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The Black Eyed Kids of Portland, Oregon

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Annuvin

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Jun 11, 2001, 12:28:41 AM6/11/01
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The Black-Eyed Kids
This account is Brian Bethel's account of the creepy black-eyed kids in
Portland, Oregon. Following his account is an IRC transcript of another
witness's experience.

From: "Brian Bethel" <bria...@camalott.com>
To: "Krickette" <roya...@pinn.net>,
<ghost-...@aurora.cdb.com>,
Subject: They're back.
Date: Sat, 14 Nov 1998 00:32:54 -0600

Some of you may get this twice. Sorry. I'm mass-posting this. My apologies.

In short, for those in the know (most of you): They're back. Yes, I mean
"they." Them. Those. The infamous black-eyed kids. But not to me. This time,
they've appeared to a trusted friend who didn't know my orignal story.

I'm a channel operator on the Undernet #ghosts channel. Generally a fun time
is had by all, but last night was not.

This is going to be very, very long, people. I'm sorry.

I'll repost my original story first for background. Those who've read it
hundreds of times can skip to the IRC transcript below it.
*************************************

Evil Kids
Date: Fri, 16 Jan 1998 19:12:25 -0800 (PST)
From: "Brian Bethel" (bria...@camalott.com)
To: ghost-...@lido.com
Subject: Those Darned Black-Eyed Kids

Ghosters:

Well, believe it or not, the Ram Page follow-up still languishes unfinished
on my hard drive. I don't know when I'll have it done, and I'll probably
have to break it up into multiple posts to get it in any way manageable.
Patience, I pray.

But since a lot of people seem to be requesting this one, here's some info
on those darned black-eyed kids.

I've just woken up from a mega nap. It's 1 a.m. I'll never get to sleep
again. So why not write, eh? I guess I was exhausted from too many forays
onto Sixth Street in Austin at my reporting conference.

Enjoy. Or whatever. :)

++++

I don't really know what I'd call this story if I was submitting it for
publication in Fate or something of its ilk. "Brian vs. the Evil,
Black-eyed, Possibly Vampiric or Demonic But At Least Not Bloody Normal
Kids" doesn't have much of a ring to it. (Shrug.) :)

But that's at least an accurate title.

As so many things do, it all started out innocently.

My Internet Service Provider used to have offices in a shopping center
before they moved to their (comparatively) lush accommodations elsewhere.
There was a drop box at that original location. The monthly bill was due,
and thus, there but for the Grace of the Net I went.

It was about 9:30 p.m. when I left. From my relatively isolated apartments,
it's about 10-15 minutes or so to downtown (Abilene has a population of
about 110,000).

Right next to Camalott Communications' old location is a $1.50 movie
theater. At the time, the place was featuring that masterwork of modern
film, Mortal Kombat. I drove by the theater on the way into the center
proper and pulled into an empty parking space.

Using the glow of the marquee to write out my check, I was startled to hear
a knock on the driver's-side window of my car.

I looked over and saw two children staring at me from street. I need to
describe them, with the one feature (you can guess what it was) that I
didn't realize until about half-way through the conversation cleverly
omitted.

Both appeared to be in that semi-mystical stage of life children get into
where you can't exactly tell their age. Both were boys, and my initial
impression is that they were somewhere between 10-14.

Boy No. 1 was the spokesman. Boy No. 2 didn't speak during the entire
conversation -- at least not in words.

Boy No. 1 was slightly taller than his companion, wearing a pull-over,
hooded shirt with a sort of gray checked pattern and jeans. I couldn't see
his shoes. His skin was olive-colored and had curly, medium-length brown
hair. He exuded an air of quiet confidence.

Boy No. 2 had pale skin with a trace of freckles. His primary characteristic
seemed to be looking around nervously. He was dressed in a similar manner to
his companion, but his pull-over was a light green color. His hair was a
sort of pale orange.

They didn't appear to be related, at least directly.

"Oh, great," I thought. "They're gonna hit me up for money." And then the
air changed.

I've explained this before, but for the benefit of any new lurkers out
there, right before I experience something strange, there's a change in
perception that comes about which I describe in the above manner. It's
basically enough time to know it's too late. ;)

So, there I was, filling out a check in my car (which was still running) and
in a sudden panic over the appearance of two little boys. I was confused,
but an overwhelming sense of fear and unearthliness rushed in nonetheless.

