#strange light

[weirdyearbook]

"Keep that light in your eye and go up directly thereto." 

Source details and larger version.

Here's my gallery of unusual imagery from vintage college yearbooks.

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

From cat gods to death gods, electrical gods to serpent gods, here’s my pantheon of vintage deities.

[futurebird]

The Overdue Man

Have you ever had an uncanny or possibly paranormal experience?

I have.

It happened when I was in undergrad, I had a work-study in the Archivists Office in the rare books section of the library. The library is a classic modern building from the 50s, once ahead of its time, now well behind. The computer system was similar, my college being one of the first to adopt a digital library catalog in the late 60s

So, as you can see, this is, in part, a story of a haunted computer terminal.

I had returned early from spring break to pack in some extra hours in the library so I could avoid working during exams week. The campus was lovely in spring, dogwood trees shed pink petals on the quad, tulips tossed & bobbed sudden short thunderstorms. I got lost in my work on the solid library terminal with it's chunky keyboard & blue-green matrix screen.

My desk was under a little sky light in a hidden corner of the 5th floor. That's how I noticed the light changing.

The library was a modernist building, as I mentioned, and many people called it "ugly" I think simply because it was modern. Secretly it was one of my favorite buildings on the campus. Because, although built with clean minimalist lines, it was made with care. The architect clearly cared about light. During the day, the building hardly used any electric lights at all.

So, I was alarmed when the sky suddenly darkened so drastically that the runners came on. But, this was spring and I looked up expecting the thunder and another violent little thunder storm.

Gazing up through the skylight told me little. The window was frosted, and I could only see a steel gray haze. The green blue glow of the old computer lit my keyboard and I endeavored to keep working.

Before I could apply myself to my task the light shifted again. This time growing brighter... golden. The runners switched off. The air grew still. The library was empty.

The light from the skylight and from every window was a lustrous pink-gold, a sunset color although it was only early afternoon. The effect was beautiful, dust motes played near the stair well.

The bell at the front desk around the corner rang. Strange. I didn't hear anyone enter.

My main duty was cataloging, but if the head archivist was out I was tasked with lending out rare books in his place. I went around to see who it was.

The light was much more dramatic in the rare books library lobby where there were more skylights & windows, the whole space was bathed in that peach-toned light. And there, by the bell, stood a young man. Smartly dressed. Too smartly dressed.

In fact, a large part of the "paranormal" nature of this experience will require you to trust my (even then) finally tuned sense of fashion.

He had on tweed pants and a sweater, leather shoes and a button down shirt. All of his clothes were out of time. His sweater, to take one item, was a campy letterman affair in school colors. Hand knit. It was the kind of plain sweater that no one would bother to hand knit. It was hand knit self-consciously because whoever bought it couldn't afford store-bought and aimed to approximate the mass produced look as best they could. In short, it was very old.

But, it was also brand new.

The same was true of his plain, white shirt. I could see less than perfect hand stitching on the collar. Who, today would sew a white button-down shirt by hand?

Under his arm he held a notebook, and even it struck me as all wrong for the date of our existence. It was a composition book the likes of which I have never seen except in archives, the black and white dapple pattern was made by splattering ... not printing.

His outfit, though very plain, had that effect of a costume. I took all this in and decided he was from the drama department.

Not everyone could check out rare books. We had our own system, hence the computer in the basement and the beautiful, clunky terminals. I asked for his ID. That's when things got even more strange.

His ID was *laminated* and contained a *real photograph*! His name inscribed by typewriter. His student ID? In pen! I started to have my doubts about my theory that he was from drama. Maybe this was an elaborate book heist!

I tuned over the ID frowning with doubt. "This isn't-" "I'm a grad student." He explained quickly. "Have been for a long time. I know that photo is old..."

The photo didn't look old to me at all. Though, perhaps it was that strange light, concealing and repainting things, for as much as I'd noticed his clothing, I took more notice now of the man himself. He had an uncanny ageless quality. I could not have said if he were 25 or 45... or perhaps even older.

I peered at the photograph on the ID comparing it to the man. They were clearly the same. The clothing in the photo looked just as anachronistic. Even the background of the photo felt like something from a forgotten decade, a pull-down painted backdrop of the college rotunda. His photo beamed at me, and so did the man himself.

Some of the faculty had such ancient IDs. So, I decided to search him up in the system. I tried his last name, which was short an unusual. No luck. I tried his ID--

When I entered his student ID the terminal flashed. The screen inverting for a moment. I gave it wack, as I'd seen the head archivist do, and this seemed to clear it up... but the record I was now viewing was curious and incomplete.

His name had been entered in the wrong field, which is why the search failed. His first name was just an initial. I attempted to correct this but the system wouldn't accept my changes.

I scanned the book. And handed it over to him. He smiled, thanked me, and it seemed very sincere. Whatever else he was, whoever or wherever (whenever) he'd come from he seemed like a nice person, at least.

I watched him leave, and then leaned over to the window hoping to see him go out through the main exit on ground level below.

But he never came out. Instead the golden light began to rapidly fade. The library returned to normal... the charm that hovered over the place was gone.

Maybe he was just a quirky grad student with a thing for vintage clothing construction, a very old ID, uncanny ageless looks, and great timing with lighting. (and he could have left the library via the tunnels. )

I tried to look at his record in the system again, and NOBODY could edit it. Not even the head archivist. It kept changing itself back. Edits wouldn't stick. To this day, I can't shake the feeling that something more was going on.

I never saw him again.

If you are wondering, the book was "Physics and applications of secondary electron emission"

[eagle-longing-for-rostau]

Riding through the White Desert and spotted a strange light in the eastern sky. Never seen it before, and I don’t know what it is. It’s not the Moon.

[johbeil]

Drenched in orange 

Parco della Memoria, Rocca Massima, Lazio, Italy. View east yesterday afternoon while the sun was setting on the other side, coloring everything orange. And yes, that rocky grey shadow on the left is me.

[web-ii]

Red Sun, Oregon.

[pixierainbows]

last flowers

summer is gone

[vintagenews]

Source and details.