Art Bell’s Ghost to Ghost episode features callers sharing unsettling paranormal encounters: Philip witnessed five windows slam shut and candles move during a 1991 funeral, Dean recalls childhood ghostly visions in Key West and the 1920s-like cloud scene, Mary Ann describes a spectral man using her phone post-1989 death and her mother’s apparition in 1997 with verified insurance details. Corey finds Civil War-era boots vanishing in Tennessee, Liddy hears a voice predicting her father’s 1976 murder, and Tony feels a non-human foot under his couch at age 14. Bell insists these stories—including the debated 2000 CNN entity—demand serious consideration as evidence of phenomena beyond conventional explanation. [Automatically generated summary]
From the high desert in the great American Southwest, I bid you all good evening or good morning wherever you may be across this great land of Iris.
From the Sahajan and Hawaiian Island chains in the west, eastward to the Caribbean and the U.S. Virgin Islands south, all the way to South America north to the Poland worldwide on the old internet.
This is coast to ghosts.
That's ghost to ghosts A.M. Alright, this is actually a very interesting night.
We do it a few times a year now because it is so popular and for a really good reason.
All we do all night long is tell ghost stories.
Only there is usually not a big laugh at the end.
because these are real.
I can have a guest all night long.
You are the only guest that will be here all night long.
And the stories, well, they're up to you.
But I have found over the months and years now that there is never, ever a shortage of ghost stories.
Why are ghosts important?
Well, because they answer the big question.
They answer the big one, don't they?
In other words, if there is life after death, if there is an existence after the physical existence, well then obviously a ghost or a demon or whatever's in the night, and it is usually in the night, in the dark, well then that sort of proves all of that, doesn't it?
Now, some of this is going to be scary stuff.
It always is.
So standard warning.
No, I mean, it is scary.
So we're going to invite you, all of you, to pick up the telephone here shortly and tell us your ghost story.
And when all of the evidence is amassed of this five hours added to all the other five-hour programs I've done on this subject, to not believe is nearly impossible.
Now, last night I got a call that I want to deal with very quickly before we get underway.
But those of you who listened to the program last night may have heard a caller who said, hey, Art, did you see the Democrats' debate?
Which I did not, by the way.
I saw the CNN recap of the debate.
That was enough.
But he said, oh, God, Art, you've got to see it, because right in between the two candidates, Gore and Bradley, if you look between them, there's no question about it, there's an evil entity that you can see.
And oh my God, there is.
Now, this evil entity between the two major political candidates for the Democrat nomination, it's all over the net.
It's on all kinds of news groups.
It's all over the net today since that man was on my show last night.
Not only can you see it in the still grab of the picture from the debate, which we now have on our website right now, in the night, in the dark.
God, it's an eerie picture.
It was a time CNN election 2000 debate.
And if you look, and I mean, if you, I kind of joked with a guy, and I said, which way was the entity looking?
More toward Gore or more toward Bradley?
And he said, right in the middle.
And I went, okay, send me a copy.
Well, boy, did I get copies?
And then it just, during the day, it spread all over the net.
And so, of course, we have a copy for you on the website tonight.
In the cold, in the dark.
So I mean, make of this what you will.
If that's not an evil entity, I don't know what the hell it is.
Now, I suppose I could solicit a guy from NASA who would come on and say, well, it's just a trick of light and shadows.
And you can say, I guess, it's just a trick of light and shadows.
But I'll tell you what, this trick of light and shadows was seen and can be seen during the video of the event, if you happen to tape it, or during the live event itself, or here in a still photograph.
I'm sure the Pixel people will come out in droves.
And this is not a political comment.
Had this occurred between Bush and McCain, I'd be putting it up on my website because it's a mind-blower.
So, much as many of you will no doubt think it's a political comment, it's not.
It's just a kaboom picture.
I mean, if this is not an evil entity, it looks evil, then I don't know what the hell it is.
That might be the right phrase for it, too.
