Posts Tagged ‘Hammond Indiana’

We all tell stories to our young ones. Whether they’re true or not; to make a point or just for entertainment, stories are important because they can be helpful. Well, I came up with a story that soon spread to all my nephews and nieces. I titled it…

The Little Boy Without a Coat

Always Put Your Toys Away


Winter 0f 2013-’14

My nephew Julian had his toys all over the living room. He seldom picked them up on his own (if at all) so he was constantly being told to pick up his toys.

It’s not that there were toys out, but it was every toy he had that was out. To top it all off, he’s just sprawled out in the middle of the mess watching television (actually, the Spiderman DVD for the thousandth time).

One day, driving home from pre-school, he spots a little boy in the neighborhood running down the sidewalk. Now, it’s cold outside, damn near freezing, and my nephew notices that this little boy doesn’t have a coat on! Julian was beside himself! He couldn’t believe it! He just looked at me through the rear-view mirror pointing at this coatless little boy.

“He doesn’t have a coat on!” Julian exclaimed.

“I know. It’s cold outside,” I explained.

“Why doesn’t he have a coat on?” Julian asked sounding a bit concerned.

“Maybe his mom and dad couldn’t buy him one,” I added trying to tug at his heart-string.

Julian was quiet for a moment while he looked out the window. I was about to pull into the drive when asked me, “Do you think he has any toys?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I put the car in park and looked at him through the rear-view mirror. “Do you want to give him some of yours?”

I thought Julian would have said “yes”, since he sounded so concerned, but he shocked me by giving me a serious face and shaking his head “no”.

“No?” I asked him. “Why?”

“Because he’ll break them.”

I exited the car and got Julian out of his child seat. That’s when I came up with the story.

“That’s okay,” I said calmly, “people don’t need give the “little boy without a coat” any toys.”

Julian looked puzzled.

“Yeah, the “little boy without a coat” just goes around and takes other kids toys. Since his mom and dad won’t buy him any toys he has to take other kids toys.”

Julian slowly walked to the front door and listened to my story.

“So whenever you leave your toys out and if you’re not watching, the “little boy without a coat” comes and takes them.”

I started opening the front door and Julian looked up at me and asked, “Even in the house?”

“Even in the house.”

We entered the house and I could tell that Julian was still processing the story. He took off his coat, hat and gloves and walked into the living room. He saw the living room and how cluttered it was.

“Look at those toys the “little boy without a coat” could have taken, had he known they were here. Good thing the curtains were drawn,” I said to really get him thinking.

Actually, the curtain was drawn so the mailman couldn’t see that my living room was a wreck.

“Here… maybe if I open the curtains….” I started to say but was immediately interrupted by Julian screaming in terror.

“Noooo….  wait!” Julian yelled out.

“Well, I’m not sitting in here with the curtains drawn all day, you better pick up these toys,” I warned him.

He started to whimper and whine, but he slowly picked up his toys and put them away.


My nephew Julian

It may have taken him almost an hour, but he did it.

Now, the “little boy without a coat” has become my ‘GO-TO’ guy.

If you need to, you can borrow my “little boy without a coat” story.

I’d be honored.
Thank you.


Writers Haven Fifth Issue- Urban Legends.


Writers Haven Fifth Issue- Urban Legends.

The Hauntings of Oak Hill Cemetery

Oak Hill Cemetery is a REAL cemetery.

Check out my work at HubPages:

Hellbound: preparation

Just expanding my world – one URL address at a time.

Waking up on Wolf Island in the middle of Wolf Lake in Hammond, Indiana

One of my favorite places to be – Wolf Lake Island – Hammond, Indiana

TryJimmy recommends the book Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft (Classic Reprint) by Sir Walter Scott

Inventor of the Historical Novel

Sir Walter Scott (1771 – 1832)

  • playwright
  • poet
  • novelist

I would like to thank Sir Walter Scott for inspiring me to write.
I understand that I will NEVER write exactly as I see it in my head; that I can always make room for improvement, but I shall continue to write anyway.
I am pursuing perfection as a mule to a dangling carrot – and enjoying every minute of it.

So thank you, Sir Walter Scott.

Not many Hammond residents are aware
that back in 1980 a Hessville pastor 
turned up missing.

Supposedly abducted by a Satanic cult.

That’s right, Dan LaRose was kidnapped by Satanists

A satanic symbol; possibly a shrine.

Pastor Dan LaRose claimed that Satanists kidnapped him

He told his fellow followers, friends and family in Hammond he was abducted by a Satanic cult in 1975 from Maine, N.Y. , so this isn’t the first time Pastor Dan LaRose has been kidnapped by these Satanists.The Satanists decided to man-handle the pastor and kidnap him, because LaRose was “talking shit about Satan”.

Satanists “don’t take to kindly” for such blasphemy.

The day before Pastor Dan LaRose disappeared, people in the parish claimed that LaRose stopped in the middle of his sermon and stared towards the back of the congregation. Witnesses who turned around to see what LaRose was staring at saw nothing. However, Pastor LaRose claimed he saw one of the Satanists kidnappers in a window.

