt something unusual and considering how many grief stricken people have visited this site it may be prime example ...I am not sure but think it is made of a type of granite (will Google and report back later) taking this into consideration wouldn't it also be reasonable to conjecture that graveyards loaded with assorted granite tombstones have been exposed to countless grieving visitors ...I kinda of consider this my "Sci-Fi" explanation to some aspects of hauntings but it doesn't necessarily dismiss the possibility of a spiritual activity...”</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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January 2007:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
“Maybe the (Viet Nam) Memorial is a bad example of this idea (I haven’t paid my respects as of yet) nor do I know if my friend has lost someone to that war, but i think maybe when all those names come into focus the sheer volume of them may evoke this as a sort of shock...Also in the case of the tombstone comment I made I didn’t mean the stone was imbued with the spirit of it’s dead sub-dweller but maybe exposed to the psychic trauma of a visiting grieving relative/friend and somehow released by weather, tremors, tidal forces, etc. ...”</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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January 2007:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
“My theory is; it my be anything from the earths’ own EM field to mild tremors to a nearby train passing, traffic, weather, or even power tools used in construction (as was the case for me in the basement of the Joliet Correctional Center)...”</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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January 2007:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
“There’s no disputing it was a stressful work environment but I did spend alot of time in this place (Joliet correctional center) and would often have to walk among killers and other assorted baddies so when I got across the street to the basement of this "annex" building where the old seg (punishment) cells are, with other contractors nearby and with no inmates (at the time) even in the building, I was much more at ease than usual and I was not at all creeped out by the basemen. Lets take a moment to consider the composition of the base structure of the building and the large scale construction taking place. There were alot of additional electrical conduits installed overhead and powers tools humming everywhere, may have been enough to shake the bad energy out of anything even the contemptuous bad energy I felt out of nowhere within the proximity to the tiny cells where I first perceived it...”</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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The late August noon-ish visit to the aptly renamed: “Old Joliet Prison” was nothing short of splendid weather-wise ...the sun was bight, the skies were a deep blue with a few</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
billowy white clouds, the temperatures moderate and breezy and the preseason September scents of the approaching Indian Summer reminded me of the anticipatory excitement and apprehension of a new school year this season represented in childhood... the drive there took me through a surreal city of silos, smokestacks and an elaborate oil refinery network of pipes that transformed the suburban outback into a postcard from the Persian Gulf ...I’m not sure if the Joliet Park District, Visitors Bureau or Historical/Preservation Society is responsible for the new gate, information kiosks and primary parking lot upgrade including park benches, but this seems to be as far as the “Prison Park” project has proceeded thus far...the buildings appear to be</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
in a growing state of disrepair with broken windows, tall weeds growing through cracks in the concrete beyond the razor wire topped fence and even visible tree saplings sprouting from roof top crevices and crannies peeking over the ledges...the main admin building has several broken windows...I look forward to getting shots inside if the chance arises, the warden’s office is opulent in its ornate woodworking but again I don’t particularly relish the notion of walking that yard or the cellblocks again ...the smell is a stale, sour odor that I will never forget ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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There was a fairly steady stream of families in cars and couples on motorcycles pulling to the lot for a look, some of which parked and walked around while others were content with a slow drive-by viewing ...One particularly imperturbable father repeatedly admonished his son of about 5 or 6 from attempting to scale the fence...one gentleman I noticed walking the north perimeter taking photos as I arrived inquired about the opening of “Prison Park” for inside tours when we crossed paths at the south end near the entrance...I informed him I knew as much as he did and after he shared that he drove from Ohio via Indiana for this visit, I regaled him with my experiences working there and knowledge of it’s history ...he rolled his eyes when I brought up the ghost lore associated with the facility and fondly admitted his friends in Ohio have explored The Mansfield Reformatory under pretense of a ghost tour/paranormal investigation but was himself a skeptic albeit an ardent history enthusiast...I elected to forgo intimating my own supernatural experiences there in favor of a more cerebral discussion of the prison based on his reaction and wished him a safe journey home ... More often than not I have had to shift gears when I am at a site like this and engage others present for any personal insight or information I can glean by such mild interrogative probing and find myself laughing off such superstitions nonsense right along with them citing it as a necessary aspect of the historic research I was conducting ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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The Annex looked the same as it did over a decade ago from the outside ...the paint on the bright red fire escape along the west wall was chipping away surrendering to the orange rust beneath, its’ bottom most section still cranked up perpendicular to the base...As I rounded the sentinel Lion statue on the left of the main entrance I realized that the small, wire mesh fortified windows would grant me a look inside the front doors where a double iron gate buffer space separated the outside world from “inside” ...knowing that those small isolation cells where almost directly below the armory box to the left, I braced myself for a blast of that searing, soul swallowing negative energy I encountered over 12 years back...I was not disappointed in the least by it’s anticlimactic absence and fired off a couple shots through the windows before turning back to the sun soaked euphoria of the early afternoon and started down the small staircase when the unmistakable muffled SLAM of a cell door rang out from within the cold stone walls of the building ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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I wandered around back down a gravel driveway between the Annex and another building that used to be a State Police forensic lab which still looked to be occupied and even had a few civilian (looking) vehicles in the lot ...the weeds are rapidly overtaking the exercise yard but the basketball net and rusting weight bench are clearly visible through the double fence line..</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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I opted to save exploring the quarry for another time (predawn-sunrise) ...the rear of the Annex revealed a few old maintenance or storage buildings, a radio repair shop for the entire correctional complex and trailers that looked to serve as additional DHS office space ...the field to the east is reverting to a prairie state and at the bottom of a steep summit; a freight train clamored by a rectangular, white track-side edifice with JCC (Joliet Correctional Center) boldly effaced on the front and a newer looking large water tower labeled “Joliet” in a more contemporary italic font...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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The empty Supermax facility seemed infinitely more peaceful albeit the indeterminate levels of lingering residual or sentient supernatural activity that may still dwell within ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (09-2011) 92 total....b</span></strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong><span class="font-size-4">
<a href="http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/The%20Old%20Joliet%20Prison/">http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/The%20Old%20Joliet%20Prison/</a></span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Here's the YouTube video: The Old Joliet Prison</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVQwFEk2Wcw">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVQwFEk2Wcw</a><br/>
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<img src="http://spiritualphotographybybarekh.webs.com/k16zd5-HN.jpg"/>Road Trip 2011 Part 2tag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2011-08-07:2227378:BlogPost:2868762011-08-07T17:30:00.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong>Road Trip 2011 Part 2</strong></em></span><br></br><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong>
by Barek Halfhand</strong></em></span><br></br>
<br></br><span class="font-size-4" style="color: #ff6600;"><em><strong>
The gargantuan propellers seem surprisingly graceful spinning in the distance as the wind farms of pastoral north central Indiana suddenly dominate the landscape and have come to serve as my symbolic gateway to The…</strong></em></span>
<span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4"><em><strong>Road Trip 2011 Part 2</strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4"><em><strong>
by Barek Halfhand</strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4"><em><strong>
The gargantuan propellers seem surprisingly graceful spinning in the distance as the wind farms of pastoral north central Indiana suddenly dominate the landscape and have come to serve as my symbolic gateway to The South...If I didn’t view this spectacle as fanatically futuristic I may have been compelled to fulminate over the irony of these immense landscape transformative edifices compared to the energy output of a single conventional fossil fuel/nuclear power plant but I digress...</strong></em></span><br/>
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The aromatic night air changes rapidly as the miles stream by...everything from fertilizer to fern wafts through the opened windows, but the country and mountain purity of this pollution free expanses of the open road are something that you rural folks probably take for granted ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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This return trip entailed some new and some return visits ...a new site was an antique mall plagued by a cantankerous old spinster the owner hesitantly confided is clinging to some of her worldly possessions purchased legitimately by the dealer at an estate sale ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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A tip lead me to the site of 2 failed businesses where growing anxiety over bankruptcy and liquidation evidently lead one to drastic measures of desperation and sadly resignation ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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Another new site by a trusted confidant lead me to a shack in the woods that where I literally felt the resident entity glowering in my direction from the rickety wooden porch ...the tin roof (rusted) created a hot box effect that baked the hay stored within and created a musty, sour smell...visible holes in the floor called for careful circumvention ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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A new twist in one of the return sites was the insight of a local that noticed me in the parking lot (out of state plates are a source of intrigue in this particular area) and while I was not immediately forthcoming as to reason for photographing the cemetery opting to attribute my interest one of historical study, he related an enticing tidbit of local lore associated with the site...The tragic story of teen sweethearts planning on a wedding after graduation turned from a simple postponement of the nuptials to sorrow when the young man’s call to service lead him to the European theater of WW1 and sadly; his death... his body was returned and interred with honors at this site where legend contends that the young woman anguished for months grave side, mourning the loss of her paramour ...It is said that the specter of her grieving at the beside his memorial marker is still a fairly frequent occurrence ...the girl herself never married, died young for reasons unspecified and was buried elsewhere downstate ....</strong></em></span><br/>
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The closed down daycare center has a sordid history and I would prefer not to speculate or fill in the blanks that exist on this one ...the site has strewn debris and mattresses on the floor with assorted paint cans sitting next to it leaving little doubt that this now abandoned building plays host to huffers and assorted other transients...there is a strange substance splattered on the walls of the kitchen and the cabinet doors are all hanging open, giving the appearance of a temper tantrum ...there are still board games neatly stacked on the shelves of 2 of the hallway closets...there is an awful, stale sense of stagnation and putrefaction inside, the basement door hangs wide open, the staircase steep and devoid of handrails ...the caliginous cavern below was illuminated only by the faint light of square window of a single outside door leading outward and up via cracked concrete steps...the basement fireplace still bore the remnants of a recent fire and piles of discarded clothing, beer cans and liquor bottles littered the floor ...an odd line of wooden chairs arranged like they were intended to accommodate an audience of some sort were situated to the left of the fireplace...the fetid stench of decay rapidly became intolerable and as my discomfort level rapidly rose, a horsefly bit my leg creating a surprising about of pain for such a small insect ...I finished with the basement photos and promptly departed ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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This was my 3rd visit to the old creek side mill and the weeds have definitely gained a foothold on the aluminum sided, wooden floored structure...the bottom windows and door are now boarded up and there are now “No Trespassing” signs posted so this edition was limited to outside shots ...the is still a dour presence lingering here and whether you ascribe to the ecumenical perception of negative entities as “demons” or not is irrelevant, the discordant nature of those that dwell in shadows is clearly tangible to those with unfiltered sensibilities and unfettered by the blinders of convention ...I could literally hear the muffled cackling as I slipped down the bank of the creek next to the north wall, stopping just short of the rushing water...his sense of humor hasn’t changed since 2 visits ago when I almost plunged through the second floor rotted planks ...</strong></em></span><br/>
