Lancaster online obituary
A place to remember and celebrate fallen colleagues in the international fight against COVID-19
2020.04.03 21:42 am_i_wrong_dude A place to remember and celebrate fallen colleagues in the international fight against COVID-19
The COVID-19 crisis has proved particularly dangerous for healthcare workers around the world, and many have given their lives in the name of patient care. Here we remember and celebrate the lives of those in our profession who have died in the COVID-19 crisis.
2012.03.21 06:23 xabhsalf Pennsylvania r4r
An r4r (Redditor for Redditor) community for Pennsylvania. Whether you're looking for platonic or non-platonic friends, gaming buddies, online friends, soulmates, travelmates, smoking buddies, activity partners, friends with benefits, or casual encounters, this is the place to find and seek.
2017.06.10 04:06 Pennsylvania Politics
A subreddit for news and discussion about politics in the Keystone State, with more politics than /Pennsylvania and more Pennsylvania than /politics.
2023.06.08 20:58 I-am-just-me83 AITA for changing my grandpa's obituary during the funeral?
I, 38 F, recently lost my grandpa. (Don't be sad, he was 86 and one day just woke up in Heaven.) My grandma had already passed 9 years ago.
The best way to understand this situation is to explain our family dynamics. My grandma was actually my step- grandma, although we never used those terms. There was never 'step' anything. I'll only use the term to explain my plight. My (bio) grandpa had 4 daughters & 9 grandchildren. My (step) grandma had 2 sons, 1 daughter, & 3 grandchildren. As I said, there was never a separation of anything. My grandparents were married for 40 years before my grandma's passing. We were all just one big family.
Now flash back to grandma's passing. Her obituary read more or less as above. All of her children and grandchildren listed as such. Not a mention of step family.
Now back to grandpa's passing. He passed away and my mom and aunts made the plans for the funeral, including writing the obituary. It was posted online to the funeral home website immediately. The first thing I noticed was there was no mention of anyone but my grandma from that half of the family. It was as if my grandma came into the family as a single, childless woman. I called my mom and said I saw the post and it seemed incomplete. She said it was done as it was supposed to be. I asked if grandpa had ever said he didn't want them mentioned. She said again that's how it's supposed to be. I was shocked. Soon messages started coming to me from my cousin's, both bio & step asking why all those family members were left out. I didn't know how to reply.
Two days later we all were at the funeral. My mom pulled me aside and asked that I read the obituary out loud during the funeral. I said sure. I only had a few minutes to prepare but I grabbed a pen and jotted down notes on my copy. I got up to read it and I inserted all the names that has been skipped. As I was reading I glanced around the room. Tears and appreciative nods came from my (step) family. Harsh looks and daggers came from my mom and aunts. After the funeral I was bombarded by thank yous from my step family. All I got from my mom and aunts was "How could you?" & "How dare you?" I simply said I did what I felt grandpa would have wanted and left it at that.
Now it's been a few weeks and my aunt's are still pissed and haven't said a word to me. My mom has maintained a bit of contact, but each time makes sure I know that I was totally out of line for disrespecting my grandpa like that. I told her I was going to need an explanation as to why they felt it was wrong. I have never gotten anything.
So, now I ask. Since you all have all the information I do, am I the asshole for changing my grandpa's obituary during the funeral?
***Update** As it seems these are the commonly asked questions, I'll clear these up. I really don't think the issue stems around money. My grandparents had money set aside for their funerals so no one was out anything making the preparations. As far as inheritance goes everything had already been decided upon by my grandparents. The life insurance policies and the pension payouts were to be split equally. The other question is whether there was infidelity that got my grandparents together. The answer is no. I actually have no idea what happened to my grandma's first husband. I think he passed but I don't really know for sure on that. I do know that he was far out of the picture before she ever met my grandpa. My bio grandmother was a drug addict that my grandpa divorced when the girls were ages 10-16. So they were very aware of the situations that led to being raised by my grandpa. In that situation no one misses their mother. The only children that lived at home after my grandparents got married were my two youngest aunts and they were age 16 and 17. All of the rest of the children were adults and out on their own.
submitted by I-am-just-me83 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
The best way to understand this situation is to explain our family dynamics. My grandma was actually my step- grandma, although we never used those terms. There was never 'step' anything. I'll only use the term to explain my plight. My (bio) grandpa had 4 daughters & 9 grandchildren. My (step) grandma had 2 sons, 1 daughter, & 3 grandchildren. As I said, there was never a separation of anything. My grandparents were married for 40 years before my grandma's passing. We were all just one big family.
Now flash back to grandma's passing. Her obituary read more or less as above. All of her children and grandchildren listed as such. Not a mention of step family.
Now back to grandpa's passing. He passed away and my mom and aunts made the plans for the funeral, including writing the obituary. It was posted online to the funeral home website immediately. The first thing I noticed was there was no mention of anyone but my grandma from that half of the family. It was as if my grandma came into the family as a single, childless woman. I called my mom and said I saw the post and it seemed incomplete. She said it was done as it was supposed to be. I asked if grandpa had ever said he didn't want them mentioned. She said again that's how it's supposed to be. I was shocked. Soon messages started coming to me from my cousin's, both bio & step asking why all those family members were left out. I didn't know how to reply.
Two days later we all were at the funeral. My mom pulled me aside and asked that I read the obituary out loud during the funeral. I said sure. I only had a few minutes to prepare but I grabbed a pen and jotted down notes on my copy. I got up to read it and I inserted all the names that has been skipped. As I was reading I glanced around the room. Tears and appreciative nods came from my (step) family. Harsh looks and daggers came from my mom and aunts. After the funeral I was bombarded by thank yous from my step family. All I got from my mom and aunts was "How could you?" & "How dare you?" I simply said I did what I felt grandpa would have wanted and left it at that.
Now it's been a few weeks and my aunt's are still pissed and haven't said a word to me. My mom has maintained a bit of contact, but each time makes sure I know that I was totally out of line for disrespecting my grandpa like that. I told her I was going to need an explanation as to why they felt it was wrong. I have never gotten anything.
So, now I ask. Since you all have all the information I do, am I the asshole for changing my grandpa's obituary during the funeral?
***Update** As it seems these are the commonly asked questions, I'll clear these up. I really don't think the issue stems around money. My grandparents had money set aside for their funerals so no one was out anything making the preparations. As far as inheritance goes everything had already been decided upon by my grandparents. The life insurance policies and the pension payouts were to be split equally. The other question is whether there was infidelity that got my grandparents together. The answer is no. I actually have no idea what happened to my grandma's first husband. I think he passed but I don't really know for sure on that. I do know that he was far out of the picture before she ever met my grandpa. My bio grandmother was a drug addict that my grandpa divorced when the girls were ages 10-16. So they were very aware of the situations that led to being raised by my grandpa. In that situation no one misses their mother. The only children that lived at home after my grandparents got married were my two youngest aunts and they were age 16 and 17. All of the rest of the children were adults and out on their own.
2023.06.08 16:28 No_Competition4897 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in SC Hiring Now!
2023.06.08 08:49 444lexx A few months ago I watched several videos of “honor walks” and they’re haunting me
For some reason I was recommended a video of something called an honor walk, which is apparently a fairly recent tradition where when a person on life support is an organ donor, sometimes the family, friends, and nurses of the person will line the hospital hallway as the person’s bed is rolled to the OR; essentially their last moments “alive.” The video I was recommended was of a teenage girl. They had her phone sitting on the bed playing Yellow Brick Road by Elton John. I’ve since heard the song various times in public and online and it makes me think of this girl’s last moments. I googled her name and found her obituary, she died in a car accident. I just think it’s wild how the internet will show us these moments of people’s lives that we never would have known or interacted with. basically it was very morbid of me to watch several of those videos and I didn’t want to tell anyone IRL because I know it was weird as hell to watch videos of essentially dead strangers.
submitted by 444lexx to offmychest [link] [comments]
2023.06.07 01:43 onewatt The Coming Revolution in Gospel Study - or "how nerds read scriptures"
 | My hype for AI-related tools combined with gospel study is very high right now. submitted by onewatt to latterdaysaints [link] [comments] AI Interpretation of hype levels in the church when we get semantic search! Beep boop beep. Despite the vast amounts of hype-vomit related to "AI" in recent months, a lot of which is unwarranted, there are some really exciting possibilities out there in technology land. I've gone back to AI and AI-adjacent tools to solve a few problems related to study and research in the gospel setting. What I found is surprising and thrilling. In fact, it sucked me in HARD the past few weeks. I'm so excited about what is possible I want to write a super long post about it! Here is my report. Young people will be powerful speakers with AI help! Also apparently ice cream will appear at the pulpit! Writing a talk.I was asked to speak in church recently and, on a whim, decided to "talk" with ChatGPT for part of that process. I asked it for advice on a certain subject, tried outlining, etc. The results were very boilerplate and uninspiring. I would say this could be a good tool to get started, brainstorming ideas, creating a first outline, or distilling points from a talk. I imagine youth speakers could get a lot of mileage out of using it! :)Use cases for talk writing:
According to AI, this is what \"Latter-day Saint News Reporter\" looks like. Nice. Eliminate clickbait from Latter-day Saint News? Check.What is it?For many years I have been aware of dozens, perhaps hundreds, of Latter-day Saint focused blogs, news sites, online magazines, etc. The problem, of course, is that ain't nobody got time for that. I've tried a few different solutions to this, relying on google alerts to find me relevant articles, but it often gets overwhelmed when something hits the news, or by false positives like obituaries, church building construction announcements in regional news outlets, or even ads. I tweaked and tweaked and finally gave up on that, resorting to just a simple feed aggregator. The downsides of a feed aggregator are that A) many sites nowadays don't have feeds, and B) It can still be way way way too much since you still have clickbait titles, unclear titles, and, well, a decades-old technology that isn't really approachable. So I tried an experiment. Could ChatGPT read the article for me and let me know if it's something I actually care about? The AI News Flow:
I really like this because I can skim the email or the post in /mormonism once per day and get a pretty good idea of what's available to read without dealing with clickbaity headlines. I'd love your feedback. What would be neat: If I were feeling bold I would work on a system where ChatGPT actually ranks each article based on relevance and other factors. That ranking could then be used to eliminate false-positives, repetitive content, etc. and allow me to go back to using Google Alerts which would make the feed more news-like instead of just blog focused. The downside, of course, is that this would cost a lot (maybe an extra 20 - 30 bucks per month?) since GPT4 is really the best for this kind of qualitative task. Second, while I can gather videos from youtube, if they don't include a lot of details in the video description then there's not much for ChatGPT to go on. It would be cool to send any new videos that hit the feed to Assemblyai or some other transcription tool before GPT analysis. Then even videos with blank descriptions could be included. Same with podcasts. This, of course, would add significantly to the cost for a casual user like me, but it's crazy to think that the possibility is out there! Tools used:
Speaking of improved searches: Massive-handed President Nelson cavorts through data using Semantic Search! Semantic SearchWhat is it?Of everything on my list, this excites me the most!! Underpinning the recent AI developments is a technology called "vectors." This is not new tech. In fact it's decades old. For our purposes, think of it this way: Instead of storing a word in a database, you convert that word into a shape. (That's the vector) Every letter, word, sentence, and paragraph could be turned into a unique shape depending on how your program works. Why is this useful? Well, computers are bad at comparing words, or making sense of natural language. But they are VERY good at math problems like comparing shapes. See where we're going? So if you use vectors, you might be able to get a computer to identify when words are "pretty close" to other words. Stick a bunch of words, phrases, and terms that mean "hate" in a vector database and a computer might be able to compare Yelp reviews to that database and figure out which reviewers hated their meals - even if they never used that word - simply because the shape of the review was mathematically similar or "close" to the shape of hate-related terms. What makes the latest AI so powerful is that they are very very very good at generating vectors based on meaning or "semantics." So, for example, the words "hot dog" and "mustard" will be more similar than "hot dog" and "dog." But what about in a gospel setting? If this works right, it will mean much deeper studying and learning for us. Imagine l jump into the gospel library and search for "How can I access physical healing?" and get some great results in conference talks and articles which talk about that exact issue. But if I search "semantically" I might also get things like the gospel topic essay on death, and the one on adversity, since those are closely related semantically to the need for physical healing.
