Speaker 1: You're listening to the Paranormal UK Radio Network, the best
in paranormal talk radio in the UK and around the world.
Era is the Irish or Gaelic word for Ireland. So
take it easy or as we say in Gaelic, lig
the ski, and listen to all things concerning the paranormal
in Ireland and indeed beyond. Welcome to Scary Era.
Speaker 2: All views are Mark Manning's own, but you can express
them too if you want to be right about everything
like he is.
Speaker 3: Mark Manning.
Speaker 1: Oh I tis me. Indeed, sit down there now and
take the weight off your face and welcome to twenty
twenty six two K two six if I'm being cool
and hanging out with the kids. So, I hope you've
had a fantastic Christmas time and holiday time and you're
looking forward to the new year. I suppose as I
speak to you, the resolutions have already been broken, but
I have good news for you.
Speaker 2: Don't worry about such things.
Speaker 1: Rather seek out progress in the new year, poko or poco,
bit by bit. That's how you do it. You see,
if you make these massive, big resolutions and they don't
happen really quickly, when you just give up on them
and you go, I don't really do resolutions anymore, en
off lecturing. I've loads to tell you about. But first
of all, let's get into it, right into the heart
of the matter, the matter Hospital in Dublin, to be
quite precise. Did you see what I did there? Right
to the heart of the matter, or the matter of
the heart, as told by the squire, a good friend
of this show, David McGlynn, David mcglyn, David mcgen David McGlynn,
David McGlenn. Oh, please yourselves, it was only a bit
of fun, David. Would you ever be a good boy
and shake your funky growth thing?
Speaker 4: Have you ever had your heart broken? Has your heart
been in a broken state? My full valve prolapse is
a condition where one of the valves in your heart
doesn't open and shut the way it should. So I
was diagnosed with this condition in two thousand and six
and had open heart surgery to repair it. I was
in England at the time, and the NHS sent me
to a private hospital. Southampton Hospital was a very modern,
state of the art facility with the best of everything.
They had me opened, repaired and out of bed walking
on the third day and sent home on day five.
In twenty eleven, I was diagnosed with endocarditis, which only
a few years beforehand was a death sentence. Endocarditis means
basically that bacteria have colonized your heart and are stopping
the same valve from working. My surgeon said that I
probably had two days maximum if I had not gone
to A and E. I was coughing with blood at
the time. I was rushed to the Matter Hospital in
Dublin that day immediate surgery. The Matter is a Victorian hospital,
now much expanded and modernized. I had spent a lot
of time there previously when I was being treated for cancer,
but that's a story for another time. The old part
of the hospital is still in use and very tired.
You can easily imagine the scene as it might have
been one hundred and more years ago, and the corridors
held echoes. Nothing audible. But it's just not an easy feeling.
It's as if others are looking at you and empathizing.
Maybe that's the word I imagined, people slowly shaking their
heads and feeling sorry for me. It's a sad place.
If you've ever had general anesthetic, you'll know that once
you've been stitched back together by the surgeon. You're wheeled
out into a recovery room where you were monitored by
a nurse. I awoke to find a nurse sat astride
my torso applying pressure to a pad that was covering
the wound site, which was still bleeding. She smiled and said,
they are We're just hidying up. Don't worry about the blood.
I woke again. I must have fallen back under the
influence of the anesthetic, and I was in another different room.
Mine was the only bed and the walls had shiny
Victorian tiles up to chair rail height. That was what
struck me, the tiles and the age of the room.
It was pristine, but it was dated, not quite what
I would have expected. A nurse entered the room from
a door beside the foot of my bed and asked
if I needed anything, and I said I was fine. Thanks.
She left, and I heard another door open from my
right hand side and behind me. A man entered and
walked down the side of the room. He picked up
my chart and sat in a chair beside the bed.
He was facing the end of the bed. He said nothing.