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The old church in the bad section of town was merely a fortunate happenstance and 2 quick phone calls granted me access...the old TV, stoves, oak hutches, 2 upright pianos, standup wooden mirrors and antiquated recording equipment long with other assorted oddities stored inside undisturbed in this less than secured building left me perplexed ...a tree branch grew through a broken window from the outside and seemed to be reaching towards the roof in defiance of the entire constitution...I wasn’t able to glean much in the way of site history as I embarked on some post-visit research and phone calls but apparently the church was lead by a particularly pernicious pastor that was accused of “abuse of authority” but my source wasn’t sure of the specific allegations...he was eventually transferred following mounting complaints leveled by the congregation, that again weren’t specified...</strong></em></span><br/>
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The covered bridge was a welcomed diversion from the norm and as this new addition was another referral, the details surrounding the nature of the alleged activity were also sketchy...as promised and by request, the exact location of these “Road Trip” sites will continue to remain undisclosed to prevent the attraction of “ghost hunters” and others looking to glom onto the latest wave of paranormal culture popularity, but the bridge is in fact a known historic site...the legend collectively recollected here relates to a woman battling an ultimately debilitating terminal illness who, as part of her self prescribed convalescent therapy enjoyed spending several afternoons a week at this location...she seemed to find solace by the mountain air and bubbling brook beneath the bridge and the scenic overview from the path leading from the main road ...Reports of continued presence at the bridge following her losing the battle against whatever disease she fought are still rumored today but my source disavows any personal experiences here at this site that he himself frequents with his dogs in tow ...shortly after my arrival at the bridge an SUV full of teens showed up and much to my chagrin; frolicked in the knee high creek thus depriving me of the solitude I prefer on these excursions.. In resignation I opted for an insouciant photo session, thus treating the location like more of a tourist attraction than the site of purported paranormal activity ...of course after collecting a sufficient amount of stills and videos, I started my ascent to the parking lot as the raucous teens began to grate on my nerves with their high decibel joviality and I was at the time in my then irritated state; lacking the appropriate parlance to request that they dial it down a few notches ... In a moment of clarity and terse introspection I realized what a cantankerous coot I was becoming by such intolerance as I plodded up the path looking downward at red-dirt soiled shoes A sudden ”hello” startled me...I returned the greeting as my head snapped back upward just glimpsing the middle aged woman in a sun hat passing me heading downward and the other direction ...it wasn’t until I reached the summit and the gravel parking lot moments later that I made the connection and spun around to look back down the path ...of course nobody was there ....</strong></em></span><br/>
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Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (07-2011) total....b</strong></em></span><br/><span style="color: #ff6600;" class="font-size-4"><em><strong>
<a href="http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/Road%20Trip%202011%20Part%202/">http://s1082.photobucket.com/albums/j367/HalfhandFiles3/Road%20Trip%202011%20Part%202/</a></strong></em></span><br/>
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Here's the youtube video:</strong></em></span><br/>
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"Haunted Road Trip":</strong></em></span><br/>
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyxHJuAemHA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pyxHJuAemHA</a><br/>
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<img src="http://spiritualphotographybybarekh.webs.com/k16zd5-HN.jpg"/>The 65th Anniversary Of The Naperville Train Crashtag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2011-05-02:2227378:BlogPost:2617982011-05-02T18:30:00.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">The 65th Anniversary Of The Naperville Train Crash</span></strong></em></span><br></br><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
By Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em></span><br></br>
<br></br><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
April 25th 2011 at 1:03 pm marked the 65th anniversary of one of the worst railroad accidents in American history leaving 43 dead and 125 injured ...I…</span></strong></em></span>
<span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">The 65th Anniversary Of The Naperville Train Crash</span></strong></em></span><br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
By Barek Halfhand</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
April 25th 2011 at 1:03 pm marked the 65th anniversary of one of the worst railroad accidents in American history leaving 43 dead and 125 injured ...I arrived in far west suburban Naperville at 12:35pm...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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April 25th 1946 started out as cloudy with possible rain but turned to predominately sunny skies by late morning in Chicago with average high temperatures reaching the mid 50's...but this early Spring weather was probably of little consequence to the commingling Union Station passengers that congregated outside the platforms, strolled the concessions stands or lounged on one the wooden benches in the ornate, vaulted skylight expanse of the Beaux-Arts designed Grand Hall concourse...This historic architectural landmark has been featured in movies such as The Untouchables, Flags Of Our Fathers, The Sting, Silver Streak, Code Of Silence and Raw Deal among others ...Those awaiting their train's departure here were likely transfixed by the suffused sunbeams that would often form intricate geometric patterns on the floor courtesy of the diamond shaped windows above ...Some may have mulled over the day's headlines in The Chicago Tribune or Sun-Times...The headlines for that same late April day the previous year in 1945 was dominated by WW2 headlines...such as heralding the conjoining of two Russian army regiments within the Berlin city limits as an important benchmark in the allied war efforts that hammered away at Hitler's decimated war machine and now had him huddled in his bunkers...While many mourned the untimely death of President Roosevelt, they felt that the promise of prosperity by way of his New Deal policies even in the face of a war strapped government bankruptcy, would be delivered by FDR's Vice President and successor: Harry S. Truman as commander and chief and as a sort of curator of FDR political legacy...These latest advances into the</span></strong></em></span><br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
3rd Reich's backyard, the invasion of Okinawa and other recent successful milestones in the War Of The Pacific instilled a hubristic sense of optimism for an immanent end to the war and an economic upswing…</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
In sharp contrast, the predominate news stories only a year later in 1946 were all related to America’s favorite pastime: Baseball, with only side column mention of the Socialistic Einheitspartei Germany party forming in East Germany...In a city itself swept up in the viral baseball fever and enamored with their Cubs in the wake of the 1st baseball broadcast in Chicago featuring the Cards vs Cubs on April 20th, the newspaper headlines for April 25th was monopolized by stories related to 11 players inducted into the Baseball Hall Of Fame...1946 was the year that brought us “It's A Wonderful Life”, the first microwave oven and the first car phone...gas was 15 cents a gallon and music of Frank Sinatra, the Ink Spots, Bing Crosby, Duke Ellington, Perry Como and the Andrews Sisters permeated the radio airwaves...born on that year was George W. Bush, Cher, Sylvester Stallone, Tommy Lee Jones, Candice Bergen, Steven Spielberg, Dolly Parton, Freddie Mercury, Susan Sarandon , Sally Fields, Jimmy buffet and Theodore Bundy amongst others ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
The transformation of steam to diesel powered locomotives transpiring nationwide by way of Smoke Abatement , air pollution and Clean Air legislation that started as early as the late 20's had a dramatic effect on all modes of personal and logistical transportation ...these new environmental regulatory statutes radically changed the air quality and general tidiness of the Union Station depot loading platforms ...anyone that has had any experience related to a coal knows that with it comes a fine layer of soot regardless of efforts to contain, manage or remove it...the passengers that filed in and out of the trains as either daily commuters or transient travelers alike probably welcomed this change ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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West bound passengers of the Advance Flyer and Exposition Flyer probably marveled at the sleek, streamline new designs of diesel locomotives and assorted cars that consisted of a varying combination of state-of-the-art sleepers, coach, dining and cargo cars of the Burlington Northern and Quincy Railroad that was the Amtrak equivalent of the day...the trains were reported to have disembarked almost simultaneously at 12:35 pm from Chicago on different tracks leading from the main depot were they would later converge on a shared railway somewhere before Halsted Street and accelerate to speeds often in excess of 80-85 miles per hour with only a buffer of mere minutes between them...The Advance Flyer was en route to Omaha Nebraska followed by The Exposition Flyer which was heading towards San Francisco CA. and both of their almost capacity passenger compliments included armed forces servicemen returning from the European theater...There were not scheduled stops in Illinois so the city scape probably transformed rapidly from metropolitan to suburban main street stations and even a few remaining spotted rural scenes beyond Clarendon Hills and Westmont, but surely the specter of urban decay and the gang graffiti of inner city plight we Chicago bound Metro Rail commuters try to ignore was not a scenery spoiler for these travelers of yesteryear …</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
At some point crew members aboard the Advance Flyer observed an unidentified object ejected from the underside of one of the carriages as they approached the Naperville city limits and the engineer was forced to make an unscheduled stop at the Loomis Street station to check for damages and conduct an impromptu safety inspection...the engineer of Exposition Flyer speeding along a disputed excessive speed speed 80 plus miles an hour did not see the red warning light and by the time he did visually identify the impeded train and frenzied flag waver ahead, the indefatigable leviathan juggernaut slammed into the last car of the Advance Flyer with such velocity, impact and unimaginable force that it literally split the last car in two up the middle...what followed was a scene of confusion, shock, devastation, carnage, twisted metal wreckage and the tumultuous caterwauling of pain and cries for help …</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
The momentum of the Exposition Flyer did not stop at the rear car, it tore savagely through the next car and buckled the following before derailing and tossing the remaining coaches to their sides like a</span></strong></em></span><br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
