Real Zombies, the Living Dead, and Creatures of the Apocalypse. Brad Steiger

the table, Swope did not particularly relish his days on the job. It was enough to enable one to believe easily in zombies and restless spirits.

      Here is another story from the Paranormal Pastor, Robin Swope:

      I was a gravedigger. A lot of people get much pride by having a jacket or shirt that display those words upon it with casual recklessness, but I was never too proud of the occupation.

      It was a very dirty and disturbing occupation. With every worm that I smashed into the ground with our dirt tamping machine I could not but think of the human flesh we sent to the grave below. The worms were pink mutilated flesh smashed into ground by no will of their own, such as we will all be. When you are in such a disturbing occupation you have no one to turn to but your coworkers to relay you stories of the strange and unusual.

      Perhaps you do so to find sanctuary, to help you cope, to help you think you are not going insane. Needless to say I was told quite a few stories.

      For some reason the most startling stories center in the location of Mausoleums.

      The graveyard where I was employed for six years was in Erie County Pennsylvania. It has a large Mausoleum in its 80 acre confines. It is distinctive because it is the only Protestant Mausoleum in all of Erie County. Many well to do Protestant families are buried there in the simple T-shaped building.

      In the late 90s one of the gravediggers was placing a body into one of the crypts. To do this you need a casket elevator—a simple device that raises the casket to the crypt level so the coffin can be slid into its niche. Since many crypts are at high levels, the device is an essential tool for any Mausoleum.

      In this instance, the superintendent and his helper were on the fourth level, about 30 feet off the ground, putting an elderly woman into a double crypt. One side contained the remains of her husband who had died long ago. The funeral service itself was held inside the mausoleum since it also doubles as a chapel. When the crowd left, the funeral director helped place the coffin on the elevator and then left.

      The men placed the elevator in position and raised the casket up. It was then that they noticed that they were not alone. It seemed as though someone had lingered to watch the burial interment itself take place. It was an old man in an old suit standing in the middle of the mausoleum. He stared at them intently.

      Now this in and of itself was not an unusual happening. Many times the family of the deceased will linger after the service to see their loved one laid into their final resting place.

      But they had not noticed the old man before when only the funeral director was in the building. They decided to ignore his presence and proceeded with the entombment.

      They placed the casket into the crypt and put the cement front piece onto it and finally sealed it with caulking. As they lowered the elevator to raise the granite facing for the tomb they noticed that the old man nodded at them. The supervisor waved back and nodded in response.

      Then the old man faded into nothing.

      He simply disappeared into the wall behind him.

      The supervisor and the helper stood there frozen in fear as the elevator came to a screeching halt. The helper asked his boss what exactly they had just beheld.

      The boss had no idea. After a quick look around the building, they still had no explanation.

       The men placed the elevator in position and raised the casket up. It was then that they noticed that they were not alone.

      So they went back to work. Each taking one end, they placed the heavy granite crypt front onto the elevator and raised it to the open hole that held the dead couple. They set it in place, and as they closed it they had the fright of their life.

      The crypt plate had pictures of the husband and wife on either side where they were entombed. The husband’s and wife’s pictures were taken years ago when they had first purchased the crypt. The woman they had just buried looked much younger than the body they had seen at the service. But the husband looked very familiar. It was the man who had been watching them. There was no mistaking it. He was even in the same suit.

      It seems that the spirit of the husband wanted to bear witness to their final unity for eternity.

      Not all the stories that were related to me by various gravediggers were so touching or heartwarming.

      Some were right out of horror movies.

      Such as the Mummy with the gray-green fungus.

      OUT OF AFRICA

      In September 2001, someone made a ghastly discovery in the River Thames, London, England. Floating in the water was the mutilated torso of a small black boy. His head, arms, and legs had been viciously hacked off.

      Investigators of the grisly crime had nothing to work with in their attempt to reveal the young victim’s identity. An autopsy yielded little additional information except for an estimate of his age to be around four to seven years.

      The detectives were shocked by the crime and maddened that they had no face, fingerprints, or dental records to assist them in their investigation.

      Enough of the boy’s neck remained to permit a forensic expert to conclude that his throat had been cut and that the body had been deliberately drained of blood.

      Scotland Yard called in additional forensic experts from various universities to assist them by using the latest scientific methods to examine the boy’s bones, stomach, and intestines for any clues at all.

      Ken Pye, a forensic geologist at the University of London, found traces in the victim’s bones of strontium, copper, and lead that were two and a half times greater than would be normally expected of a child living in Britain. Pye’s meticulous research revealed that the boy had recently arrived from West Africa.

      The forensic team, working on the contents of the boy’s stomach and intestines, discovered unidentifiable plant material, not at all native to England. In addition, the team attempted to analyze a strange mixture of sandlike material, clay pellets, and flecks of gold. Plant anatomists identified the strange plant material as coming from the calabar bean, a highly toxic vine that could be found in West Africa.

      Writer James Owen said that Wade Davis, an anthropologist with the National Geographic Society, immediately noted the use of the calabar bean as a plant that was often used in West Africa to create a variety of poisons, many of which result in total paralysis and a very painful death.

      A U.K.-based expert on African religions and Voodoo, Richard Hoskins, commented that the calabar bean, in combination with other ingredients in the boy’s stomach and intestines, indicated the West African country of Nigeria. Witch doctors commonly used such potions for black magic.

      After an exchange of data, the investigators and the forensic experts agreed that the boy had been smuggled into the country for the sole purpose of serving as a human sacrifice.

      While Hoskins said that human sacrifices are not common occurrences in contemporary celebrations of Voodoo or Black Magic rites, they still do take place. Animal and fowl sacrifices are regularly practiced, but the ceremonial sacrificial killing of a human is considered a vital element in the most empowering of magical rituals. Special police teams in Southern Africa have estimated that there may be as many as 100 human sacrifices a year—and the most powerful magic of all is created when a child is placed on the altar.

      In many parts of Africa, certain witch doctors practice a traditional form of medicine called muti. The more unscrupulous of these witch doctors use body parts of children to increase their powers.

      According to James Owen, Ken Pye and his forensic team were finally able to trace the murdered black boy’s bones to locate his birthplace at a region near Benin City in southwestern Nigeria. According to many authorities, vodun began 350 years ago in Benin. In 1996, vodun, or Voodoo, won state recognition. January 10 was inaugurated as National Voodoo