I tested this out in an app using "streamlit" and a database of general conference talks, scriptures, and other documents. I fed large chunks of the talks to OpenAI which created a vector for each. Then the app uses a user query to search those vectors for similarity. You can try it out here: https://topical-guide.streamlit.app/ It's not well done, and crashes often, (just try again if it happens to you) but I have had a great experience using it. In the last few weeks I have used this tool to research reddit questions on this subreddit. Inevitably I find resources and insights I hadn't thought of before. What's crazy is that I have ZERO programming and engineering experience and I was able to make something that I feel gets me some great results. A whole gospel search engine made from scratch by a total amateur in a matter of a couple of days! I expect that real programmers and engineers will be able to create tools that will let members search through our vast gospel library MUCH more powerfully. Especially in the scriptures, where finding answers can be difficult, and meaning isn't always clear. I look forward to see what people create. What would be neat: There are incredible libraries out there that we ought to be searching through. The reality is that we just don't have the time to read the text, categorize it, and find places to include it in the existing gospel library. A semantic search engine fixes all of that! I added BYU Studies and BYU Devotional texts to my app, but there's so much more. It would not take much to create a database that searches through much more than we currently have in the gospel library, but still be focused on faith. I hope to add more documents, to my test and if you have any ideas of resources that should be in my database let me know. I'd also love to see an app that can return results based on date of the talk, maybe even sorting by weight for "authoritativeness" in some way. There's some very interesting opportunities here. Tools used:
A perfectly average Latter-day Saint volunteer answers questions in chat, circa 1997 Trained AIWhat is itA process called "Fine Tuning" is how you train an AI into acting the way you want. ChatGPT is a large language model that has been fine tuned by having tens of thousands of conversations with real humans who then correct it and give it examples of the "right" way to talk. While this cost millions of dollars, some companies are creating trained AI for as little as 600 dollars by simply letting the big AI do all the training instead of actual humans. Ideally you will upload a large database of questions and responses to your model, thousands and thousands of examples of how you hope it will behave, the types of answers it should give, the temperament it should have, etc. But creating that database is a big challenge. For example, if I want to create a chat bot for a law firm, I'd have to spend months and months finding and inserting common legal questions and the right kind of non-legal-advice responses that would be appropriate. So these fine-tuned models are still only options for bleeding-edge tech companies. Right? The Gospel Angle For decades, we've been chatting online, human-to-human, about gospel questions, needs and desires. I can think of two massive databases:
In essence, we could end up with a search function where the article you find isn't the static subject matter page with additional resources, but a custom response written specifically for your need and presented in the style of the thousands of faithful members who have volunteered their time to help people just like you. It could express sympathy for your unique struggles, and offer encouragement tailored to your perspective. Perhaps most importantly, it could be trained to offer a gentle prompt in the right direction for many, encouraging users to reach out for help. Thanks for reading. Let me know your thoughts. |
2023.06.06 17:22 anxiousambivalent (Content warning: self-harm). [Academic] Thoughts and urges to self-harm (16-25, UK).
Thoughts and urges to self-harm are increasingly common. We are interested in finding out what causes people to experience these thoughts to help better our understanding of this and help professionals and services better support those who experience this. Specifically, our questions ask about how you relate to yourself and others when feeling distressed.
You can take part if you are:
https://preview.redd.it/hs9vf1mo0f4b1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=2b09c3b0a77ed2805b905e99a7d85e7a3180f992
submitted by anxiousambivalent to psychologyresearch [link] [comments]
You can take part if you are:
- aged 16 to 25,
- live in the UK,
- and have had thoughts or urges to self-harm in the last 6 months
https://preview.redd.it/hs9vf1mo0f4b1.png?width=1920&format=png&auto=webp&s=2b09c3b0a77ed2805b905e99a7d85e7a3180f992
2023.06.06 15:54 anxiousambivalent Content warning: Self-harm. Self-harm research study (looking for participants aged 16-25, UK) [Mod Approved]
Thoughts and urges to self-harm are increasingly common, especially in LGBT+ individuals and young adults. We are interested in finding out what causes people to experience these thoughts to help better our understanding of this and help professionals and services better support those who experience this. Specifically, our questions ask about how you relate to yourself and others when feeling distressed.
You can take part if you are:
If you have any questions about the research you can contact me at [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
submitted by anxiousambivalent to lgbtstudies [link] [comments]
You can take part if you are:
- aged 16 to 25,
- live in the UK,
- and have had thoughts or urges to self-harm in the last 6 months
If you have any questions about the research you can contact me at [[email protected]](mailto:[email protected])
2023.06.06 13:13 juliapaterson Are you looking for an anxiety therapist in San Diego?
If yes, visit no further than Divine Life Therapy, one of the best therapy centers in California. I was suffering from anxiety, and their therapy did well for me. Dr. Joseph Lancaster is a reputable anxiety therapist in the area. I suggest you connect with an Anxiety Therapist San Diego , who also conducts online sessions through video conferencing. I took in-person sessions, but Divine Life Therapy offers the comfort of online therapy sessions through secure video conferencing. They allow you to access the support of an experienced anxiety therapist from the comfort of your own home.
submitted by juliapaterson to u/juliapaterson [link] [comments]
2023.06.05 07:07 desertplum Patrick Merrill, Missing from Plymouth, NH since 1987
 | Hey everyone! Sorry for the length and any formatting issues. I wanted to compile all the information I found into one document, especially since this took place in the 80's - 90's there wasn't a full summary of this case anywhere online. I know it's really long, but I felt all the details and nitty gritty was important to include. I watch way too much true crime, and was browsing New Hampshire cold cases online. One that stood out to me was Patrick Merrill. I am from Plymouth, and before seeing his case I wasn't aware of it happening. The man who did this to Patrick is apparently still alive, and I feel passionately that Patrick's family deserves justice and closure. submitted by desertplum to newhampshire [link] [comments] Patrick Merrill was a 21-year-old freshman Plymouth State College student from New York who went missing on April 6, 1978, last seen on Route 3, near downtown Plymouth. He is still listed as a missing person. At the time of his disappearance, he was living in the Bradford Manor student rooming house. Patrick’s family described him as having a heavy beard, light mustache, bright blue eyes, a scar on his nose, a false front tooth, reddish-auburn hair, 5’9” (an additional article I found stated 5’11” and 130-140 pounds (Valley News, Apr 23, 1987). In 2023, he would be 57. Photo from WMUR News 9 I have searched the web and old newspaper articles related to his case, and it is infuriating to say the least. Merrill was last seen at 7:30pm on April 6th, 1987, getting into George Pregent’s (40 at the time) green Mercury Comet with VT plates. Pregent was a resident of Keene, NH. Merrill met Pregent in February 1987 while hitchhiking from the University of MA to Plymouth, NH. He collected (newspapers say anywhere from $6,000 - $13,000) from his friends to buy 10lbs of marijuana from Pregent and was never seen again after entering Pregent’s car. According to Merrill’s sister, he was a casual marijuana user and was not involved with dealing before this incident. Also, according to his sister, Merrill was conducting the deal for friends at UMass, and possibly PSC students, and expected to profit $2,000. Merrill’s Mother felt that he would not voluntarily go missing, as his father was terminally ill with cancer (The Burlington Free Press, Jul 7, 1987). On April 13, 1987, Pregent, along with David Langlois (20, VT) were arrested in Rumney, NH, (driving the same Mercury Comet that Merrill was last seen in, which was impounded upon Pregent’s arrest), and arrested on possession of controlled substance with intent to sell. Pregent was taken into custody at Grafton County jail and refused to speak about Merrill (Valley News, Apr 23, 1987). According to the Concord Monitor (May 27, 1987) Pregent was living in “the 1875 House” (618 Fairground Rd, Plymouth, NH) at the time (contradicts the other article stating he is a Keene, NH or Proctor, VT resident), and was arrested on theft of services, between April 4 – 6th he used a false name and address to avoid paying for car repairs. Pregent’s record dates back to the 1960’s and is described by police as a career criminal (The Boston Globe, May 1990). On July 10, 1987, while awaiting trial for theft of service charges in Merrimack County Jail, Pregent escaped through a skylight after cutting the bars with a smuggled hacksaw blade (Concord Monitor, Jul 11, 1987). I was not able to locate information about Pregent’s capture or return to prison. Previously, In 1976, Pregent escaped from a Burlington, VT prison while serving time for the theft of 32 Volkswagens. He was caught in Boston, MA in September 1978. Pregent was paroled in 1981, and then became a teacher at Lamoille Union High School until he was arrested in December 1984 for planning a break-in and theft at Copley Hospital pharmacy. He was imprisoned for this, and again paroled in December 1986 (The Burlington Free Press, Jul 7, 1987). In 1990 Pregent was jailed in North Carolina on forgery convictions (The Boston Globe, May 1990). A week after Merrill’s disappearance a Jeep owned by Pregent was believed to be seen in Proctor, VT, close to a bog. This bog, “Proctor Bog” is near West Mountain, about 1.5 miles up a trail on Cain Street off an old logging road. This trail is also referred to as “High Ledge” by area locals (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.). Pregent (no date provided) formerly lived in Proctor. In 1987 a gallon plastic jar containing decomposed hand palms and foot soles was found in another wooded area in Proctor that Pregent was known to frequent. Merrill has a relatively rare blood type (AB), the skin from the jug was tested and matches Merrill’s blood type (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.) An article by the Boston Globe states that a DNA analysis was conducted on the skin to determine if they were Merrill’s, but they would not discuss the test results (The Boston Globe, May 1990). NH and VT state police searched the bog in Proctor on May 9, 1990, using police dogs trained to sniff out bodies. The police dogs indicated that on the west side of the bog they may have smelled body parts (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990.). Another article states the police dogs alerted to a specific spot of the bog three individual times, but nothing was found in the area (Valley New, May 24, 1990). A direct quote from the Rutland Daily Herald article, “police have believed for several years that Merrill’s dismembered body could be in the pond, their plans to execute a search have repeatedly fallen through. After waiting for two years for the bog to drain naturally in the fall, police finally opted to obtain permission to drain the pond.” (Rutland Daily Herald, May 1990). During the search, east of the bog near a stone wall five bones ranging from 4-7” were found. The bones were tested by pathologists and an anthropologist at the University of VT and were later found to be animal bones. Police stated that George Pregent was the only suspect in the case, but without a body they felt that prosecutors would have difficulty convicting Pregent of Merrill’s murder (The Boston Globe, May 1990). A confidential informant gave information to VT and NH police that suggests that Pregent never intended to sell Merrill the marijuana. The informant conveyed that Pregent stole the money, murdered, and dismembered Merrill, burying the bones in “Proctor Bog” (this article states that Pregent was living in Proctor at the time of Merrill’s disappearance, contradicting the other articles that list Plymouth and Keene). Police say they recovered some of the money from the drug deal, and that the money is connected to Pregent. The informant, an associate of Pregent told police that Pregent showed him the plastic bottles with palms and foot soles two days after Merrill’s disappearance. This informant also told VT state police that he saw Pregent with a plastic bag containing limbs, and that Pregent went to “Proctor Bog” the day after the informant saw the bag. Tire tracks and “other evidence” (doesn’t specify) suggest Pregent drove to the bog, and walked along the marsh (Valley New, May 24, 1990). VT State Police Detective Sgt. Brian Abbey said that police will not search the bog again for the body, but he predicts Pregent will be charged with murder. He is quoted as saying “We have a very, very strong case.”. The only record I could locate relating to anyone in this case after May 1990 is an article about Pregent’s arrest in Concord, NH in January 2002 on felony-level counts of possession with intent to distribute and being a felon in possession of a firearm (Concord Monitor, 2002). As described by his sister: Merrill was the youngest of three, enjoyed basketball, scuba diving, and the outdoors. He read everything and loved to play chess. He was a wonderful kid with a sense of adventure, and a wonderful sense of humor (The Boston Globe, May 1990.) From what I could find George Pregent is STILL alive today and was never charged. (Presuming that he is guilty), he needs to be charged so Patrick Merrill can finally have justice. Patrick’s family deserves to have peace, closure, and to know what happened to him all those years ago. I think it goes without saying but nobody deserves to be murdered over pot. I’m not sure what, but I’m sure something can be done with all the advancements in DNA, and science that the criminal justice system has today in comparison to the late 1980’s and early 1990’s. All I know is Patrick Merrill deserves to be found and put to rest. I found an obituary of his Mom, who passed away last year. I cannot imagine the heartache and turmoil she went through all those years not knowing what happened to her son, or where he was. WMUR Article: https://www.wmur.com/article/new-hampshire-unsolved-case-file-disappearance-of-patrick-merrill/19673486 NH Department of Justice Cold Case File: https://www.doj.nh.gov/criminal/cold-case/victim-list/patrick-merrill.htm NAMUS (National Unidentified and Missing Persons System): https://www.namus.gov/MissingPersons/Case#/23398?nav https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/224596307/patrick-douglas-merrill References Concord Monitor. (January 25, 2002). George Pregent, Marijuana Arrest 2002. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 5, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-marijuan/125825136/ Concord Monitor. (July 11, 1987). George Pregent Escapee Caught Jul 1987. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-escapee-c/125825171/ Concord Monitor. (May 27, 1987). George Pregent, the 1875 House - theft of services May 1987. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/concord-monitor-george-pregent-the-1875/125825847/ Rutland Daily Herald. (May 10, 1990). Proctor bog, search for Patrick Merrill continued. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/rutland-daily-herald-proctor-bog-search/125872899/ The Boston Globe. (May 13, 1990). Boston Globe, Patrick Merrill mention. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-boston-globe-boston-globe-patrick-m/125873157/ The Burlington Free Press. (July 7, 1987). Patrick merrill mention continued. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-burlington-free-press-patrick-merril/125872328/ Valley News. (April 23, 1987). Patrick Merrill, Apr 23, 1987. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 4, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/valley-news-patrick-merrill-apr-23-198/125824332/ Valley News. (May 24, 1990). Bog Search for Patrick Merrill, May 1990. Newspapers.com. Retrieved June 5, 2023, from https://www.newspapers.com/article/valley-news-bog-search-for-patrick-merri/125824491/ |
2023.06.03 20:51 Specific-Front-9645 Questions about downtown dive bars
 | I’m a Philly guy planning a wedding in Lancaster, and I need help finding a casual bar for after the rehearsal dinner. Please help us out with a few specific questions! submitted by Specific-Front-9645 to lancaster [link] [comments] 1) Any local bars have free live music on Thursdays? I’m thinking a lowkey cover band/artist but really down for anything. 2) Is Marion Court room all college kids all the time, or is it a bit more low key on Thursdays? 3) Does anyone recognize the bar in the photo? I went pre-covid but cannot find it online now. I remember it being downstairs and there was karaoke. It was within walking distance of Central Market. |
2023.06.02 14:31 LanesGrandma It Should Have Been A Three Hour Tour
If it weren’t for a killer urban legend, Tina and I would celebrate Valentine’s Day on the 14th
Honestly, I was enjoying a bit of human company after several hours of driving alone, four years ago. Correction. I was trying to enjoy human company. I couldn't identify what was out of sync about Ernestburgh and its inhabitants so I wrote it off to me being picky. I am picky. That's why I was looking this far away from home for the location of my much needed warehouse. I wasn't about to spend the money demanded for run down buildings in my hometown. My odometer assured me I was 114 miles from home. In Ernestburgh. Which isn't in my GPS or on any online map I called up.