model railroad hit by a basketball...bodies, blood and gore was intermingled with the twisted metallic mess and before the dust, smoke and snowflake like pieces of the train's insulation could settle, people poured from businesses, stores, factories, homes and even the nearby North Central College to assist with the frantic search and rescue efforts...many of the N.C. College students arrived on the scene with dorm mattresses in tow to serve as stretchers …ambulance raced back and forth to ferry the injured to what then were the closest hospitals located in Wheaton and neighboring Aurora ...the Kroehler Furniture Company factory served as a temporary triage ...the dead were lined up a row along the front yards of houses adjacent to the tracks before the 3pm bell of a nearby elementary school and curious youngsters racing to the scene triggered a harried effort to relocate the victims and the body parts strewn on or near the tracks to the to Kroehler building which now also doubled as a makeshift morgue...The most consistent count that I have been able to ascertain through hours of internet and library searches stands at 43 dead and 125 wounded…the point of impact, the scattered debris and the few trailing cars of the Exposition Flyer that remained on the tracks started at the Loomis Street crossing and extended almost as far back to the Saints Peter and Paul Cemetery which is also rumored to be the site of supernatural disturbances in addition to that block long stretch of railroad tracks, the historic Kroehler Furniture Company building (5th Street Station) and the houses nearby...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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I stopped along the way to get some shots of the North Central College buildings and a huge cathedral near the Loomis Street crossing destination where I was fortunate enough to find a parking spot nearby ...I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the freight and commuter trains rumbled by as frequently as every 10 minutes or so and as I made my way to the lowered crossing gate for some shots of the steel stampede streaming by, I noticed an elderly gentleman sporting a jacket with a some type of classic railroad enthusiast insignia ...I crossed to the corner where he was reverently observing the passing freighter and as soon as he noticed the camera he proceeded to ask me if I was “so and so” that he was supposed to meet there to commemorate the anniversary and discuss his collaboration on a book about the crash that was already in already in the works …this lead to a lengthy discussion about the accident and the joint writing endeavors to which he was aspiring...he conceded that tracking down survivors of the crash or their relatives was proving to be a daunting task but felt confident in 2012 as a firm publication objective...being the affable history buff he comported himself to be, I took the opportunity to collate the facts I had surrounding the crash since there are many inconsistencies and conflicting reports on the net …</span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Surprisingly I had the majority of my facts straight and the last thing I confirmed was the actual crash time as 1:03pm which he also validated but with a chuckle reminded me that since daylight saving time was not in effect in 1946, the actual wreck time would be 2:03pm ...Even though I implied that my interest was more history related, he intimated one particular past crash anniversary date when he returned to this site and there were what he described as “Occultists” lingering about the area claiming that the spirits of the departed passengers hover overhead every year ... “One of them was holding these thin sticks or wires” he said...”dowsing rods?” I offered, “yes and they were moving back in forth in his hands in a way that still spooks me” ...”I try to stay away from that sort of thing and not think about it” he continued, “ I have had a few things happen to me that I couldn’t explained and...and I just prefer not to think about it” shrugging it of with a insincere chuckle before changing the subject ...I think many just prefer “not to think about it” the more I try to nonchalantly interject supernatural related subjects into conversations with people not involved with it (or obsessed with it )...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
I thanked him for his sharing his acumen regarding railroad history and decided to make my way across the tracks to the 5th Avenue Station (the Kroehler Furniture Company factory building) and down the street westward to the track-side cemetery before doubling back at 2:03pm that was the actual 1:03pm of 1946 (ugh) ...</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
There is a sort of mall mezzanine hallway between offices on the 1st floor of the 5th avenue Station with an assortment of reality offices, interior design showrooms, indeterminate businesses and restaurants ...at the far end of the hallway was the leasing office for the loft and studio apartments available for rental, the overhead ceiling is unusually low and the visible pipes and wiring infrastructure just overhead added to the cluttered sense of claustrophobic confinement...and while many elect to take the day after Easter Sunday off, there was a highly unusual crypt like lifelessness about the place even for a post holiday …</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
The Saints Peter and Paul Parish Cemetery less than a block east of the crash site is an odd little island surrounded by homes, the Columbia St. overpass and of course the railroad tracks ...there are many graves dating back to the mid 1800's and a strange stone edifice with a Madonna statue perched in an upper promontory, and a concave chamber below...my guess is that is intended to represent Christ's burial chamber in Jerusalem...the cemetery seems bedeviled by the relentless man-made seismic activity endemic to property adjacent to freight routes this active...the ground rattling railway reverberations literally shakes the ground beneath your feet at least every quarter to half hour...the warning horn wailing from the locomotive is literally loud enough to wake the dead, or so it is said....</span></strong></em></span><br/>
<br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
Here's the related YouTube video:</span></strong></em></span><br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HP07PIliT20">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HP07PIliT20</a></span></strong></em></span><br/>
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Here are the (compressed to 1MB) photos...some have been slightly sharpened or color enhanced (4-25-2011)85 total....b</span></strong></em></span><br/><span class="font-size-4"><em><strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">
<a href="http://s1098.photobucket.com/albums/g363/FoundersHill/The%2065th%20Anniversary%20Of%20The%20Naperville%20Train%20Crash/">http://s1098.photobucket.com/albums/g363/FoundersHill/The%2065th%20Anniversary%20Of%20The%20Naperville%20Train%20Crash/</a></span></strong></em></span><br/>
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<img src="http://spiritualphotographybybarekh.webs.com/k16zd5-HN.jpg"/>An Old VA Hospitaltag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2010-06-12:2227378:BlogPost:1749952010-06-12T16:15:51.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
An Old VA Hospital<br />
<br />
<br />
My recent expedition to the old Manteno State Hospital complex has piqued an interest I have had in facilities like this that began with the encounter working in the basement of a Joliet Illinois penitentiary annex building a few years back that housed sex offenders and culminated in my coverage of a west suburban retirement home demolition (Plymouth Pace)<br />
in early 08...I have heard rumors over the years and have even been privy to first hand accounts related to me by…
An Old VA Hospital<br />
<br />
<br />
My recent expedition to the old Manteno State Hospital complex has piqued an interest I have had in facilities like this that began with the encounter working in the basement of a Joliet Illinois penitentiary annex building a few years back that housed sex offenders and culminated in my coverage of a west suburban retirement home demolition (Plymouth Pace)<br />
in early 08...I have heard rumors over the years and have even been privy to first hand accounts related to me by sources of impeccable credulity and even former employees of a now closed Veterans Hospital in my zone being the site of numerous inexplicable occurrences and even full blown apparitions sightings before and after the doors were padlocked and basement windows boarded...<br />
<br />
Reports from a current employee of ongoing ”paranormal” activity in the operational parts of the hospital and rapidly multiplying satellite specially treatment centers concentric to this University Medical Center are also abundant, but I have elected to forgo pursuing this sort of ongoing covert investigation as the reality of doing so respectfully seem to be severally limiting and unconscionably inappropriate...it’s amazing how many out there in the paranormal community espouse this unwavering “respect for the dead” but reverence for the living or ailing be it in an institutionalized environment or private residence seems to fall by the wayside...<br />
<br />
I would prefer not name this location as it may jeopardize future investigations and the full access I am negotiating, but it probably wont be hard to deduce by description and appearance to those indigenous to or familiar with he Chicagoland area ...A day earlier the new VA Hospital was visited by the President so I suspect my exploration of the old building would have been greatly impeded by the stepped up security measures ... As usual my air of confident officiousness and a largely innocuous agenda in conjunction with the added advantage of my usual solo sojourning methodology presented me with unchallenged admittance...<br />
<br />
World War One Veterans are really the first to exhibit the PTSD related syndrome<br />
known as Shell Shock ...that and a myriad of other obvious complications compounded by exposure to viruses, poison gas, exhaustion from “heavy packing” and hastened redeployment to the front lines following combat related injuries, illness, battle fatigue and psychoneurotic afflictions denied many soldiers the benefit of proper rehabilitation which often ultimately left them bereft of full long term recovery...<br />
<br />
Korea and Viet Nam presented many of the same syndromes and a plethora of new maladies related to Agent Orange and diseases specific to that geography of the Asian Theater ...<br />
<br />
The long term effects of Persian Gulf Veterans is inconclusive but dessert Storm Vets have had inordinately high incidents of children with birth defects aside from the typical stress related disorders and the garden variety of somatic ailments inherent to all wars since these case studies began following The Civil War...<br />
<br />
And while I would prefer delve into another broad sweeping indictment of the treatment many post war Vets received, be it by populist public opposition to foreign policy or the governmentally institutionalized post war care many were provided that was often less than commensurate to the sacrifices they made...many were left to vacillate in the abnegated dignity of neglect, poor funding, mis management, public apathy, and even abuse suffered by those rendered disabled as a result of combat related injuries or left indigent by the debilitation of the<br />
associated PTSDs and the efficacy of treatment they received...<br />
<br />
How prevalent any of this was (if at all) at this particular facility is not widely known<br />
or reported as it was one of the original of the post WWII medical centers for veterans<br />
originally funded by private grants and the philanthropic generosity of a local lumber magnate (another hint) before incorporation by the VA and relocation to a nearby new construct that was also an adjunct to a prestigious medical school...Being one of the original VA prototypes and being subjected to the auspicious eye of the conjoined Medical School, the staff there was probably held to a much higher standard as this was considered a high visibly model (like the new one) so perhaps the inequities inherent to these institutions were not as severe as some of the others of the day but the visage of the forgotten, wheelchair bound Vet that I encountered that afternoon erased the preconceived timestamp from the plight of the post war disabled Veteran as exclusively a social problem from the past...<br />
<br />
My first impression as of this site as I made way west from the inconspicuously innocent anonymity of visitors parking was that by all outward appearances it seemed unobtrusive even in it’s starkly contrasting obsolescence as the physicians rolled by in their new cars to the gated parking that awaited them ahead ...the over growth obscured the majority of the mid level windows but a few of the top story ones remained visible and the brooding that radiated from those seemed concentrated as a result of the others being bordered or blocked by trees, shrubbery and vines....<br />
<br />
The North Gate looked locked (wasn’t)so I opted for a trek along the gate south that runs adjacent to what I’m assuming is a still occupied VA assisted living or convalescent center ...A backhoe was parked on the front lawn of the hospital along a flatbed truck that likely delivered it, but the dismay I felt from the threat of pending demolition was quickly abated by a long trench with dirt steeped on both sides at the rear of the occupied quarters ...<br />
<br />
The old hospital building sits quietly within a fenced off, but unlocked western perimeter<br />
of hospital campus...the derelict institute’s east side is cordoned off from the bustling,<br />
modern, medical metro-plex monstrosity by a rusted, unlocked fence that separates the still occupied residential quarters opposite the old abandoned VA hospital...somewhere within this card accessed gate that looks to have stopped working long ago and is propped open during the day then padlocked at night, is or was a mental health center, but like the main VA hospital building; it too has been shuffled around in favor of a new or remodeled facility...<br />
<br />
Rounding the front of the probably convalescent residency, with my cell phone affixed to my ear as it often is, I walked up on a lone elderly, wheelchair confined gentleman languishing sedately at the side of the building seemingly oblivious to my approach...as I ambled by he gazed up at me with an apoplectic expression that I met with a smile and a nod, then he jerked erect in the chair and reacted violently as if in a phobic aversion my very presence until he screamed “ Get that cell phone away from me, it’s bad for me! ” I promptly obliged him with a stunned “sorry” and terminated my call by folding the phone closed and stuffing it my front pocket as I simultaneously made a wide bypassing arc around him...he continued to notify my of his disapproval even as I rounded corner out of his range of sight ...I reminded myself that this man may have fearlessly put his life on the line to ensure my freedom to use that phone at my discretion and to ultimately post the photos I was about to take on the internet...of course the appointment of an internet regulating czar may restrict this in some capacity for all of us soon, thus making the uncompromising bravery and selfless sacrifices like the wheelchair bound man I just encountered to upheld the ideals of liberty an effort fought in vain...<br />
<br />
The trench entrenched construction workers paid little attention to me and seemed more focused on cajoling one of crew to intimate details of the preceding evening’s date that was apparently the culmination of weeks of nervous anticipation for this ordinarily hapless and unconfident co worker...aside from a few ephemeral inquisitive glances as I passed within their immediate range of vision, I was left to my photographic endeavors unhindered...<br />
<br />
The broken concrete slabs symmetrically stacked and backhoe-at-the-ready parked nearby reinvigorated my recent assertions and ruminations that construction work and the accompanying incursions of the vibrational changes that powers tools and heavy equipment will often interject into active yet docile (haunted) location...the front walk was partially obstructed by the flatbed trailer but the front steps were still traversable save for the irrepressible weeds that wield the supernatural seeming force to split and crack even the most fortified of concrete surfaces...the front double doors were chained and padlocked through the dual handles as the manually released striker was probably in the past triggered from a security guard within to grant entry and departure and was stripped and salvaged for parts to be used elsewhere ...<br />
