Ghost Newsletter

FROM THE DESK OF JAMES MORTIMER BLACK

GHOST NEWSLETTER has received a number of letters requesting information about James Mortimer Black. The questions are justified, so I will answer them as truthfully as I can. First and foremost was, "Who is James Mortimer Black?" Well, I am exactly what I appear to be...a ghosthunter. However, I feel that I must point out that I do not spend my nights running through foggy graveyards with a silver cross in one hand and a sprig of garlic in the other...doing battle with headless horsemen, bats that turn into bloodsucking men, or folks that grow hair at the sight of a full moon. I am first of all a researcher who investigates the phenomena that people choose to call ghosts. For the lack of a better word, I call them that also.

AS a researcher, it is my first duty to try and prove these events to be of normal substance, and of a known quality. I'm sorry, but that has been my life's work. But if there is no explanation for what has occurred, or no clear definement to show proof as to what has been seen or heard...then we must look elsewhere for the answer. Saying there is no such thing as ghosts just doesn't cut it in these cases. I must use my knowledge of that which we call spirits to explain what they are.

In some cases, these spirits are made from within the minds of the persons who believe they are being haunted. There isn't anything to be done for these people beyond trying to convince them that the past is gone, and that they must let go of the loved ones who are dead. This happens often in cases where someone has lost a child, or a mate of many years. They can't let go.

Then, in some cases...actually, a lot of cases...someone is only out to fool poor old James M. Black. And to these simple folks, I give my pardon and a kick in the pants. It's remarkable the lengths stupid people will go to entertain themselves. And it wastes my valuable time.

In any case, I will only be reporting the serious cases in which people have requested my help. I take my work very serious, as those who know me well will tell you.

One more thing... I do not do television shows, nor do I fight in public with the so-called debunkers. They have a right to their opinions, and I really don't care if anyone believes me or not. It's not my problem. Besides, it doesn't matter what anyone has to say on the subject. Those who believe will continue to do so...and those who don't believe can't be convinced. It's up to you what you choose to believe.

GHOST NEWSLETTER is the first publication I have given my time and name to. If, at any time, I think they are not doing right by the public, I will pullout. They know this, and understand perfectly.

I hope this insight clears up the questions you asked, and helps you to understand me better. And please feel free to write if you have any problems you desire help with...of a ghostly nature, of course.

Your Servant,

James Mortimer Black

GHOST NEWSLETTER

New Copyright 1991 by Rosalee Bailey Tipton

Rosalee Bailey Tipton Editor
A Newsletter For The True Believer---????

Welcome to our current issue of GHOST NEWSLETTER. We are happy to have you with us once more for another trip through the world of the supernatural. We have some excellent true ghost stories in this issue, as well as the last part of "THE FACE ON THE TOMBSTONE," which has been taken from one of James Mortimer Black's numerous cases.

This is our seventh issue, and we couldn't be happier with the response we have received from the public. It is evident that many of you are deeply interested in the paranormal...if there is such a thing. I have always believed that there isn't anything unnatural, if only we knew the right formulas to prove it.

And speaking of interest, we are looking forward to hearing from more of you, our readers. So, sharpen your pencils and get your paper out, and drop us a line. We'd love to hear about your own experiences with haunted houses, ghosts, and the supernatural in general. So get busy and write. We're interested in anything pertaining to the supernatural, be it ghosts, dreams, ESP, or premonitions. If you have never experienced anything out of the ordinary, but are interested in such things, we'd still like to hear from you.

Rosalee Bailey Tipton, Ed.

"THE WOMAN WITH THE TORCH"

Two men were driving along a narrow winding highway on their way home from the coal mining district of eastern Kentucky, where they had gone to pick up a load of coal. It was about two o'clock in the morning, and drizzling rain. The driver took a quick look at his watch, thinking that if nothing unforeseen happened, they would be home in time for breakfast. The men were good friends, as well as brothers-in-law. And their expedition to the mines had become an annual late autumn occurrence. However, this trip was destined to be unforgettable. And it was also to be their last.

As they descended a steep stretch of mountain road, the truck was barely creeping because of the heavy load of coal it carried, and the driver was being especially careful because of the slick condition of the road. Somehow, they reached the bottom of the hill without the truck skidding even once, and rounded a curve slowly, the headlights sweeping the shoulder of the road.

Suddenly, the headlights caught a scene that terrified the men. Something that neither of them were ever to forget. It was something so frightening, the men felt it was not of this world because of its aspect.

"Good Lord, Al!" Bill exclaimed, clutching the dashboard with trembling hands. "What is it?"

Al had seen the figure at the same time Bill had cried out with fear. He instinctively hit the brakes, bringing the truck to a skidding halt on the rain-slickened roadway.

On the bank above the road stood a woman with a stark white face, dressed in a flowing white garment that covered her from chin to foot. It shimmered in the lights of the truck, glossamer in appearance, and didn't appear to be wet although it had been raining all night.

As the truck came to a screeching halt, the men stared at the woman through the windshield, which was quite clear. They got a good look at her. The night was dark, but the woman seemed to be glowing with a light of her own. They could see every detail of the scene before them in a brilliantly spreading light.

In her left hand, she carried a flaming torch...and with her right she led a small white lamb fastened to a leash.

The woman now turned to look at them, and her eyes struck terror in their very being...for they were glowing like fire in her white face. She lifted the torch and pointed it at them. Well, they tarried no longer. Al rammed the truck into gear, and shoved the gas pedal to the floor. The heavily loaded vehicle lumbered out of sight around the curve.

It was several minutes before the men said a word.

Later, when they stopped at a roadside diner for coffee, they stared across the table at each other's ashen faces. Had they seen the same thing? Was it real? If so, then what was it? And what did it mean? The woman had certainly looked real enough. If she had been real, then what was she doing out on a night like that, dressed in a wispy piece of guase? And leading a lamb? And her eyes! Remembering the look she had given them made the men shiver!

When they compared notes, they realized they had seen the same thing...and that meant it had been real. It didn't explain what it was; only that it had been there for them to see.

A sad side to the story was that Bill suffered a stroke not long after that night, and died shortly thereafter. It had been his last trip. Did the thing they had seen have any bearing on what happened to Bill? They never knew.

Name with-held by request

https://ed5015.tripod.com/

https://investigatormagazine.net

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