The spokesman smiled, and the sight for some inexplicable reason chilled my
blood. I could feel fight-or-flight responses kicking in. Something, I knew
instinctually, was not right, but I didn't know what it could possibly be.

I rolled down the window very, very slightly and asked "Yes?"

The spokesman smiled again, broader this time. His teeth were very, very
white.

"Hey, mister, what's up? We have a problem," he said. His voice was that of
a young man, but his diction, quiet calm and ... something I still couldn't
put my finger on ... made my desire to flee even greater. "You see, my
friend and I want to see the films, but we forgot our money," he continued.
"We need to go to our house to get it. Want to help us out?"

Okay. Journalists are required to talk to lots of people, and that includes
children. I've seen and spoken to lots of them. Here's how that usually
goes:

"Uh ... M ... M ... Mister? Can I see that camera? I ... I won't break it or
anything. I promise. My dad has a camera, and he lets me hold it sometimes,
I guess, and I took a picture of my dog -- it wasn's very good, 'cause I got
my finger in the way and ..."

Add in some feet shuffling and/or body swaying and you've got a typical kid
talking to a stranger.

In short, they're usually apologetic. People generally teach children that
when they talk to adults, they're usually bothering them for one reason or
another and they should at least be polite.

This kid was in no way fitting the mold. His command of language was
incredible and he showed no signs of fear. He spoke as if my help was a
foregone conclusion. When he grinned, it was as if he was trying to say, "I
know something ... and you're NOT gonna like it. But the only way you're
going to find out what it is will be to do what I say ..."

"Uh, well ..." was the best reply I could offer.

Now here's where it starts to get strange.

The quiet companion looked at the spokesman with a mixture of confusion and
guilt on his face. He seemed in some ways shocked, not with his friend's
brusque manner but that I didn't just immediately open the door.

He eyed me nervously.

The spokesman seemed a bit perturbed, too. I still was registering something
wrong with both.

"C'mon, mister," the spokesman said again, smooth as silk. Car salesmen
could learn something from this kid. "Now, we just want to go to our house.
And we're just two little boys."

That really scared me. Something in the tone and diction again sent off
alarm bells. My mind was frantically trying to process what it was
perceiving about the two figures that was "wrong."

"Eh. Um ...." was all I could manage. I felt myself digging my fingernails
into the steering wheel.

"What movie were you going to see?" I asked finally.

"Mortal Kombat, of course," the spokesman said. The silent one nodded in
affirmation, standing a few paces behind.

"Oh," I said. I stole a quick glance at the marquee and at the clock in my
car. Mortal Kombat had been playing for an hour, the last showing of the
evening.

The silent one looked increasingly nervous. I think he saw my glances and
suspected that I might be detecting something was not above-board.

"C'mon, mister. Let us in. We can't get in your car until you do, you know,"
the spokesman said soothingly. "Just let us in, and we'll be gone before you
know it. We'll go to our mother's house."

We locked eyes.

To my horror, I realized my hand had strayed toward the door lock (which was
engaged) and was in the process of opening it. I pulled it away, probably a
bit too violently. But it did force me to look away from the children.

I turned back. "Er ... Um ...," I offered weakly and then my mind snapped
into sharp focus.

For the first time, I noticed their eyes.

They were coal black. No pupil. No iris. Just two staring orbs reflecting
the red and white light of the marquee.

At that point, I know my expression betrayed me. The silent one had a look
of horror on his face in a combination that seemed to indicate: A) The
impossible had just happened and B) "We've been found out!"

The spokesman, on the other hand, wore a mask of anger. His eyes glittered
brightly in the half-light.

"Cmon, mister," he said. "We won't hurt you. You have to LET US IN. We don't
have a gun ..."

That last statement scared the living hell out of me, because at that point
by his tone he was plainly saying, "We don't NEED a gun."

He noticed my hand shooting down toward the gear shift. The spokesman's
final words contained an anger that was complete and whole, and yet
contained in some respects a tone of panic:

"WE CAN'T COME IN UNLESS YOU TELL US IT'S OKAY. LET ... US .... IN!"

I ripped the car into reverse (thank goodness no one was coming up behind
me) and tore out of the parking lot. I noticed the boys in my peripheral
vision, and I stole a quick glance back.

