The NBC University of the Air, a public service of the national broadcasting company, and its independent affiliated stations, presents another chapter in the historical series, We Came This Way. Listen at the close of this program for details about the booklet NBC has prepared to supplement and aid in your enjoyment of this program. And now we present the story of Joseph Mazzini, another step toward liberalism. We Came This Way. A glass shaken off the yoke of their oppressors. All people gathered in the sleep to cheer its leaders, to pay homage to the saviors of Italy, to the men who have given her people union and freedom. They say Victor Emmanuel himself is in the procession. So I heard. And of course Garibaldi and Cabal. I tell you friend, this is a great day for Italy. Careful, careful. Make room for this old man, and let him through. Oh, sorry, senior. There. Can you see the street now? Yes. Thank you, my son. Yes, I can see now. Who is that old man in the long black gown? He looks familiar, does he not? I have seen him somewhere.  Huh, he seems faint. Are you all right, senior? You must be careful. You might get hurt in the crowd. No, my son. I can't be hurt now. Senior, why are you here? Oh, forgive me, but this celebration isn't for such as you. This is for the new Italy. No, son. This celebration isn't for me. Perhaps you're right, I shouldn't have come. What have I to do with the new Italy? What has the new Italy to do with me? Yes, a forgotten man stood on the outskirts of the crowd that day in Naples. The cheers of hope and triumph ringing in his ears. And those about him, though they were kind, though his appearance stirred some cord of memory, knew him not. But what about that remark, that too easy, too glib remark, that the new Italy was no part of him? Let us look back. Let us turn back the calendar forty years in the life of this man to the time of his youth, to a certain day in Genoa when a chance meeting determined the course of the young Matini's life. He sits in a small café with a fellow student. What's that white cloth you carry, soldier? For the patriot of Italy, senior. For the carbonari. We need funds, ammunition. Our ranks are broken, senior Matini. But why do you fight, soldier? Under whose command? For what cause? We fight for freedom for Italians. We fight the enemies of freedom. You mean Austria? All of our oppressors, sir. We fight to drive Austria from the north and France from the south. But how about the independent rulers in Tuscany, Modena, Parma? All are to be overthrown. We will unite the provinces and form one country where free men shall rule themselves, as they do in America.  Are there many who fight for freedom? In every province, senior. In every hidden room, her arms are stored. In every basement where secret meetings are held, men are working for Italy's liberation. And we shall never stop fighting for Italy. Matini's next letter to his mother brought her news of the encounter. Something in the soldier's grasp. Something in the lingering cadence of the word Italia smoked me. A sense of the wrongs of Italy. A feeling that to struggle against these wrongs was a duty. A presentiment that in that struggle, I must play my part. All these flashed upon me. The remembrance of these refugees pursued me wherever I went by day and mingled with my greens by night. I could have given one enough what to follow them. I began collecting names and facts and studied as best I could the records of a heroic struggle. I started the work, which I know now I must finish. And so, I now find myself here in this town. 9-2. You are 4-9-2, are you not? Yes, senor. I am 4-9-2. Comatini? I represent the Polizia dei Savona. I bring official orders for... Then tell me, senor, why am I a prisoner here at Savona? What is the charge? The charge, senor Mazzini. Surely you know what your crime has been. Sedition. Parting to overthrow the monarchy. Membership in the secret society known as Carbonari. You call it a crime to fight injustice? A wish to help one's people? But, senor Mazzini, I bring you... You may imprison us. You may drive us underground, but still we will fight for freedom and for Italy. But, senor, I have here orders to grant you your freedom. Freedom? You mean I'm to be released? And one condition. Yes? That you give up this agitation, that you forswear your allegiance to the Carbonari and all revolutionary groups. And if I refuse? Exile. You will leave the country. Leave? Leave Italy? Yes, senor Mazzini. Well, thank you, senor. I have made my decision. I shall do the only possible thing. And you, Cuse? Exile. Vanished from his homeland, the young Mazzini crossed the border to France, ever the haven of the refugees. Here in the city of Marseille were his friends and fellow workers. And here in the city of Marseille was Judita Sadovko, the beautiful Italian girl who somehow seemed to understand the dream in one's heart. It's a lovely name, Giuseppe. Young Italy. It came to me in the prison at Savona, Judita, the hope of organizing the youth of Italy. But I believe it's only the young who dream of a better world. Only the young who dare fight for it. See, here I have all the plans. That would be all at least. It's a beautiful map. Even the kinds of alienation. How? Well, there was plenty of time to work in prison, Judita. Oh, my poor Giuseppe, but that's all over, my dearest. You're much too thin. I'm going to make big, rich puddings for you. Judita. Here, let me put this woolen scarf around you again. There. How many times must I tell you? Judita, I didn't know it then. But there was one thing I needed more than anything else. One thing I needed to give me strength to carry on the fight. And that was? You, Judita. Giuseppe. I love you, Judita. I need you beside me always. If you are there, nothing can hurt us. With your hand to guide me, I cannot fail. I'll never leave you, Giuseppe. We'll work together, darling. I can write letters for you and keep your books and carry messages back into Italy where you can't go. My heart is so full, Judita. If I could only tell you. You've brought me light where there was darkness. You've brought me peace where there was pain.  