<br />
Even with the trenching activities and the traffic flow on the other side of the fence facing the rear of the main hospital complex, there seemed to be this static bubble of antiquity within the immediate cynosure of the building’s red bricked walls...the ivy vines, trees and thicket of thatch that buffered the east side along the fence was not as fecund on the west side but a wall that backed an L shaped tunneled walkway and led from the rear of the building to a satellite structure that no longer exists or perhaps the old parking lot, created a cordoned off quadrant<br />
of quietude from the chaos of activity that buzzed like hornets from all directions ...<br />
<br />
The insular respite that the ivied west wall and the brick backed and partially overgrown roof of the in-ground passageway provided was especially poignant and almost peaceful...that is until I found a few open basement windows where the plywood was removed and the stale, cold, damp air wafted from below in that all to familiar assault on the senses that never fails to compromise my composure before the tell tale tingle from my solar plexus even has a chance to disconcert me legitimately...<br />
<br />
Before I waded too deeply into the facade of isolation that this concave of concealment provided, I was jolted back to the here-and-now by the rotary reverberation of helicopter blades descending to the landing pad on the other side of the fence that I captured shots of landing...the “Life Star” logo on the side became visible through the zoom lens and as soon as the runners hit the floor of the landing pad, the side doors were already opening to meet the ambulance that was pulling up to shuttle the patient the short distance to the ER across the parking lot...I did fact manage to capture a closeup video from the landing pad of the chopper taking off on the way back to the car and the You Tube link is below ...<br />
<br />
The invasion of reality into my fantastical mind set was short lived as I returned to the west end<br />
and proceeded to cup my hands over several of the basement windows that were not covered or missing and noticed many in the northeast portion of the basement were retrofitted with interior chain link style security bars ...most of the east facing windows were covered by plastic sheeting that looked like a concerted effort was made to block visibility from the hospital parking lot or perhaps discourage the voyeuristic viewing of the living from within...it seems as though painstaking efforts were made to opaque or obscure the windows that were not boarded or overgrown and as the boarded windows presented a considerable eye sore as opposed to the visibility of empty rooms from the perspective of the hospital or VA residence, I am of the opinion that simple aesthetics or added fortification against trespassers was not the only motive for this based on the illogic of the scheme ...this summation was further solidified by the confided reports of apparitions glaring from the second and third story windows at overnight hospital employees showing up for third shift duty sending them fleeing in terror LOL (sorry) ...<br />
<br />
I decided to hop over the wall and roof of the in-round corridor in order to circumnavigate the backtracking required to reach the north (rear) of the building where the loading dock and service elevator is located...the crumbling walls of the recessed, narrow driveway created a horse blinder effect limiting my vision to the ivy strangled north face wall as I descended towards the open gate of the service elevator ...a stagnant pool of mud-rust tinted black of interminable depth reflected the cloud cover above in it’s darkened stillness but after a couple of obligatory photos a splash rippled the 10 X 10 square box of rainwater from an object that must have dropped from above ...considering that the bottom of the lift platform was visible as stopped at the ground floor and just a few feet over my head at loading dock level, the source of this object left me baffled especially since I made no physical contact with the frame or base of the gate for the 2-3<br />
photos I took...as I turned to commence with my ascent up the ramp, I glimpsed a figure in the second story window that seemed to retreat beyond the periphery of my sight as soon as I reacted to spotting it ...I rounded back at ground level to see if I could detect any activity within but could see none ...<br />
<br />
The tunnel was partially accessible and I bristled when I was able to peer into the barred basement windows and noticed the darting shadows the plastic covered windows created when the traffic along the fence diffused the light filtering in danced over the still present stainless steel examination tables visible within...at the far end of the tunnel; the shrill shriek of noncompliant, rusted metal hinges and the accompanying scrape of a heavy metallic door on loose rubble echoed through the pervasive narrow darkness that was only dotted by the intermittent small, square, eye level windows along the sides ...a shriek that almost matched the bizarre noise my cell phone made in my front pocket as I backed toward the door and hastened yet another stiff legged retreat through the rusted gate ...<br />
<br />
<br />
Life Star Liftoff:<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGxgGh-xNXY">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGxgGh-xNXY</a><br />
<br />
<br />
Here are the unedited (compressed) photos my 6/2010 visit (90 total)....b<br />
<a href="http://s843.photobucket.com/albums/zz355/BestOnEarth/An%20Old%20VA%20Hospital/">http://s843.photobucket.com/albums/zz355/BestOnEarth/An%20Old%20VA%20Hospital/</a>Manteno State Asylumtag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2010-05-17:2227378:BlogPost:1716112010-05-17T20:30:21.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
The Manteno State Asylum<br />
by Barek Halfhand<br />
<br />
<br />
It has been close to a decade since I have been to Manteno Illinois, and while growth and development has since peppered the predominately rural landscape with prefab-ish subdivisions along the straights of Rt 57 just north of the Manteno exit, the small town, Main Street charm beside the railway looks unchanged. The community of approximately 7,000 is still largely a farming/agricultural community but also hosts a balance of industrial, corporate…
The Manteno State Asylum<br />
by Barek Halfhand<br />
<br />
<br />
It has been close to a decade since I have been to Manteno Illinois, and while growth and development has since peppered the predominately rural landscape with prefab-ish subdivisions along the straights of Rt 57 just north of the Manteno exit, the small town, Main Street charm beside the railway looks unchanged. The community of approximately 7,000 is still largely a farming/agricultural community but also hosts a balance of industrial, corporate and small business transplants as well, such as being home to one of K-Mart’s main distribution centers...yet the still operational grain elevator that sits along the train tracks and dominates the northern downtown view seems to be revered and cherished as opposed to being shunned as archaic...The Farmers Elevator Company that was founded in 1913 proudly displays “Village Of Manteno” on it’s main freshly painted, track-side grain silo ....<br />
<br />
The State Hospital has a profound and complex history and since it’s inception back in 1929 and dedication in 1930...today over a third of the campus like, single or 2 story buildings have been renovated and is owned by the Illinois Department of Veteran’s affairs and this was my first exposure to the area a decade ago when a contractual project assigned me there for the majority of a summer, and yes some the structures occupied or otherwise that lie within the fenced perimeter of the Vets Home are considerably active...<br />
<br />
The State Mental Hospital/ Asylum had been a source of employment for many in the area at the time , fear for some when the facility began housing “mittimus residents” (deemed non violent but not fit for release felons) and perhaps even shame as the rumors of abuse and neglect surfaced during the post WWII overcrowding...the under staffing dilemma and the now archaic and questionably ethical practices of electro shock therapy, cold water treatment and orbital/full frontal lobotomy was commonly administered then. but some feel it was abusive barbaric, or at least irresponsibly overseen by today’s standards...<br />
<br />
What has not been renovated, rehabed or demolished outside of the DVA property is boarded up tight or so structurally comprised by outward appearance that slipping inside one of the few buildings that still contain the artifacts of it’s past will soon be merely a notation of historic record and fading memory... but I was fortunate enough to experience just one of those remaining sites...I do not recommend that anyone ventures inside alone as I often do ...and yes I went in the basement...<br />
<br />
There is a palpable stress dissipation that I experience the farther from the elevated urgency of urban proximity I journey...it may be the uncluttered mundania of emerging farm-scape, the liberation from the congestion and chaos of the convergent interstate toll way systems near the Indiana-Illinois border to the east or perhaps it is the facade of ephemeral expatriation from the pulsating negativity endemic to Chicagoland commuting...a negativity that most would agree is physically perceptible regardless of their personal beliefs related to PSI sensitivities inherent to all of us....<br />
<br />
The Veteran’s Home was easy enough to find just from memory, but it proved to be a daunting task locating the last of the remaining State Hospital structures outside of the DVA fences that were not converted to offices, training centers, day care and machine shops as I seldom roamed south of the Vets home in the past...The old hospital administration building managed to retain it’s classic architectural aesthetics despite the current occupancy by HomeStar Bank...<br />
the preservation efforts appear to have exterior upgrades limited to the retrofitting of energy efficient windows and the modernization of secure and accessible door schemes ...<br />
my understanding is that this commendable commitment to authenticity was extended to the<br />
interior restoration efforts as well...<br />
<br />
<br />
..I did get a shot of the gazebo steepled front of the building but the distraction of<br />
locating an asylum structure that was not gutted or leveled hastened my departure ..<br />
<br />
The Google Earth topographical perspective is usually deceptive when utilized as a navigational tool from ground level ( especially when you are too lazy to include your laptop with your journalistic field accouterments and have to work from memory )...there is an odd<br />
checker board of single story townhouse apartments and converted office/industrial park sites beyond the old admin building and with each block I circled the consternation of possible defeat intensified ...then I found what may be the very last of the original facility that has not been completely stripped of it’s interior fixtures and residual impressions ...<br />
<br />
This remote corner of the property seems like it is intentionally avoided and the adjacent roads, sidewalks and empty lots are purposefully neglected ..there is farmland to the west and an overgrown vacant stretch of field bordering a golf course to the south...the virtually identical building directly across the street to the north has a tall fence that severely limits or completely restricts visibility of this enigmatic structure from within and to the east all facing windows are bricked up and painted...it seems like an exorbitant amount of effort was made by both neighboring offices/shops for it to simply an attempt to block an “eyesore” from view that is slated for inevitable demolition or rehab ....<br />
<br />
My initial circumspection of the facility was not encouraging as the first entrance I noticed was a chained metallic double door that looked to be bulging from a force exerted from within, leaving a notable gap in the middle that was wide enough to permit a glance into the stale, dank darkness that awaited me...the front entrance foyer sits at the end of a broken yet traversable sidewalk flanked by a lawn that looked like it has had not met with the mighty blades of a state or locally subcontracted maintenance crew yet this year and if left unchecked would likely require a machete to wack the burgeoning grass blades and dandelions that are mutating into sunflowers to a manageable length..<br />
<br />
The box fronted foyer looked to have a framed door the was deprived of its plated windows long ago but from the distance appeared to be small and festooned with jagged glass shards thus prompting a westbound reconnaissance hike around the building to seek out alternative access...the rain soaked grass from the overnight deluge was already starting to penetrate my boots so I retreated to the relative dryness of the sidewalk along the road that provided me with a panoramic perspective of this enigmatic structure that seemed to be in a much worse state of disrepair than I at first surmised...visible missing portions of the roof implied a comprised overhead structural integrity and when I approached the Pantheonic styled pillar lined western entrance I found myself further disconcerted to find large and rather heavy looking portions of<br />
sheet-rock from the underside of the veranda’s roof had fallen to the cloister’s concrete slab below...<br />
<br />
The west side door was completely removed revealing the stillness of the one the recurrent large halls that may have served as a dinning room, common area or perhaps even one of those wards that the old photos depict as filled with rows of beds along the walls and down the middle with only small isles and spaces in between...there was once over 22 of these identically designed “H” shaped buildings in this new and innovative for the time; campus style state facility ...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The feeling of hubris I was enjoying for locating this holdout building at a site that is on the brink of extinction and further finding it readily accessible was quickly abated when I crossed the<br />