They were gone. The sidewalk by the theater was deserted.

I drove home in a heightened state of panic. Had anyone attempted to stop
me, I would have run on through and faced the consequences later.

I bolted into my house, scanning all around -- including the sky.

What did I see? Maybe nothing more than some kids looking for a ride.

And some really funky contacts. Yeah, right.

A friend suggested they were vampires, what with the old "let us in" bit and
my compelled response to open the door. That and the "we'll go see our
mother" thing.

I'm still not sure what they were, but here's an epilogue I find chilling:

I talk about Chad a lot. He's still my best friend, my best ghost-hunting
companion and an all-around cool guy. He recently moved to Amarillo, but at
the time this happened was still living in San Angelo of Ram Page fame.

I called him and talked to him briefly. He had two female friends with him
at the time, both professing some type of psychic ability.

I started telling him the story, leaving out the part about the black eyes
for the kicker. One of the women (we were on a speakerphone) stopped me.

"These children had black eyes, right?" she asked. "I mean, all-black eyes?"

"Er ... Yes." I said. I was a bit taken aback.

"Hmmm," she said. "One night last week, I had a dream about children with
black eyes. They were outside my house, wanting to be let in, but there was
something wrong with them. It took me a while to realize it was the eyes."

I hadn't even gotten as far as them wanting to come in.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I kept the doors and windows locked," she said. "I knew if they came in,
they would kill me."

She paused.

"And they would have killed you, too, if you had let them into your car."

So, from this extra-long post, we have three unanswered questions:

A) What did I see?

B) What would have happened if I opened my car door?

C) Why does Chad always get the cool psychic chicks? ;)

++++

Well, there you have it. I'll write some more later. But for now, your
comments are welcomed as always.

Brian
bria...@camalott.com
http://www.camalott.com/~brianbet/ghosts.html
**************************************************

Okay. Original's there. Now check this out:

I should preface this by saying that Jon Northwood is one of my very good
Internet friends. A gentleman of high intelligence and candor, he's an
investigator for SPIRIT, a pagan rights coordinator in his home state of
Oregon and one of the nicest fellows I've ever met. He doesn't joke around
about the paranormal.

Which is why this scares me to no end. I'm absolutely certain it's true.

Jon and I had never talked about the "black-eyed kids" before. In fact, he
wasn't aware that I had an experience like his.

He swears that all of the text below is true.

I believe him

(I'm THOTH in the transcript, by the way.)

Webmaster's note: NOTE: Most off-topic dialogue was removed for length
considerations, dialogue lines were rearranged for easier readability, and
minor grammatical errors were corrected.