Come now, let's get to work. We'll work for two things, my dearest. For Italy and for us. Bravo, Giuseppe. For Italy and... and for us. Here's a sample of the pamphlet, sir. They're already coming off the press. Good. Let's see. Members, all loyal men and women under 40. Purpose to overthrow the eight monarchies of Italy and create a single united republic out of the Italian people. Excellent. Yes, sir. The heading looks very handsome, sir. In black type, young Italy. And goodness at the last of the sausage cage. How many did we put in, Judita? 250 m of the false bottom of each cage, Giuseppe. Now, the flower bath? Yes. Back down to the flower, Judita. Push the pamphlet. You kind of flower for the people in Rome and Caesar. Perhaps they should name it young Italy. Good day, Monsieur Mazzini. Back again? Yes. It's this signature ring, Monsieur. Ah, we... it is very beautiful. It was my mother's. 1,000 francs, Monsieur? Oh, you're very generous. That is because we too dream of le bâté, Monsieur. We wish to help you. How do you call it? Young Italy? Years of planning, organizing, addressing meetings, smuggling ammunition, and at last the time was ripe. Young Italy was ready to strike the first war uprisings were hatching all over Italy. Leaders had been chosen. Judita, tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow, General Ramarino will lead us on our march to Savoy. Good evening, General Ramarino. Now, Signorina, I am enchanted. I'm always amazed by your beauty. Is everything ready for tomorrow, General? You have gone over the plan of attacks for the city. Do not be concerned, Signorina. Everything is planned. Tomorrow, think of it, Judita. All that we've planned for years will come true. Rebellion throughout Italy. We will take them. By surprise. Well, that is tomorrow. Tonight, Signorina, let me drink to your health, to your beauty. If you please, General, I should likely account in your promise. How have you used the funds in your Mazzini turned over to you? The funds? Why, for supplies, uniforms, ammunition. But you have ammunition. We supplied you from our stores. But you would not understand, Signorina. It is not a woman's business equipping an army. The general has spent all of the money, Judita. The costs were greater than he expected. He's explained to me. You understand, General. We must take Savoy tomorrow. The liberation of all Italy depends on this. We can trust you. But, of course, Signorina. Here, let me fill your glasses. We will drink to Italy, to Savoy. A fine idea. Only thing, Judita. Tomorrow night, we may drink this wine in Italy. An Italy. There you are, Signorina. Mazzini. To Italy. To Savoy. And, Judita. But good, you made the right to step in. To Italy. To Savoy. Beloved country, General Ramarino will lead a high-five. We are now fighting or preparing to fight the holy fight of independence, of freedom, of liberty, of freedom, of freedom. Of freedom, of liberty. Italy. The united Italy in their hearts. Young Italy was on the march. After a mile over the hills, through the valleys and lanes of southern France. It was late in the afternoon, and still they marched. A strange foreboding filled Mazzini's heart. Where were the gates of Savoy? Why had they not been stopped? On and on, as General Ramarino's orders rang out sharply, darkness, and still no counter-effects. Ranked for breaking, men began to tire and fall. What is this? Where are we? We have been tricked, General Ramarino. Ah, Signor Mazzini. You are simple, no? We are back at the gates of Mazzini. You are under arrest, Signor Mazzini. Gundam, here is the prisoner. No, no! In Italy, your puny rebellions have been put down everywhere, Signor. I have kept the authorities informed of your plan. Where is your freedom now, Signor Mazzini? Giuseppe Mazzini is hereby banished from France under pain of death by order of his Majesty Napoleon III. Banished from France, his money gone, his followers captured and scattered, Mazzini fled to England. His years of working, scheming, dreaming had ended in ignominious failure. And yet, in Italian breath everywhere, hearts had stirred with new hope. The seed had been sown. Young Italy was not to die or be suppressed. Encouraged by friends, Thomas Carlisle, Jane Welch, William Wordsworth, and lovers of liberty throughout England, Mazzini kept on working. By 1848, the breath of freedom was again sweeping across Europe. In every country, young patriots were fighting, winning, pushing back the heavy hand of tyranny and oppression. Disguised as a peasant, Mazzini returned to Italy to fight in the northern provinces against Austria. To meet with Giudita in Milan, where even now, from a hotel room, sounds of victory from the streets below could be heard. Listen, Giudita, there it is. The voice of New Italy. Milan is all but ours. In every street, in every house, they fight as we have planned. But young Italy can't do it alone, Giuseppe. The Austrians are too strong. They'll send reinforcements. We have the will, Giudita. And if necessary... Giuseppe, my darling, my darling, be practical. Go to King Charles and list the support of Sardinia. King Charles? Never. But he is a good king, Giuseppe. He too hates Austrians. No, Giudita. Giuseppe, look. Look from the window. The people are falling back. The Austrians, in a day, are breaking through the barricades. Giuseppe, hurry while there's still time. King Charles will send fresh troops. You promise to support them. I cannot. The Austrians are returning. Hurry, sing, or you mustn't be found here. But the city was ours. We had driven them back. Charles is surrendered in the north, sir. It is too late, Giuseppe. Just as I said it would be. He has advocated his throne. The Austrian troops are pouring in. But hurry, Signor Marchini. Hurry, you must leave the country. Come, Giudita. We will leave the country. Without freedom, one's country is only one's prison. Once again, with the fruits of victory in Italy's grasp, with liberation in sight, defeat. Once again for Giuseppe Marchini, exile. Exile but not disgraced. Exile but not oblivion. For now the spirit of liberty has become a living breathing thing in a land of death. New fires sprang up from the ashes of defeat. The new king, Vector Emmanuel, continued the fight his father had forsaken. A young Count de Cavour, his prime minister, raised armies to drive Austria from the north. A fiery youth named Garibaldi fought with a handful of men to drive the French out of Rome and Naples. It was April in England, and April in his heart, the day that Marchini received the glad tidings. Giudita, the dispatches have come. Rome has been declared a republic. Giuseppe. Atlanta. Rome, a republic. And they want me, Giudita. They want me for the new government. To be one of the three governors. I am. Giuseppe, what things you can do in such a position with part of Italy free, you can help to free the rest. A republic throughout Italy, Giudita. But why must it be a republic, Giuseppe? I want no part of monarchy, Giudita. However liberal. Let Cavour and Garibaldi do what they will. I shall not compromise.  