Cindy the gas station cashier dropped the cash into my hand and wished me a happy day. Then, haltingly, as if going off script and unsure about doing so, she asked, "What brought you here?"
"Good question," I said, jamming the change into my jacket's inside pocket, "I'm in the market for a warehouse, around 1,000 square feet. Anything like that in town?"
"Let the young lady be on her way," a deep voice boomed behind me. My stomach jumped, although I think I remained calm on the outside as I turned around. A tall, muscular man was nodding at Cindy and me. "Don't mind her, Miss, sometimes we forget our manners here, being we all know each other. You know how that is." He chuckled, although his eyes never smiled. To me, he looked smug. I didn't appreciate that.
"Where are my manners?" I laughed, sticking my hand out to start a handshake. "I'm Lydia from the next town over. And you are?"
He stared at my hand for several seconds before taking it in a quick handshake. "Name's Hopper, Miss Lydia, good to meet you. My wife Cora tells me I need to socialize more and work less, but, you know how it is, I'm sure." He released my hand.
He sounded like he looked, smug. Part of me wanted to egg him on. But I took a breath before speaking and told him I was looking for a motel room for the night. His demeanor softened. "The Deu Lake Inn just reopened after renovations. Go right from our parking lot, left at the second stop sign. Ask for Room Number 103. It overlooks the Lake. Hope you're an early riser. Sunrise over the Lake is unforgettable this time of year!"
Ernestburgh didn't have street lights so the stop signs were a little hard to see but I managed to find the dirt road that ended at Deu Lake Inn's parking lot. That clicked for me. If I landed MoonDoor's warehouse here, the Inn and the entire old school vibe of Ernestburgh would be an easy sell to increase tourism. Especially to boomers.
Annie McIntosh greeted me at the front desk and offered me 10 % off on my stay, which I gratefully accepted. Annie called in Enzio Morton to take my 'overnight bag' to my room and make sure the air conditioning was working. I said I wasn't worried, since it was February 9 and I would rather the room was heated. Annie's response was the a/c was just installed and it being such new technology, staff needed to make sure it worked. I chuckled a little then noticed she probably wasn't joking so I stopped, rather awkwardly.
Annie busied herself with paperwork and actively avoided talking to me after that. Knowing that someone named Enzio had to accompany me to my room, I checked out the only photo on the wall. It was a black and white photo of a man who looked eerily familiar. He wore an odd white bucket hat with the brim pushed away from his face. He had dark hair with full, choppy bangs, eyebrows raised over large eyes opened wide, a nondescript nose and mouth open as if he was either talking or gawking.
It hit me: That was Bob Denver, when he was Gilligan from Gilligan's Island, a 1960s sitcom.
A document attached to the photo frame was titled "Official History and Lore of Our Founding Father". It explained 'Captain' Johnny Ernest spent his entire life in Ernestburgh. His parents raised him on their local farm, before the town existed. Deu Lake Inn was built over his family's farm property. He was orphaned at the age of 11 and lived alone for the rest of his life. He spent 25 years building the earliest homes, post office and stage coach station for what became known as Ernestburgh. Since his death, he returns every year to eat the living being he names. The town would not and could not exist without him, according to the document.
What the hell.
"Miss Annie," I asked, unwilling to be taken in by a local prank, "is that all there is to this story?"
Annie lifted her head, smiling widely. "Yes," she said brightly, "that's our Founding Father, Captain Ernest. Once a year he returns, eats whatever living being he names, then he returns to his beloved lake until the next February 10th."
'Eats whatever living being he names.' I felt fear without knowing its origin, something I don't often experience. I turned to face the Inn's entrance so I could avoid both Annie and Captain Ernest. Enzio appeared soon after. He got me to Room 103, confirmed the a/c was good, and I was left on my own for the night.
I opened the sports bag of spare essentials I always left in my vehicle. It stems from having to be prepared to run for my life when I was younger. Some habits are hard to break. It allowed me to change into a t shirt for that night. I grabbed the remote and jumped into bed.
Covers up to my neck, horror movie marathon playing quietly in the background, I was ready to relax. That's when I remembered my odometer. Part of my being picky is me recording my mileage at the end of every journey. My odometer registered exactly 114 miles from home to Ernestbugh. Based on memory, I'd travelled mostly westbound from home. And online maps clearly showed a large, well-known city 40 miles west of my place. Seems likely I would have noticed that city, had it been in my way during my travels.
Also, traveling no more than 50 miles per hour, my trip should have taken two and a half hours, three tops if I slowed down, got stuck in traffic jams or stopped a lot. That wasn't how my drive went at all. I left home at 10 a.m. and drove non-stop until I arrived at Ernestburgh nine hours later, just before 7 p.m.
Once again, what the hell.
I called up my dashcam footage and fast forwarded through the day's journey. There was scenery I recognized, close to home, then about five hours of static, then scenery that I recalled driving into Ernestburgh. The first time I watched it, I didn't believe it. Had to be a technical glitch. The third time I watched it, my muscles tightened for fight or flight. As much as I wanted to leave immediately, I realized I'd do better to wait until morning. I set my phone alarm for 6:45 a.m. and plugged in my phone to recharge, then spent a long time staring at the ceiling.
My alarm rang a bit too early for my liking and I didn't remember setting the ring tone to 'growls and groans'. The time on my phone was 5:45 a.m. so it wasn't my alarm. For a second I attributed the noise to the horror movie marathon I'd selected for the room's TV. Nope. TV must have shut itself off while I was asleep.
I heard it again. A growl, thunderous and a bit muffled, coming from the back of the Inn where my window faced. Expecting an incoming thunderstorm, I opened the curtains a bit and stared for a second or two at a huge bubble sitting on the lake. A face smiled at me from inside the bubble. A face. In a bubble. On a lake. Smiling at me. So much wrong.
After the fastest shower ever, I shoved all my gear into my sports bag and threw on my coat. I ran to the back of the Inn with all my gear and my phone (charge cord still attached, alarm shut off) at the ready. The beach, such as it was, was about a two minute jog from the back of the Inn and extended for quite a bit before meeting the water. There was a large bubble sitting on the water's surface, a significant distance from the shore. This was the same bubble I'd seen out the window. It kept getting larger, as did the face in it.
I was trying to focus my phone's camera when I heard someone speaking behind me. Annie, the front desk clerk, asked if I was ready to check out.
"Um, Annie, do you see that?" I said as gently as I could, pointing at the bubble. As soon as I looked at it, I couldn't look away. Annie didn't answer my question but she did keep talking. She said check out prior to 11:25 a.m. was fine but I had to pay now. I asked her how much and she didn't answer, which prompted me to look directly at her.
The growling started again. Of course it was much louder than I'd heard in my room. Annie frowned but stood firm, hand out, palm up. I looked back at the lake and the bubble had moved much closer to shore, almost touching dry land. It was huge, and the face now had a full body with arms and legs. Still smiling, it pointed at me with its left arm.
My blood ran cold. I heard Annie's voice but couldn't understand the words. The bubble drew ever closer. The growls were so loud, I clamped my hands over my ears but still couldn't stop staring at the face. It seemed so familiar.
Annie might have stopped talking, I don't know. All I could hear with my hands on my ears was muffled growling. I knew she was still there because she had grabbed my right arm with both hands and pulled fiercely. Even so, I kept staring at the bubble that had stopped rolling when it made land.
The growling continued.
Annie tugged until my right hand fell away from my ear. She screamed it wasn't her time as she released my arm. At that time I didn't know if she stayed or left because I was still watching the bubble.
A crack formed, splitting the bubble in half vertically. Within a blink or two, the bubble split open and the growling changed to a low, gravelly human voice. "Annie! Annie McIntosh!" the being said. Its finger no longer pointed at me, but to my right. I felt compelled to glance beside me and sure enough, there was Annie. Her hands were balled up into fists, pushing on her temples. She was crying and shaking, and I felt genuine terror just looking at her.
"Annie McIntosh, it is your time!" the being announced as it took two steps towards her. I'm ashamed to say I felt a brief moment of relief that the being wasn't aiming at me before I realized it appeared to be hellbent on getting Annie. She was now screaming wordlessly, seemingly unable or unwilling to run.
In that moment, two things occurred to me. The being was an exact replica of the black and white photo of the town's founding father. And if the urban legend was correct, 'Captain' Johnny Ernest can only eat one person per year. He names that person before eating them. Since he'd already named Annie, I figured I was safe at least for that year, and tried to distract him. Maybe Annie could escape and live another year.
I screamed at him, "Captain, you're dead, you don't need to eat anymore!" It was the best I could think of at the time. I put my hands on Annie's left arm and tried to drag her away with me. No luck, she felt like she was cemented to the spot.
Meanwhile, Captain Ernest continued to take huge steps towards us. I'm used to living with and around weird things, but this went beyond weird. Gilligan wanted to eat someone and he seemed focused on Annie.
Something in me broke. I screamed I was sorry to Annie and took off at a full run. I didn't stop running until I got to the back of the Inn. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was morbid curiosity, but I had to take one last look back.
Captain Ernest was still at least two of his steps away from her when he grabbed her.
She was still screaming when he dropped her into his mouth.
I folded two ten dollar bills under the phone on the Inn's front desk then jumped into my car and peeled out. When I got to Ernestburgh's main street I turned left. A right turn would have taken me back to Ernestburgh and that was a huge nope for me. As soon as I saw something resembling a freeway, I took the eastbound route and didn't stop until I was home.
The trip home took two hours and added 114 miles to the odometer. My dashcam worked just fine that whole time. The previous day's footage came up as 'corrupted' when I tried to access it. I spent the next four days in bed, waiting for Tina to return from her mother’s.
Tina's mother recovered quickly and Tina came home on day five. She asked me to retrace my steps with her in the car. No matter what we did, we couldn't find Ernestburgh. I searched for obituary notices about Annie McIntosh until Tina said I might be reaching unhealthy levels of 'need to know' when, in fact, I don't need to know. And she was right.
But every February 9th and 10th since then, she and I spend those days together, at home, without guests. We stay in bed, watch our fav horror movies and eat whatever we want. It's our customized version of Valentine's Day.
Author's note: Find me at LG Writes, Odd Directions and Write_Right
submitted by LanesGrandma to Write_Right [link] [comments]
Honestly, I was enjoying a bit of human company after several hours of driving alone, four years ago. Correction. I was trying to enjoy human company. I couldn't identify what was out of sync about Ernestburgh and its inhabitants so I wrote it off to me being picky. I am picky. That's why I was looking this far away from home for the location of my much needed warehouse. I wasn't about to spend the money demanded for run down buildings in my hometown. My odometer assured me I was 114 miles from home. In Ernestburgh. Which isn't in my GPS or on any online map I called up.