<JonNrthwd> So, do any of y'all really believe in ghosts? Or, for that
matter, kids with funny eyes? (shiver -- never again, in downtown Portland
at night . . .)
<Lykaon> kids with....wha?...
<Thoth> Er ... Jon. You know I do. And I believe in kids with funny eyes,
too. ;)
<Thoth> Did you see some?
<Nancy-> Well, I guess I believe in ghosts. And I have seen kids with funny
eyes. :-)
<JonNrthwd> Yes -- a week ago -- downtown Portland about 2330.
<Lykaon> i believe in ghosts....kids...like the ones from village of the
damned?...
<Thoth> Indeed. Do tell, Master Northwood.
<Lykaon> it was like a bunch of 6-8 year olds with glowing white eyes...
* Thoth hmmms. (The children he saw had black eyes. Assuming, of course,
they had eyes at all.)
<Hellraisr> ah I remember that Thoth
<Hellraisr> remember u telling it
<Lykaon> jeez!
<Thoth> It was most disturbing.
<Lykaon> just regular kids but with black eyes...
<JonNrthwd> I was in downtown Portland (Oregon) after a seminar series on
software development. I'd grabbed a bite of dinner about 10pm, and when I
left it was about 11(ish). I'd grabbed a bite of dinner about 10pm, and
when I left it was about 11(ish).
<JonNrthwd> I'd gotten in my car, locked and belted up and just started the
engine when someone tapped on my window.
<Thoth> This sounds ... incredibly familiar, Jon.
<JonNrthwd> I was in an above-ground garage on the third floor, so I wasn't
too freaked (good lighting, still some people around).
<JonNrthwd> It was one of the guys from the conference, so I rolled down my
window and asked him what was up.
<JonNrthwd> He wanted a ride around the block a few times, as he was freaked
about who was standing outside his car.
<JonNrthwd> I figured (so sue me) that it was some of Portland's homeless,
or some punker kids. So, being a good Samaritan, I let him in and we took
off.
<JonNrthwd> We drove by his car, and there were three kids around it, two
boys and a girl.
<JonNrthwd> The girl was . . . weird. Just freaky. Y'know, clothes and
hair and makeup -- Goth-O-Matic. <g>
<JonNrthwd> The two kids were . . . I dunno . . . just scary as shit.
<Lykaon> thats goths for ya..heh..
<Lykaon> how old roughly?...
<JonNrthwd> She was probably fourteen or fifteen, the oldest boy was
probably fourteen(ish) and the youngest between ten and twelve.
<JonNrthwd> She looked bored and was smoking a cigarette, the two boys were
just leaning against the car.
<JonNrthwd> They looked _way_ too intense for kids.
<JonNrthwd> Anyway, I started itching behind my eyes, like I needed to
really look at them, so, like an ass, I slowed down.
<JonNrthwd> BIG mistake.
<JonNrthwd> The two boys sauntered over and the girl stayed against the car.
<JonNrthwd> The eldest was on Doug's side (the guy from the seminar) and the
youngest was on mine.
<JonNrthwd> I made sure the doors were locked (I love electronic locks) and
asked why they were standing around his car.
<JonNrthwd> The young one said "It's scary out there all alone, and we just
wanted a ride home."
<JonNrthwd> The eldest one said "You promised you'd help us out" and Doug
said "I don't even _know_ you."
<JonNrthwd> By this time, I was really on edge -- I felt caught between
throwing up and jazzing -- adrenaline does that to me.
<JonNrthwd> All of a sudden Doug said he was getting out of the car, and I
told him not to. As soon as he reached for the handle, the two kids . . . I
don't know how to say this right . . . they looked a _lot_ older.
<JonNrthwd> Their faces were somewhat drawn, and their eyes were _solid_
black. Edge to edge -- no pupil, no iris -- nothing. Just a liquid black
pool.
<JonNrthwd> I just about wet myself, slapped the car into reverse and burned
rubber backing about sixty feet away. They started running after the car,
so I spun around one of the support struts and we took off. I kid you
not -- I was convinced that if they got ahold of the car, I was going to
die -- and not in anything approaching a pleasant fashion.
<JonNrthwd> Anyway, the oldest one was at the bottom of the garage when we
came out, and almost made it to my side door.
<Lykaon> preservation instinct prevails yet again...
<JonNrthwd> We'd gone down from the third floor doing thirty-ish, maybe
thirty-five around the ramp. He'd _beaten_ us down the stairs and onto the
sidewalk.
<JonNrthwd> Anyway, we left him on the corner, and when I turned to look --
nothing. He was gone.
<JonNrthwd> Doug just about passed out.
<JonNrthwd> All of a sudden, the feeling of menace -- left.
<Lykaon> i've never heard of a sighting of those entities in human bodies
tho i've had my speculation on the fact that it could happen...
<Hellraisr> did you ever go back there?
<JonNrthwd> We went back about ten minutes later, nobody was around his car.
<JonNrthwd> He got out, got in his car, and drove home.
<JonNrthwd> He'd said that he had met the young one earlier in the evening,
and had said he'd take him home -- had even given him a short ride in his
car to the seminar and told him to wait. Apparently, though, the older
brother scared him, so he felt that all bets were off.
<JonNrthwd> I was behind him about forty-five feet when the feeling of
*menace* hit again. At that moment, Doug misjudged going across an
intersection on a yellow light and his car was hit by a truck. He was
killed instantly.
<JonNrthwd> I gave a police report, and the whole time, felt _really_
freaked out and very exposed.
<The_JAmis> that's one freaky ass story :/
<JonNrthwd> I got back to my car, got in, locked the door, and waited.
<JonNrthwd> I saw the kids again, from about two blocks away.
<Hellraisr> wow
<JonNrthwd> I'm not making it up -- I'm not thinking they were "vampires" or
something like that, but they weren't as pale, they weren't as skinny, and
they felt a damn sight more menacing. I left, quickly.
<JonNrthwd> My only concern now, though, is that this upcoming Wednesday I'm
going back to the area for another seminar, and I won't be leaving until
9:30.
<JonNrthwd> I'm _freaked out_, people.