His clothes seemed to me to be very old, fashioned
nineteen thirties in style. He wore a Gabardine type coat
and pinstriped suit with immaculately polished brogue shoes. His glasses
were those circular ones that we called young lenon glasses.
He took a clipboard from his briefcase. Who carries leather
satchel type briefcases any more? I asked him who he was,
and he simply said, I'm a dentist. I'm here to
check that your teeth at olk okay, because it could
be a real problem if something was to go round
during hard surgery. I said, it's a bit late for that,
now they've done it. He glanced sideways and said, well,
it's a good thing. Le Chet took his glasses off,
folded them, placed him in the case, put the case
in his satchel, and walked out through the same door
that he had entered. I woke again later and there
was a nurse sitting at the foot of my bed.
She said that she was there to monitor me. I
asked if she'd been there all the time, and she
said that she had gone to the toilet once, but
otherwise she hadn't left since I'd arrived from theater. I
told her what had happened, and she pointed out that
there was only one door in the room, the one
at the foot of my bed. It is normal practice
to check patients for dentures and loose teeth, but that
isn't done by a dentist.
Speaker 1: How strange, oh lucky man. Indeed, not only from the
health end of things, but imagine waking up and finding
a nurse and I quote astride my Torso that certainly
hasn't happened to me in a long time, probably since
my twenties. You have the story for you, and it's
kind of para normal, I suppose. And well it's an
alien story. You see, back in the late eighties early nineties,
when I was footloose and fancy free, myself and a
friend of mine we saw this notice and it was
for the nurses up in Saint Vincent's Hospital, which is
only up the road for me now, and they were
having a dance. So myself and this guy, Diggy was
his name, I remember, so we went because we wanted
a cup off with a nurse essentially, and we didn't
realize it was a fancy dress night. So all these
beautiful newbile nurses turned up in period costumes and you know,
Dracula outfits. But I ended up with the alien and
she had all this kind of black makeup all over
her face, with these little stars and stuff. And now
we didn't do anything nasty like a you know, the
horizontal mambo or anything like that. I was far too callow,
but we had we had a snog, you know, a kiss.
And I distinctly recall waking up the next morning in
my little grief hole of a flat and I looked
in the mirror and I got an awful fright because
it was because Myra was all black with little bits
of glitter all over it. Anyway, yes, ah, yes, dams
A did times. So anyway, a dentist happened, as you
heard in the Squire's story there. What was all that
about a time slip? I suppose what else is coming
up on today's podcast? Well, before I say anything else,
I'd like to say hello to the folks dan in
Pooka Vogue Paranormal Investigators in Killarney County, Kerry, for they
have their own podcast now called Let's Talk Paranormal, available
on Spotify and other platforms. Good luck to PJ and
the Team Good. You might remember last time around I
spoke about Margaret mcgrogan, who's an academic in one of
the universities here and she's putting together a survey on
all things strange and unusual. Did speak to her since
the new year, her and her family were still recovering
from an awful bout of flu, so I didn't push
her on it. But if you check out last month's podcast,
all the details are there, Mark Manning. Later on we'll
be listening to a new EVP from Jenny from Emerald
Dial Paranormal. She was kind enough to share one that
she recently recorded in cumber House in County Derry and
angry Birds. What's that got to do with Ireland? Well,
hang around and you'll find out. And always listen to
your Irish Mammy. I'd be talking about that as well.
But now an Irish woman living in England for many years,
and the tale of a time she spent in London
concerning the Vanishing Lady author Tara Moore.
Speaker 2: The next one I want to tell you about is
more interesting, I think than scary, and it was something
that happened several years ago. I was sitting in rush
hour traffic going nowhere fast outside Tooting beckstation. It was winter,
and I remember it was quite rainy. You could see
the reflections of the street lights and shop lights on
the pavement, and I was sort of sitting there idly,
and don like me, seemed to have not too much
on my mind, which is when I tend to be
more receptive to any supernatural type experience. Anyway, I was
watching people coming out of Tooting back tube station and
thronging the pavement. There were so many, and suddenly I
just saw a young woman and my eyes were drawn
to her for no apparent reason, because there really wasn't
anything that would have singled her out. I never saw
her face. I just assumed she was young from the
clothes she was wearing, and I can see those perfectly
even now.
