There's a theory that the world would be a much better place if everyone was required to work a crappy job at least once, for a period of six months.
Such as...
Craptastic employment tends to create an upswing in empathy for others in similar situations to yours. And I think we can all agree that the world could use an increase in basic human understanding.
Like
NOT BEING A CHEAP-ASS WHEN TIPPING YOUR SERVER
for example.
Most people I know have dealt with some pretty unpleasant scenarios, all in the name of a paycheck.
I'm told that it builds character, whatever that is. Although I've got a sneaking suspicion that "building character" is just a pleasant euphemism for going through a miserable situation.
And if you can make it out of your tunnel of despair without having a complete meltdown you get exactly one character built.
To be cashed in upon retirement.
Maybe.
Like most of us, I've dealt with some things and seen some stuff while on the clock. Not really sure how that translates into "character" points, but I've definitely gained perspective. Which, incidentally, has done wonders for controlling my blood pressure.
"'I' BEFORE 'E', DAMMIT!
Keith, why must you torment me?!" - Pre-2011 Me
One day I was just like, huh, you mean I don't have to rain fire and damnation down upon all those who would dare inconvenience me?
Hulk no understand.
And for me, personally, there is nothing that so quickly puts things in perspective like the crap we deal with at work. For example:
"It's 2AM. There's still time to make one more bad decision."
During college I worked the third shift at a 24 hour diner.
"An eclectic eatery"
We wore tie-dyed shirts, had a vaguely stoned smiley face as a mascot, and lit goat cheese on fire.
Opa, bitches!
And around 2:05AM, we wrangled drunks.
Yup. Just like that.
But with tie-dye.
Of course there were late night fights, the occasional marriage proposal, and the always popular, Ralph.
As if you couldn't guess.
Like the guy who ralphed into his water glass.
Is that Corona on the bottom?
Of course, such a slim container was not spacious enough to handle his technicolor yawn, so yours truly sprinted to grab a bucket.
And by the way...
Dear Guy who yaked into his beverage cup,
As you continue your journey through life, I hope you found better friends than the group you were with in the spring of 2006. None of whom offered to assist as you revisited your victuals.
There were looks of disgust and horror, but none held your hair, rubbed your back, or spoke words of comfort into your alcohol addled ears.
Although I think the dude on the left took your hurling as his chance to cop a feel on the cute blonde.
This is actually pretty accurate.
Nope, instead the third shift waitress, smelling of cheese and stale cigarette smoke, held back your greasy long hair while you expunged the contents of your stomach into a grimy old bucket.
In the middle of the dining room.
And you weren't even in my section.
You're welcome.
Lesson learned: Real friends keep your hair out of puke.
Perspective gained: I've got real friends.
"Yes! Oh, oh, wow. Wait. Is this for real? What about negotiations? I was told there would be negotiations?! WHAT AM I MISSING?!?!"
"Um, no. You're good. They were about to go into foreclosure, so the sellers bank just decided to go with your offer."
(dead silence)
"You close in five weeks."
.....
"You'll be a homeowner by the end of the year!"
.....
"...Hello?"
"This...there's something wrong... this is too easy."
And for a brief period of time, I came close to vomiting up the thirty two ounces of coffee and spoonful of peanut butter that had been my breakfast.
Emotions have gone from disbelief to excitement to terror. I went back to excitement briefly, but now I'm smack dab in the middle of being completely petrified.
I mean, these are realadults, and realbusinesses that I'm dealing with here. And they're all trusting me to not screw everything up.
I may need to lie down.
It's one thing to fantasize about your dream house. Casually waving your hand and being all like, "Yeah, I'll just tear down this wall and add a skylight. That second room could totally double as a non-regulation bowling alley."
But now, oh man, now things are actually happening!
Human oddities: my favorite kind of social interest piece.
And no, I'm not talking about the lame modern sideshow wannabes.
Tattooed men, surgically enhanced women, and sword swallowers?
Yawn.
That's a lifestyle choice.
It's those that were born different, yet through their own resilience, were able to make a life for themselves, who are truly amazing.
Whether you condemn or condone human oddities and sideshows, those who performed in them have and will continue to be remembered long after you and I are gone.
That said, here's a few of my favorite Very Special People:
Johnny Eck
Johnny Eck was a fraternal twin. His brother, Robert, was born "normal", but Johnny was destined for a more unique life.
Let's zoom out a little...
Billed as the "Amazing Half-Boy", Johnny was born with sacral agenesis, a rare condition that involved abnormal development of the lower spine.