Hell.
I don't know.
I have no idea what it is.
I've got a couple of kind of interesting stories that I want to read you, very short, that have been sent in.
And you're welcome to send them in.
Now, you know, the really long ones, I just don't have time to read them.
But if you want to send a ghost story by email, you can do that.
If you want to send a ghost photograph, and here's where the real work comes in for my webmaster.
Keith, of course, is with me during the night, in the dark, the cold.
And I'm going to tell you, if you have a good ghost photograph and you have it scanned or you can scan it, then we will accept and begin to post ghost photographs as we get them during the night tonight.
Where to send them, you ask.
Answer?
Send them to webmaster at artbell.com.
That's it.
Webmaster at artbell.com.
And Keith will take the best.
Now we're only looking for the very best of the ghost photographs.
And we sure are starting out tonight with a bang with this thing from the Democrat convention or a debate.
This is just effing unbelievable, you know?
I mean, it really is.
If you're going to see this, you really have to see it.
It's on my website now.
As you send them in, we will take the best of the lot and please only send the good ones and we will post them.
Not everything is going to get posted.
The best candidates will.
But since that guy called last night, the net is alive with this photograph.
Everybody inside that church froze in disbelief because there was no one around anywhere near the windows.
There wasn't an air draft because there wasn't any wind.
And there was a bit of distance in between the last aisle window and the two windows that were up beside the altar.
These two windows also shut in direct timing as though someone were walking slowly to shut the windows.
And so a final boom, boom, as they closed.
By then, this had gotten the parish priest's attention as the two candles at the front of the coffin burnt toward the left side of the church.
The flame then came back into a straight-up position.
The priest quickly stopped the service, walked to the coffin, blessed it while anointing the coffin with holy water.
He seemed to be rather perplexed about the whole matter, as everyone attending the service were all shaken up by what had just transpired.
No other incident happened during the priest's blessings.
The priest stood in front of the coffin while murmuring a few inaudible words.
He then had us say our father once.
He went back to the altar, resumed the service, and gave me the signal that was to start my reading from the Bible.
After the service, my brother-in-law's mother asked the parish priest what had just happened.
And he quickly told her that was a manifestation, but would not get into any other details.
Thanks for your attention to the letter, signed Philip.
A French last name from Montreal.
Give it on the air.
And then there's one more here.
and i'm not sure what you're going to make of this A brief bio.
My timeline.
Born and raised in Southern California, six years paid call firefighter, six years security police, U.S. Air Force, Lowry Air Force Base, Lunsan Air Force Base, Wright Pat Air Force Base, Ontario Air National Guard, formerly Air Defense Command, five years as a police officer in Southern California.
And I now own a telecommunications business.
And about four years ago, I moved my family to the Mojave Desert.
I like to watch the stars and breathe air, if you know what I mean.
I do.
And now his story.
Dear Art, there's a little bit of language in this, folks, so a little bad language, so get the kids out of the room.
It really has to be said because it's in context.
Dear Art, in the fall of 1977, I was a young airman assigned to the 8th Tactical Fighter Squadron, Kusan Air Force Base, Korea.
As you know, the enlisted barracks on most air bases resemble a Motel 6.
I know.
This was almost the case at Kusan.
We were two airmen to a room, typical, two beds, two chest of drawers, and one refrigerator.
That's a luxury.
My roommate was a good friend and quite a character.
He snored and sleepwalked, talked in his sleep, and then snored some more.
This was pretty much his routine sack time.
We usually hit the sack about the same time every night at about 2,200 hours.
That, folks, translates to about 10 o'clock at night.
The night that would change my life forever was no exception.
First, you must know a little history about Kunzan and the bloody battles that were fought there for more than 40 years or 40 years ago.
During the Korean conflict, Kunzan was an important seaport south of Seoul along the coast of the Yellow Sea.
Both sides battled fiercely to control this area throughout the war, and many soldiers on both sides, as well as civilians, lost their lives.