Speaker 1: You know.
Speaker 2: She had a trench coat on, jeans and boots. Her
back was to me, and her hair was long and
smooth and dark, and for some reason I just couldn't
take my eyes off her. And suddenly I realized that
I couldn't see her feet anymore, and she was disappearing
from the feet up into the ether. As I said,
it wasn't remotely scary. I remember thinking, oh, I've just
seen a ghost. But it made me think about something
a shaman once told me, and he said, in every
crowd of people, you see amongst those people, although you
don't realize it, are ghosts, and that, of course ghosts
are not always a misty ethereal apparition type things, but
that many of them are look certainly as solid as
you or I. Anyway, I just thought that was quite
an interesting experience.
Speaker 3: Not paranormal. Mark Manning is real. Now that's a scary sort.
Speaker 5: Bertie Brazen here recently did the Scary Era.
Speaker 1: Podcast with Mark and I really enjoyed it.
Speaker 5: Hopefully you can listen to that podcast as well. But
I'm a filmmaker, author and video producer. For anyone that
doesn't know me, you can get all my information all
my links at ww dot bertiebrasinfilms dot com, including my
recent book The Forgotten Prince and novella detailing Brian Bru
the Battle of Clontarff, his son Donaga and Broader of Man,
the villain of the piece. This is a part of
a trilogy and I'm writing the sequel.
Speaker 2: At the moment.
Speaker 5: You can get it via my shot about ww do
bertiebrasiinfilms dot Com, or just go on to Amazon and
type in the Forgotten Prince Bertie Brosnan and it.
Speaker 1: Should come up.
Speaker 6: Thank you so much, Take care and enjoy the.
Speaker 3: Rest of the show.
Speaker 1: Of course, those of you who know all about the
paranormal know about evp's electronic voice phenomena. Now, these are
the kind of auditory artifacts that are picked up on
microphones during investigations by paranormal investigators around various historic places
or areas of note, Jenny Sullivan, who we've had on
the show before, was good enough to sh one from
cumber House in County Derry. Jenny has headed up Emerald
Isle Paranormal Investigator since twenty sixteen and it's still going strong.
I just want to give a background to cumber House
first of all, before we listen to aforementioned EVP. This
is a little piece from a site called Spirited Isle
dot i E, which I highly recommend for all things
Irish and haunting. Let's talk about cumber House, its distinguished
Georgian era estate with a deeply layered past. Constructed around
seventeen eighty, it was the ancestral seat of the Brown
Lecky family, an influential land owning lineage in Ulster. The
house showcases the refined elegance of late eighteenth century architecture,
marked by symmetrical proportions, large sash windows, and sweeping grounds
typical of estates belonging to the landed gentry of the time.
The Brown Leckey family held considerable social and political sway
in the region. As major lando owners, they managed extensive
agricultural lands and contributed significantly to the local rural economy.
Historical records suggest that the estate included farmland, forests, and
numerous outbuildings, supporting a small community of workers, tenants, and
domestic staff. Cumber House's historical footprint widened in the twentieth century,
particularly during World War II, when it was requisitioned to
house Allied troops. This wartime chapter left an enduring impression
physically on the estate and culturally through stories of interactions
between local residents and soldiers that have been passed down
through generations. Though the house experienced periods of decline in
later years, it remained a landmark of local heritage and
a focal point of ghostly legend. One of the most
chilling legends tied to cumber house centers on the patriarch
of the Brown family. After his death, a local priest
reportedly declared that the elder Brown was burning in the
fires of hell. Outraged by the claim, Brown's son confronted
the priest and demanded proof. Pressured by the confrontation, the
priest knelt, drew a circle on the floor and began
to pray. To the shock of onlookers, the elder Brown
is said to have appeared within the circle, engulfed in
flames shhh. Overcome with fear, the priest fled the estate
and never returned. In the aftermath, another clergyman was summoned
to perform an exorcism. According to legend, he successfully confined
the restless spirit to a tree on the property. Even now,
strange phenomena such as scratching sounds and low moans are
said to echo from the area around the tree. Further
references to paranormal activity at the property have included sightings
of dark figures and shadowy apparitions, disembodied footsteps, and moaning sounds.