At the age of 12 he signed on with magician John McAslan, doing sleight of hand tricks and acrobatics. Later going on to perform with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey.
I can't even do a regular handstand, so this is like, magic, or something.
He also lent extra flair to the old "sawing a person in half" routine. His brother Robert acted as an audience plant and went up on stage, but switched places with Johnny and a dwarf who played the bottom half. Once "sawed in half" Johnny would chase his "legs" around on stage.
People freaked right out.
Fun fact: Johnny also played a reoccurring bird character in the 1930 Tarzan films. Due to his physique, Johnny was probably the only person at that time who could play the role.
Ah, 1930's movie magic.
Johnny Eck eventually passed away at the age of 79 in the same town he was born, Baltimore Maryland.
Chillin with a chihuahua before it was mainstream.
God bless you sir, and your amazing hand stands.
James Coffey
Also called "John"...
Not to be confused with The Green Mile's John Coffey.
...Coffey wasn't the first person to perform as a Living Skeleton, but he was probably the best.
Opting to wear stylish three piece suits with vertical stripes, Coffey added a certain elegance that had been absent in similar skeleton acts until then. Taking on a playboy persona, he made it a habit to flirt with the females in the audience, yet joked that "most ladies don't like their Coffey thin."
I also like to think that he was the inspiration for Tim Burton's Jack Skellington.
The similarities are eerie.
Originally, Coffey worked as a barber in Ohio. He appeared normal until the age of 29, when he inexplicably began to wither away. Eventually bottoming out at a meager 70lbs.
I bet he plays a sweet xylophone.
As a publicity stunt, since his persona was that of a dapper flirt, Coffey fell in love with and married ossified girl, Emma Scholler.
Twenty-two times.
In every town their act traveled to.
But in actuality, he wed one, Mary Curtright, in the late 1890's with whom he had a normal child
In 1905 he retired to Burlington, New Jersey where he faded into obscurity.
Captain Martin Van Buren Bates and Anna Swan
What a lovely wedding photo.
Doesn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary here....
Wait a tic...
The tallest couple ever recorded, Captain Bates measured 7' 9" and weighed 470lbs, while his bride, Anna, was recorded as 7' 6" tall and 390lbs. (Maybe she's wearing heels?)
Unlike other acts, Captain Bates actually earned his military title. He served the Confederate Army during the Civil War, earning the incredibly original nickname, the Kentucky Giant. You know, because he was a giant... from Kentucky.
After the war ended he traveled to Cincinnati, Ohio and joined a traveling circus as their resident giant. While on tour in Halifax, Nova Scotia he met Anna, a daughter of Scottish immigrants.
Unlike many other circus romances, concocted by promoters to gain publicity, their courtship was the real thing. Eventually they married in London England. Queen Victoria provided the wedding gown and gifted a pair of diamond studded gold watches.
"No big, I'll supply the bling."
The couple later settled down on a massive farm in Seville, Ohio. Which, to this day, has a "Giant Fest" in September.
And yes, they totally have a horseshoe tournament.
Myrtle Corbin
Billed as the "Four-Legged Woman from Tennessee", Myrtle was born with dipygus. An extremely rare condition where the body splits at the torso, forming duplicate limbs, pelvis, and organs.
In layman's terms, Myrtle had a twin sister from the waist down.
And she had a club foot.
All those limbs and only one is fully functional...
An extremely popular performer, she worked for the Ringling Brothers and P.T Barnum, earning over $400 a week.
Show of hands; how many of you make about that much now?
Well then.
At the age of 19, Myrtle married doctor Clinton Bicknell and had five healthy children.
Although her duplicate legs were too small and weak to be functional, Myrtle did have two fully functional sets of reproductive organs.
This led to a rumor that Myrtle had three children from one set of organs and two from the other. It's possible that the story was concocted by show promoters, hoping to use the shock value to increase ticket sales. Although whether or not it happened, it was medically possible.
Myrtle eventually died in Texas at the age of 60, surrounded by family and friends.
Prince Randian
Okay, this guy is just way too cool. He's from exotic coastal South America. Speaks Hindi, English, French, and German. A family man with five kids, who worked in showbiz for 45 years.
At Coney Island.
And this is pretty neat too:
Prince Randian passed away in New Jersey following a final performance at the age of 63. Presumably still being awesome.
Daisy and Violet Hilton
Daisy and Violet were born conjoined twins in 1908 to Kate Skinner, a single barmaid in Brighton, England.
Fused at the pelvis, the girls shared only bone and blood circulation, but no organs.
