Rescuers work the wreck of Albert Camus' custom-built Facel Vega automobile outside of Paris, France after it crashed into a tree at approximately 80 mph in 1957. Camus, aged 46, passed away at the scene; his friend, publisher, & driver of the car, Michel Gallimard, died a few days later.

This photograph shows the wreck of the Facel Vega automobile that ended the life of French philosopher and writer Albert Camus. On January 4, 1960, Camus was traveling with his friend and publisher Michel Gallimard when the car veered off the road and slammed into a tree at nearly 80 mph outside of Paris. Camus, just 46 years old, was killed instantly. Gallimard succumbed to his injuries a few days later.

Camus, awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1957, was one of the most influential thinkers of the 20th century. Known for works such as The Stranger and The Myth of Sisyphus, he explored themes of absurdity, meaning, and human resilience. His death was not only a tragedy for French intellectual life but also a moment that left readers worldwide stunned.

In the aftermath, a haunting detail emerged: in his briefcase was an unused train ticket. Camus had originally planned to return to Paris by rail but decided to ride in Gallimard’s car at the last moment. To many, this twist seemed like a cruel echo of the very absurdity Camus had spent his career writing about.

Added Fact: When police examined the wreckage, they discovered the unfinished manuscript of Camus’ final novel, The First Man, in the back seat. The handwritten pages were later recovered and published posthumously in 1994. The book, semi-autobiographical in nature, offered a deeply personal exploration of Camus’ childhood in Algeria and was seen by many scholars as his most intimate and mature work, one that might have marked a new direction in his philosophy had he lived.

 

 

In 1860, after 21 years of marriage and six children, Elizabeth Packard was locked in an Illinois asylum.

Not for violence. Not for instability. But for disagreeing with her husband’s beliefs. Under the law, a man needed no proof, no trial, not even his wife’s consent to declare her insane.

Inside the asylum, Elizabeth uncovered a cruel truth: many women around her were not “mad” at all. They were wives who resisted, daughters who defied, women who spoke too boldly.

Where others broke, Elizabeth sharpened her pen. She wrote. She observed. She waited.

After three years, she finally stood in court — and defended her right to think for herself. She won her freedom. But she didn’t stop there.

In books, speeches, and campaigns to lawmakers, she exposed the abuses of asylums and fought to reform laws that gave men unchecked power over women.

Elizabeth Packard nearly lost her life as she knew it. But her defiance changed the law — securing protections for generations of women to come.

Credit goes to the respective owner.

 Mugshot of Bertha Boronda, the woman who was arrested for cutting off her husband's pen*s with a razor in 1907.

I came across this woman's cool obit again, yesterday.

 

I like to think this might have been the wonderful place "Holly Blair" might have lived with all her marvelous pets.

 

I admit, I tried this. Surprisingly, it was pretty good and just a tiny bit reminiscent of a quiche, which I do like very much.

 

This just speaks for itself, no explanation, no apology. It is what it is.

 

Found in an old abandoned house, they were all just sitting, waiting. . . 

 

I've walked a road much like this in the moonlight when I visited my grandparents who lived in the country. It was silent, and the moon was glowing with an eerie but calming light. The town cemetery was within sight and silent, yet a little unsettling. I knew people who resided there. I often wondered if I too, would one day join them in my own endless sleep.

Autumn Along Meadow Run

 

Privacy is power. It is then that treasured memories, wishful thinking, and thoughts I do not wish to share are examined, loved, or mourned, and allowed to grow or cease to be. 

 

One of my favorite things, walking in the rain.

 

 

 

 

 

When I first heard this, I knew that it was either the truth or very close to it.

Big News, This Changes Everything!

A well known individual (who wishes to stay anonymous) has stepped up with an incredible offer:

If we can get the GoFundMe to $600,000, they’ll personally contribute $400,000 to help save the Conjuring House.

And as promised, I’m matching donations as well.

That means if we hit $600K, this community will have raised well above the $1.3 million, giving us our best chance yet to preserve this historic property for generations to come.

We’ve already proven what we can do together, now it’s time to finish it.

Every dollar and every share matters right now.

Let’s make history — together.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/the-conjuring-house

Transparency Note: The additional $400,000 contribution is a private pledge, not affiliated with GoFundMe, and will be made directly if the campaign reaches $600,000.

If the house isn’t saved, all donations will be refunded.

#SaveTheConjuringHouse #TogetherWeCan #ParanormalHistory

 

They called her “the most beautiful woman to ever d-e.” On May 1st, 1947, Evelyn McHale stepped off the Empire State Building and landed on a parked limousine, without a single drop of blood or a broken bone in sight.

Her legs were delicately crossed. Her gloved hands clutched her pearls. Her expression? Peaceful. Serene. Almost like she was asleep. A young photography student just happened to be nearby. He snapped a photo before police arrived, and captured what would become one of the most haunting images of the 20th century.

Time Magazine published it. Andy Warhol reimagined it. And decades later, people are still captivated by the chilling perfection of that moment. No horror. No chaos. Just a quiet, impossible stillness… frozen in time. They never saw it coming. But the world would never forget it.