Hang on, oh sorry, just had to do that. Don't
know why. Objects moving of their own accord. A vacuum
cleaner switching itself on and musical instruments being played by
unseen forces. Now, then, dear listener, what you're about to
hear is an EVP from cumber House. It was recorded
on a recent investigation and the setup was essentially two
or three investigators on the property. Now, one of these
investigators starts to sing an old Irish song called Grace.
It's all about an Irish patriot from the nineteen sixteen
Rising called Joseph Mary Plunkett, and just before he was
executed by the British in Kilmainham jail, he was married
to a lady called Grace, and hence the song. It
was a song made famous by the late Irish singer
Jim McCann and later on Old Tight Trousers himself Rod
Stewart butchered it. So let's listen to the song. And
just at the very end of it, a male voice
comes in and says goodbye. Now make of it what
you will, but I do know Jenny Sullivan from Emerald
Dial Paranormal and the most honorable and honest lady she is.
You'll hear it, And then I play the EVP twice
more so you can listen to it forensically. Here we go.
Speaker 5: On the old fingers thereon.
Speaker 2: To share.
Speaker 4: Lucy bye bye bye. Yeah, yeah, A couple of things
over the years. But I've learned, well I don't. I
suppose it's not learned. I've just become accustomed to it.
And I think it's kind of it's it's maybe it's
another sense or something. But often when you go into places,
you will get a feeling for the place, and you'll
get a feeling of whether or not it's comfortable. And
whatever cause is that. Who knows what causes that. But
we have an intuition. We have an inbuilt intuition. I
can't describe what it is or where it comes from,
or the physics of it or the chemistry of it,
but it's there. And anybody will will tell you to
stick with your intuition. If you think something doesn't feel right,
then don't hang around.
Speaker 3: Superb advice from regular contributor to Scary Era, David McGlynn
aka the Squire, and don't hang around either. If you've
got an Irish paranormal tale to tell, simply email Paranormal
Ireland at Proton Male dot com and it'll be read
out for you before you get to tell it on air. Yourself.
That's Paranormal Ireland at proton male dot com, Mark Manning.
Speaker 1: Oh, and I would just echo, you know, get in
touch with us by email because that way I can
gauge basically our listenership, which I'm told by the good
people at Paranormal Radio UK is pretty good. We are
the second most we aim to please the second most
downloaded podcast on the platform, so that's what I was
told recently. So that's good news. But you can boss
that for me by contacting me if you do listen
to this show, you know, reach out get me at
the email address which is Paranormal Ireland at ProtonMail dot com.
Will you do that for me? Surprise me and I'll
make sure that we give you a nod next time
we're on. So yeah, sometimes stuff just comes into your mind.
And in my case, I vaguely remember a documentary I
heard on radio back sometime in either the late seventies
or early eighties. It stuck in my mind because it
concerned an unusual natural event in Ireland and this was,
believe it or not, a battle of the birds. Oh yeah,
angry birds were talking about an actual battle took place
and blood and feathers were spilled. So I did a
little bit of research and I discovered just over ten
years ago there was an article in the Irish Independent,
a newspaper of note here, and it concerns exactly what
I've been talking about. So basically the breed of bird
was a starling's I believe. Here we go. The starling
phenomenon was remarkable. Two great Mermatians, there's a word to
conjure with of the birds separately gathered over cork for
several days, sending small emissary regroups back and forth until negotiations,
having obviously broken down, all held broke loose over the
lee on October twelfth, sixteen twenty one. It was a
gruesome affair that trembling fear and terror brought to all
who saw the battle fault with loud and chattering cries,
each company gainst the other flies with bloody beaks, remorseless
still their feathered foes to maim or kill. Where whilst
this battle did remain, their bodies fell like drops of rain.