Cindy the gas station cashier dropped the cash into my hand and wished me a happy day. Then, haltingly, as if going off script and unsure about doing so, she asked, "What brought you here?"
"Good question," I said, jamming the change into my jacket's inside pocket, "I'm in the market for a warehouse, around 1,000 square feet. Anything like that in town?"
"Let the young lady be on her way," a deep voice boomed behind me. My stomach jumped, although I think I remained calm on the outside as I turned around. A tall, muscular man was nodding at Cindy and me. "Don't mind her, Miss, sometimes we forget our manners here, being we all know each other. You know how that is." He chuckled, although his eyes never smiled. To me, he looked smug. I didn't appreciate that.
"Where are my manners?" I laughed, sticking my hand out to start a handshake. "I'm Lydia from the next town over. And you are?"
He stared at my hand for several seconds before taking it in a quick handshake. "Name's Hopper, Miss Lydia, good to meet you. My wife Cora tells me I need to socialize more and work less, but, you know how it is, I'm sure." He released my hand.
He sounded like he looked, smug. Part of me wanted to egg him on. But I took a breath before speaking and told him I was looking for a motel room for the night. His demeanor softened. "The Deu Lake Inn just reopened after renovations. Go right from our parking lot, left at the second stop sign. Ask for Room Number 103. It overlooks the Lake. Hope you're an early riser. Sunrise over the Lake is unforgettable this time of year!"
Ernestburgh didn't have street lights so the stop signs were a little hard to see but I managed to find the dirt road that ended at Deu Lake Inn's parking lot. That clicked for me. If I landed MoonDoor's warehouse here, the Inn and the entire old school vibe of Ernestburgh would be an easy sell to increase tourism. Especially to boomers.
Annie McIntosh greeted me at the front desk and offered me 10 % off on my stay, which I gratefully accepted. Annie called in Enzio Morton to take my 'overnight bag' to my room and make sure the air conditioning was working. I said I wasn't worried, since it was February 9 and I would rather the room was heated. Annie's response was the a/c was just installed and it being such new technology, staff needed to make sure it worked. I chuckled a little then noticed she probably wasn't joking so I stopped, rather awkwardly.
Annie busied herself with paperwork and actively avoided talking to me after that. Knowing that someone named Enzio had to accompany me to my room, I checked out the only photo on the wall. It was a black and white photo of a man who looked eerily familiar. He wore an odd white bucket hat with the brim pushed away from his face. He had dark hair with full, choppy bangs, eyebrows raised over large eyes opened wide, a nondescript nose and mouth open as if he was either talking or gawking.
It hit me: That was Bob Denver, when he was Gilligan from Gilligan's Island, a 1960s sitcom.
A document attached to the photo frame was titled "Official History and Lore of Our Founding Father". It explained 'Captain' Johnny Ernest spent his entire life in Ernestburgh. His parents raised him on their local farm, before the town existed. Deu Lake Inn was built over his family's farm property. He was orphaned at the age of 11 and lived alone for the rest of his life. He spent 25 years building the earliest homes, post office and stage coach station for what became known as Ernestburgh. Since his death, he returns every year to eat the living being he names. The town would not and could not exist without him, according to the document.
What the hell.
"Miss Annie," I asked, unwilling to be taken in by a local prank, "is that all there is to this story?"
Annie lifted her head, smiling widely. "Yes," she said brightly, "that's our Founding Father, Captain Ernest. Once a year he returns, eats whatever living being he names, then he returns to his beloved lake until the next February 10th."
'Eats whatever living being he names.' I felt fear without knowing its origin, something I don't often experience. I turned to face the Inn's entrance so I could avoid both Annie and Captain Ernest. Enzio appeared soon after. He got me to Room 103, confirmed the a/c was good, and I was left on my own for the night.
I opened the sports bag of spare essentials I always left in my vehicle. It stems from having to be prepared to run for my life when I was younger. Some habits are hard to break. It allowed me to change into a t shirt for that night. I grabbed the remote and jumped into bed.
Covers up to my neck, horror movie marathon playing quietly in the background, I was ready to relax. That's when I remembered my odometer. Part of my being picky is me recording my mileage at the end of every journey. My odometer registered exactly 114 miles from home to Ernestbugh. Based on memory, I'd travelled mostly westbound from home. And online maps clearly showed a large, well-known city 40 miles west of my place. Seems likely I would have noticed that city, had it been in my way during my travels.
Also, traveling no more than 50 miles per hour, my trip should have taken two and a half hours, three tops if I slowed down, got stuck in traffic jams or stopped a lot. That wasn't how my drive went at all. I left home at 10 a.m. and drove non-stop until I arrived at Ernestburgh nine hours later, just before 7 p.m.
Once again, what the hell.
I called up my dashcam footage and fast forwarded through the day's journey. There was scenery I recognized, close to home, then about five hours of static, then scenery that I recalled driving into Ernestburgh. The first time I watched it, I didn't believe it. Had to be a technical glitch. The third time I watched it, my muscles tightened for fight or flight. As much as I wanted to leave immediately, I realized I'd do better to wait until morning. I set my phone alarm for 6:45 a.m. and plugged in my phone to recharge, then spent a long time staring at the ceiling.
My alarm rang a bit too early for my liking and I didn't remember setting the ring tone to 'growls and groans'. The time on my phone was 5:45 a.m. so it wasn't my alarm. For a second I attributed the noise to the horror movie marathon I'd selected for the room's TV. Nope. TV must have shut itself off while I was asleep.
I heard it again. A growl, thunderous and a bit muffled, coming from the back of the Inn where my window faced. Expecting an incoming thunderstorm, I opened the curtains a bit and stared for a second or two at a huge bubble sitting on the lake. A face smiled at me from inside the bubble. A face. In a bubble. On a lake. Smiling at me. So much wrong.
After the fastest shower ever, I shoved all my gear into my sports bag and threw on my coat. I ran to the back of the Inn with all my gear and my phone (charge cord still attached, alarm shut off) at the ready. The beach, such as it was, was about a two minute jog from the back of the Inn and extended for quite a bit before meeting the water. There was a large bubble sitting on the water's surface, a significant distance from the shore. This was the same bubble I'd seen out the window. It kept getting larger, as did the face in it.
I was trying to focus my phone's camera when I heard someone speaking behind me. Annie, the front desk clerk, asked if I was ready to check out.
"Um, Annie, do you see that?" I said as gently as I could, pointing at the bubble. As soon as I looked at it, I couldn't look away. Annie didn't answer my question but she did keep talking. She said check out prior to 11:25 a.m. was fine but I had to pay now. I asked her how much and she didn't answer, which prompted me to look directly at her.
The growling started again. Of course it was much louder than I'd heard in my room. Annie frowned but stood firm, hand out, palm up. I looked back at the lake and the bubble had moved much closer to shore, almost touching dry land. It was huge, and the face now had a full body with arms and legs. Still smiling, it pointed at me with its left arm.
My blood ran cold. I heard Annie's voice but couldn't understand the words. The bubble drew ever closer. The growls were so loud, I clamped my hands over my ears but still couldn't stop staring at the face. It seemed so familiar.
Annie might have stopped talking, I don't know. All I could hear with my hands on my ears was muffled growling. I knew she was still there because she had grabbed my right arm with both hands and pulled fiercely. Even so, I kept staring at the bubble that had stopped rolling when it made land.
The growling continued.
Annie tugged until my right hand fell away from my ear. She screamed it wasn't her time as she released my arm. At that time I didn't know if she stayed or left because I was still watching the bubble.
A crack formed, splitting the bubble in half vertically. Within a blink or two, the bubble split open and the growling changed to a low, gravelly human voice. "Annie! Annie McIntosh!" the being said. Its finger no longer pointed at me, but to my right. I felt compelled to glance beside me and sure enough, there was Annie. Her hands were balled up into fists, pushing on her temples. She was crying and shaking, and I felt genuine terror just looking at her.
"Annie McIntosh, it is your time!" the being announced as it took two steps towards her. I'm ashamed to say I felt a brief moment of relief that the being wasn't aiming at me before I realized it appeared to be hellbent on getting Annie. She was now screaming wordlessly, seemingly unable or unwilling to run.
In that moment, two things occurred to me. The being was an exact replica of the black and white photo of the town's founding father. And if the urban legend was correct, 'Captain' Johnny Ernest can only eat one person per year. He names that person before eating them. Since he'd already named Annie, I figured I was safe at least for that year, and tried to distract him. Maybe Annie could escape and live another year.
I screamed at him, "Captain, you're dead, you don't need to eat anymore!" It was the best I could think of at the time. I put my hands on Annie's left arm and tried to drag her away with me. No luck, she felt like she was cemented to the spot.
Meanwhile, Captain Ernest continued to take huge steps towards us. I'm used to living with and around weird things, but this went beyond weird. Gilligan wanted to eat someone and he seemed focused on Annie.
Something in me broke. I screamed I was sorry to Annie and took off at a full run. I didn't stop running until I got to the back of the Inn. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was morbid curiosity, but I had to take one last look back.
Captain Ernest was still at least two of his steps away from her when he grabbed her.
She was still screaming when he dropped her into his mouth.
I folded two ten dollar bills under the phone on the Inn's front desk then jumped into my car and peeled out. When I got to Ernestburgh's main street I turned left. A right turn would have taken me back to Ernestburgh and that was a huge nope for me. As soon as I saw something resembling a freeway, I took the eastbound route and didn't stop until I was home.
The trip home took two hours and added 114 miles to the odometer. My dashcam worked just fine that whole time. The previous day's footage came up as 'corrupted' when I tried to access it. I spent the next four days in bed, waiting for Tina to return from her mother’s.
Tina's mother recovered quickly and Tina came home on day five. She asked me to retrace my steps with her in the car. No matter what we did, we couldn't find Ernestburgh. I searched for obituary notices about Annie McIntosh until Tina said I might be reaching unhealthy levels of 'need to know' when, in fact, I don't need to know. And she was right.
But every February 9th and 10th since then, she and I spend those days together, at home, without guests. We stay in bed, watch our fav horror movies and eat whatever we want. It's our customized version of Valentine's Day.
Author's note: Find me at LG Writes, Odd Directions and Write_Right
2023.06.01 17:38 temporalthingss Rental scams?
I reached out online about a house I saw listed for rent online (Redfin), and immediately got a call from a man claiming to be an independent property manager of the home. Online, there was no move-in date or pet policy, and when I asked about those things he immediately told me my desired move-in date (August) and pets would work prefect. He sent over the application and told me the application fee, and then called back twice within 10 mintues telling me to fill it out. When I asked him who the owner of the houe was, he told me a name different from who is listed on the Asheville GIS (I found using avlmap.ashevillenc.gov). I asked to set up a time to go see the home and he pressed me to fill out the application.
Also when I googled this manager's (unique sounding) name, nothing comes up except for an obituary and a few other random people across the country.
Obvioulsy I'm not going to send any $, but does this give anyone else big red flags?
It's hard out here y'all!
Edit to add: I submitted a report to Redfin, hopefully they take the post down and get better about vetting their listings.
Edit again to add: I'm just gonna lightly dox this redfin listing in the off-chance someone else thinks about applying https://www.redfin.com/NC/Asheville/35-Ferncliff-Dr-28805/unit-N-A/home/185557510
submitted by temporalthingss to asheville [link] [comments]
Also when I googled this manager's (unique sounding) name, nothing comes up except for an obituary and a few other random people across the country.
Obvioulsy I'm not going to send any $, but does this give anyone else big red flags?
It's hard out here y'all!
Edit to add: I submitted a report to Redfin, hopefully they take the post down and get better about vetting their listings.
Edit again to add: I'm just gonna lightly dox this redfin listing in the off-chance someone else thinks about applying https://www.redfin.com/NC/Asheville/35-Ferncliff-Dr-28805/unit-N-A/home/185557510
2023.05.31 09:47 CitrusCosmos In Depth - My Top 10 Death Grips
Hello Death Grippers,
You may remember me as that one person who did an in depth album ranking and also a post outlining my top 20 tracks 2-3 months ago. Those posts have since been deleted because my opinions have changed. Anyway, I have been listening to DG for a while longer now, and after letting all the music simmer in I am going to be posting my 10 favorite songs from their discography instead of doing some convoluted, bullshit album ranking post like I’ve done before lmao.
Just a warning that my opinion will not be yours and there are some very popular and great songs I’ll be leaving out of the list. I've been meaning to make this post for a while but I really wanted to take my time and digest my opinions and feelings.
First, I’ll start off with some honorable mentions:
Spikes – This was probably my second/third favorite last time around, its still as much as an awesome banger as it was. It’s simply very accessible albeit lacking some depth.
Hacker – Crazy how this is off the top 10 now, it’s the quintessential Death Grips song and its simply perfect. There’s nothing I can say here that adds on to the widespread praise, but personally I just like some other songs more nowadays.