Many atrocities were reported to have been committed against the captured Allied forces and sympathetic civilians.
Out of respect for the families of the many victims, I will not comment any further about the war.
After the war, a joint South Korean and American Air Force base was built over the old military site.
As I stated, it was late in the fall of 1977 for two nights in a row.
I'd been awakened from a deep sleep at exactly 0,100 hours, 1 o'clock in the morning.
There was no loud noise, no alert aircraft taken off, nothing to account for the sudden state of consciousness.
Each time, I slowly opened my eyes, looked at my digital clock on the dresser, and with the soft light coming through the windows, I could see my roommate sleeping soundly across the room.
Each time, I lay there in bed and listened for an intruder.
I arose and cleared the room, making sure everything was secure.
It was on the third night that I was again separated from my sleep.
Again, it was exactly 0,100 hours.
As before, I didn't move, listen to the sounds of an intruder again.
Nothing.
Nothing, except this time, the feeling was different.
Something was wrong.
All of my senses were screaming at me.
Kind of like just before you kick in a door on a drug bust.
Well, a cop would know about that.
I glanced around the room, every muscle tense, ready to defend myself.
It was then that I saw it, and I can only describe it as a male figure in many shades of gray.
He appeared to be of Korean descent, 5'2, stocky build, wearing long pants and a shirt, open vest.
He was standing in the middle of the room and facing the wall where my bed was.
I just laid there as still as I could, and I visually searched him for a weapon, saw none.
He looked more like a farmer than anything else.
After a long moment, he moved forward to the foot of my bed, turned facing me, and slid sideways between my bed and my roommate's dresser.
As he did this, I reached under my mattress and pulled out my bunk knife.
Most of my body was still under the covers when the intruders stopped and just stared at me.
I stared back, my right hand firmly holding the knife with a closed fist and the open blade facing forward.
It seemed like a lifetime.
But in those milliseconds, my mind raced.
Could this be a lost civilian employee?
Maybe he's drunk, just a harmless old man.
Then I remembered who I was and the sensitive assignment that I was chosen to perform.
I cursed the system for not allowing off-duty cops to carry their firearms.
I surmised that this was an assassin, a Korean national paid to silence a young, idealistic American, high-end me, who had gone deep undercover to discover how millions of dollars a month in supplies found their way off base.
We'll save that story for another time.
He just stood there, his arms at his sides, down at my feet, and I just lay there ready to strike.
Then it happened.
In an instant, the man leaned forward and reached out both of his hands.
I responded with every ounce of strength I had, arched my back, and with one fluid movement, I slammed my backside down into the bed and flew forward, bringing my knife up in a tight arc, in a slashing motion, across the man's throat.
I didn't miss.
I couldn't have missed.
Why didn't my hand hurt?
Where was the blood?
I fell back onto my bed and just sat there trying to process what had happened.
My knife hand flew right through his neck.
It was at that moment that I realized that he was translucent.
I was able to eke out a holy S-H-A asterisk T. My heart was in my throat.
I could feel it pounding.
As I fell back from my failed attempt, the spirit stood straight up, brought his hands to his sides, leaned forward, and what I can only describe as a startled look, he cocked his head to the left, just stared at me for about five seconds, and then with both hands reached down and touched the blanket that was still covering my feet.
I felt the blanket tighten over my toes, and this lasted for about three seconds.
Then he stood erect, slid out from the foot of my bed, and turned to the left, facing the windows, and moved forward.
Continuing forward, he elevated about three feet into the air and vanished without a trace.
And for privacy reasons, there's a little more that I'll hold back.
My name is Dean, and I just thank you so much for giving a voice to stories like this because this is really the first time I'll be able to really have ever really told the whole thing.
And it started out really when I was four years old.
And I've kind of, in the sense, I've had that sixth sense about, you know, thinking I've seen things that maybe be in tricks of light or like that and shadow.
But yet, as I get older and as I get a clarity now, I see things for what they truly were.