Now I know. The renowned diarist Samuel Peeps documented all this,
as well as a richer Channey, who produced another diary
of events seven months later, on May thirty first sixteen
twenty two followed what was described as the lamentable burning
of Cork with fire from heaven, and the citizens overwhelmed
with woe, for no one knew where to run or go.
The starling battle was seen as a portent, one pamphleteer
writing reprovingly cork was first warned and then destroyed for
her sins. Scientific sources point out that animal and bird
fights usually occur over territory, food, shelter, and mates. Introspective aggression,
in which animals or birds attack members of their own species,
is widespread across the animal kingdom, from ragworms, salmon and
lobsters to songbirds, rats and chimps. There's an amusing story
of one chimpanzee famous through the work of behavioral scientists
the late Jane Goodall, that intimidated rivals by banging two
oil cans together. Starling numbers have fallen considerably in recent years,
but annual mermatians, especially over the Midlands, are welcomed by
the public with a mixture of awe and admiration for
their peace for aerial wafting, as if to the strains
of a celestial waltz being played only for them as
perhaps it may well be.
Speaker 6: Hello Scary Era listeners. My name is Anthony Kerrigan and
I'm a member of a paranormal psychical research team called Ghosttereer.
You can catch up on where we have been also
see what we've got up in the future by logging
into our website ww dot ghostereo dot net. You can
also watch shows of the Ghosteroid Channel, where we interview
numerous people in the field of the paranormal and FOURTEENA.
You can also check us on our social media pages
on Facebook, Instagram and YouTube by just typing in Ghostterer
or Ghostereer Paranormal. You can also watch our new show
Phantasm Collective on channels such as Prime UK and also
Paraflex and other streaming services to be announced.
Speaker 3: I just got to deal with this ghost now, who.
Speaker 6: Get out to talk?
Speaker 2: Ah?
Speaker 1: Yes, Anthony Old paranormal pants himself. I call him that
because he wears these amazing kind of spangled trousers that
would do the edge out of you two proud, and
then his fingers are like Elvis. They glisten with things
like sovereigns and jewelry and skulls and all that kind
of stuff. And he's absolutely brilliant and a total mine
of information when it comes to the paranormal, So do
check out ghost Era. Earlier, I was saying to always
listen to your Irish mammy, mammy being a word for
mother or mum, as you might say in the States.
And my mother grew up in a place called the
Courra in County Kildare. It's very flat, green and it's
famous for its Cora Racecourse. So I have a history
going back there because her sister, my Auntie, was secretary
of the Cora race Course way way back. AnyWho, my
mother used to regale me with these stories when I
was a kid about what she'd get up to. I
might have mentioned this one before, but it's relevant today
because of a little bit more research. So she told
me that her and her friends used to go to
an old English estate in the region of Killaire and
she she used to say it was blackherds or blackherds.
I used to pick it up like blackherds. And she
would intrigue me with these stories about they'd mosey on up,
they'd hide behind a hedge and they'd look in and
there was either a lady or one of the daughters.
Now it's not peeping tom stuff. But they'd be looking
in or a maid perhaps, and they'd see this lady
and she'd sit down at the dresser, you know, the
old with the mirror on top of it, and she'd
be doing her hair in the mirror, and she wouldn't
actually lift the comb or hairbrush. She would simply gesture
and they would leve atta into her hands, and correspondingly
she would comb herself a nice mullet or hairdoo, burnetor whatever.
So it was almost like there was witchcraft or something involved.