You're wanting impossible.  No, I can't see it, Giuseppe, holding out for a republic. But you believe in me, Giudita? I believe in you, Giuseppe. Even when you're wrong. Because I love you. Have you heard? The new Triumvir Mazzini has arrived in Rome. The people are parading in the streets in his honor. The new Triumvir has lifted the tax on grains and salt. We'll have bread again. The Triumvir Mazzini has established a free press. We may print whatever we please. Bad news. Our Roman republic has fallen. The Triumvir Mazzini has been captured by French officials. The Triumvir Mazzini has escaped and fled from Italy. They say there's a sentence of death on his head. The people are morning in the streets in his honor. During his brief term as Triumvir of Rome, Mazzini had instituted a true government of the people. Had established legislative reforms beyond the peasant's wildest dreams, the Republic of Rome was beaten. But beaten as a song is beaten for the echoes of its music sounded throughout Italy, throughout Europe. New forces were released and Cavour and Garibaldi were their expressions. Wirried in spirit, unaware that the tide had now passed him by, Mazzini took refuge in Switzerland there to live down one more defeat to pick up the broken pieces to turn again to Giudita and strength. We can work here in Zurich, Giudita. We'll farm another underground as we did at Mazzini. No, Giudita. It would be of no use. But why, Giudita? We cannot stop now. The time is ripe. Italy is all but ours. The time is ripe. But not for you, Giudita. Giudita. Or Giudita, can't you forget all this? You have given everything to Italy, Giudita. I've waited all these years. And now we could marry and go away. Oh, but later, Giudita, when it's late... It's always been later, Giudita. When Italy no longer needs you. But this is now, Giudita. And believe me, Italy no longer needs you. Giudita, you can say that. You who've always believed in me. I have believed in you, Giudita. Even when everything seemed hopeless and lost. Even when I knew you were blind. Blind, Giudita? You have dreamed only of a republic for Italy, Giudita. I still dream of a republic. But it cannot be. Don't you see, Giuseppe, not in our lifetime. A republic is an ideal. But we must compromise with our ideals. I refuse to compromise. Kavor has compromised. Garibaldi has compromised. They are the new leaders of Italy. You will continue fighting your way. And you'll be beaten again. Beaten. Forgotten. I will go on fighting, Giudita. Rome and Italy is a republic. I must be true to myself, Giudita. I love my country. More than you love me. But you're part of me, Giudita. That's not the point. I can't go on without you. Marry me now and we'll go on fighting together. No, Giuseppe, no. Too late. I have loved you. I still love you. But I give you your choice. You've served Italy well, but you've lost, Giuseppe. Leave Annardo a new leader. Give up this senseless fight. And I will marry you. And if I cannot promise that... You must go on. Alone. I see. I must choose between the woman I love above all earthly things and the country I love above myself. Yes, Giuseppe. Then... Then it must be... Italy, Giudita. I have no other choice. Giuseppe Massini did go on fighting. Alone. For the unification of his people. He never recognized that the boy monarchy is anything but a formal exterior unity. Once again he attempted an uprising in Sardinia. But it was stopped before it started.  Pardon to be granted and said Giuseppe Massini to be offered general amnesty of death sentence now imposed upon him. Amnesty? With the provision that he swear allegiance to the king of Sardinia and renounce all association with movements to establish an Italian republic. Renounce all association to establish an Italian republic. Yes, senor. Your answer, senor Massini? You may tell your leaders and your king that I refuse. But I am unable to accept an offer of oblivion and pardon for having loved Italy above all else. Ten years later a sad white haired man was to stand with jubilant crowds in the streets of Naples and watch the triumphal profession pass him by.  Forgive me, but this celebration isn't for such a you. This is for the new Italy. No, son. This celebration isn't for me. Perhaps you're right. I shouldn't have come. What have I to do with the new Italy? Has the new Italy to do with me? Giuseppe Massini died on his way to Pisa in 1872. Died in a last desperate attempt to establish a republic a people's Italy of which he had dreamed. It has been said that Italian unity was won through the sword of Garibaldi, the statesmanship of Cavour and the spirit of Massini. This was the spirit, this the dream of freedom that lived on through the dark days of fascist rule through the days of Nazi terror. This is the spirit that still moves in the hearts of fighting Italians today. Italians in Housiers still ring the words of Giuseppe Massini. I love freedom. Perhaps I love it better than my own country. Without freedom, one's country is only one's prison. The NBC University of the Air has brought you chapter 19 of the new historical series, We Came This Way. In the days that lie ahead, every American needs to know the facts about our struggle for a democratic way of life. To give you more information that's just dramatized in this series and to suggest further reading for you, NBC has prepared a handbook, especially written for the current series. We shall be very happy to send this interesting book to you on request. Send 25 cents to cover the cost of printing and mailing to We Came This Way, Post Office 30, Station J, New York 27, New York. That's a little complicated, so I'll repeat it again. We Came This Way, Post Office 30, Station J, New York 27, New York. Tonight's program was under the direction of Albert Cruz. Original music was composed by Dr. Roy Shield and conducted by Mr. Joseph Galicchio. In tonight's cast, you heard Mr. Clifton Utley as narrator, Mr. Wilms Herbert as Matzini, Ms. Betty Lou Gerson as Judita, and Mr. Michael Romano as Romarino. Others in the cast were Mr. Sidney Elstrom, Mr. Maurice Copeland, and Mr. Sidney Breeze. Be sure to listen next week at the same time for the story of Carl Scherz on We Came This Way.