And when I was four years old, let me just take you back quickly to I was in Key West, Florida, and it was a time where I didn't have a television or even saw a movie until I was six years old.
So I didn't have that whole environment blemishing my mind.
And I was living in Key West, Florida at the time.
It was literally an Ernest Hemingway novel.
And when I was four years old, I remember walking out the back of my grandfather's house and being literally blinded by the sun.
Well, in Key West, Florida, that's nothing an occurrence or anything like that.
But the thing that shocked me so much was the color of the blindness.
It was almost like a rainbow effect.
Well, as I turned, I remember as I was turning one way to just get that out of my vision, I was suddenly then blinded by the sun.
And to me, that was such a shock because the first thing I think is I'm seeing the sun or a rainbow effect.
And even as a four-year-old child, I remember the first thing I remember doing is just automatically reacting by looking to my left, and bam, the sun hits me.
I remember then reacting back, going back to what I saw initially, and it was gone.
And it was just until recently that I really just started to see a real clear picture of what it was.
I think it's one of the, it's literally at the sixth sense I think we have is when we're a small child and we're uninhibited by so many of the societies.
In other words, without having yet had our minds shaped and filtered by the media, TV, and all the rest of it, we're open to all of that until the door slammed shut.
unidentified
Exactly.
And I'll tell you what, then after that, it was almost, it was an amazing thing.
I went to kindergarten, and I'm sitting there.
I can remember sitting in kindergarten on a swing set.
I'm five years old, still haven't gone to the TV route yet, in a private kindergarten of all the things.
But I'm off in a little corner just swinging away, and I don't hear the bell, right?
I'm kind of off in my little world.
And I remember suddenly stopping and realizing that there is nobody out there, and it's just literally dead silent.
It went from like 500 kids to zero, just me.
And I can remember the stillness being so just, it was like almost like silence truly has a sound.
I remember looking up in the sky, and literally in the same color and the transparency, I am then given almost a short movie on a cloud, and it looks like the back scene of a back alley or like a 1920s scene.
And I remember as a child just being stunned by watching this and thinking, what am I watching?
Because it was almost like watching almost like a 1920s back galley of what life was wanted there.
Now, if there's any sanctuary in the world, we all know it's the bed where you can pull the covers over.
unidentified
Well, you know, the thing with sisters, of course, you know, when someone gets up in the night and they're walking back into bed and you can hear them breathing funny and walking up, trying to get back into bed.
Well, many times it would, my sister also had the same thing happen when she would stay in the back room, and she said something gets grabbed her and get into bed.
Okay, another time I was sitting watching television, and I have a corner cabinet, and I looked up, and I saw the screen film on the corner cabinet, and it was like screen smoke.
And I watched it, and what is that?
And I'm looking, and I'm trying to see if there's something from outside flashing, and there was nothing.
And it went behind my cabinet.
So I asked a friend, and she said, that's what ghosts make as they're walking.
But I must say, in so many ways, that really bothers me because, I mean, the implication is that you die in a house and you remain there forevermore.
I mean, that isn't really our idea, the Christian idea of an afterlife, to be unseen and only occasionally, apparently heard or seen as green slime, and to continue in that way.
It's just too much to think about.
unidentified
Well, I do believe my mother is still around because when my aunt came in one weekend and we were sitting in the front room, and we could smell like, my mother would cook spaghetti sauce every time anybody came in.
I have a Native American friend, and she told me that it may have been someone who years and years ago was killed in this area, and his ghost still walks through the area.
And she says, because of the house, there could be a portal.
It's actually ghost to ghost a.m. with Art Bell, and that's all we're doing all night long.
The stories are from all of you.
Ghost stories.
Real ghost stories.
As the first hour just demonstrated graphically.
Now, how much synchronicity do you all believe in?
I believe in some.
Not that much.
Last night, a man called the program.
Many of you will have heard it.