But I, as a younger man then I would research
on the internet black cards, black cards, black and I
could not find anything. So I began to think, well,
maybe that was just in my head, all those things
she told me in the early nineteen seventies, It was
in my head. Blackers Blacker anyway, stand back in amazement
because the residence she was likely referring to was called
Castle Martin. I think it's in the area of Straffen
in County Kildare. And guess what, folks, there was a
major blacker in the area, probably in Castle Martin House,
and he had a military service with the third Battalion
Royal Dublin Fusiliers in brackets killed their militia. Major Blacker,
the second in command of the third Battalion Dublin Fusiliers,
has left the service, and in him the battalion has
lost a very good officer and one who has had
a long connection with the battalion, for he was appointed
lieutenant in the Kildare Militia October eighteen seventy four and
has held his present rank since August eighteen eighty nine.
It is expected that Captain Greeson, the senior company commander
of the battalion, will be promoted to the rank of
major in the battalion, he joined it as second lieutenant
in August eighteen seventy eight and was promoted to the
rank of captain in eighteen eighty five. Now it does
go on death of Major Blacker nays Thursday night, and
this says. Major Blacker died this evening at five fifteen
at Lady Carton's residence, Westtown, Straffen, where he had lain
since the opening meet of the Kildare Hounds. On Tuesday, fortnight,
when it will be remembered, his horse fell back on
him in a farmyard and broke his pelvis up to
midday yesterday Wednesday. His progress gave the utmost satisfaction in
his medical attendant, doctor O'Donnell Brown. But then a change
came and Sir Thomas Miles and Surgeon Lane Joint were
summoned from Dublin. But the patient never rallied and passed
away as stated. That's an excerpt from the Freeman's Journal, Friday,
November twenty second, nineteen oh seven. So perseverance, that's what
it's all about. I discovered, yes, there was a link
there major Blacker or IP, and I know there's a
Castle Martin House connected there somewhere. I think he lived there. Anyway,
I'm going to change tacked now slightly. I would like
you to listen to what I consider to be a
remarkable audio recording. Is it related to Ireland, No, but
it is very much related to the old English families
that you've heard about just there. As an audio person,
I come across all kinds of bits of audio and
once stuck in my mind around two thousand and nine,
and I discovered it in my archives only recently, and
it concerns the memories of an elderly lady. Now she
is recorded, i'd say sometime in the nineteen seventies or
nineteen eighties. She has long passed. I'd imagine. All I
know is her name was Olga, and she seems to
be very opper, a crassed old school Heiti Titi cucumber sandwiches.
And she is recalling her childhood in the British raj
in India, where they had servants galore and were treated
like lords. But essentially it all seemed to work. She
begins her recollections talking about a panther's footprints in the garden. Now,
what I think is remarkable about this is if you
listen to it, Yeah, there's an interview going on, but
it's not a really official one. It's almost like somebody
as an afterthought just switched on a cassette recorder to
listen to the ramblings of this elegant lady. And you'll
hear that. It's not a professional interviewer. If anything, he's
very lax. He's oh yeah, really, uh is that right? Yeah.
He doesn't push her for information. Rather it flows and
she imparts it as I said, most eloquently. So it's
two people having a conversation. We're listening in and it's
almost like they are oblivious to the recording process. So
that's what I love about it. It's almost atmospheric, it's historical,
and we really are just eavesdropping on two people. Olga
was obviously a remarkable lady in a remarkable time. Now,
if you bear with it, it's a minute or two
long thereabouts. I'm going to let the recording play on
a tiny bit because you'll actually hear her just shuffling about.
It's very sweet and magical. Listen up, particularly to the
first few words.
Speaker 7: Do you ever sort of have a recurrence of things
that happened years and years and years ago, incidents the
currents or memories memories? Yeah, yeah, I have one vivid
memory of the panther's footmarks in the garden Phanta. Yes,
she had some dogs and they show a little way
beyond ours, and there's always a panther there. What's a
show a little forest? Yes, a Showow is a horst
and the stupid things come to one's mind again. I
suddenly saw somebody connecting some drinking water. We had a spring.