Anne Bonny – Absolute banger. Love the alternation between the smooth ear-candy synths and grinding dirty ones. Ride’s second verse here with absolutely unhinged vocal delivery is one of my favorite.
Eh – Not usually one of their standout songs, but I love Ride’s deadpan delivery over this hypnotizing, bubbling beat that rises and sinks with the bleak and nihilistic lyrics contrasting the chill, laid back beat. “Catch me hanging from my noose like eh” is one of the standout lyrics.
Death Grips is Online – Insane song, 90s crackhead rave type beat that starts off crystal clear but quickly devolves into warped psychedelic nonsense with bar after bar of some NOTM level cryptic lyrics. Definitely a favorite.
#10 – Lost Boys
My #10 pick is going to be Lost Boys, it’s a song that’s grown on me slowly over the immediately catchy more accessible songs on TMS like I’ve Seen Footage or Hustle Bones. Thematically, I really like this song as it gives us some much needed context for the Death Grips motif. Why their music is so unhinged and angry. “It’s such a long way down” followed by the “lost boy, lost boy, lost boy…” chant is a bleak chorus that speaks how there is no limit to how far a person can painfully descend into the marginalized of society. I love how this motif is spoken on top of this metallic scraping factory type beat. It really emphasizes how the aforementioned Lost Boys are just barely clinging onto life as they’ve lost their sanity completely. The vocal delivery may seem slurred and incohesive, but I love this artistic choice as it really adds to the warped acidic feel of the song.
#9 - Klink
Perhaps their most political song, this is Death Grip’s rendition of a “fuck the police” anthem that every rapper seems to have in their catalogue. The Black Flag sample slowed down and stretched over literal screaming makes for this aggressive political middle finger that becomes increasingly more unhinged and violent. At verse two, Ride even threatens to put the cops “six feet deep below the street” so they “can’t never say shit again”. The repeating motif here is Ride painting the cops as ignorant and violent pigs who are just out here to fuck you over from your business, to stop you from doing what it takes to survive. It’s difficult to tell if the narrator here is the overly drug-addled, sex-craving, hyperviolent protagonist of Exmilitary and the Money Store or the real person of MC Ride who’s clawed out the underbelly of Sacramento. Either way, from the beginning disc switch intro to the 80s radio sounding outro, this is one of my all time favorites. For best results, bundle this up with the Cutthroat instrumental.
#8 - Come Up and Get Me
I previously rated this song very highly and I still love it. I love the primal animistic energy from Ride’s vocals and the general claustrophobic sense of panic in the narrative. It’s one of my favorite lyrically with standout lines like “Street or nosedive to the next life in seconds and suicide ain’t my stallion so I’m surrounded”. This song is frantically uncomfortable verse after verse of suicide ideation, with the protagonist so trapped and afraid he imagines himself “off the planet” hopefully ascending into an astral plane where he can find some semblance of peace. However, the conflict lies in that the central character is not willing to ride into the sunset killing himself as a coward as “suicide aint my stallion”. It’s one of their most schizophrenic songs that definitely stand out on NLDW. The context of this song is also further extended given how Death Grips stashed out at the Chateau Marmont to record NLDW, trapped in luxurious celebrity norms that fueled the anxiousness for this track.
#7 – Blackjack
I love the heavy violent instrumentals on this beat, and that female cybernetic voice “BLACKJACK” gives me chills every time. The narrative here of the protagonist’s criminal life being a game of blackjack is my favorite on TMS. The central character destroys lives with drugs and violence on a whim, but he’s so drawn to this life like a gambling addiction. He also doesn’t know when he’ll “bust” and lose it all like a game of Blackjack, but that thrill keeps him going as he loses any sense of remorse he has. This sense of anxiety remains present, but the protagonist remains ever bragging being so dominant in the game of “blackjack” he feels almost untouchable, but the music comes off demonic and evil as if this central character is no longer human with that warped voice filter again even more twisted this time around than it was on Lost Boys. This track reflects a monster the protagonist has become, and its reverbing earthshaking beat only adds to that level of menace. My favorite on TMS as of now.
#6 - Centuries of Damn
This is one of those songs that don't feel so Death Grips, but I love it so much. In a slow guitar tune that shifts from cataclysmic depressing to tropical-esque, Ride contemplates centuries of existential dread for mankind. He even says "fuck the sun.. daylight sucks", blaming the sun for sustaining human life and shunning how shallow the world is and how little we've accomplished. There's not much to say about this song other than how I just love how everything comes together. It's often overlooked compared to other songs in Jenny Death but this ones just amazing no doubt. This song is also a step back for the MC Ride character, reflecting how he's stuck in this cycle of suffering from the violence, drugs and everything - and if he were immortal he would suffer for centuries unable to break the chain.
#5 – Billy Not Really
Last time, this song barely missed the top 10. Now it’s all the way up here. The cryptic Billy Not Really is simply addicting with how near spiritual it sounds. It forgoes the usual grindy abrasive Death Grips sounds and replaces it with something almost cosmic-like, alien and otherworldly. It comes off jittery and glitched, but never scraping in sound. This track feels like a nautical journey through insights not meant for our mortal minds, as we realize the dissatisfaction of our existence. Its sound never fails to draw you in with verse after verse of what feels like a spiritual departure. Case in point, I can’t really describe properly why this is so far up the list for me, but it’s certainly not a surprise.
#4 – Artificial Death in the West
From this point on, any song is basically interchangeable. These are all what I would consider peak Death Grips. They are not only great songs but transcend past the rest of their discography. This to me is simply one of the best songs in their catalogue, its refreshingly different and almost sounds peaceful, but there remains a hanging spirit of melancholy and danger to it with Ride’s vocals almost sounding like a dark warning. This song feels post-apocalyptic with civilization that once was buried in sand dunes, it feels boundless in sound but also feels numbing as if technology has dehumanized us despite the overly sexual lyrics at times here. The synths in this song and the overall atmosphere this song creates is immaculate and it makes it in my top five for this reason. This to me is so masterful because it paints a bleak tune of how technology replaces our human fundamentals with sex being replaced with porn and any semblance of social interaction being snuffed out by the boundless endless entertainment on the internet as if it were a sea of sand.
#3 – On GP
You all saw this coming, On GP is just commonly agreed to be one of their masterpieces. Jenny Death is not one of my favorite albums nowadays, but this track is absolutely peak. The shimmering guitar riffs contrasting these morbid suicide ideations are something that not many artists can accomplish without sounding needlessly edgy or too derivative. The outro “All the nights I don't die for you. Wouldn't believe how many nights I ain't died for you” is my favorite lyric in the song. Ride is basically saying how he would have taken his life On GP (general principle) if not for loved ones. It’s so hopelessly bleak but also sorely relatable for someone like myself who’s also had mental health struggles. For an artist who’s constantly wrapped around some kind of exaggerated or muddled character, this song just feels like a cumulation and finale to their story a triumph to close out a chapter and turn the page where this honest and crystal clear version of Ride will never be seen again. This song encapsulates the pain and struggle, but also the sparkling small moments of hope we hold as humans with ups and downs in life. The masterful songwriting backed with soul-rending power chords do this song justice.
#2 – Beware
Demonic, poetic and menacing, Beware is simply something else. I was initially not a fan of the Charles Manson sample as it felt needlessly long, but its place in the narration of this song is much needed. The central character of this song transforms into something monstrous and inhuman as we progress from verse after verse of poetic imagery in lines such as “cold blood night of serpent’s breath” and “the spiral storm of flames inside the torch I raise the force I ride”. The vivid imagery of this song on a looped dark guitar beat make it impossible to not paint these world-ending horrifying images in your head as the song plays.
“Harsh winds flay mine flesh to bone In splintered skeleton I roam Wastelands with naught to call my own But the path I walk alone The hunger burns within my gut As my bones turn into dust”
This little segment is my favorite on the entire song, as it just presents itself so grotesque and disturbing but utterly beautiful at the same time. There is so much to unpack here with its Biblical references and constant theme of witchcraft and dark sorcery. But above all else, this is so fitting for Death Grips to put themselves on the map and establish they are a force to be reckoned with. While many of their songs involve loss of humanity and transition into something truly evil, none of them come off as colorful and evocative as Beware.
#1 – Up My Sleeves
Yup, my favorite DG track is up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves. The opening sample “Doors and windows on, motions on” just perfectly opens up the anxiety riddled journey we’re about to take. We’re then greeted by this crawling unsettling chant that doesn’t get any easier to digest. The beat utilizes these insanely demented Bjork samples coming off super abrasive, feeding into a sense of shattered clarity. There’s many moments in this song worth diving into but ones that stands out is Ride stating his obituary will be blank at Broadway cemetery as a comparison to the unmarked graves of evil men, “my terracotta army disarms me, disowns me”. There’s also this moment that goes “My dead mother in my dream… blew her ashes off my jeans” – which is such a powerful statement of Ride losing his last memories of the only one he has loved. All in all, there’s so many cryptic but addicting moments in this track, painting how illogical the human mind can be while being so paranoid and subject to corruption. The instrumentation on this track is fucking insane too, it feels claustrophobic like in NLDW except this time its more beautiful but at the same time so much more utterly horrifying. The song name ‘Up My Sleeves’ is true to the motif of this song as it shifts between themes of materialism, death or existential dread. This song is my favorite because of how unconventional it is, refusing to fall into any ordinary song structure – and like a magician’s secret trick you never know the meaning of this song or how it came to be.
Wow holy shit that was a lot of typing. If you somehow stuck with me all the way to the end thank you, I bless you with 10 years of good luck and a Steroids hoodie will appear on your bedside tomorrow morning.
I am going to go to sleep now lmfao its 2am and I have class tomorrow morning but let me know your thoughts on my top 10 list. Let me know what other songs you love and why :))
submitted by CitrusCosmos to deathgrips [link] [comments]
You may remember me as that one person who did an in depth album ranking and also a post outlining my top 20 tracks 2-3 months ago. Those posts have since been deleted because my opinions have changed. Anyway, I have been listening to DG for a while longer now, and after letting all the music simmer in I am going to be posting my 10 favorite songs from their discography instead of doing some convoluted, bullshit album ranking post like I’ve done before lmao.
Just a warning that my opinion will not be yours and there are some very popular and great songs I’ll be leaving out of the list. I've been meaning to make this post for a while but I really wanted to take my time and digest my opinions and feelings.
First, I’ll start off with some honorable mentions:
Spikes – This was probably my second/third favorite last time around, its still as much as an awesome banger as it was. It’s simply very accessible albeit lacking some depth.
Hacker – Crazy how this is off the top 10 now, it’s the quintessential Death Grips song and its simply perfect. There’s nothing I can say here that adds on to the widespread praise, but personally I just like some other songs more nowadays.
Anne Bonny – Absolute banger. Love the alternation between the smooth ear-candy synths and grinding dirty ones. Ride’s second verse here with absolutely unhinged vocal delivery is one of my favorite.
Eh – Not usually one of their standout songs, but I love Ride’s deadpan delivery over this hypnotizing, bubbling beat that rises and sinks with the bleak and nihilistic lyrics contrasting the chill, laid back beat. “Catch me hanging from my noose like eh” is one of the standout lyrics.
Death Grips is Online – Insane song, 90s crackhead rave type beat that starts off crystal clear but quickly devolves into warped psychedelic nonsense with bar after bar of some NOTM level cryptic lyrics. Definitely a favorite.
#10 – Lost Boys
My #10 pick is going to be Lost Boys, it’s a song that’s grown on me slowly over the immediately catchy more accessible songs on TMS like I’ve Seen Footage or Hustle Bones. Thematically, I really like this song as it gives us some much needed context for the Death Grips motif. Why their music is so unhinged and angry. “It’s such a long way down” followed by the “lost boy, lost boy, lost boy…” chant is a bleak chorus that speaks how there is no limit to how far a person can painfully descend into the marginalized of society. I love how this motif is spoken on top of this metallic scraping factory type beat. It really emphasizes how the aforementioned Lost Boys are just barely clinging onto life as they’ve lost their sanity completely. The vocal delivery may seem slurred and incohesive, but I love this artistic choice as it really adds to the warped acidic feel of the song.
#9 - Klink
Perhaps their most political song, this is Death Grip’s rendition of a “fuck the police” anthem that every rapper seems to have in their catalogue. The Black Flag sample slowed down and stretched over literal screaming makes for this aggressive political middle finger that becomes increasingly more unhinged and violent. At verse two, Ride even threatens to put the cops “six feet deep below the street” so they “can’t never say shit again”. The repeating motif here is Ride painting the cops as ignorant and violent pigs who are just out here to fuck you over from your business, to stop you from doing what it takes to survive. It’s difficult to tell if the narrator here is the overly drug-addled, sex-craving, hyperviolent protagonist of Exmilitary and the Money Store or the real person of MC Ride who’s clawed out the underbelly of Sacramento. Either way, from the beginning disc switch intro to the 80s radio sounding outro, this is one of my all time favorites. For best results, bundle this up with the Cutthroat instrumental.
