I topped up the tulip glass- close to the last glass- of the remaining bottle of Willow Happy Hour White and walked back to the scene of the séance. I was dialed in, and a pleasant soprano voice came on the line: Karen Anderson, Evidentiary Medium. In my mind I had an image of how […]

(Former Deputy Sheriff, award-winning author and evidential medium Karen Anderson). After yesterday’s outing- the independent account of strange happenings in the Ford Island Dispensary- I am going to reiterate the obvious: There is stuff out here in the world that I do not either understand, or for which I have no plausible explanation. The Macaroon […]

(Crater left by the detonation of a Japanese aerial bomb in the Ford Island Dispensary in December, 1941. You are looking out the front door to the company street that leads to the hangars and the headquarters to the left, and the barracks to the right. The Bunk Room is above and to the left […]

OK- you are just going to have to bear with me on this one. It requires a bit of a deft touch, since there are two clear paths by which I might spin this memory. I could be my usual snarky self and play it for laughs, mocking a profession of seers and mystics that […]

Remember those words? The phrase was introduced in Marshall McLuhan’s book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, published in the dim and distant days of 1964. I was a young teen at the time, basking in the bourgeoisie pleasures of suburban Detroit. We had some problems at the time- perhaps you have heard of them? […]

I called Old Jim on the cell this afternoon. I had not talked to him for a week or so, and wanted to check in once I realized that it was his birthday. Heather and I were talking about it at The Front Page last night. Jon-without-an-H was on her other side, marking the four-month […]

(Tinker Belle and her distinctive ink behind the bar at Willow). Tinker Belle was serving the drinks behind the Willow’s long bar when I came in off the street. Admiral Mac Showers had already arrived, and I brightened when I saw that he was permitting himself an Anchor Steam beer, which meant that his session […]

(Panoramic View of the Naval War College campus at Newport, Rhode Island). Willow was quiet that afternoon. It was a bit early for Old Jim to limp down the block for happy hour, and Mac Showers and I had were the only customers inside. A couple tables were full out on the patio, but the […]

Willow was just starting to take on the energy of the post-work Happy Hour Crowd. Liz-with-an-S was behind the bar, and working some of the questions for admission to the Virginia Bar. She is already admitted to New York and New Jersey- but that wasn’t quite good enough to crash the protective gates of the […]

Peter was behind the bar, which means that this undated interview happened sometime before he either got fired or decamped downtown on his own volition. There is no one who could pour a more infuriating martini- the surface tension alone held the precious liquid in the glass, making it almost impossible to take the first […]