And he said, hey, Art, did you know that there was a ghost or a demon right between Al Gore and Bill Bradley in the debate on television?
And I said, no.
And he said, yes, it's a demon.
And I said, okay, fine.
Send me something.
I'll take a look.
And it's all over the World Wide Web today.
I mean, it's all, since that man called last night, it's everywhere.
And right now it's on my website.
And I'll be damned if it's not that.
I may be damned anyway.
But it's, first of all, I want to assure you this is not political.
Had this apparition appeared in a McCain-Bush debate, I'd have it up there tonight too, but it didn't.
It's in this one.
And for all you pixel people who think somebody went to Photoshop and whopped this one up, wrong.
They didn't.
This was visible on the videotape itself.
It was visible live during the show.
And somebody, well, actually, many somebodies, have grabbed the picture, and it's on my website right now, and it's a blowaway.
There is something that would appear to be an entity between these two men.
I joked with him last night, saying, which way was he looking, you know, more toward Bradley or toward Gore?
And he said, no, right down the middle.
And he's right.
Right down the middle.
Now, this would be the kind of thing that I'm sure that we could have a NASA expert on who would, you know, explain away as trick of light and shadows.
But it seems like an awful lot of synchronicity to me since we were doing Ghost to Ghost tonight.
Since that one man got through, since that one man told me about this, since it's all over the net now.
You've got to see this all.
So anyway, we're telling ghost stories.
More of that coming up.
If you want to see the photograph, it's at www.artbell.com.
Oh, and one more thing.
If you have a good ghost photograph, and it's hard to believe we're going to get one better than the one they gave us in that political debate, this thing is incredible.
But if you have a good ghost photo, send it to webmaster at artbell.com right now.
Webmaster at artbell.com.
Keith will receive and kind of pour through and pick the best of the bunch.
And we'll get those up during the period of the night, the program tonight, and go take a look.
Okay, my best shot is one that actually happened to me.
I was with a friend of mine out in a field near where I live in Knoxville.
And we were walking around.
We had our BB guns.
And we'd heard stories that where we were at was a place where there was a lot of Civil War action.
I don't know if that's actually true or not.
I've not been able to find any authenticity of that.
But we were on what would be described as a logging road.
And we were walking down through there.
We were talking about the possibility of graves around there and stuff.
And we looked up, and there were a pair of boots that were, you know, we saw them at first, they started walking towards us, and all they were were boots.
You're on a road, and there's a pair of boots without a body, nor legs, nor anything else, walking toward you.
unidentified
Right.
And if you've ever been to any type of museum that has Civil War uniforms and stuff like that, they resembled the boots that you would see with those type uniforms.
They were dusty.
They weren't polished or anything like that.
They appeared to be old, like they'd been used.
They walked up.
They were walking towards us.
We kind of froze.
We didn't know what to do.
This was a few years, you know, quite a few years back.
All right, you know, as I'm trying to consider the prospect of spirits beyond life, I absolutely understand that a human mind, we have very complex minds, and it may well be that when somebody close to you dies, there's a blast of energy that, and because we hear all these stories of people who literally feel it when somebody close to them dies or know it in some way.
But when you add the dimension of a phone ringing and somebody telling you that your father has been shot and is dead, then you've crossed the line from what a living human brain can do, in my opinion, or might be able to do if you stretch your imagination, into an entire other area, the kind of area that I've been talking about tonight.
unidentified
Oh, definitely.
You know, I totally agree.
I mean, as a nine-year-old, you know, clearly I'm open to so many different things, you know, and I don't have all these preconceived notions of anything.
And, yeah, yeah.
And the only one that can back up my story is my uncle who said that I did call him before anything really happened.
But no one so far has, you know, admitted to calling me.
And the boundary, to me, is the ability, the artifact of a living human brain.
Call it telepathy, call it whatever you want to call it, but when you add this dimension of the physical, the physicality of a phone ringing with a strange voice telling you something that it would not be possible for you to be told at that time.