threshold of that side door ...depressing and sad and in some instances there is an anguish of despair like I have yet to experience to this extreme...why anyone would be cursed to such a tormented existence in life continues to elude me, but my tenable conjecture and intuitive affirmations that those that are already suffering with mental illness may also be subject to the selective harassment of low level predatory entities is repeatedly reinforced by places like this be it occupied or otherwise...<br />
<br />
The holes in the wooded roof created a spotted suffused lighting to add to the bleak eeriness inside and the debris strew floor had standing water up to a few inches deep in some places rendering my already soggy boots to a soaked state of squishiness that you all better appreciate...<br />
I’m still waiting for someone tho express gratitude for me almost freezing to death at<br />
Peabody Estate on New Years Day just to get those sunrise shots lol...<br />
<br />
The water on the floor was negligible in most of the places that was not completely covered with broken glass, beer cans, miscellaneous debris and portions of the ceiling that fell to the floor thus exposing the decaying wooden roof above...there is a cacophony of sounds ranging from birds fluttering about the rafters, water dripping, wind moaning through the holes in the roof that the elements and time continue to multiply and others that I have yet to discern...the graffiti and gratuitous vandalism is utterly senseless to me and even in my youth I can remember being at a quandary as to why some kids insisted on participating in such wanton destructive behavior ...some of the markings on the walls were of such an obscene nature that many of the non conventional camera angles you will see in a the PB album are intended to limit or obscure visibility of the content...<br />
<br />
The bathroom and tub-room fixtures are still recognizable even though almost all of the toilets have been smashed into porcelain shards ... probably the cathartic expression of a self actualization achieved by the liberating epiphany of acknowledging and confronting a deeply buried and sublimated potty training trauma ...the concrete bases of the bathtubs have even been subjected to the nihilistic seeming need of someone to obliterate all traces of the asylum’s dark and sordid past (that or they just like to break stuff )...<br />
<br />
<br />
The oppressive mood there is probably palpable to everyone whether they are sensitive, psychic or “normal” alike...but if any of you that decide to make the pilgrimage there before this last symbolic relic of what many construe as a failed state medical institution and (imho) a place of highly localized, elevated and concentrated paranormal activity is gone, I suggest that those that are endowed with psychical proclivities or may simply be sensitive to these energies, observe self shielding practices, religious protective invocations or employ simple mental preparation exercises prior to entering this site as it drained me really bad...<br />
<br />
While much of the graffiti is of a pruriently depraved nature, there are instances in certain areas that overtly suggest satanic overtones as much as they are likely gang tags...and while dabbling with either can obviously have adverse consequences, this far enough away from the city that<br />
I tend to attribute the gang symbolism to suburban middle class mischief more than real gang affiliation...although I hear those “Manteno Warlords” are serious players with a lot of “street cred” these days ...<br />
<br />
The small, square courtyards that are on both sides of the dual hallways and interconnect the east and west sings, have long since reverted to an overgrown thicket from that of a carefully manicured patch of lawn, meticulously pruned trees and sculpted shrubbery...the are basement windows on opposite sides of the walls below ground level and boxed off by railings...a copse of full grown trees are growing from a couple of the basements wells in a constricted bundle contained by those metal piped railing bars ...the seedlings that found their way into the sediment rich bottom of the window wells and the roots continue to crumble the concrete that confines them from beneath ...<br />
<br />
One of the basement wells that was not claimed by migrant saplings and long since relieved of it’s glass presented a forbidding yet irresistible allure of ominous intrigue...as I approached the moss marred bars of the railing a stream of cold air flowing from the darkness below stopped me in my tracks for a moment but I proceeded to climb the railing and drop to the mystery flooring below ...the only thing visible were a few insulated pipes but the cold intensified as I crouched down to stick a single camera clutching arm into the blackness to secure a few shots with the flash on ...Only after I was satisfied with number of varying photos I could achieve from the restrictive vantage point of the narrow window did I realize that my free arm was white knuckle clutching the railing ...not necessary to prohibit falling but more likely subconscious defensive posturing...the concerted effort to severely limit contact with the filthy and lichen slicked railing was like an arthritic game of “Twister” as I attempted extricate myself from the well without getting even dirtier than I already was ...much to my chagrin I later found an unobstructed staircase to the basement as I circled the building from the east wing doors and rounded my way back to the north end where I started and parked ...<br />
<br />
The stairs were caked with mud but easily traversable as I cursed myself for the now<br />
black streaked jeans I was wearing by climbing the courtyard railing just to acquire a couple of shaky shots through the window...as I stepped on the staircase landing the gust of almost industrial grade frigid air flowing from the open door below actually forced me to tack a few steps back in retreat as this preternatural cold was enough to trigger a reflexive response from the shock ...<br />
<br />
As I turned the corner to a small room that served to accommodate the fire, electrical, phone and other specialized, antiquated control panels, I noticed on the wall opposite the entrance was a small flight of 3-4 steps leading to another door-less opening in the wall, from which even colder air and blacker darkness threatened ...the sardonic, cackling laughter similar to what I heard at the Mayslake Friary faintly echoed through the opening at the top the short stairway leading to the main basement of one of the wards that I struggled to photograph from the courtyard window well ...the growing sense urgency was escalated by the low ceiling and limited visibility beyond the split level entrance that revealed the main expanse of one of the ward’s sub spaces...the inexplicable cold was intense enough now to cause me to shudder slightly as I leaned against one of the square, intermittently spaced, main structural support columns closest to the door to adjust the camera settings (Heaven forbid I should ever bring a flashlight along) ...<br />
<br />
<br />
The state of marginally manageable discomfort I felt when I transcended the perceived safety line of demarcation at the door frame moments early, was now culminating into almost full blown panic<br />
as the claustrophobic confinement of the low ceiling and restrictive low light vision pressed down on me...the maddening, inescapable drops of tainted water that filtered their way down<br />
from above continued to find me as I shifted nervously in my crouched defiance...even as I write this; my skeptical rationale is attempting to deny, mitigate or completely extirpate the familiar, seething black mist that coalesced out of the darkness towards me thus abruptly terminating my first visit....<br />
<br />
Here are the unedited (compressed) photos my 5/2010 visit (146 total)....b<br />
<a href="http://s843.photobucket.com/albums/zz355/BestOnEarth/The%20Manteno%20State%20Asylum/">http://s843.photobucket.com/albums/zz355/BestOnEarth/The%20Manteno%20State%20Asylum/</a>Mt Carmel Update: Al Capone-The Italian Bridetag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2010-04-22:2227378:BlogPost:1691302010-04-22T18:10:22.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<br></br><br></br>Mount Carmel Update: Al Capone-The Italian Bride <br></br><br></br><br></br><br></br><br></br>Mt. Carmel’s primary point of interest has generally been the grave of Chicago’s seminal Mobster: Al Capone, but that is just a 3rd of a triumvirate of accompanying legends... a distinction shared by “The Italian Bride” and “The Revolving Tombstone” aside from an assortment of other less notable esoteric oddities and various reports that have surfaced over the years of discarnate entities rumored to linger…
<br/><br/>Mount Carmel Update: Al Capone-The Italian Bride <br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Mt. Carmel’s primary point of interest has generally been the grave of Chicago’s seminal Mobster: Al Capone, but that is just a 3rd of a triumvirate of accompanying legends... a distinction shared by “The Italian Bride” and “The Revolving Tombstone” aside from an assortment of other less notable esoteric oddities and various reports that have surfaced over the years of discarnate entities rumored to linger within the denizens of Queen Of Heaven’s venerable neighbor to the north...<br/><br/> Historically there are notable figures ranging from members of The (da) Bears, The Blackhawks and The White Sox...War heroes, gangsters, politicians are all here as well (is “politician and “gangster” redundant? )There is even a famous, turn of the century Japanese acrobat that was a star attraction of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus when he was contracted to perform under the Big Top ...a stark reminder that regardless of your station in life, inevitably we will all return to our “roots” (not to come across as overtly existential, but I cannot resist an opening for the inclusion of a bad pun )...<br/> <br/> The most perplexing of the three (in my opinion) would be the grave of Julia Buccola-Petta or “The Italian Bride” that is situated facing the northen most fence of the property and is briefly visible from the street by passing motorists before the view is obscured by an office building next to the entrance ...her marker includes a life sized statue of the 29 year old that died giving birth in 1921 donning her wedding gown and solemnly holding a bouquet...the base of the monument has a photo affixed to the front that depicts one of the strangest cases of documented, inexplicable phenomena I have studied to date in all of my excursions to famous locations at home, nationally or even abroad....<br/><br/> Following Julia’s untimely death as a complication of delivering a stillborn, Julia’s mother: Philomena Buccola was understandably fraught with anguish upon losing both her daughter and granddaughter so suddenly ...as she struggled with the ensuing stages of grief she began having recurring dreams and visions of Julia beckoning her from the grave, almost insisting that she was still alive and pleading with her mother to have her exhumed and released ...Philomena petitioned local authorities and finally after permission was granted by a local priest the governmental body of the day that presided over these matters conceded, Julia’s coffin was disinterred six years later in 1927 ( apparently the requirement for a mandatary judicial order was not enacted until 1978 ) ....<br/><br/> When the wooden coffin was unearthed, it was rotted and sodden from the 6 long years it was in the ground ...but when the lid of the coffin was carefully removed the witnesses were astonished to discover that Julia’s body bore no sign of decomposition, her skin retained it’s color and not the pallor of death...she basically looked exactly like she did the day she was laid to rest aside from the decay that had partially disintegrated the coffin... embalming was not practiced in the 20's..<br/><br/>Some refer to her unchanged state as “uncorrupted” ...a post mortem condition that the tenants of Catholicism attribute to the candidacy of saintly canonization...of course selfless acts of martyrdom in life are the biggest prerequisite for sainthood consideration, but I personally would deem any woman that dies attempting to deliver life an ultimate act of sacrifice ...Julia’s mother; Philomena suffered the ultimate sacrifice as well and perhaps Julia’s uncorrupted condition was (and still is) a sign from a higher power intended to grant solace to Philomena and martyrdom to Julia..there has been an explanation proffered by (objective) skeptics citing certain soil compositions that has been proven to impede the decomposition process known as “adipocere” or “grave wax” but most agree that this explanation is incongruent with the state of deterioration of the coffin and the unblemished condition of her body...several onlookers described her appearance as pristine and some even touched her face lamenting that: “it was still soft, and her cheeks were still rosy red.” ...there were allegedly visible signs of interior coffin liner decay and dry rot of her dress...<br/><br/>It is unclear if the infant child was buried with her as was the tradition back then, but no evidence of the child was revealed...it is unclear if the child is buried nearby, if it was cremated or if the child survived but was reported stillborn as an effort to sever all ties with the father that was estranged from his in-laws ...there was said to be animosity between Philomena and her Son In Law and it was later confided that mention of him on the tombstone was intentionally omitted ... <br/><br/> There are conflicting reports as to how many were present at the exhumation, and it is unclear how many were on hand to witness the removal of the coffin lid, but the photo of Julia taken by her Mother in her uncorrupted state after almost 7 years in the ground is still attached to the front of the monument today after it was added to her memorial along with the stoic, “bride in waiting” statue...<br/><br/>Reports of a spectral woman in a white dress is a recurring theme in ghost stories, and not unlike Resurrection Mary; there are incidents of the local police department officers catching glimpses of her...at Mt Carmel the police have admitted personal sightings either passing by on Harrison Avenue or when patrolling the cemetery ...<br/><br/>Reports of Julia sightings seemed to have spiked in the mid 70's when students of the Proviso East High school across the street emptied a school dance close to Halloween after a car load of dance attendees claimed to have witnessed a woman in flowing white gown slinking between the stone markers near Julia’s tomb ... thinking this was a seasonally inspired prank they turned around and approached the fence for a closer look where they where stunned by the discovery that the woman who seemed to not notice them, appeared to be completely dry in the downpour rain...