#8 - Come Up and Get Me
I previously rated this song very highly and I still love it. I love the primal animistic energy from Ride’s vocals and the general claustrophobic sense of panic in the narrative. It’s one of my favorite lyrically with standout lines like “Street or nosedive to the next life in seconds and suicide ain’t my stallion so I’m surrounded”. This song is frantically uncomfortable verse after verse of suicide ideation, with the protagonist so trapped and afraid he imagines himself “off the planet” hopefully ascending into an astral plane where he can find some semblance of peace. However, the conflict lies in that the central character is not willing to ride into the sunset killing himself as a coward as “suicide aint my stallion”. It’s one of their most schizophrenic songs that definitely stand out on NLDW. The context of this song is also further extended given how Death Grips stashed out at the Chateau Marmont to record NLDW, trapped in luxurious celebrity norms that fueled the anxiousness for this track.
#7 – Blackjack
I love the heavy violent instrumentals on this beat, and that female cybernetic voice “BLACKJACK” gives me chills every time. The narrative here of the protagonist’s criminal life being a game of blackjack is my favorite on TMS. The central character destroys lives with drugs and violence on a whim, but he’s so drawn to this life like a gambling addiction. He also doesn’t know when he’ll “bust” and lose it all like a game of Blackjack, but that thrill keeps him going as he loses any sense of remorse he has. This sense of anxiety remains present, but the protagonist remains ever bragging being so dominant in the game of “blackjack” he feels almost untouchable, but the music comes off demonic and evil as if this central character is no longer human with that warped voice filter again even more twisted this time around than it was on Lost Boys. This track reflects a monster the protagonist has become, and its reverbing earthshaking beat only adds to that level of menace. My favorite on TMS as of now.
#6 - Centuries of Damn
This is one of those songs that don't feel so Death Grips, but I love it so much. In a slow guitar tune that shifts from cataclysmic depressing to tropical-esque, Ride contemplates centuries of existential dread for mankind. He even says "fuck the sun.. daylight sucks", blaming the sun for sustaining human life and shunning how shallow the world is and how little we've accomplished. There's not much to say about this song other than how I just love how everything comes together. It's often overlooked compared to other songs in Jenny Death but this ones just amazing no doubt. This song is also a step back for the MC Ride character, reflecting how he's stuck in this cycle of suffering from the violence, drugs and everything - and if he were immortal he would suffer for centuries unable to break the chain.
#5 – Billy Not Really
Last time, this song barely missed the top 10. Now it’s all the way up here. The cryptic Billy Not Really is simply addicting with how near spiritual it sounds. It forgoes the usual grindy abrasive Death Grips sounds and replaces it with something almost cosmic-like, alien and otherworldly. It comes off jittery and glitched, but never scraping in sound. This track feels like a nautical journey through insights not meant for our mortal minds, as we realize the dissatisfaction of our existence. Its sound never fails to draw you in with verse after verse of what feels like a spiritual departure. Case in point, I can’t really describe properly why this is so far up the list for me, but it’s certainly not a surprise.
#4 – Artificial Death in the West
From this point on, any song is basically interchangeable. These are all what I would consider peak Death Grips. They are not only great songs but transcend past the rest of their discography. This to me is simply one of the best songs in their catalogue, its refreshingly different and almost sounds peaceful, but there remains a hanging spirit of melancholy and danger to it with Ride’s vocals almost sounding like a dark warning. This song feels post-apocalyptic with civilization that once was buried in sand dunes, it feels boundless in sound but also feels numbing as if technology has dehumanized us despite the overly sexual lyrics at times here. The synths in this song and the overall atmosphere this song creates is immaculate and it makes it in my top five for this reason. This to me is so masterful because it paints a bleak tune of how technology replaces our human fundamentals with sex being replaced with porn and any semblance of social interaction being snuffed out by the boundless endless entertainment on the internet as if it were a sea of sand.
#3 – On GP
You all saw this coming, On GP is just commonly agreed to be one of their masterpieces. Jenny Death is not one of my favorite albums nowadays, but this track is absolutely peak. The shimmering guitar riffs contrasting these morbid suicide ideations are something that not many artists can accomplish without sounding needlessly edgy or too derivative. The outro “All the nights I don't die for you. Wouldn't believe how many nights I ain't died for you” is my favorite lyric in the song. Ride is basically saying how he would have taken his life On GP (general principle) if not for loved ones. It’s so hopelessly bleak but also sorely relatable for someone like myself who’s also had mental health struggles. For an artist who’s constantly wrapped around some kind of exaggerated or muddled character, this song just feels like a cumulation and finale to their story a triumph to close out a chapter and turn the page where this honest and crystal clear version of Ride will never be seen again. This song encapsulates the pain and struggle, but also the sparkling small moments of hope we hold as humans with ups and downs in life. The masterful songwriting backed with soul-rending power chords do this song justice.
#2 – Beware
Demonic, poetic and menacing, Beware is simply something else. I was initially not a fan of the Charles Manson sample as it felt needlessly long, but its place in the narration of this song is much needed. The central character of this song transforms into something monstrous and inhuman as we progress from verse after verse of poetic imagery in lines such as “cold blood night of serpent’s breath” and “the spiral storm of flames inside the torch I raise the force I ride”. The vivid imagery of this song on a looped dark guitar beat make it impossible to not paint these world-ending horrifying images in your head as the song plays.
“Harsh winds flay mine flesh to bone In splintered skeleton I roam Wastelands with naught to call my own But the path I walk alone The hunger burns within my gut As my bones turn into dust”
This little segment is my favorite on the entire song, as it just presents itself so grotesque and disturbing but utterly beautiful at the same time. There is so much to unpack here with its Biblical references and constant theme of witchcraft and dark sorcery. But above all else, this is so fitting for Death Grips to put themselves on the map and establish they are a force to be reckoned with. While many of their songs involve loss of humanity and transition into something truly evil, none of them come off as colorful and evocative as Beware.
#1 – Up My Sleeves
Yup, my favorite DG track is up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves up my sleeves. The opening sample “Doors and windows on, motions on” just perfectly opens up the anxiety riddled journey we’re about to take. We’re then greeted by this crawling unsettling chant that doesn’t get any easier to digest. The beat utilizes these insanely demented Bjork samples coming off super abrasive, feeding into a sense of shattered clarity. There’s many moments in this song worth diving into but ones that stands out is Ride stating his obituary will be blank at Broadway cemetery as a comparison to the unmarked graves of evil men, “my terracotta army disarms me, disowns me”. There’s also this moment that goes “My dead mother in my dream… blew her ashes off my jeans” – which is such a powerful statement of Ride losing his last memories of the only one he has loved. All in all, there’s so many cryptic but addicting moments in this track, painting how illogical the human mind can be while being so paranoid and subject to corruption. The instrumentation on this track is fucking insane too, it feels claustrophobic like in NLDW except this time its more beautiful but at the same time so much more utterly horrifying. The song name ‘Up My Sleeves’ is true to the motif of this song as it shifts between themes of materialism, death or existential dread. This song is my favorite because of how unconventional it is, refusing to fall into any ordinary song structure – and like a magician’s secret trick you never know the meaning of this song or how it came to be.
Wow holy shit that was a lot of typing. If you somehow stuck with me all the way to the end thank you, I bless you with 10 years of good luck and a Steroids hoodie will appear on your bedside tomorrow morning.
I am going to go to sleep now lmfao its 2am and I have class tomorrow morning but let me know your thoughts on my top 10 list. Let me know what other songs you love and why :))
2023.05.31 08:39 funeralclient Palm Royale Funeral Home and Cemetery
Welcome to Palm Royale Funeral Home and Cemetery
Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery's mission is to be dedicated to every family we serve and hold ourselves to the highest ethical standards.We will always abide by our industry's best practices and treat every family with respect, fairness, and sensitivity. Your comfort, peace of mind, and the trust that you have placed in us will remain our staff's top priority and our commitment to help you will be expressed in everything we do.
Why Choose Our Funeral Home?
At Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery, we pride ourselves on serving the Naples community and surrounding areas with dignity, respect, and compassion. Our experienced staff is available to help you select funeral, burial, or cremation services and design a special place of permanent memorialization that acknowledges and celebrates your loved one’s life in a way that will be meaningful for generations to come.What We Offer?
Palm Royale Funeral Home was built on the beautiful grounds of Palm Royale Cemetery to offer the community a funeral home and cemetery co-located on the same property to provide families with a continuity of care and services.
Palm Royale Funeral Home & Cemetery is the newest funeral home in Naples and offers burial, entombment, and cremation service options that range from highly personalized to time-honored traditional. Our brand-new facility has a light and airy feel to it and was designed to offer a serene, yet uplifting and supportive place to gather and honor.
Inside is a contemporary chapel, reception room, and catering café that are adjacent, yet separate, providing flexibility in the types and styles of services we can offer. There is also easy access to a covered, wrap-around veranda, that provides additional seating in an open-air setting.
A high-quality digital platform enables us to offer sophisticated services such as recording and live streaming, allowing distant family and friends the opportunity to “stay connected”, “say good-bye”, and view services either “live or later”. To learn more, please visit our Recording & Live Streaming page. You're also welcome to call and speak with one of our funeral directors to learn more details, have any questions answered, or to arrange for your loved one's service.
If selected, our state-of-the-art audio-visual system will showcase your loved one’s themed and personalized Life Tribute pictorial throughout our facility, making the time and space feel truly dedicated to celebrating their special life. This Tribute will also be available for viewing on an online Obituary Page we will set up in honor of your loved one at no charge. This page will have its own link and capture condolences and cherished remembrances shared by others. In addition, a Life Tribute DVD will be provided to you as a keepsake. We are also able to produce custom playlists, play special songs, accommodate live musicians, and much more.
Our advanced technology also enables us to make virtual and online arrangements so that those who are out of the area or are confined to home are able to plan, make selections, E-sign documents, and E-pay remotely.
Funeral & Memorial Service Options
Many families feel uncertain or burdened by the notion of planning a tribute. They anticipate that arranging services will be cumbersome, complicated, or overly sad. But setting a unified time and place to gather, share, and pay one’s respects is an important and worthwhile step in the healing process.Many also don’t know where to start or what they “should” do. But we know that families prioritize and find meaning in different ways, so we embrace originality and strive to make every remembrance special. For some, the traditions and rites they are accustomed to offer comfort and stability, while others feel inspired to plan something that reflects the unique personality of their loved one.
Our staff will help you determine the best way to tell your loved one’s story, memorialize their legacy, and bring comfort to family and friends. We will also coordinate with other parties on your behalf, arrange any ancillary services, order items, place obituaries, set up, clean up, and more.
Contact Our Funeral Home
If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to submit a message to our funeral home, cemetery, and/or preneed staff and we will contact you as soon as possible.PALM ROYALE FUNERAL HOME & CEMETERY
Address: 6790 Vanderbilt Beach Road
Naples, FL 34119
Phone: (239) 354-5330
Website: https://www.palmroyalecares.com/
2023.05.31 07:54 Accomplished-Text-56 i cannot find anything online about a friends car accident
i just found out a friend of mine passed away a few weeks ago from a motorcycle accident. i found his obituary online, but i cannot find anything about his wreck. is this normal? any ideas how i could find out more info about it? i obviously don't want to ask his family.
submitted by Accomplished-Text-56 to u/Accomplished-Text-56 [link] [comments]
2023.05.30 22:02 vpach11 Bereavement proof
I dont usually do this but i really need to get the next couple days off and dont have any hours and thinking about getting bereavement i was wondering if i just get a random obituary online and say its my grandfather would i be fine incase hr ask for proof?
submitted by vpach11 to AmazonFC [link] [comments]
2023.05.30 21:44 Ifitkillsme_ Dungeons and Dragons
I was wondering if anyone had a dnd group I could join, or know of dnd events in Lancaster. I am currently playing in an online group but would like to play with some local people.