Hello there, it's Sandy Alnok, and I'm going to be coloring the last camel, the last one in the picture, because the rest of the card took nine hours, so you don't get the whole thing. And I'm using a Hero Arts stamp set that's called Floral Nativity, and on this one I did remove the floral, I didn't use any of those elements, but I got into a lot of the color blending. You can see the light around the baby Jesus, the light around the city, which I drew, there's no stamp for the city, the light for the sheep is all pointing toward where the baby Jesus is, since that would be the light source in my mind. The light source for the camels, I made it kind of coming from above, so a star or the moon up above, as opposed to them being lit up by the baby Jesus, since they're technically a little further away, and it also meant that I didn't have to fuss with trying to figure out how the light is going to get around Mary to get over to the camels. The camel stamp in the stamp set has what looks to me like Christmas lights hanging around his neck, I don't know where the battery pack would be carried, maybe it's under the humps in the blanket or something, but I thought I would leave the lights on one camel and then remove it from the others by just going over top of it, and I had stamped this on my Stonehenge drawing paper, best color pencil paper in my mind. I had stamped it with no-line ink, which is a very light gray ink, you could also use any ink that you have, like the pads that are running out of ink are great for no-line work, because you can just stamp it a bunch of times so you can just barely see the image, and then you can adjust it, so if you want to make your blanket on the back of the camel a different shape, or like I said you want to take the lights off the camel's neck and make him a more serious camel, you can do that, but I thought it would be kind of funny to have one camel lit up with Christmas lights and everything else in the scene would be very somber and serious, and then when I send this card to mom for Christmas that she would enjoy the little smile she would get out of seeing the camel with lights around his neck, as my mom's birthday is on Christmas, so hopefully she's not watching this video, and I like to send mom a truly Christmas Christmas card and then a birthday card as well, because when somebody has a birthday at Christmas you want to make sure you make them feel special, like they have their own day, even though they're sharing it with Christmas, so this will be her Christmas card, I'll probably send it a little bit early, because my guess is she will put this one out and let it be a decoration in her apartment, and I want to make sure she has that in time to enjoy it, and that sort of thing, if you want to make a card like this, this one is slim line, so it's a long skinny one, it's four by I think eight and a half inches, and you could do that, but I wouldn't recommend doing the whole background unless you got lots and lots of time on your hands, because this did take a very long time, I think it was worth it, because I think it's a beautiful piece of artwork, but for cards, generally most people don't like to spend that much time on one particular card, however, you could make something like this for yourself, and you could frame that and put it in your house, and it would be beautiful as a piece of art that you've made for your own holiday decorations, so there you go. The colors that I've put in the background, this is all done in Polychromos by the way, the colors are all layered, so every area on here has multiple colors for the most part, except maybe the sheep and the little donkey are several grays, but the rest of it is colors layered onto each other, that's what I learned from the teacher that I studied under in college, who is a professional illustrator, and that was her technique, just layering colors, like even that big blue background sky has a blue-green color mixed with a blue violet, so you see the two colors changing and mixing back and forth in that background, but it takes many, many layers and lots of pencil sharpening to get the pencil into all those crevices. When I was in college, I used to use the paper that she had recommended, which is a particular Bristol that is no longer made, was very devastated when that happened, and they just didn't make it anymore, and this Stonehenge paper is as close to that as I think I've ever gotten, so I highly recommend it. It comes in white as well as cream and other very pale colors. They have other Stonehenge papers too. Their watercolor paper isn't so great, but all of their drawing papers are pretty awesome. So at the end, I added a little white highlight to each one of the little light bulbs and some stars to the sky with my white pen, and I sprayed it with a fixative. I don't usually spray my cards because they're cards, but this one, I think my mom's going to hang on to it and she's going to want to get it out every year, so I decided to spray it, and I actually did the heat embossing of the sentiment before spraying it, partially because I wanted to test and see what the spray would do to a embossed sentiment, and it worked just fine, so you could probably do it either way. You could do the spray first or second, but there you go. So there is my amazing over-the-top nine-hour card. I also did some other cards, though, much simpler with this stamp set. If you wanted some ideas on things you could do. The one on the left, I used some flower strands from the set to make sort of a wreath around Mary and Joseph, and I used a white pen to go back in and add some white details into their outfits, because, again, I colored right over them when I colored with my pencils, and so you could also stamp those details back in after doing your coloring. And then I did one that was a very simple one. This was my test to see what colors I wanted to use for the background on the big card, and there you go. That is my video for you for today. I hope this was inspirational.  All the supplies are linked in the doobly-doo, and I'll see you again soon. Bye-bye.