As was I, for obvious reasons.

Okay, now, the commentary:

I've been haunted -- no pun intended -- by this story ever since I decided
to share it. Rather than the ridicule I expected, it seems that it touches
some sort of strange, primal chord in people.

I've been trying, of course, to move beyond and forget these events, but
inevitably something comes along to remind me of it.

Apparently, I've become something of an urban legend. I have people ask me
all the time on the Net: "Hey, did you read the ghost story about the guy
who saw the black-eyed kids who wanted to get in his car?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"Really? Cool!"

"Not exactly."

And that's something I can't seem to get the point across about. This was
not "cool." It was not "just like being in a Stephen King novel!" or any of
the inane comments that sometimes go along with it. It was real, though
sometimes it made me feel crazy.

And now, I have a report from someone I trust that an extremely similar
event has occurred -- and even resulted in the death of someone, at least
indirectly.

In a word: Help?

I need thoughts. I need ideas. I need to calm down. ;) But beyond that ... I
just want to know what people think about this?

I've protected myself in my own manner. I am not worried about any danger to
me. But this is too close to what I experienced to be mere coincidence.

Your thoughts are welcomed.

Brian

Copyright©1999 by Brian Bethel
bria...@camalott.com
http://www.camalott.com/~brianbet/ghosts.html


Harvestwind

unread,
Jun 14, 2001, 12:48:49 AM6/14/01
to
Man..I came across this newsgroup by accident as I am moving to
Portland in a few months and I was just doing a little general
research about the city. I was stunned to read about the incidents
with the creepy black eyed kid's because I had a similar incident
happen to me, while visiting Portland in August of 2000.

My girlfriend and I were staying at the hostel on Glisan Ave in NW
Portland. It's a very nice place in a hip and fun, if a little
yuppyish section of town. Anyway, it was a Friday night, actually
early Saturday morning. April, my girlfriend, and I were up
socializing with another couple from England, sharing some laughs and
playing some songs..I had my guitar with me. Well, at about 2:30 AM,
we suddenly realized that there was no more beer left and none of us
really felt like calling it a night just yet. Well April reminded me
that I had bought a couple of bottles of Pinot Noir from a little
place called the City Market earlier in the day, but they were still
in the trunk of her car. So she tossed me the keys and I ventured out
to make the hike to where the car was parked.

There is a sort of a "good luck finding a spot to park" policy at the
hostel, so we ended up parking in a spot off a side street about four
blocks from the hostel. It's not really a bad area, nightlife was
still winding down not too far away from the hostel, and I could hear
the random noises of revelry off in the distance. But as I walked to
the car, I found myself feeling very alone.

As I turned down the street to where the car was parked, a misty rain
filled the air, not really drops, but a kind of misty directionless
rain. The streetlights lit my path and reflected their dim glow in the
wet pavement. As I reached the car and slid my keys into the trunk
latch, I heard this voice call out. "Hey mister". Thinking I was
alone, and not having seen anyone as I was walking down the street, I
was very startled, and I whirled around to be greeted by the face of
an adolescent who gazed at me intently from just a few feet away.

I was really unnerved and by reflex I jumped back then grabbed my
chest and said something like, "Jesus man, you just scared the shit
out of me". The kid just kept looking at me undaunted. He appeared to
be between the age of 11-14. And he wore old jeans and a hooded
sweatshirt. His hair was black and his skin was tan. He had a
Mediterranean look about him. It was then that I noticed that his eyes
were all black. My first thought was that he was on LSD because I know
that that can dilate your pupils and give that type of appearance. But
this kid didn't seem to be on a drug, he seemed very calm and
confident. It was kind of unnerving to have a kid act like that.

He said, without looking away, "I'm lost and scared, do you think you
could give me a ride to my mom's house?" But this kid didn't look
scared at all. Masked behind those youthful features, was the
expression of a wolf leering at me. I'm a fit 28-year-old man, and
what I felt was real fear. He kept moving closer and closer to me.