<br/><br/>One reported incident involved a family accidentally leaving a small boy at the cemetery in the vicinity of Julia’s grave and when they returned they spotted the child from a distance, emerging from a cluster of tombstones holding the hand of a woman in a white gown...as they drew closer the woman released the hand of the child and receded back among the monuments leaving the boy to the embrace of his relieved parents that found no trace of the white clad woman that was visible a moment prior to their arrival... Other reports made by patrolling police officers and passing motorists describe luminous, amorphous shapes and phantasmic floating forms near her grave ...one woman of impeccable credulity in the community swore that she witnessed her statue glowing in the early twilight hours of a mid 80's summer evening ...<br/><br/> Last summer I was able to locate the graves of Big Al’s north Side Nemesis: Dion O'Banion and a few of his confidantes and lieutenants such as Hymie Weiss, Vincent Schemer” Drucci ( who serve under both O’Banion and his successor Bugs Moran) and the final resting places of a few less known underlings, henchmen and subordinates...ironically these North Side Gang members are all interred on the north side of The Bishop’s Tomb that is a centralized line of demarcation between north and south of the grounds, while Big Al and his loyal second in command of the south side’s The Chicago Outfit and eventual successor: Frank Nitti rest on the southern most section of the cemetery ...<br/><br/> Al Capone often complained of being “haunted” by past adversaries that met their demise by his hand or directive ...he claimed to see a spectral embodiment of a the brother-in-law of Bugs Moran: James Clark... a victim of the infamous St. Valentine's Day Massacre orchestrated by Capone that left seven dead in a conflagration of Tommy Gunfire ...this apparition was repeatedly reported by <br/>Big Al as he languished along side of the man made lake at his lavish Miami estate and semi retirement headquarters to the Chicago mob outfit that he only lead symbolically at the latter stage of <br/>his life that the debilitating, advanced degenerative stages of syphilis had by then dominated...this was said to be the basis for these hallucinations as premature senility would often be the result of syphilis complications ...other rumors of Al’s ghost haunting Alcatraz and the sounds of phantom banjo music emanating from his privileged size cell continue to make the rounds in the contemporary Ghost Hunter pop culture community where locations like this and Waverley Hills are pay-to-investigate style tourist destination for aspiring ghost busting “teams” modeled after the para-TV fad of 2006 through 201X thus lessening the credence of this allegation because of media sensationalism....<br/><br/> Many mafia, gangsters or members of organized crime remained devout Christians thinking generous offering plate contributions would offset the murderous misdeeds that their chosen livelihoods entailed , leaving their conscious unfettered by the guilt of the preceding week’s sins...<br/>the spiritual presence at Mt Carmel is not really in question to me, yet I find myself at a philosophical quandary as to what confines or binds many of those that dwell there ...some may simply remain bound to the consecrated ground where their earthly bodies have been commended pending the prophetic biblical protocols outlined in Revelations coming to fruition and in adherence to their religious convictions, some may remain in a state of spiritual status or hyper dimensional hibernation in acquiescence to “the rapture” ....or perhaps in accordance with the tenants of Christianity that requires one to “rest” until “both the quick and the dead” may be judged, they dwell in a perpetual dream state ...although there seems to be more than a little “sleepwalking” going on if this is the case ...I also have also conjectured that we may discard the negative, worldly aspects of our “selves” upon death to dissipate or descend, while our higher harmonic, vibrational essence achieves ascension...perhaps we have antimatter versions of selves like Mr Spock with a goatee...ironically Kirk’s antimatter alter ego seemed more like William Shatner than the good Kirk from our universe ...<br/> <br/> Perhaps some are inured to the restriction of cemetery property by a sort of self imposed proverbial purgatory, hoping that by serving a pious penance surrounded the dead their sentence will be commuted and absolution achieved by way of post life contrition...many embrace religion in their<br/>the autumnal years hoping that the vicissitudes of life’s transgressions may be mollified by simple repentance or resignation ...perhaps it IS that easy? ...I would be arrogant in scoffing such a notion as no ideology is more prudent than the other until one offers a quantifiable explanation as to precisely what occurred in the instant before “The Big Bang”...until then only a fool is sure about anything as an absolute (imho) .... <br/><br/> Temperatures peaked in the low 80's for this mid April 2010 return to Mt Carmel...<br/>this was the first time I have entered through the Harrison Avenue gate and made a concerted effort to remember a snapshot of the fence from the road this time...arrival from the south gate is usually tempered by the gargantuan death shrine that is the Queen Of Heaven Mausoleum to the left and no <br/>amount of visual aversion or spiritual shielding will dissipate that contamination ...<br/><br/> A single file procession of preschoolers on the sidewalk opposite the cemetery smiled and seemed to be enjoying the warmth of the pre summer sun that left their morning jackets hooked at the <br/>back of a stuffy classroom...the inspiration for the cherubic imagery that is so recurrent in Mt Carmel’s artistry becomes obvious when the effervescence, innocence and trusting faces of these little ones came into focus lead by a protective looking teacher/surrogate mother and followed by an aid, assistant or some other designation that comprised the matriarchal monarchy charged with the daytime care these children ...the obvious and symbolic “cycle of life” contrast between the preschoolers on the right and the cemetery on the left was quickly replaced by the recollection of the volume of children interred beyond the fence and the sprawling expanse of marble and granite monuments within, and with it the realization that there are probably countless stories of sorrow that each and every one of those tiny tombstones promulgate...my thoughts reverted to previous visits and I again found myself distraught over the ordinate seeming amount of child graves from the early 1900's that research has revealed is attributed to the introduction of toxins and carcinogens as a result of the industrial age in Chicago...one portion of the cemetery dedicated exclusively to children is indelibly stained by sadness and it is quite targetable even to the less adept ...<br/><br/>The monolithic granite statues that serve as silent sentinels at the immediate right of the north gates are daunting by their sheer enormity and superhuman size alone ...one wonders if the Arch Angels or fallen angles of Enochian texts were really Giants of extra terrestrial origin that bread a race spawned by the intermingling of Angles and humans <br/>and if descendants of this hybridization walk among us today shrouded by ethnic diversity or if they have long since fallen extinct?..<br/><br/> The single story admin building to the immediate left has yet to show any indication of activity aside from the accessible and relatively clean restrooms at the far end that faces the grave of Julia Buccola-Petta a.k.a.“The Italian Bride” ...the mood at her monument seemed sedate until <br/>the view of the exhumation photo prominently affixed to the front of the base came into focus ...there is a timeless beauty about Julia that may be described as “buxom” or perhaps “voluptuous” and by today’s standards may be labeled as “full figured”, but it is the humble demure that is exuded from her expression captured in the wedding photo also lacquered onto the upper tier of the base that is most enamoring...the photo which<br/><br/>served as the model for the statue her mother selected to exalt the adulation she had for the departed daughter she loved so dearly ... <br/><br/> The decision to cover the entire site in one fell swoop this time around struck me as even more of a daunting task once the sheer enormity of the property was again realized ...previous visits here were abbreviated, bifurcated or subdivided depending on my objectives or focal points of study at the time, but this was the first time I have attempted to adequately represent this location photographically in one aggregate session without hastening or overlooking some of the aesthetic highlights offered in each section... <br/> <br/> The trek south was a zigzag through the area north of the bishops tomb and preoccupied with photographic optimization and conceptualization ... that is until I reached the crypt of Earl “Hymie” Weiss and was informed that “compared him, I was a choir boy”...I nonchalantly reminded him that it was this sort of incorrigible attitude that landed him where he is at age 30 ( after I curtly inform him that: deprived of his Tommy Gun he would not have lasted long in my arena) ...sadly the ineluctable<br/>belligerence he displayed is what restricts him as the etheric echo of the past he represents... <br/><br/> In retrospection; I feel that there is a little Hymie Weiss in all of us...while most of us a capable of sublimating that part of ourselves while others demonstrably seem to lack such composure at times ... I dismissed Mr Weiss as he comported himself as being less than receptive to spiritual <br/>intervention or even the incorporation of an arbitrator from different astral address than ours that were overlapping at that particular temporal pinpoint...<br/><br/> Deanie Obanion’s tall obelisk seems to be almost in defiance as opposed to being in deference of The Bishops Tomb that is majestically perched on a hill across the narrow road that separates the sections (and probably the riff-raff) where the North Side Boss’ marker is placed at the closest border to the adjacent small hill topped by an ornate mausoleum that serves as the final resting place of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin...the view of Obanion’s grave from the hilltop always makes me think of Dean giving them “the finger” when I see it... <br/> <br/>The Rotating Tombstone was imported from Italy and the figures depicted in the statuettes atop the monument represent the members of the family interred below in memoriam and this upper portion is pinion mounted atop a flat base ...having never attempted to move the famous marker myself and the added temptation fueled by the unusual absence of other (live) visitors in the immediate vicinity, I set the camera down and gripped the ladies on the outside of the group pose by the hips and really had to exert a <br/>significant effort get it budge ...it moaned in protestation as I swung it clockwise about a quart of a turn when much to my dismay an officious looking gentleman drove by in an Impala that appeared to be wearing a uniform of some sort ...he slowed down to extend the glare and exaggerate a glower of disapprove and I responded by picking up my camera and snapping a photo of my handiwork (below) but he had already passed beyond view when I moved the top of the monument back into place ...<br/><br/>There have been stories of lone visitors walking past this grave marker and it’s upper and lower segments being in perfect alignment one minute and then being flabbergasted to find it rotated 45 degrees after averting <br/>their attention from it only for an instant with no sign of anyone in the immediate vicinity before or after...more recently an inside (culpable) source intimated to me (another Halfhand Exclusive) that a certain member of the grounds crew was extremely frightened by the fact that the monument was turned to a different angle every time he made a pass with <br/>the lawn mowing apparatus he was riding and pleaded be reassigned to a work detail that excluded approximation to The Revolving Tombstone ...my source does not question the credibility of this employee, but he does in fact suspect other employees of perpetrating what they thought would be an innocuous prank but vowed silence and feigned innocence after their coworker reacted so extremely fearing harsh reprimand ...plus the employee that reported the incidents was considered a “pasar la brocha” and not held in the highest esteem by his fellow Groundskeepers....<br/><br/> Al Capone’s grave is almost incognito in it’s modesty especially when the baroque extravagance of other memorials nearby offer such comparison...perhaps the most enigmatic icons of organized crime, Big Al’s name is almost synonymous with the mobster, gangster, mafia or syndicate image that many not indigenous to the area still associate with Chicago even today ...the current tumult of political corruption at all levels here does little to help exonerate this misconception and seems to imply a cycle of recidivism that only serves to reinforce this misnomer... <br/> <br/> Nestled between the other ground flush stones of his father; Gabriel Capone, his sister; Mafalda and his mother; Teresina (December 28, 1867 – November 29, 1952) here lies the grave of Alphonse Capone... <br/> this was another unusual occasion where there were no other visitors to this famous site ...the Queen Of Heaven Mausoleum across the street features a 3 story Madonna effigy on the it’s west wall that almost seems to be looking down in disdain from it’s lofty vantage and insinuated righteous, aristocracy protected within...Big Al doesn’t care though because “they don’t allow cigars in that joint anyway” ....<br/><br/><br/>Here are the unedited (compressed) photos from my mid April 2010 visit to Mount Carmel....b <br/><a href="http://">http://s843.photobucket.com/albums/zz355/BestOnEarth/Mount%20Carmel%20Update/?start=0</a><br/><br/>Queen Of Heaven Updatetag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2010-03-31:2227378:BlogPost:1646232010-03-31T21:03:29.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
I have always considered Queen Of Heaven one of my personal favorite sites out of the circuit of famous haunted locations that remain supernaturally active within my immediate proximity ...and while repeat visits to these sites may seem redundant or at times even moribund to some, <br></br>I feel that making one visit to a location for a couple of hours is less likely to yield any data or enable even the most astute of “paranormal investigators” to make any sort of an assessment as to the voracity…