Welcome to Paranormality magazine. Each week, Paranormality magazine explores all 40 subjects from phantoms to UFOs and every cryptid creature in between. Each week, you are treated to a collection of well-researched and investigated stories, interviews and reports on cutting-edge paranormal projects and topics they know you crave. And here in the podcast, I share stories from the magazine to give you just a taste of what you receive in every issue. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Paranormality magazine. Here is a glitch in a Matrix story that a Paranormality magazine reader sent in in December of 2022. Time slip witnessed by a family of four. I've had plenty of time slips in my life. You know, times where the beginning and end are way further apart than the middle can account for? Like a ten-minute walk taking four hours? That sort of thing? I've kept them to myself because, well, I was the only witness and if we're speculating on something supernatural versus me just being crazy, well, I don't like my odds. This is different though. This is multiple witnesses, same story. It was New Year's Eve. My husband, two kids, 13 and 9, and I were staying in a motel. We planned to watch the fireworks from the balcony at midnight because we were in city center and they'd be all around us. But that was hours away. The sun had just set and the sky was a misty purple. I was making dinner, sliders, which at that point were 20 minutes from done. As I was setting up our plates, we started hearing fireworks. I checked my phone for the time. It was a little after 7. The fireworks kept going off in the distance and the kids were getting excited. They went out on the balcony to look and asked me to come out. I kept assuring them they were cool but the real show started at midnight. I started to wonder myself after a while though. The fireworks just kept going, more rapid than I expected for 7 in the evening. I went outside and saw bursts of color exploding all over the sky. I marveled at it. If this was 7, what would midnight look like? Then I checked my phone again. It was 12.15. I couldn't even tell you what I did after that. I was initially disappointed along with the kids and confused along with the kids. But the more we thought about it, the weirder it seemed. We'd all witnessed the sun setting literally an hour earlier. I'd started dinner while it was still light out and it was still hot and just barely ready. I checked the time and did the math for them how long it would be while the sky was still purple and the fireworks just kept going. It went from 7 to midnight in a few minutes. I don't even have a wrap up for this. I don't know what to say. I'd blame it on my phone like the clock being off but that can't explain midnight right after sunset. We're in Utah, not the Arctic Circle. Husband works overnight so he's used to time feeling weird and that's what he chalked it up to. Son took it in stride because he's young and time travel is his jam. Daughter and I are the ones wondering years later WTF happened. She'll bring it up whenever there's a special occasion and I'm cooking like neither of us can trust when something should be done anymore. We both wait on events like we might miss it because we know we already have before. One of the strangest mysteries in the mountains of West Virginia is the tragic story of the Sotter family. Branding Wills from Paranormality magazine asks the question what happened to the Sotter children? On Christmas Eve 1945 a fire broke out at the Sotter family home in Fayetteville around 1.30 am. Five of their nine children disappeared without a trace during all the commotion. The parents, George and Jenny Sotter, were startled in the middle of the night by what they said was the sound of breaking glass. Then they smelled the smoke and fire starting. They rushed downstairs to investigate and found that the fire had begun in the basement and was spreading upward at a rapid speed. The parents managed to rouse their children and get them out of the home but found five missing. George tried to rush back inside but the fire was too intense. The fire department arrived soon after but the house was destroyed. After clearing the scene the bodies of the children were not found. The FBI also investigated but turned up nothing as well. On December 29, 1945 the local paper, the Fayette Tribune published an article about the incident. They quote Sheriff George W. Patterson saying, I believe the children perished in the fire. However the search will continue until all hope is lost. The Sotter family also tried their best and even offered a $5,000 reward for any leads to the children's whereabouts. Posters with their pictures were placed all over town and billboards across the state. Despite all of this no substantial leads were ever found. There were multiple theories about what happened from various investigations. Jenny Sotter said, I know my children are alive somewhere. I will never give up hope of finding them. Throughout the years more leads have come up but were dead ends. In 1967 Jenny Sotter received a letter with a photo of a young man who looked like Louis Sotter, one of their missing children. The letter was postmarked from Kentucky but did not have a return address. On the back of the photo was a message, Louis Sotter, I love