submitted by Ifitkillsme_ to lancaster [link] [comments]
2023.05.30 17:14 Hobie-WanKenobie My childhood bully died
I was always the smallest boy in my classes, and kids can be so dang mean to the runts. One boy in particular in my first grade was vicious, his name was Will. Everyday at recess he would come over to me, sneak up behind me, grab me and flip me over his shoulder onto the ground. Every single day. I don't know how the teachers didn't see or intervene. I was terrified to go to school because of him. There was this other kid that used to stick up for me, a larger boy, damn I wish I could remember his name, but he was my hero. You know we all probably have something that we're insecure about, for me it's always been my height/size until maybe when I hit my thirties. By then people had long stopped picking on me for it. I felt comfortable in my skin and capable of sticking up for myself, and I had enough success dating to realize that being short isn't a deal breaker when it comes to being attractive. So here I am, a 50-year-old man, scrolling through Reddit and came across a post that talked about a bully. And Will popped up in my mind. There's a saying that resentment is the re-sensation of anger towards someone over long periods of time. And that's what I always felt for Will. Shoot, I would even instantly dislike somebody if I met them and their name was Will. I hated him with all my passion. Over the years I've done a lot of therapy for trauma, not just for being picked on, but for a lot of physical abuse by people who should have been protecting me. But I don't think I ever actually did any therapy to process Will. So here I was, just relaxing but then he popped in my mind and I got the idea to just see if I could find him online. I think I had tried maybe 20 years ago and never found anything. So, when I typed in his name and the hometown we grew up in, a link to his obituary popped up. 50 years old, dead. My heart sunk. A little voice in my head said "good" while another louder voice said "What a shame". In his picture I could still see the young boy who tormented me, and little boy inside of me felt a wave of fear, but then I wondered what this man's life was like. I saw that he was a father to several kids, but no wife was listed. His parents are still alive, and I know parents losing a child has got to be the most painful of grief you can experience. And to die so young, I know for some of you 50 doesn't seem old, but I know I don't feel old yet, I think I'll live for quite a while yet. I wondered why he died, for some reason my first thought was drugs. I have no facts why. I just know that I've had experience with my own addiction history, and odds are he wasn't very good at managing his emotions by the way he treated me as a child. I know that the opiate epidemic in his area, like many other areas, is rampant. I googled his children and found them on Facebook, and thought how hard it must have been for them to lose their father. I don't know anything about Will, just my brief experience with him. And don't even know why I'm writing this, just feels like something I need to get off my chest. One thing I'm grateful for is that ultimately I'm not a bitter man, and despite the many cruel people I've encountered, my desire to be kind and loving towards human beings was not snuffed out. If there is some sort of peace that somebody can achieve when they rest in death, I hope that Will does. I hope his family also finds peace. And I feel like the little boy inside of me that used to get beat up, maybe got a little bit of peace today in seeing that my bully was just another human being like myself. No greater, no less.
submitted by Hobie-WanKenobie to offmychest [link] [comments]
2023.05.30 01:03 HeavyTanker1945 GUYS! everything is okay again! They gave the Skink its Proper Canadian Steel Tracks!
 | submitted by HeavyTanker1945 to warthundermemes [link] [comments] |
2023.05.29 19:08 PritchettRobert506 [HIRING] 18 Jobs in NH Hiring Now!
2023.05.29 13:26 Naao_101 Seeking Feedback on Online Obituary Generator Website
Hello everyone,
I've been developing a software-as-a-service (SaaS) platform that allows users to create online obituaries efficiently. It's a tool I've designed with funeral homes in mind, hoping to streamline their operations and offer additional value to their clients.
The platform allows the customization of obituaries with an easy-to-use interface, offers a variety of templates, and facilitates the sharing process to various social media platforms.
I'd greatly appreciate any feedback from this community regarding the following:
submitted by Naao_101 to SaaS [link] [comments]
I've been developing a software-as-a-service (SaaS) platform that allows users to create online obituaries efficiently. It's a tool I've designed with funeral homes in mind, hoping to streamline their operations and offer additional value to their clients.
The platform allows the customization of obituaries with an easy-to-use interface, offers a variety of templates, and facilitates the sharing process to various social media platforms.
I'd greatly appreciate any feedback from this community regarding the following:
- The Website: Any suggestions about the design, usability, functionality, or any features you think would be beneficial to add?
- The Business Model: Thoughts on the per-use pricing model for funeral homes. Are there any alternative pricing models you think could be more effective?
- Marketing Strategy: I'm planning to approach funeral homes directly to sell this service, but I'm open to suggestions for other marketing strategies that could be effective.
- Market Demand: Do you think there's a demand for this kind of service? Are there any other markets you think I should be targeting?
2023.05.28 17:30 No_Competition4897 [HIRING] 25 Jobs in SC Hiring Now!
2023.05.26 06:42 ThrowAwaytheCJ Something devoured our neighbours. I don't think anyone will believe what I saw.
I stepped onto the front porch holding out the hope that there’d be a basket of pastries and cookies; There was nothing there. It had been two weeks since the Gibsons had popped by. The Gibsons, our neighbors from the farm next to us, sported several more acres of land than our family and with how amazing the early elderly couple were, they deserved it.
Melvin and Maya baked together, even as Melvin’s mind slipped it was one of the only things he could remember from his 37 years of marriage with Maya. They always brought us lots of their baking, and in turn we all would help them out with things around their farm. Maya’s mind was sharp, even if both of their bodies were giving out. It was the least we could do for such lovely neighbors.
So when more than a week had passed with no calls or basket drop-offs, I knew something was wrong.
“Where are you going? Sun’s almost down,” mom asked me as I threw on some boots.
“Checkin’ on the neighbors,” I replied, stone faced.
“Oh I’m sure they’re just fine, their son and his wife were supposed to be visiting, right?”
I didn’t have a real response to that. Something felt wrong, but maybe I was expecting far too much from them. If they had family over I shouldn’t be so bent out of shape.
“Maybe you’re right,” I relented. “Perhaps it’s just that-”
Sirens rushing down the road cut me off. They were headed west. Towards the Gibson’s farm.
“When was the last time you heard those around here, ma?” I asked.
“Five months,” I got back. The reality did hit me. We were roughly twenty minutes south of Albany, and I probably haven't been to Atlanta in maybe three months. I was grateful for my online friends, let alone having the internet in the first place.Which is why I’m writing what I’m writing.
“Jonah, where are ya going?” I heard my dad call out to me as I hurried into the truck. He’d been watering the tomato plants outside.
“Checkin the Gibsons!” I called back.
“Dammit, you’re gonna look silly when you crash their family bbq cause you was worried!”
“Explain the cops then!” I retorted before slamming the truck door and speeding west.
Melvin and Maya’s place was ten minutes away by vehicle. I had the windows down, and around the halfway mark I heard gunshots. I picked up speed, thrashing the poor truck on the dirt road.
I didn’t wanna be right, but sure as shit there were two cops and an ambulance parked outside of their place. I got out of the truck and rushed over. The law enforcement and paramedics were a little jumpy, and very pale.
“What’s going on..?” I asked much slower than I normally would. The sheriff looked back at the house, and that’s when I noticed the window had been smashed. The frame of the window was torn right off the house, too.
“An attack of some kind,” The sheriff told me. “It’s a gnarly scene there, kid. We suspect a-”
“Don’t bullshit him you saw it, too!” a much younger deputy called out. “That thing’s a monster!”
The sheriff sighed, giving this visibly shaken deputy a pat on the back. “We’ll see to it that someone destroys it.”
“A monster!?” I spat. “Y’all can’t be using that word lightly!”
“A big one, too,” the deputy rambled. “Damn thing took six of my bullets before it charged into the woods! I didn’t wanna believe it! Bigger than any bear I’d ever seen, and I damn well know it ain’t one!”
“Who are you anyways, kid?” the sheriff asked. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.”
“The neighbor,” I said, pointing back down the road towards my house. I gestured to look around back, and I followed the sheriff and his deputy closely.
The Gibson’s crops were torn up in some spots, uprooted to be specific. There was a trail of blood smeared across a section of the field that led to a busted portion of their fence, trailing towards the woods and swamp. I wanted to check for tracks, but I was no detective nor would the police let me get close.
“I…did they make it?” I asked nervously. The sheriff shook his head, looking down at his badge shamefully.
“I don’t believe so, son. Couldn't find a body to tell ya.”
I bit my lip, trying my hardest not to cry. I walked back to the truck and drove off. I couldn’t hold anything back and cried for most of my drive back to my place. I grew up with them always down the road, and they were kind and gentle souls. It was the type of loving marriage I envisioned myself having later in life.
My parents had finished eating dinner by the time I had gotten back. I quietly scarfed down some food on my own before telling my parents what I had seen. They were upset, for sure.
“They couldn’t find a body?” My dad asked. “That means that there’s a chance they might be alive.”
“I want to believe that, I do…but the amount of blood that was there…” I said. “I don’t think anyone could’ve survived that.”
“What are you going to do about it, son? You can’t go and fight this ‘monster’ or whatever that they said they saw.”
“They were good people. I can’t do nothing about it, pops.”
“Live a good life, for them at least. They’d definitely want that for you."
A couple days went by, and I saw some vehicles pass our place to their property a few times. It was pretty quiet. I worked around our smaller farm, and helped my parents bring food to the nearby markets. Eventually their obituaries presented themselves in the newspaper.It was cited that Melvin, Maya, and their son and their daughter in-law all died from a bear attack. This ignited a fire of conviction in me. I wasn’t a sheriff or deputy or whatnot, but a “bear attack” was bullshit. I had to get to the bottom of it.I cared about the Gibsons. I wasn’t going to give up until I found out what really attacked them.
I drove to their property, much to my parents dismay, and saw nobody was there. Someone had boarded up the broken window, and I saw a toolbox laying about on the front porch. I hopped the fence behind the house and saw the smeared trail was drying up. Something was off, more of their crops were uprooted. There was also a vile smell in the air.
Whatever the thing was, it was here recently. I was also able to find some tracks.
Hooves. Larger ones at that.
“Couldn’t be a killer deer,” I chuckled to myself.
I circled back around the house and noticed something shocking on the side I hadn’t seen yet.There was a fresh trail of blood smeared towards the woods. Who was here recently that this thing killed?
I took a look and saw a small broken window that was halfway through being boarded up. Looking down at the trail, there were once again hoof tracks leading away from the house. I saw some torn denim, soaked in blood on the ground, as well as a screwdriver.
This thing killed whoever was patching the place up. I was too scared to follow the trail, I was unarmed.I checked the nearby barn that held their sheep and goats. They were massacred, dried blood everywhere. The only remains of any animal was in the form of a rotting goat carcass that was missing its backside.
In my disgust I thought of an effective but risky plan. I took the carcass back to my truck and drove back to the house.
Mom and Dad always were in bed early, and they were deep sleepers by 8:00pm. I did make an effort to be quiet with my sneaking, as I looted our compost, and added in some of the fresh tomatoes to my bucket of slop. I unlocked the gun safe, got the highest caliber hunting rifle, and loaded myself up with a handful of bullets. I grabbed a high powered flashlight for good measure, too.
The sun was still in the sky when I got back to the Gibson’s place. I took the carcass to the back of the house, dropping it on the blood trail. I dumped the compost slob on top, as well as the fresh tomatoes for extra measure. By the looks of it, the bait may not have been necessary but I wanted to speed things along.I managed to navigate the intact wooden railings on the back porch and climbed on top of the roof.
I got a view of most of their field, which was almost completely ransacked. I took out the gun and waited.
Nothing came for two hours. The moon was full with a clear sky; I didn’t even need the flashlight I brought. Disrespectful as it was, I also peed off the house towards the carcass. That was not part of the plan, but a part of me was glad I did.
About twenty or so minutes later I heard something from the woods. I quietly got the gun ready. It was a bear, and a pretty big one at that. No bear could’ve done this, right? It began sniffing where I had peed, as well as the bait I had laid out. I wanted to fire off a warning shot to scare it off. It was interfering with the “monster!”
As I prepared to fire off the gun, I heard a low grunt and snort from the woods. It was loud. Sounded like a wild boar, but not quite. I heard the sound of something slowly dragging through the underbrush. The bear noticed it, too, and ran away. A bear was running from something like a boar? What the hell?
It emerged from the woods and I understood why.
It was a massive boar, I’d argue it was taller and heavier than the bear. It didn’t have the thick hair your average feral pig had. No, it had a bristly mane but almost no hair on the sides. It looked like it had been stabbed or shot, its hide had dark, exposed holes. I could see from the moonlight that its tusks were stained with what I could make out was blood.
Its bloated gut dragged on the ground, and the thing wheezed each step it took. It reached the bait. Did it notice me? I took aim.
The thing began to heave and hack. First, a slew of blood and bile came from its mouth. It looked like it was struggling. Then something else came out of its mouth that will no doubt be burned into my brain for the rest of my life
.A set of flailing human arms.
They swayed as this creature heaved some more. More blood came out. The arms were hung up in its mouth, and tapped desperately on the snout. Oh god, the person it ate is still alive!?
I took aim and fired into its side. It gurgled and shrieked. It spat out more content that made me lose hope.
It opened its mouth wider and a slimy, half digested torso dropped onto the ground. It wasn’t done yet. It shook its head and the arms that were stuck in its teeth flung away.
It kept puking. A hammer, a half-melted hardhat, and two severed human legs came out of its mouth. It went back to the pile and began to gorge. This thing was simply making room.
No doubt, this was the monster.