Quickly I broke eye contact...It was difficult though because those
eyes were compelling. Deep pools of black, they looked ageless in
contract to that young face. They stared at me reflecting the
streetlights. It was like gazing up at a star sprent sky on a clear
night.

"I backed off up onto the curb and stammered, "Uh no..Really I can't,
I have to go..Sorry". I kept looking at the ground because I had the
feeling that if I kept looking at his black eyes I would become
trapped like a fly in a spider's web.

I heard him say.."Oh that's OK, here come my friends." I quickly
looked up past him down the road and I saw another young boy and a
girl about a block further down in the middle of the street. I didn't
have my glasses on and I have trouble seeing clearly off that far. But
I'll be damned if it didn't look like they were floating towards us a
couple of inches off the ground.

I turned around to run and I heard a guttural growling behind me. I
ran faster than I ever ran in my life straight towards the hostel. I
kept feeling like they were right there, behind me..clawing at the
back of my neck....I will never forget that feeling as long as I live.
It was the closest I ever experienced to true terror.

When the hostel was in sight I finally looked back and I found myself
alone. I kept running though and didn't stop until I was again with my
friends. They were all surprised to see me panting bending over. They
asked, "What happened?", "Where's the wine?". I collapsed on the floor
and didn't speak until I regained my composure. Suddenly I felt
ashamed that I ran from a group of kids. I never told them what
happened; I told them that some thugs tried to start a fight...

Obviously, at that point I no longer felt like socializing and I told
my friends that I wanted to retire for the evening. So April and I
went to our room. Despite the warmth I insisted on shutting the window
and closing the curtains. I didn't sleep a wink..

I never told anyone what really happened until now. When I read that
story my blood ran cold and all my hair stood on end. I'm still moving
there this fall

Krickette

unread,
Jun 14, 2001, 11:46:32 PM6/14/01
to
On 13 Jun 2001 21:48:49 -0700, harve...@home.com (Harvestwind)
wrote:

>Man..I came across this newsgroup by accident as I am moving to
>Portland in a few months and I was just doing a little general
>research about the city. I was stunned to read about the incidents
>with the creepy black eyed kid's because I had a similar incident
>happen to me, while visiting Portland in August of 2000.


This is an awesome story, I can understand how scared you were.
Something is very weird in that city but it is also home to the
largest group of homeless children in the United States. It makes one
wonder what underground organization/sect might be at work to exploit
those kids.

Are you still planning to move there? Just wondering. Thanks for the
story, it really gave me the chills.

email: remove NOSPAMOrama in my email addy
Krickette of the undernet

Join us in the #Ghosts channel on the undernet
*..*^^* tHiNgS tHaT gO bUmP iN tHe nIgHt *^^*..*
http://www.ghostchat.org

Harvestwind

unread,
Jun 15, 2001, 12:53:52 PM6/15/01
to
royaloakN...@pinn.net (Krickette) wrote in message news:<3b29837f...@news.pinn.net>...

> On 13 Jun 2001 21:48:49 -0700, harve...@home.com (Harvestwind)
> wrote:
>
> This is an awesome story, I can understand how scared you were.
> Something is very weird in that city but it is also home to the
> largest group of homeless children in the United States. It makes one
> wonder what underground organization/sect might be at work to exploit
> those kids.

Thanks, but it is more than just a story. Still, to this day, I have
been putting the incident out of my memory or rationilizing what
happened. I had finally written it off to an overactive imagination
until I came across the previous accounts. Those creatures are out
there, and I have no idea who or what they are..

>
> Are you still planning to move there? Just wondering. Thanks for the
> story, it really gave me the chills.

Yup, April already lives there and I'm going to visit this July and we
are going to look for an apartment or a small house. I'm a little
freaked out by the whole thing, but hey, what are the chances of it
happening again to me, right?

Harvestwind

Jon Northwood

unread,
Jun 17, 2001, 8:27:41 PM6/17/01
to
harve...@home.com (Harvestwind) wrote in message news:<d4f73861.01061...@posting.google.com>...

> I never told anyone what really happened until now. When I read that
> story my blood ran cold and all my hair stood on end. I'm still moving
> there this fall

Hmmm ... feel free to drop me a line when you've completed the move.
I can "clue you in" to some of the better hot spots in the Portland
area.

~ Jon

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