brother Frankie. I still hope to hear from my mother, dad, sisters and brothers, I have a family in Centralia, Illinois. The Centralia police department tried to locate anyone by that name but could not. Jenny also attempted to send a letter to the return address but never received anything back. Another witness claimed to have seen a car speed away from the house before the fire began. It was said to be a black sedan and multiple people were seen inside it. Police looked into this but concluded it may have just been a car driving by. The Sotter family also had a dog named Buster who was not home that night. He was found wandering around town and appeared to be very upset. Most of the theories about what happened to the children have either been debunked or lack any substance. The most popular theory is they were kidnapped but nothing concrete has been proven. There is also the possibility they just happened to run away the night of the fire but this doesn't seem likely since it was mid winter then and the parents said they could find no evidence that they had been planning to do so and all their belongings were left behind. It's also not possible they died in the fire because no remains were found and the fire didn't reach the second floor where their bedroom was located. The truth about what may have happened to the Sotter children may never be solved. This story has been featured on numerous TV shows and documentaries over the years yet none have turned up as adults to say I'm alive. In my opinion it's more likely that something nefarious was going on that has yet to be uncovered. What do you think happened to the Sotter children? Number 342. Description. As enigmatic as it is ubiquitously believed in within its native region this vermicular varmint was once described by Mongolian Prime Minister Damsebar thus. It is shaped like a sausage about two feet long has no head nor leg and it and it is so poisonous that merely to touch it means instant death. It lives in the most desolate parts of the Gobedi Desert. According to Mongolian legend the creature travels underground creating waves of sand on the surface which allows it to be detected. It is supposedly capable of killing at a distance either by spraying venom at its prey or by means of electric discharge. Length two to three feet weight beat 80 to 160 pounds color brown red location western and or southern Gobedi Desert. Enestigations. In 1990 and 1992 Ivan Macgerley led small groups of companions into the Gobedi Desert to search for for the worm. Inspired by Frank Herbert's novel Dune in which giant fictional sandworms could be brought to the surface by rhythmic thumping Macgerley constructed a motor driven thumper and even used small explosions to try to find it. In 2005 zoological journalist Richard Freeman of the Center for Forty in Zoology mounted it to an expedition to hunt for the death worm but came up empty-handed. Freeman's conclusion was that the tales of the worms powers had to be apocryphal and that reported sightings likely involved an unknown species of worm lizard or amphispena. A New Zealand television entertainment reporter David Ferrier of TV3 News took part in an expedition in August 2009 but came up empty-handed as well. He conducted interviews with locals claiming to have seen the worm and mentioned on his website that the sightings peaked in the 1950s. Find more creatures of cryptozoology in Paranormality Magazine. Want more Paranormality? Subscribe to Paranormality Magazine and each month get it delivered digitally or via mail in our print version. Paranormality Magazine is a collaborative endeavor featuring works from people like you who have a passion for all things mysterious and unexplained. Our goal is the pursuit of knowledge gathering captivating stories from our own team of writers, researchers and investigators as well as from writers such as yourself. Each monthly issue also includes a list of paranormal, horror, UFO and cryptozoology events around the country. Incredible paranormal-themed artwork, articles and writing sent in from our readers, suggested books and podcasts to consume and more. Visit ParanormalityMag.com and subscribe today for as little as $3.99 a month. That's ParanormalityMag.com Mikayla Ford brings us a personal story from her own past called Zombies in Bradshaw. As a child, I lived in the town of Halifax in the county of West Yorkshire, which is in the north of England and where my story is set. I had a paranormal experience which was pivotal to the start of my interest in all things otherworldly. I guess you could call it my origin story. It goes like this. I must have been about eight years old when we saw them. We were at school, playing out in the playground when it happened. There had always been a rumor about so-called zombies that wandered around the old derelict house in the middle of the field near school. In our minds, however, these monsters were not anything like the traditional idea of zombies, but somewhere nearer to a type of grin reaper or hooded monk. Children in the village would whisper about them walking around in their hooded black cloaks, chasing the cows, and eating them. To be honest, it sounded unlikely to me even then, and I really had no idea what a zombie would look like even if I met one. However, I was small and it was exciting to continue the tradition of scaring each other to death in the playground at school. Bradshaw, our small village in the heart of Yorkshire Dales, was rife with mysterious stories of haunted houses and strange happenings. The hillsides were peppered with old derelict houses and mills crumbling away into the ground, making exciting and dangerous playgrounds for us to explore. We'd dare each other to go into darkened wind-whistling rooms and scare each other with tales of dead babies being found half-eaten by werewolves, all the while brave yet terrified. They're just so happened to be one of these derelict houses within sight of our school field. And on this particular day, the weather was fair. It was winter, I think, but windy, and we were all chasing around in the playground as usual. Suddenly, one child shouting out above the rest, Zombie! Zombie! I