We had to go down the road to it, and
he came out of came out of the mountain. And
you always get the drinking water from there, and of
course I was always brought up to be very careful
of water because we had to have a man was
hired for the entire day to carry water up a
quarter of a mile up a hill a couple of
buckets up to my mother's house. We didn't have any
polar plugs or anything like that in the ship. This
man was hired and the whole day he spent going
up and down the quarter of a mile with a
couple of kerosene tins on the end of the mm hmmm,
I mean trips the day did he do?
Speaker 4: Oh? I can't tell you.
Speaker 7: Because it was quite steep. And he was known as
the waterman. And he used to have to come at
five o'clock in the morning to heat the balls because
they all had morning balls. Whatever the weather and what
cold or hot or wet or dry, the man had
to be there. The baths had to be ready b
up o'clock. Heated three stones and kerosene two.
Speaker 2: Balls.
Speaker 4: Balls by who.
Speaker 7: Family, my mother, my father. I had to show my
mother's bath. She had first bath by way into the
slick stark water. H huh, tin tubs, yeah, and no sanitation.
We had thunder boxes in the garden. Mm hmm. And
the person who came twice a day to deal with.
Speaker 2: The leemetery.
Speaker 7: Frankly and sanitary really is a mention of fact. You've
got a thunder box in the museum exactly like we had,
and all the bathwater was connected to water the garden.
What was your father really kind of retired really all the.
Speaker 2: Time that you knew?
Speaker 7: He retired when I was quite young, because he was
twenty years old. Were older than my mother, she was
his second wife. Yes, but he was in the army
when when you were born. Yes, so was he away?
Well no, we were order secunderabad uh huh. And then
he retired and then he went up to the hills.
If they have a vague recollection of a place called
your Court, which was a very horrible hill station. They
tried to settle there and they didn't like it, just
full of Anglo Indians and nothing else, And so they
eventually went to the new Preas. And I remember playing
on the hilltop where they built some Luke's church and
there were no street lights in Koto Kay had a
torch and I remember seeing the panther's eyes on the bank.
It used to squat there waiting in case the dogs
came out.
Speaker 2: Huh.
Speaker 7: The dogs always had to be taken out on a
lead after dark. I always remember seeing a panther come
out on the rock. I had some friends who lived
about two three miles out and I used to go
after to lunch and go and visit them. And they
had this house and there was a rock and four
the top. This panther. He was always to come out
off the rock and just sport itself like a cat,
rolling over and licking itself. And I always remember that
is to go and watch it or with a number
of miles I walked in those days, and I mean
it was perfectly safe. I was able to go out
by myself. The Indians wouldn't dare to do anything. In fact,
they sort of would duped you. And I remember when
my father was alive. You always used to go out
with a gun in the evening, and I sometimes I
went with him. It went out with the jungles. We
sat behind the go of bush and waited for the
game to come out. Dear used to come out and graze,
and you were used to take a gun with him,
but he never shot me. You used to watch a
few while painting things.
Speaker 5: What's it to you?
Speaker 7: What did you die of your father? Was a small
age or a heart attack? Something I think? Um hmmm
mm hmmm mm hmm. Eighty eighty three, eighty three, eighty
three gracious, maybe it was traditionally young h really gracious.
Was it was he overlord or did he go quite quickly?
I think it was for about a week or something
like that.
Speaker 2: Mhm h yeah, mm hmm.
Speaker 1: What a wonderfully sweet, elderly classic British lady of her times.
Rest in peace, Alga. I hope you are with your
dear papa now enjoying all the good Lord has to
give you. That's it on Scary Era for myself. Mark
Manningtz goodbye. Do get in touch, of course Paranormal Ireland
at ProtonMail dot com. I'd like to thank all our
contributors to the show. You are the guys that make
it happen right here. Take care because I care.