Read "Weirder Than Weird" 18 Bizarre Tales From a Disturbed Mind Page 23

“In the waning year of 1931, I was twenty-one years young and fresh out of college. I earned my degree in Journalism and was bursting with youthful confidence knowing that a long and happy life of journalistic endeavors lay before me. Only, things didn’t turn out quite the way I expected.

  “Coming out of college, there were bills to pay. Lots and lots of bills. My original intention was to gain employment with one of the more prestigious newspapers or magazines in the country, but after a number of dispiriting rejections I settled for a newer, albeit seedy magazine at the time called-- Weird Society. A true forerunner of the tabloid magazines that were to follow in later years, Weird Society wasn’t really intended for intellectual stimulation; on the contrary, this was the beginning of the depression years and the magazine’s focus was to bring to a gloomy yet, sensational-hungry audience some form of entertainment-- a diversion of sorts to help them forget, at least for a time, the dismal circumstances behind their own pathetic lives.

  “As it turns out, people were extremely eager and willing to drop their last dime in order to read about a phantom ship crossing the ocean or the latest ghost story. More often than not, they would immediately turn to the gratuitous sex romp that was included in every edition. In the beginning, our stories were based mostly on heresay, legend, or a large dose of fabrication from enthusiastic staff writers who had absolutely no compunction about stretching the truth from here to Sunday. This type of writing was not only encouraged by the magazine’s editor, but demanded. With new subscriptions coming in daily, the magazine’s coffers swelled to record heights and the powers that be finally determined that an air of authenticity would be needed in order to keep the magazine alive and in long- term circulation. This meant that its reporters were now charged with finding original and exciting stories outside their borders. Much to my delight, I became one of those globe- trotting reporters.

  “Of course, being that I was the newest addition to the staff, I didn’t rate choice assignments to places like Italy or Spain. Instead, I went to less far off and less exotic lands like Paraguay and Chile to report on odd stories that had to do with things like haunted villages or unidentified lights in the sky. It seemed that I was the reporter of choice for Central and South America, but I didn’t grumble much-- it was still quite an adventurous experience for a young lad who had never stepped a foot outside his own small town before.

  “After a few well received stories, I was appointed to an indefinite stay at a little town in Peru called Mancora. My editor thought it more practical for me to stay centrally located in case I should have to pick up and leave to track down a story. The truth is, the company didn’t like the idea of me coming all the way back to the States after every story, which of course, cost them a boat load of money. I’m a practical man myself; I could see their point, but even in spite of the wonderful friends that I made in Mancora and the obvious paradise that I lived in, I still became desperately home sick.