can see a zombie! A huge group of us raced over to where the kid was pointing. There! There it is! Oh, there are three of them! She squealed excitedly. We all followed her eagerly pointing finger across the school field over the next and into a long field which sloped gradually upwards toward the hill where the haunted house was. As I looked, I blinked in disbelief. There, in the middle of the long field, were three black figures and long cloaks moving slowly behind a herd of cows. The figures were dressed like reapers, each holding a long wooden staff, their faces hidden from view under their long dark hoods. The cows did not seem to be afraid but wandered unconcerned up the hill as the zombies herded them slowly in the direction of the house. Myself and the other children were going crazy, jumping, shrieking and pointing at the figures. The midday meals supervisors looked very confused and worried as they tried to contain the hysterical mob. The one thing that really stuck in my mind was that the adults could not see the figures. I do remember asking if I could go over to the other side of the school field to get a better look. I was sharply told no and, as I was an obedient child, did as I was told. However, I longed to get closer, to see properly what these creatures were and what their faces looked like. Soon we were all hastily ushered inside as we were so overexcited and break time was ended early. I reluctantly walked towards my classroom, keeping my eye on the figures all the way back until I got inside. I was desperate to carry on watching the zombies from the window, but unfortunately we couldn't see into the field properly from the classroom, and as I pressed my nose against the glass, straining to see around corners, I knew I would never forget this day for the rest of my life. I didn't understand what we had seen, but surely twenty children couldn't be wrong. As I grew up, the events of that day were put firmly to the back of my mind, and it wasn't until I was in my mid-twenties that the memory of the zombies would return to haunt me. One Sunday my friend Dee and I were walking back from my house when she suggested we go to have a cup of tea with her friend Alice. Dee told me that Alice's dad owned the village farm shop. We trooped up the hill to the farm, and Dee led us through the farmyard to two small apartments built next to each other at the edge of the long field next to the school where I had attended. Alice's dad had built them for her and her brother so that they could have their own space when they were teenagers. Alice answered the door immediately and led us into the small apartment. While she made us a cup of tea, I rifled through her book collection and spotted the book Maraboo Stork Nightmares, which I'd always wanted to read. Alice kindly said that I could borrow her copy. As we stood in her kitchen, chatting, we gazed out onto the field, talking about nightmares, ghosts, and such like. Alice told us that she believed in ghosts and how her dad had always encouraged her to trust her instincts, not stifling her imagination as a child. Looking out of the window, I realized that Alice's flat was built right at the top end of the field, which had played out such a disturbing scene in front of me all those years ago. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I told Alice about the so-called group hallucination my friends and I had in the school playground, describing the figures with their black hooded cloaks and wooden staffs, herding the cows to their death. Without a flinch, Alice looked at me straight in the eye and said, Oh yes, I see them all the time. Talk about a moment where your blood runs cold. I've never forgotten that moment. It's etched on my memory forever. Having since done further research on the hooded figures, I believe that what I saw are the Genai Kukulati, which are said to be guardians of the land, fertility, and children. They were worshiped by common folk in Celtic Britain and France. The reason they are said to wear the hoods is to shroud themselves from the eyes of those who do not possess the knowledge to truly understand their ritual power. Who knows? Maybe I'll be lucky enough to see them again one day. I'd like that. Nick Balanswale brings us a few nautical nightmares of Northern California. A bucket list item for all visitors to California is to drive along the scenic coastline and marvel at these spectacular views. The drive is one I encourage all to experience. Being a native of Northern California, I've driven the coastline up here multiple times and something is always stuck out to me. It is riddled with some spooky places. Let's take a drive starting from the northernmost corner of the state down to the edge where SoCal begins to take over. These are the nautical nightmares of Northern California. The Battery Point Lighthouse The Battery Point Lighthouse was commissioned on December 10, 1856. It's one of the largest serving lighthouses in all of California. An eerie element to the lighthouse is the road that leads to the lighthouse can only be accessed via a road that only exists at low tide. When the tide is high, the lighthouse becomes an island, isolated and alone from the town of Crescent City. The lighthouse survived a catastrophic tsunami that occurred in 1964 that destroyed much of the town. This disruption has influenced some to believe that the lost souls of the tsunami find their way to the lighthouse. Like a beacon calling out to the dead, paranormal investigators who spent time at the lighthouse attest to the hauntings. Pay the Battery Point Lighthouse a visit. Just make sure you can get back before high tide. The Delta King The Delta King Riverboat Hotel in Sacramento, California takes guests back to another time and so do the ghosts. The riverboat was used in World War II by the Navy and shuttled passengers from San Francisco to Sacramento prior to that, yet it was left for scraps. Luckily in 1984 it was restored and turned into a hotel, restaurant and theater. However, it seems the ship has kept a few permanent passengers over the years. There are claims that the ship is still haunted by its original captain who