I have always considered Queen Of Heaven one of my personal favorite sites out of the circuit of famous haunted locations that remain supernaturally active within my immediate proximity ...and while repeat visits to these sites may seem redundant or at times even moribund to some, <br/>I feel that making one visit to a location for a couple of hours is less likely to yield any data or enable even the most astute of “paranormal investigators” to make any sort of an assessment as to the voracity of a clients claim of “activity” and to suggest such is simply absurd at best,<br/> thus making the multi trip methodology that I embrace one of prudence and obviously one of preference ...<br/><br/> There is a confluence of energies here that fluctuates between negative, positive and nondescript ...the south end of the property that still attracts a fairly steady stream of the devout faithful making their pilgrimage to the famous apparition site that was formally investigated by the Chicago Archdiocese in the early 90's and deemed inconclusive yet has engendered enough interest to necessitate a separate parking lot and circular platform for those that continue to flock to the location to pray in silent vigilance hoping to catch a glimpse the miraculous manifestation similar to that alleged by Joseph Reinholtz in 1990 ...his quest to remedy his ailing vision lead him to war ravaged Bosnia in the late 80's to visit one of the 6 children alleged to have experienced a Marian vision ...a vision that subsequently attracted over 11 million globally, much the way the purported repeat visits to three children in Fatima, Portugal in 1917 precipitated the continuing pilgrimages there by those seeking spiritual alternatives to medical convention as a cure to the incurable or terminate illness deemed terminal...Mr Reinholz’s eye sight returned when he returned to the states after being prayed over in Bosnia by one of the Medjugorje, 6 ( Vicka )...this miraculous and inexplicable return of his sight prompted him to return to Bosnia and “Vicka” a second time in ‘89 where she instructed him to pray and hold vigils at a location near his home in The States where there is a solitary large crucifix next to a three branched tree.<br/><br/>His search for the location prognosticated by the youth on the other side of the globe lead him to Queen Of Heaven 1990 where he experience repeated Virgin Mary and Angelic visions that increased in frequency to a being a daily occurrence before the Archdiocese invoked a sanctimonious seeming “restriction of obedience” order prohibiting Reinholz from returning to the site and launching an official investigation into the validity of the sightings reported ( deemed inconclusive) but as the multitude of those motivated by faith and curiosity alike flocked to the site, the reports of these visions have not relented and the allegations range from the appearance of the effulgent lady to the inexplicable remission of progressive, later stage cancer...the photos continue to surface on the net, some interesting if not compelling, others not so much, in fact one of my fledgling journey there yielded a photo of an image containing an “item” (spotted by an ardent believer) that bore a remarkable likeness to a cherubic angel complete with wings and hands fixed in prayer-like repose (so not metal, but I was intrigued none the less)...a common thread at all of the apparition sites of this propensity are the intermittent, recurrent appearances, anomalous photos, the unmistakable aromatic presence of roses when there are none to be found anywhere nearby ... many claim to experience a sense of renewed spiritual vigor following a site visit and this rejuvenated dedication to their faith would<br/>in some instances manifest itself days, weeks or even months later in the form of Rosary beads changing colors commonly interpreted as encouragement to remain pious ...<br/><br/>The psychology of mass hypnosis/hysteria is one of complexity and of course controversy when the precepts of religious ideology is involved, yet one wonders what the precise mechanics,<br/>environmental factors or atmospheric conditions are conducive to lull thousands into believing the have experienced a common sighting or collective vision ...While locations such as Queen of Heaven, Bosnia, Fatima, Guadalupe and the more famous of these apparition sites are often cited as suspect by skeptics because the visionaries are often small groups of children, the ill stricken, the indigent or those relegated to the lower economic strata of third world origin, the cases of mass sightings such as the one in Cairo Egypt where biblical histrionics contend that Mary, Joseph and Jesus fled the infanticidal tyrant Herod and in 1968 Marian apparitions were viewed by thousands gathered at the site and over a million watched one of these broadcasted on Egyptian television...while the accusations of hoax perpetration abounded following the broadcast, there were scouts dispatched to search the 15 mile radius of the site in an earnest attempt to detect or spot a device capable of projecting this image that would shimmer and coalesce into recognition, but none were located although the integrity of the “scouts” were later scrutinized by a coalition of skeptics claiming it to all be an elaborate ruse intended to infuse tourism into the depressed (at the time) local economy... <br/><br/>The cemetery has a variety of both famous and infamous alike interred and represented in memoriam, including the innocent young souls victimized by the fire that ravaged the West Side: “Our Lady Of The Angels” school on a cold December morning in 1958, claiming the lives of 92 children and 3 Nuns most of which perished by way of smoke inhalation while some fell to their death jumping from upper floor classroom windows to escape the raging inferno that quickly engulfed the antiquated building...a building that was slated to be retrofitted with proper fire escapes, sprinklers and alarms assorted budget constraints and uncertainly concerning the school’s future ...many municipal regulatory changes were made pertaining to fire code adherence and enforcement following this tragedy ...a tragedy that was later determined to be resultant of a boy playing with matches whom was a student of the school and later admitted to <br/>setting fire to the school in 1962 under interrogation ... <br/><br/><br/>There are a couple of pro football players from the early days of organized leagues and the NFL , here...there are senators, luminaries from literary circles, decorated war heroes , Bishops, Cardinals, Priests, Nuns and even a Monk or two ...There are of course nefarious characters such as the Spilotro Brothers, the older of which Anthony (a.k.a. Tony The Ant) was the model for Joe Pesci's character, “Nicky Santoro” in “Casino”...And yes, both him and his younger brother met with a rather unpleasant and ignominious demise at the hand’s of fellow gangsters that left them in a shallow Indiana corn field grave ...There are numerous other mobsters from the annals of Chicago’s illustrious organized crime history too numerous to mention, plus I would prefer to restrict that aspect of local lore to Mt Carmel across the street where Al Capone rests along with his North Side arch rivals ...<br/><br/>The mausoleum was my initial interest there, being situated so close to the road have always been aware of it even when glancing the other direction or engrossed in a cell phone conversation the sensations I experienced would always be enough to prompt me to stop in mid sentence and glance toward the ominous structure that has always insinuated harboring concealed secrets from within ...that is when the call didn’t drop ...<br/>I remember the first trip there ( especially the late August aroma ) and the feeling of almost static shock and rush of anxiety I felt in a staircase when I made the turn at the mid flight platform between floors and touched the brass knob attached to a small wooden door and turning to shoot the camera in mid back-step upwards that yielded one of my first really “interesting” photos from the site, as I was evidently being pursued up the stairs ....<br/><br/>There are varying energies suffused into this building and the many religious icons represented in paintings, etchings and assorted saints in repose that invoke reactions in even those that consider themselves the most impervious to this aspect of symbolic theosophical provocation...often this much of a visceral representation of our inevitable mortality when aesthetically confronted with the endless rows of rectangular crypt embedded in the walls can prove efficacious when viewed by even the most that comport themselves as un effected by such....<br/><br/> the Madonna statue in the basement holding the Christ child has evoked a multitude of differing reactions from a plethora of many adept mediums, clergy and shaman alike...regardless of how diverse the beliefs, cultural backgrounds and ideological perspectives, most seem agree that it is imbued with a vibrant, radiant force or cursed with an unsavory attachment or two ...I have in more than one instance been informed by seemingly culpable sources and unsubstantiated rumors that the early morning hours there, have in the past played host to surreptitious acts of ritualistic desecration...rumors range from live animal sacrifice by occultists attempting to extract the life force released in the death throes and writhing agony of the sacrificial animals to blood basted orgies the likes of which sound more like the sub plot to Roman Pulanski film than reality ...this mammoth, death cult edifice of a building has been the source of much yarn spinning as long as I can remember, in fact the first time I have ever heard of the concept of an EVP came from an older sibling relating the story of older kids hiding cassette recorder inside and hearing moaning voices on the tapes when they retrieved them the following day ...<br/><br/> There has been much speculation, theories, conjecture and even channeled messages tossed around in the assorted forums I have lurked in the past years whenever this site in particular resurfaces ...The Gnostic architecture of the mausoleum and other satellite buildings situated at almost polar vectors of the periphery the property is believed by some to hint at pre Christian, Paganistic influences that those of the more traditional faith orthodoxy have lamented as contributory to the harmonic variable and energies intrinsic to the site while the more metaphysically oriented have speculated that the geometric design of the buildings, the triangulation of ley line vectors, geomagnetic polarity and other assorted unseen forces may contribute to the activity here when this site is the focus of discussion...I personally find myself spending more time trying to differentiate the metaphysical from the metaphoric when these discussions transpire, but I digress ... I personally have postulated the theory that the intersecting networks of Chicago land/Illinois expressways that all converge and bottleneck adjacent to the cemetery in what locals has dubbed <br/>“The Hillside Strangler” (being located in Hillside Ill.) And the endless infusion of negativity that constantly flows from this notorious traffic gridlock continues to reanimate the lower vibrational forces that like to dwell and feed on psychical duress emanating from the suffering survivors of the recently interred ...I have seen many question why a cemetery would be “haunted” ...much of it can be directly attributed to the unintentional channeling you see as in the case of those that make daily or weekly trips to the cemetery in the wake of a recent loss that tend to languish grave side<br/>carrying on a conversation with an unseen participant ....stages of grief effect people in different ways but the emotional state of those in a cemetery is seldom one of unadulterated joy and exultation...if this presiding psychical state resonating from funer repeat visitors that attracts those recently departed ones, personal “guides”, angels or the less savory opportunists of the etheric realm or lower vibrational plains is a matter of personal belief but I am personally of the opinion that there are components of all of these as described above using the closest words I can conjure to definitively describe what I feel may be at work in some of these larger, ecclesiastically themed sites, and the added complication of the almost incessant communal group meditation/genuflection at the apparition site has certainly suffused an energy into the mixture that as at least diversified the almost rainbow tinted aura that encapsulates the site with a luminosity that is visible to some up to a mile away...<br/><br/> The late morning/mid-day visit this time around started as tradition now dictates with the apparition site...this heathen still clings to the notion of good luck charms and the implied protection of dogmatic observances by way of reverence to religious patronage...the section at the southeast corner bordered by the freshly tilled dirt of an undeveloped portion of the property was relatively inactive for a pre spring, unseasonably mild day, save for a couple of somber looking elderly visitors that were departing upon my arrival leaving me and an unoccupied yellow lawn chair positioned facing the crucifix alone to photograph the area uninhibited ...The Madonna statue that has been present at the edge of the asphalt circle has now been elevated to full blown shrine status by way of a new wooden enclosure protecting from the elements the diminutive effigy and a plethora of floral adornments, rosary beads, religious metals and other trinkets offered as symbolic tithing... <br/><br/>I neglected to pinpoint the precise location of the Our Lady Of Peace memorial and had only a vague reference of it by way of the section number to guide me, but being the intrepid traveler that I am, and much the way I located the grave of Mary Alice Quinn (The Miracle Child ) at Holy Sepultre when I got out of the car and wondered blindly into the middle of a huge section of stone markers and found my self standing in front of it; I folded up the targeting array and “used the force” thus driving right to it...I no longer consider this coincidence or simple chance fortunate happenstance his sort of thing occurs as it has happened way too many times for it to be such...<br/><br/> The older section to the north remains stoic in it’s antiquity, yet there is evidence of almost iconoclastic vandalism most prevalent in the Madonna statues with broken off thumbs, fingers or <br/>other extremities...the decapitated statues are usually effigies of Saints while the Arch Angels seem to have their hands removed ...there appears to be symbolic dismemberments meant to insinuate impeded dexterity and disfigurements intended to butcher that revered as most beautiful and putrefy the pulchritudinous ....