Furious, I took another shot at it. I got it right in the ear. It squealed, and turned its gaze upward. Its cold, beady eyes locked onto me. I slowly began to back up, reloading another bolt into the rifle. It snorted and roared. It reared up at me, its oversized gut weighing it down. It began pacing from side to side, before charging towards the house.
It pressed its massive body against the house, and I could’ve sworn I heard some creaking from the wall. I took another shot at the top of its head, it drew blood, but I doubt it went close to the brain.It looked up at me, opening its massive, disgusting mouth. I instinctively gasped when I saw what was inside:
It was glinting in the moonlight, the gem on Maya’s wedding ring. My body must’ve moved on its own, because I don’t remember putting the flashlight in my hand, but before I knew it I turned it on and I couldn’t believe what I saw in the light.
The ring was attached to a slimy, mangled arm resting at the back of this thing’s throat. This monster pig ate her!
I screamed in terror and in rage and fired a shot into this thing’s mouth. It stumbled backwards, squealing and rolling. Its insides were still vulnerable. As I shakily went to reload, I realized I had ran out of bullets! Shit!
The giant pig squealed and roared. It took a few steps and began to retch once again. It vomited up Maya’s body, in pieces, before retreating into the woods. I could hear its gut dragging along the ground.
I was distraught, I could tell through the disgusting, slimy and bloody body that this was indeed one of my neighbors. It was far more gone than what I can only imagine was the gentleman who was patching the windows up.
I made it home, and my mind is still a bit hazy. I don’t think anyone is going to believe me when I tell them what killed our neighbors. I want to call the sheriff, hell even the military over. I cared so much about our neighbors in life, I want them to rest easy in death.
My parents didn't even come out to scold me, they must have really been sound asleep. I wonder if anyone else heard the gunshots. Our other neighbours are fairly far out. My ears are ringing, my heart won't stop beating, and my mind is racing far too quickly to fall asleep.
I knew it wasn't a bear that devoured our neighbours. I wish it were so simple, but I wish nobody had to die in the first place.
If there's more of those things out there, then I'm worried for us. When will that thing turn its attention towards our farm?I’ve been staring at my phone for about an hour now, ready to make a call.
I’ll be able to help them out just a little bit-By guiding them to the newest trail of blood, going into the woods.
submitted by ThrowAwaytheCJ to nosleep [link] [comments]
Melvin and Maya baked together, even as Melvin’s mind slipped it was one of the only things he could remember from his 37 years of marriage with Maya. They always brought us lots of their baking, and in turn we all would help them out with things around their farm. Maya’s mind was sharp, even if both of their bodies were giving out. It was the least we could do for such lovely neighbors.
So when more than a week had passed with no calls or basket drop-offs, I knew something was wrong.
“Where are you going? Sun’s almost down,” mom asked me as I threw on some boots.
“Checkin’ on the neighbors,” I replied, stone faced.
“Oh I’m sure they’re just fine, their son and his wife were supposed to be visiting, right?”
I didn’t have a real response to that. Something felt wrong, but maybe I was expecting far too much from them. If they had family over I shouldn’t be so bent out of shape.
“Maybe you’re right,” I relented. “Perhaps it’s just that-”
Sirens rushing down the road cut me off. They were headed west. Towards the Gibson’s farm.
“When was the last time you heard those around here, ma?” I asked.
“Five months,” I got back. The reality did hit me. We were roughly twenty minutes south of Albany, and I probably haven't been to Atlanta in maybe three months. I was grateful for my online friends, let alone having the internet in the first place.Which is why I’m writing what I’m writing.
“Jonah, where are ya going?” I heard my dad call out to me as I hurried into the truck. He’d been watering the tomato plants outside.
“Checkin the Gibsons!” I called back.
“Dammit, you’re gonna look silly when you crash their family bbq cause you was worried!”
“Explain the cops then!” I retorted before slamming the truck door and speeding west.
Melvin and Maya’s place was ten minutes away by vehicle. I had the windows down, and around the halfway mark I heard gunshots. I picked up speed, thrashing the poor truck on the dirt road.
I didn’t wanna be right, but sure as shit there were two cops and an ambulance parked outside of their place. I got out of the truck and rushed over. The law enforcement and paramedics were a little jumpy, and very pale.
“What’s going on..?” I asked much slower than I normally would. The sheriff looked back at the house, and that’s when I noticed the window had been smashed. The frame of the window was torn right off the house, too.
“An attack of some kind,” The sheriff told me. “It’s a gnarly scene there, kid. We suspect a-”
“Don’t bullshit him you saw it, too!” a much younger deputy called out. “That thing’s a monster!”
The sheriff sighed, giving this visibly shaken deputy a pat on the back. “We’ll see to it that someone destroys it.”
“A monster!?” I spat. “Y’all can’t be using that word lightly!”
“A big one, too,” the deputy rambled. “Damn thing took six of my bullets before it charged into the woods! I didn’t wanna believe it! Bigger than any bear I’d ever seen, and I damn well know it ain’t one!”
“Who are you anyways, kid?” the sheriff asked. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.”
“The neighbor,” I said, pointing back down the road towards my house. I gestured to look around back, and I followed the sheriff and his deputy closely.
The Gibson’s crops were torn up in some spots, uprooted to be specific. There was a trail of blood smeared across a section of the field that led to a busted portion of their fence, trailing towards the woods and swamp. I wanted to check for tracks, but I was no detective nor would the police let me get close.
“I…did they make it?” I asked nervously. The sheriff shook his head, looking down at his badge shamefully.
“I don’t believe so, son. Couldn't find a body to tell ya.”
I bit my lip, trying my hardest not to cry. I walked back to the truck and drove off. I couldn’t hold anything back and cried for most of my drive back to my place. I grew up with them always down the road, and they were kind and gentle souls. It was the type of loving marriage I envisioned myself having later in life.
My parents had finished eating dinner by the time I had gotten back. I quietly scarfed down some food on my own before telling my parents what I had seen. They were upset, for sure.
“They couldn’t find a body?” My dad asked. “That means that there’s a chance they might be alive.”
“I want to believe that, I do…but the amount of blood that was there…” I said. “I don’t think anyone could’ve survived that.”
“What are you going to do about it, son? You can’t go and fight this ‘monster’ or whatever that they said they saw.”
“They were good people. I can’t do nothing about it, pops.”
“Live a good life, for them at least. They’d definitely want that for you."
A couple days went by, and I saw some vehicles pass our place to their property a few times. It was pretty quiet. I worked around our smaller farm, and helped my parents bring food to the nearby markets. Eventually their obituaries presented themselves in the newspaper.It was cited that Melvin, Maya, and their son and their daughter in-law all died from a bear attack. This ignited a fire of conviction in me. I wasn’t a sheriff or deputy or whatnot, but a “bear attack” was bullshit. I had to get to the bottom of it.I cared about the Gibsons. I wasn’t going to give up until I found out what really attacked them.
I drove to their property, much to my parents dismay, and saw nobody was there. Someone had boarded up the broken window, and I saw a toolbox laying about on the front porch. I hopped the fence behind the house and saw the smeared trail was drying up. Something was off, more of their crops were uprooted. There was also a vile smell in the air.
Whatever the thing was, it was here recently. I was also able to find some tracks.
Hooves. Larger ones at that.
“Couldn’t be a killer deer,” I chuckled to myself.
I circled back around the house and noticed something shocking on the side I hadn’t seen yet.There was a fresh trail of blood smeared towards the woods. Who was here recently that this thing killed?
I took a look and saw a small broken window that was halfway through being boarded up. Looking down at the trail, there were once again hoof tracks leading away from the house. I saw some torn denim, soaked in blood on the ground, as well as a screwdriver.
This thing killed whoever was patching the place up. I was too scared to follow the trail, I was unarmed.I checked the nearby barn that held their sheep and goats. They were massacred, dried blood everywhere. The only remains of any animal was in the form of a rotting goat carcass that was missing its backside.
In my disgust I thought of an effective but risky plan. I took the carcass back to my truck and drove back to the house.
Mom and Dad always were in bed early, and they were deep sleepers by 8:00pm. I did make an effort to be quiet with my sneaking, as I looted our compost, and added in some of the fresh tomatoes to my bucket of slop. I unlocked the gun safe, got the highest caliber hunting rifle, and loaded myself up with a handful of bullets. I grabbed a high powered flashlight for good measure, too.
The sun was still in the sky when I got back to the Gibson’s place. I took the carcass to the back of the house, dropping it on the blood trail. I dumped the compost slob on top, as well as the fresh tomatoes for extra measure. By the looks of it, the bait may not have been necessary but I wanted to speed things along.I managed to navigate the intact wooden railings on the back porch and climbed on top of the roof.
I got a view of most of their field, which was almost completely ransacked. I took out the gun and waited.
Nothing came for two hours. The moon was full with a clear sky; I didn’t even need the flashlight I brought. Disrespectful as it was, I also peed off the house towards the carcass. That was not part of the plan, but a part of me was glad I did.
About twenty or so minutes later I heard something from the woods. I quietly got the gun ready. It was a bear, and a pretty big one at that. No bear could’ve done this, right? It began sniffing where I had peed, as well as the bait I had laid out. I wanted to fire off a warning shot to scare it off. It was interfering with the “monster!”
As I prepared to fire off the gun, I heard a low grunt and snort from the woods. It was loud. Sounded like a wild boar, but not quite. I heard the sound of something slowly dragging through the underbrush. The bear noticed it, too, and ran away. A bear was running from something like a boar? What the hell?
It emerged from the woods and I understood why.
It was a massive boar, I’d argue it was taller and heavier than the bear. It didn’t have the thick hair your average feral pig had. No, it had a bristly mane but almost no hair on the sides. It looked like it had been stabbed or shot, its hide had dark, exposed holes. I could see from the moonlight that its tusks were stained with what I could make out was blood.
Its bloated gut dragged on the ground, and the thing wheezed each step it took. It reached the bait. Did it notice me? I took aim.
The thing began to heave and hack. First, a slew of blood and bile came from its mouth. It looked like it was struggling. Then something else came out of its mouth that will no doubt be burned into my brain for the rest of my life
.A set of flailing human arms.
They swayed as this creature heaved some more. More blood came out. The arms were hung up in its mouth, and tapped desperately on the snout. Oh god, the person it ate is still alive!?
I took aim and fired into its side. It gurgled and shrieked. It spat out more content that made me lose hope.
It opened its mouth wider and a slimy, half digested torso dropped onto the ground. It wasn’t done yet. It shook its head and the arms that were stuck in its teeth flung away.
It kept puking. A hammer, a half-melted hardhat, and two severed human legs came out of its mouth. It went back to the pile and began to gorge. This thing was simply making room.
No doubt, this was the monster.
Furious, I took another shot at it. I got it right in the ear. It squealed, and turned its gaze upward. Its cold, beady eyes locked onto me. I slowly began to back up, reloading another bolt into the rifle. It snorted and roared. It reared up at me, its oversized gut weighing it down. It began pacing from side to side, before charging towards the house.
It pressed its massive body against the house, and I could’ve sworn I heard some creaking from the wall. I took another shot at the top of its head, it drew blood, but I doubt it went close to the brain.It looked up at me, opening its massive, disgusting mouth. I instinctively gasped when I saw what was inside:
It was glinting in the moonlight, the gem on Maya’s wedding ring. My body must’ve moved on its own, because I don’t remember putting the flashlight in my hand, but before I knew it I turned it on and I couldn’t believe what I saw in the light.
The ring was attached to a slimy, mangled arm resting at the back of this thing’s throat. This monster pig ate her!
I screamed in terror and in rage and fired a shot into this thing’s mouth. It stumbled backwards, squealing and rolling. Its insides were still vulnerable. As I shakily went to reload, I realized I had ran out of bullets! Shit!
The giant pig squealed and roared. It took a few steps and began to retch once again. It vomited up Maya’s body, in pieces, before retreating into the woods. I could hear its gut dragging along the ground.
I was distraught, I could tell through the disgusting, slimy and bloody body that this was indeed one of my neighbors. It was far more gone than what I can only imagine was the gentleman who was patching the windows up.
I made it home, and my mind is still a bit hazy. I don’t think anyone is going to believe me when I tell them what killed our neighbors. I want to call the sheriff, hell even the military over. I cared so much about our neighbors in life, I want them to rest easy in death.
My parents didn't even come out to scold me, they must have really been sound asleep. I wonder if anyone else heard the gunshots. Our other neighbours are fairly far out. My ears are ringing, my heart won't stop beating, and my mind is racing far too quickly to fall asleep.
I knew it wasn't a bear that devoured our neighbours. I wish it were so simple, but I wish nobody had to die in the first place.
If there's more of those things out there, then I'm worried for us. When will that thing turn its attention towards our farm?I’ve been staring at my phone for about an hour now, ready to make a call.
I’ll be able to help them out just a little bit-By guiding them to the newest trail of blood, going into the woods.