frequents the theater. A ghostly girl bouncing a ball is seen on the deck of the ship. Her giggling can sometimes be heard. Even some poltergeist activity is reported on the boat with glasses and objects falling over or being flung about. The Golden Gate Bridge The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco is certainly an area of high strangeness. In 1853 the SS Tennessee sank due to the nefarious Golden Gate current. Decades later in 1942, members of the USS Kinnison saw this same ship sail past them near the bridge in full flying Dutchman form. The Golden Gate Bridge is also one of the only hotspots for UFO sightings in the city according to the National UFO Reporting Center. There have even been a few recent reports of a sea monster near the bridge which locals have dubbed sassy. Hauntings, UFOs, and cryptids all seem to love the Golden Gate Bridge just as much as the rest of us. The Moss Beach Distillery Built in 1927, the Moss Beach Distillery was originally called Frank's Place named after Portuguese immigrant Frank Torres. The location soon took off as a speakeasy. Its secluded location and foggy setting was perfect for smuggling alcohol and rejoicing in revelry. Frank's establishment was a wild good time which certainly led to some wild moments. Now these moments may still have an imprint on the restaurant to this day. It all started with passionate matters of the heart. Legend has it that a young married woman who fancied herself in a blue dress fell in love with a dashing piano man who could tickle the ivories with the best of them. They carried out a passionate love affair only to have it end in death and mayhem. When the husband found out, he confronted his wife and the piano man. The incident ended in the woman dying via the altercation. Some versions have the piano man dying as well. Others have him escaping. Some versions skip this whole incident altogether and the woman died in a car accident going to see her beloved piano man. And yet, one more version has the piano man two-timing the married woman and involves a second woman throwing herself off the cliff's edge at Frank's place after finding out about all the seaside passion that was going on. One thing that is certain is, after all of this, a ghostly woman who fancied herself in a blue dress started appearing at Frank's place, which is now the Moss Beach Distillery. And the legendary haunt of the Blue Lady began. The Blue Lady has been spotted at the bar causing a raucous with mischievous like behavior. Her spirit has been reported by the staff and the patrons of the restaurant for decades. She has always been known to be friendly, but she still puts a scare in those fearful of the beyond. Pay a visit to the Moss Beach Distillery for spirits, views, and the spirits. Tor House One of the most scenic, picturesque, and beautiful homes in all of California may still be home to the spirit of the famous poet who built it. Robinson Jeffers, a noted poet of the early 20th century, famous for his epic forum poetry, built himself a home that tells a narrative all its own. Jeffers built Tor House, termed for the geological formation of a rock outcrop. Tor House rises along the Carmel by the Sea coastline like a castle constructed by Mother Nature. Complimenting the property is Hawk Tower, where it is said that Jeffers' wife, Una, would hold seances at the top of the tower. Not a far-fetched idea considering spiritualism was a popular belief during the heyday of Robinson and Una. In Jeffers' poem, Ghost, he spoke of coming back to his home 50 years after his death as a spirit. Many docents and staff at Tor House still feel the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Jeffers. The upstairs docents office is said to be a hotspot for phantom activity. Robinson has been seen peering out the window of the main house. Robinson also kept an actual human skull in this part of the home that is still there to this day. Could these physical remains be a source of paranormal activity? Una is also seen off in roaming Hawk Tower where she would often spend much of her time. Carmel by the sea is one of California's most breathtaking towns. Be sure to make it a stop during your visit to California and certainly visit Tor House to step foot in the life of a literary great and a majestically mystical place he and his family may still call home. And then there is the Dark Watchers. The Dark Watchers are shadowy humanoid figures that have been seen in the Santa Lucia Mountain Range of Central California for hundreds of years. They usually appear at dusk or dawn, silhouetting against the merging night sky. Noted literary greats and pottery county residents, Robinson Jeffers and John Steinbeck both wrote of the Dark Watchers. In Jeffers' poem, Such Councils You Gave to Me, he described the Dark Watchers as forms that look human but certainly are not human. Steinbeck mentioned the Watchers in his short story Flight and his son Thomas wrote a book on the mysterious figures called In Search of the Dark Watchers. Explanations for the Watchers range from mountain specter illusions to ultra-terrestrial beings. No one is quite sure where they come from or why they are here. Now a part of the storied folklore of Monterey County and much of the California coastline, the Dark Watchers remain shadowy guardians of the Santa Lucia Mountain Range. Whether these shadowy figures are ghostly, interdimensional, ultra-terrestrial or broken specter illusions, they will remain an ominous mystery. We made it to our destination safely, but we may have picked up a few phantom hitchhikers along the way. Thanks for listening to Paranormality Magazine. Get more information about the magazine and subscribe to our monthly publication at ParanormalityMag.com or click the link in the show description.  We might feature you in our next issue. If you have a paranormal podcast, you can add it to our website so our readers can find your show. And artists, if you would like your work to be featured in our magazine or on our back cover, contact us. Again, our website is ParanormalityMag.com. I'm Darren Marlar and I'll have more paranormal for you next time from Paranormality Magazine.