My father was a strong willed man, and up until a month before his death he was completely independent. But as heart disease began to take hold, he became very weak in a short time. This came to a head one early October day when his overhead lamp's bulb burned out, and he couldn't reach up to change it. He was angry and practically in tears; as I was leaving for work he very emotionally asked me to change it for him (he lived in our house's front bedroom) because he didn't want to left in the dark before I got home. I of course changed the bulb; he apologized a dozen times for making me late for work. I told him I didn't care about work. He felt better.
|My father, Charlie Pinto on left, with my mother, Sabina.|
Hawaiian Cottage, NJ, 1963
Other strange things happen during this time of year too. Things that don't normally happen. Things my wife and I see that we don't normally see. The cats and the dog act strange. Odd noises come from the attic. The light - the atmosphere - in my father's old room, now a library, changes...gets darker, eerier.
This year I am going to chronicle the events that take place each day. If nothing happens for a day or two, I'll skip them. But I want a written record of these blowing bulbs, strange sights and odd feelings. It won't prove anything, of course...but I'll know, and you'll know, that they are actually the result of something supernatural.
-Christopher Pinto, author of
Murder Behind The Closet Door
Murder on Tiki Island