Yet they further cement my belief that Tim Burton gets much of his inspiration from sideshow attractions.
Their story, however, is a tragic one.
Outright exploitation was not very common on the sideshow and vaudeville circuits. However, Daisy and Violet would prove to be the sad exceptions.
They were purchased as infants by their mother's boss, Mary Hilton. She recognized profit potential in the girls, and began teaching them to perform. Singing, dancing, and playing instruments at a young age.
The sisters began touring at the age of three. They were hugely successful, netting large profits for Mary Hilton, her husband Henry, and her daughter, Edith. During this time the twins were mistreated and abused, both physically and emotionally, seen as being only possessions by the Hiltons.
When Mary Hilton died in Alabama, guardianship of the girls was passed to Henry and Edith, who continued their strict control over Daisy and Violet.
When the girls turned 21, they finally managed to break free from the Hiltons. Suing for access to their earnings and ability to operate independently.
Livin' the good life
They began touring with their own show, "The Hilton Sister's Revue". But now that they had control, when previously they had been strictly controlled themselves, the twins began to self-destruct.
Financial issues and legal problems plagued the girls and their popularity waned.
At the age of 54, Daisy and Violet they made their last public appearance at a drive-in movie theater in Charlotte, North Carolina. It was there that their tour manager abandoned them.
Desperate, the twins found work at a nearby grocery store.
They would remain in North Carolina for the rest of their lives. Residing quietly in a small town outside of Charlotte, weighing groceries.
In January of 1969, Daisy and Violet passed away in their home at the age of 61.
Yes, I want all of that.
Plus Rob Zombie's greatest hits.
So, I start googling up haunted houses in Savannah.
Except instead of being directed to gory attractions where teenagers and college students jump out of the dark with fake chainsaws and hockey masks, I'm greeted with a list of bed and breakfasts, restaurants, museums, and old theaters.
Huh.
Interestingly enough, Savannah has consistently made all the "Most Haunted Cities in America" top ten lists since, like, ever. Often placed in the #1 spot. Seriously.
Don't believe me? Google it. I'll wait.
Still waiting...
Granted, most of the reported hauntings aren't so much Amity Horror as they are things that go bump in the night.
Still, seeing apparitions and witnessing doors creak open by themselves are not exactly how I'd like to end my day at the local B&B.
Fake scares I can handle, real ones tend to degrade me into a quivering puddle of goo.
Check out the creepy tunnel of death, you say?
Sorry, no. I'm too busy crapping my pants.
The city of Savannah is actually rife with tunnels, that particular one is real and is located underneath the Pirate House Restaurant.
Aside from the creepiness, the she-crab soup is pretty decent.
Motivated by the all mighty tourist dollar, the Pirate House does tend to get a little gimmicky.
Their brochure claims that Captain Flint, of Treasure Island fame, hung out there, despite being a fictitious character. Also, Blackbeard's ghost supposedly roams the halls.
Ooooooo!
Also: Aarrghh!
For those history fans that may be playing along, that's obviously nonsense since Blackbeard died in 1718. Savannah wasn't even founded until 1733, and the earliest possible construction of the Pirate House, although debated, wasn't until 1753.
And if I've learned anything from Sid Meier's Pirates!, besides that governor's daughters really dig dancing...
Spin her enough times and her giant rack heart will be yours!
...it's that the "Golden Age of Piracy" ended around 1680. Finally petering out around 1730.
But privateerswere still a thing during the early years of the Pirate Houses' existence in the 1700's, and it has always operated primarily as a bar/restaurant/swashbucklers retreat. And if anything is haunted there it probably is the tunnel. Just not by Blackbeard's ghost.
Back in the day the majority of able-bodied men weren't exactly keen on the idea of seeking adventure on the high seas as a privateer. Conditions were lousy and they didn't even get a decent cut of the plunder.
The chances of hanging out and drinking rum with the likes of Kiera Knightly or Johnny Depp were also slim. Weird, I know.
So, resourceful captains resorted to impressment to fill out their crews. Which is a fancy way of saying, "Hey, that guy looks like he'd make a good sailor. Lets get him drunk/whack him on the head and drag 'em over to the ship. Yarrrgh!"
And guess how they sneaked these knocked out soon-to-be sailors over to their ship?
Why do I feel like I've been here before?
Those who enter the tunnel have reported hearing low moans, cold spots, and feelings of nausea. Not unlike what the kidnapped, barely conscious men must have felt like as they were dragged to their new occupation.
Eerie.
This cannot possibly end well.