<br/><br/> The Mausoleum is surreal in it’s abstract opulence albeit the fact that there is almost always a brooding presence perceivable that is immediately imposing and intrinsically deleterious to those sensitive to it ... beyond the defiant, lethargic wooden doors of the main chapel entrance is a foyer with a portrait of a vehement looking late Cardinal whom is almost sneering with disapproval at Mr Halfhand’s impudent irreverence (gulp) ...the chapel has an other wordily purple hue and the wooden crypts flanking the pews are beset by carved wooden figures of Saints either beseeching or exulting God or exhibiting a expression that was intended to be one of contemplative composure yet almost all of them imparted an almost dour grimace in the uneven lighting of the chapel and reflective varnish veneer sheen ...the smell is always the same and is relived with even a cursory glance at any one photo of the interior...it is a stale, rank odor that words cannot be conveyed <br/> adequately by words but it ineluctably etched into my memory and I one I start to experience as soon as the building comes into site in my windshield or Photobucket album index ....<br/><br/> There is only one floor above the chapel that leads to a small concave of crypts and platform overlooking the chapel from the dual pane, tinted opaqued windows ...as I made my way up that solitary staircase leading to this room that beckoned me from below, I was immediately disconcerted by the dank darkness beyond the opened stairwell landing above ...much to my chagrin; the motion sensor lighting failed to activate upon my entry into the room ...the sinewy wooden statue of Mary that is contorted in abstraction is one that I have always found vexing even in the full illuminated lighting of past visits, but now appeared as nothing more than a dark, hooded figure backlit by that chapel balcony windows ...whatever dwells in that observation promontory seems to linger near the statue in a sort of abject mockery...it also seemed to take particular delight in chipping away at my inured composure while I stood there in the darkness ....<br/><br/><br/>Here are the unedited (compressed) photos from my mid March 2010 return to Queen Of Heaven (311 total)....b<br/><a href="http://s745.photobucket.com/albums/xx91/MrHalfhandRulz/Queen%20Of%20Heaven%20Update/">http://s745.photobucket.com/albums/xx91/MrHalfhandRulz/Queen%20Of%20Heaven%20Update/</a>Peabody Update 2-The Friarytag:architectsofanewdawn.ning.com,2010-03-07:2227378:BlogPost:1596792010-03-07T21:29:02.000ZBarek Halfhandhttps://architectsofanewdawn.ning.com/profile/BarekHalfhand
<br></br>A sun drenched, mild mid February afternoon brought me back to the Mayslake/Peabody Estate to complete the Friary edition of the site update...on a day with highs in the upper 30's it seemed like a comparably temperate climate as I flashed back to the frost bitten, sunrise sojourn through the fields and sparsely wooded east side of the property to bypass the locked front gates of Mayslake Hall...one wonders if the frigid cold winter and excessive snow fall of 2010 will be attributed to…
<br/>A sun drenched, mild mid February afternoon brought me back to the Mayslake/Peabody Estate to complete the Friary edition of the site update...on a day with highs in the upper 30's it seemed like a comparably temperate climate as I flashed back to the frost bitten, sunrise sojourn through the fields and sparsely wooded east side of the property to bypass the locked front gates of Mayslake Hall...one wonders if the frigid cold winter and excessive snow fall of 2010 will be attributed to “global warming” or if now our carbon footprints will be the catalyst for the next ice age...either way I suspect the unpredictability of Chicago winters will defy any or all regulatory efforts to stave off the inevitable cataclysmic consequences of our evil, imperialistic ways...the direct sun was a welcomed warmth as the dampening depth of the snow crunched underfoot when I departed the well traversed path that circles the outer parameter the lake...I have had little luck pinpointing the original location where Mr Peabody expired while participating in a a fox hunt on the south side of the lake and the subsequent original site where the replica of the Portiuncula Chapel was constructed in memoriam, but I shall endeavor to continue research on that in the future ...<br/><br/> The history of this property is certainly not restricted to the relatively contemporary Eurocentric<br/>cultural heritage, but as early archival records and archaeological evidence indicates; there where as many as 50 Potawatomi villages in the area between the mid 1700's and mid 1800's and one is described as “near Mayslake in Oak Brook” ...these homogenous, interwoven Native Americans<br/>managed to maintain a relatively peaceful and symbiotic coexistence as fur traders<br/> with the early settlers, many of which intermarried with the migrant French, English, Scotch and Irish while the primarily ”purebred” tribes consisting of Potawatomi, Chippewa and Ottawa were forcibly relocated to reservations west of the Mississippi by way of Andrew Jackson’s “Indian Removal Act” ...the decedent lineage of the “Metis” families (French for “mixed blood”) became the sole remaining Native Americans in the area by that late 1800's...<br/> <br/> The future of the enigmatic red bricked building at southern most end of the Mayslake property remains uncertain ...following the Franciscans vacating the premises in late 1991, and following it’s acquisition by the Du Page County Forrest Preserve, it has been at the epicenter of litigation...at present a morass of legal wrangling has stymied all proposals including those<br/> pursuant to the ambitious 12 Million dollar renovation plans to convert the facility into a 93 unit assisted living center by the Du Page Housing Authority... a project that remains contingent on the resolution of a quagmire of zoning restrictions, revamped regulatory commissions and the continued exorbitant expense of heating, grounds maintenance and vandalism prevention measures...the adjusted cost of which is estimated to be well over $60,000 a year, plus it has already been the recipient of several preservation oriented grants, bonds and provisional incentives to reinvigorate the aging, dilapidation besieged behemoth of a building ...there has even been proposals for low income, studio style apartments but that was quickly squelched by local zoning commissioners in the wake of a torrent of protests from the adjacent wealthy subdivisions ...little has been reported in the way of recent updates ...<br/> The building was built entirely by hand by the industrious Brothers of the Franciscan Order over the course of 17 years between 1950-1967 ...following the purchase of the entire estate by The Franciscan Order of the Sacred Heart for $450,000 in the wake of Mr Peabody’s death in 1925,<br/>the original seminary was built on the west side of the property between 1925-27 and was demolished in 1992 ...<br/><br/>Incidentally one of the most recent documented cases of stigmata was that of Franciscan; Saint<br/>Padre Pio ...and as members of this order have been alleged to have the most reported instances of visions and stigmata, the highest concentration of Padre Pio’s exhibition of this occurred during the time frame of the Franciscans acquiring the Peabody property...<br/><br/> The St Paschal Friary is an almost symbolic edification of the changing ecclesiastically institutionalized secularism that sub denominated Catholicism in favor of more archdiocese<br/>concentric ordination ...the blue tarp that is draped precariously over a large portion of the southeast wing’s roof is as unlikely to prevent water saturation as efforts to cling to antiquated theosophies will prevent the ebb and flow of religious modernization ...this building is the is the ultimate iconoclastic religious relic ....<br/><br/> The tracks of a big wheeled, off road vehicle systematically compacted the snow in circular, concentric patterns on the friary’s north lawn...the efforts to meticulously flatten and compact the snow on the stately, hickory and oak dotted stretch of land that overlooked the lake to the north struck me as bizarre ...I thought back to my pervious trip and to the multitude of inexplicable and almost identical in diameter bonfire remains that I encountered as I plodded through the fresh powder padded fields en rout to Mayslake manor as the sun rise pursued me from the east...<br/><br/>My annoyance at the prospect of having my photos tainted by the tread marked landscape was quickly replaced by relief after a mere hundred or so yards of quicksand-like deep snow suddenly transformed into an easily traversable hike across the tractor flattened winter landscape...I elected to make an approach from the northwest as the past summer visits denied me exploration of the overgrowth that strangled the western portion of the property beyond the flight of stairs and Stonehenge like monolithic benches that lined the edge of the western driveway and terminated at a rather steep decline into the thicket below ...<br/> As anticipated; the winter stripped underbrush was now visibly accessible save for assorted burr hitchhikers and thorn pricks...the bottom of the staircase revealed a concrete wall and what proved to be a boarded up doorway next to a long inoperative water fountain and PA speakers ...<br/> <br/>A square hole in the concrete slab under the staircase almost mocked me with the darkness it exuded ...the flash of the camera exposed a small room with what appeared to be tightly sealed off doorways...one leading south in a probable tunnel to the garage and one to the left, that likely intersected with the boarded up outer entry and back under the pavement overhead to the main building in what I in visualized as an elaborate network of underground catacombs and secret passages... my imagination requires little in the way of provocation to construct such elaborations ( no really) ...when I walked up to the square foot opening in the wall, an almost paralyzing apprehension built up inside of me as my arm crossed over the concrete threshold separating the inside from the out...I felt a gust of putrescent air rush past my shoulder with an almost audible moan...the flash from the camera lit up the black void long enough to confirm the narrow space beyond was also subject to a concerted effort to seal off all of the interconnecting passage ways as described above...the nail secured inner doors and spot weld fortified connecting door leading to the south in the general direction of the parking garages, left me a quandary as to where the stale, crypt like air could have originated but the view I had was limited and a good portion of the room was obscured by this limitation...I actually stumbled back away from the gaping hole as I remembered that I experienced the same fetid, inexplicable groan of exhalation when I crouched down to get a shot of the basement in the courtyard from a small circular hole in a boarded window last summer ( now patched ) ...I followed the outer lower level wall along the entanglement of vines overgrowth until a snow caked ramp led me to street level in between the garage and the main building ...further exploration of the rear of the garage and some careful circumnavigation of spike tipped bushes unveiled a two story chimney incinerator that I was unable to open for inspection because the cross bar latch seemed to be pounded in to immobility by a hammer flattened iron sleeve thus locking the free end of the latch bar in place<br/><br/>As I skirted the evergreens that were once decorative adornments to the rear of the garage but now struggled for distinction among the reclamation efforts of the prairie vegetation, I discovered a short but steep flight of powdered steps along the side of the incinerator structure... stairs that spilled out into an open patch of grassland to the rear and opened bottom portion of the chimney stack ...the scorched, blackened brick interior retained the carnal stench of countless refuge infernos, but even the burned remnants of the last incendiary cinders that once smoldered were now symbolically doused by the squared mound of snow that flaked it’s way down the open flue ...<br/><br/> As I coursed my way back along the back of the rear if the evergreen lined garage, I noticed that every possible window, door, hatch and vent had been effectively barricaded...as I rounded the southeast end of the virgin snow depth that rudely packed my ankle length, side zip business-man style boots, I longed for my snowmobile footgear that I wore last time around ...and while those boots resemble an Ace Frehley costume accessory, they were well insulated and water tight...<br/><br/>Almost all of the lower level door windows were boarded up and while there were some signs of recent vandalism by way of broken windows on the first floor, many of those that remained un shattered were plywood plated from the inside ...contrary to common sense; I found myself wondering if this was intended to circumvent something from escaping from within as much as it was a preventive measure against an illicit entry as I proceeded under the arched passage leading into the courtyard in the center of the main building ...the last time I was here was a night visit and the pervasive darkness of the courtyard and intermittent interior lighting created an eerie, shadow shifting translucent effect when intermixed with the headlights streaking down Rt 83 that bled through from the north facing windows to the 4 stories of narrow windows facing the south end of the courtyard ...<br/><br/>The howling winds of that summer night provided a cacophony of creaking, cracking, whistling, moaning and tarp flapping sounds ....the stillness and light drenched afternoon of this visit did little to help diminish the growing unease or abate the closed in sensation that the outer walls incurred ...sensations that were already welling up inside me as soon as I passed under the arched buttress that seemed like a line of demarcation that separated the relative security of the exterior from the dark oppression dwelling within ...the acoustically isolated quiet was instantly shattered by a concussive thump when a huge slab of sun dampened snow slid from the steeply slanted roof and landing at my heals ...an insidious, cackling laughter echoed from a gaping hole in a fiberglass ceilinged basement addition that extended into the ground at about waste level...I continued to shoot off the camera in defiance until I was beset by a sudden loss of equilibrium and nausea...the vexing snicker followed me past the arch as I hastened a my unsteady retreat ....<br/><br/>Here are the unedited (compressed) photos from my mid February 2010 visit (181 total) ....b<br/><a href="http://s994.photobucket.com/albums/af68/HafhandNation2/Peabody%20Update%202-%20The%20Friary/">http://s994.photobucket.com/albums/af68/HafhandNation2/Peabody%20Update%202-%20The%20Friary/</a>