Witnesses also stated that LaRose was acting strangely and said that Satanists were threatening him and his family.

He’s been missing for 27 years.
Dan LaRose left behind a loving wife and two beautiful daughters.

Why didn't he try to contact his family?

Dan LaRose even claimed that the Satanists used “shock therapy” to erase his memory, then they dumped him off in Minneapolis – bastards.

Hell on Earth

If there’s a “Hell on Earth”, it must be Centeron, Arkansas because that’s where Dan LaRose popped up – in 2007!

Not only does Dan LaRose hang out in Centeron, Arkansas – he’s the freakin’ mayor!

Yeah…no shit!
But you see, Dan LaRose wasn’t known as Dan LaRose.
Nope. He wanted people to call him “Kenny”.
His new name was Ken Williams, and now owns a radio-show program.

Those Satanists hooked him up – bastards.

But wait a minute, it gets better.

Satanists turn out to be an “underworld” crime group

Yeah..I know – wtf?

Well, I guess nobody was buying the “Satanists kidnapper” story, so LaRose decided to tell the truth.

He was kidnapped by the fucking mafia.
Well, not actually by the mafia – the mafia told him that he had to pretty much…kidnap himself.

Yeah, the mafia couldn’t or didn’t have the resources themselves at the time to arrange a proper kidnapping, so they made Pastor Dan LaRose kidnap himself.

That’s fucking brilliant.
I’m totally buying this story.

Pastor Dan LaRose claimed that he walked to Calumet City, Illinois and bought himself a bicycle, then rode west – ended up in Arkansas. He’s been there ever since, where he maintains his talk-show radio program and spends time with his new wife.

“I had an idea that sometime this would come down,” LaRose said. “It had been a lot of years, though.”

“I was told I had crossed the line and had to disappear again.”

LaRose’s original missing persons report from Hammond police in 1980 said he was born in Allentown, Pa., in 1940.
The fake I.D. that LaRose had came from a BRUCE KENT WILLIAMS – who died in a car crash in Middleport, NY in 1958.

LaRose said that his abductors threatened to kill his family if he didn’t cooperate and provided him with the Williams I.D. when they erased his memory and dropped him off in Minneapolis. He starting using it again after he left Hammond because he “didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m afraid even now that because this has come out, that my family and friends might be in danger.”

This BLOG is in association with TryJimmy.Weebly.Com

The White Castle Exploding Toilet


   A year or two after high school, my friends and I discovered a clever way to make plastic 2-liter bottles explode using simply dry ice and water…that’s it.

We had nothing to do one night; bored to death and a bug up our ass – we were already drinking, not yet plastered but we had made ourselves pretty brave with the right amount of liquid courage.

We assembled and prepped the dry ice bomb at my house (Eaton Street) and parked the car across Calumet Avenue from White Castle in a parking lot of a bowling alley – the once ever popular, Bowl-Era.

I wore a dark blue trench coat and hid the 2-liter dry ice bomb within it. I walked through the south side entrance (main) and walked past the order windows, the employees, customers and through the dining room and straight into the men’s room.

Now, in order for me to successfully detonate the dry ice bomb, I simply had to add water – no problem, I’m in the men’s room. Unfortunately, the men’s room sink at this particular White Castle was not “2-liter friendly” at the time, so I was unable to dispense any water into the 2-liter dry ice bomb using the faucet.
I don’t remember there being a urinal in the men’s room, just a toilet. If there were a urinal, I’m sure I would have thought of a better way to put water in the 2-liter dry ice bomb than the one I’m about to share.

So here I am, in the men’s room at White Castle trying to figure out how to put water in this two liter dry ice bomb – when all of a sudden I realize something…

I could scoop the water out into the two liter dry ice bomb by cupping my hands, but that’s just nasty.

I did what I had to do, that’s all I got to say about that.

Now the plan was just to make a big “BOOM” – that’s it, nothing else. I screwed the cap back on and shoved the 2-liter dry ice bomb into the toilet. It was wedged in good and tight.
I immediately left the men’s room and locked the door behind me (I didn’t want somebody to walk in – safety first). I exited through the north doors and ran back to the waiting car at the bowling alley.

I had an accomplice that followed me in, but stood in line to place an order. They were an extra set of eyes and a possible “deterrent” if need be. From what I remember I was told this:

I saw you leave the men’s room very quickly…I knew you had done it. I was next in line, I didn’t want to order…then all of sudden…BOOM! Everybody looked at the washroom and that’s when water started pouring out from underneath the men’s room door. The manager came out from behind the counter and went to the men’s room…the door was locked. Water continued to gush out, she had to run back to the office to get the key. By this time the dining area was covered with water. When the door was finally opened she noticed that the toilet had been blown off the wall and into pieces.

In my defense, that was not supposed to happen.

This was talked about for months, if not years after. Another friend of mine doubted that a 2-liter dry ice bomb could do such damage and did not believe this story – he found out later that IT IS quite possible to cause such mayhem.


White Castle