Another purportedly haunted establishment is the Marshall House. An upscale hotel, it was originally built in 1851, and certainly has it's fair share of disturbing lore.
Conveniently located minutes from everything creepy.
During the Civil War, Union forces occupied the hotel, employing it as a hospital. The downstairs was used as a surgery. Medical knowledge being what it was at the time, if there was a problem with a limb, it got cut off. The average amputation took less than a minute, and with anesthetics being in short supply, the practice of placing a bullet in a soldier's mouth to give them something besides their tongue to bite down on, is where we get the phrase "bite the bullet".
This. But not as sexy.
Anyway, body parts from the amputations began to pile up, and being that the hotel was in the middle of town, there were limited places to discard them. So, the good doctors ripped up the floorboards and deposited the various limbs underneath.
Is it just me,
or is this is almost as disturbing as the real thing?
The winter following the Union occupation was unusually cold, which kept the smell to a minimum and allowed the severed body parts to decompose slowly. There they stayed until the hotel underwent renovations in 1999. 135 years later.
That's a hell of a surprise to have when all you're trying to do is upgrade the plumbing.
Dammit! No way are the HVAC guys going to come back after this.
Obviously, as the renovations progressed the limbs were removed. Around this same time people also began reporting seeing shadowy apparitions, hearing footsteps and voices from people who weren't there, foul odors, and just really bad vibes, man.
So yeah, all your typical haunted, let's get the hell out of here, type stuff.
It's been theorized that the dead soldiers miss their severed limbs and are looking for them.
C'mon guys!
I just want my right arm back, is that so much to ask?!
On an interesting side note, apparently the wicked aura and odors were super nasty in room 414. Various deodorizers were tried to no avail. Staff even tried group prayer, but were overwhelmed by the sense of pants soiling dread. So they hit upon a fairly ingenious solution; by cranking up the volume on a radio station that played nothing but gospel music and leaving it there. Supposedly the hauntings died down after that. Or someone finally cleaned the grease trap.
Either way, I really hope they got the idea from watching Ghostbusters II.
You know, that scene where the Ghostbusters use positively charged slime
and played Jackie Wilson's "Higher and Higher"
to animate the Statue of Liberty?
Awesome.
And while we're on the subject of bodies (or parts of them) in odd places, bizarre as it is, much of Savannah is actually built upon the dead.
Times were tough back in the day. Savannah endured several yellow fever epidemics, was almost burned to the ground twice, and it's citizens actively participated in both the Revolutionary and Civil Wars.
So, yeah, a lot of people died there.
That said, finding bodies while digging in the city is extremely common. When old cemeteries closed, headstones were moved. But, in true Poltergeist fashion, they didn't always move the bodies.
Not really sure where these go. Guess we'll just lean them up against this wall here...
Here's a particularly fun excerpt from the book Haunted Savannah that details a related incident:
"Some road crews and utility companies have been accompanied by an archaeologist, and they usually turn up a few of Georgia's earliest inhabitants when they do any sort of maintenance. A man working for Georgia Power relayed a grisly tale about laying some cable using a machine that burrows sideways through the ground. He said, 'A human body makes a sound unlike any other when that machine bores through it. We are supposed to keep a log of when we hear that sound. When we laid a cable in an alley downtown, I was busy all day writing down the fact that we kept on hitting body...after body...after body.' He then described the sound, likening it to a wooden spoon caught in a garbage disposal."
Except not.
With all the dead people around, the number of reported hauntings is suddenly not so surprising.
And since we're getting our haunted Halloween on, here's another story that takes place just east of town at Old Fort Jackson.
Originally built in 1808 as a stronghold against the British, Fort Jackson was also utilized by the Confederates during the Civil War.
The details surrounding the incident and subsequent haunting are unknown, but what we do know is that a Private Garrity was on guard duty near the drawbridge when he was approached by Lt. Dickerson.
Good lord, old forts are frickin sweet.
Private Garrity, for some reason, decided that it would be a good idea to bludgeon Lt Dickerson, breaking both his musket and the lieutenant's skull, in four places.
Garrity! You are such a dick!
Other soldiers rushed to the scene to apprehend Garrity, but in another brilliant maneuver, Garrity decided to evade capture by jumping into the moat, where he drowned.
Dickerson somehow survived, but never fully recovered. He was also neither able to remember the incident or the reason for it, or just didn't want to say.
Anyway, there has been a ghostly figure seen at the scene of the attack. Most assume that it's Garrity. Supposedly he is only visible from the waist up, walking alone, his legs a misty blur.
Eh, probably just a bunch of overactive imaginations.
