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The first was when I was a child. I grew up in Kansas City suburbs. My first real friend, and still friends with to this day, was a girl. She lived across the street and up two houses. We used to play all over the neighborhood. This is long before the days of helicopter parenting... we were out of the house before lunch, came back to eat, and then would be out until dinner, then back out again, with very little adult supervision.
We had a neighbor who lived a street or two over. An older man, not married, no kids. Kept to himself as I remember, though what a kid realizes at the age of 6-7 should generally be taken with a grain of salt. Just past his house was a small lake, and we would go out there to play sometimes. One day he was near the lake too, and he called us over. We walked over, we knew he lived in the neighborhood so didn't feel afraid to approach him. I don't remember what exactly was said. But he was trying to separate us and get me to leave while my friend stayed behind. Something about he had heard my mom calling me or something.
To this day I really don't know what it was, but it was one of my first childhood memories where I REALIZED something was not right, in the way an adult would rationalize a situation. He was looking at my friend in some way that made me feel scared and I knew I couldn't leave her.
I grabbed her hand and we both ran off. Now, this was long before the days of sex registry lists and all that. But about 5-6 years later, (by then we had moved to TX) we heard from a neighbor/family friend that he had been arrested, charged with rape and assault of a minor, and a host of other things. He made bail and then killed himself. I think that day he might have targeted my friend at the lake but wasn't able to get her alone.
The second instance was a place. My uncle was a land developed in Chicago during the time when Cabrini Green still existed. His firm was one of the ones chosen to demolish and develop a new segment.
Anyway, after the residents had been vacated, I was with him on the job site and just wanted to check out the infamous area myself. I walked through one of the buildings and could see how miserable it was. Walked up a couple floors, went into a few rooms, etc. The further I went, the more the echoes and everything started to weigh in on me. It was downright creepy. The place was a cesspool of crime in its day, murders, rapes, robberies, you name it. You got a sense that you weren't safe anywhere, that literally where you were standing, someone had probably died violently. I've never felt anything quite like it. The fact that the residents spent years fighting against its destruction is just beyond my understanding. No one should want to live like that.
I have never read anything like that, in fact, I looked her up after you mentioned it and read several pieces on her and never saw it mentioned.
IF it is true, I wouldn't put her in the same category as the rest you mentioned because of her obvious mental illness......that is not something she could help, especially in those days.
People classify all sorts of things under the umbrella of mental illness. One might say Albert Fish was mentally ill. He was still evil. And alcohol is the revealer of truth. It doesn't make you do bad things, it enables you to do them. It reveals who you really are inside. That's why there are "happy drunks" and "mean drunks". People who do evil things are evil on the inside, with or without alcohol. I come from a long line of alcoholics - both the good kind and the bad kind.
Last edited by SouthernProper; 09-24-2017 at 12:48 PM..
We were house hunting about 20 years ago and saw an old farmhouse for sale. It was on several acres, with a barn, was quite old, and had the most beautiful millwork, trim, wainscotting, mouldings, built-in hutches, rosettes and bullseyes ... the woodwork was unbelievable. The staircase was breathtaking, as were the stained glass windows. It was vacant, but there were piles of dishes in the sink and a mattress on the floor, so you could tell someone was coming and going, but not taking care of the place. We wandered around and marveled as we considered the possibilities of making it our home. I refused to go into the basement, mostly because I'm claustrophobic. Other than that, we loved the house and submitted a full price offer, which was accepted. About a week later we did another walk through, this time slowly and deliberately, checking everything out more thoroughly. I vividly remember walking from the kitchen to the dining room and stopping in my tracks, staring up the staircase ... a cold chill came over me. Unsettled, I proceeded very slowly through the main floor of the house, as I was getting a feel of things, I felt watched. Finally, I had no choice but to make my way upstairs. I took each step very slowly, listening to every creek, all of my senses on alert, feeling the air... and a horrible, cold sense of dread. When I got to the bedroom upstairs it was dark, there was no electricity at the house since it was vacant. A phrase kept running through my mind as I peered into the darkness up there, "Jodie the pig ... Jodie the pig ... Jodie the pig". I kept trying to force myself to walk all the way back into that room, but I could not. I had to get out of there. The whole house felt so wrong to me that second time through, I told my husband I couldn't live there. We withdrew our offer.
Yes I have been in the presence of an evil person. A friend, from my HS days decades later murdered two people in cold blood. This was person who was probably my best friend for 2-3 years, not just an acquaintance. He got into coke dealing and using and a life of crime and I lost contact. But years later I looked him up and found that he had spent most of his adult life in prison.
Recently found that he was arrested for a double homicide shortly after being released from his previous sentence. There were definitely signs of this when we were kids. He had a sadistic streak. To me he was just a damaged person that took the wrong road and compounded his issues with drugs. He wasn't a good criminal, one of those that seemed to want to get caught. The look in his eyes from the mugshots is that of a cornered animal.
As a person who was severely and relentlessly tortured by a sadistic Mother from infancy-18 yr, it occurs to me that the Mother in the case perhaps had been abusive, maybe monstrously so.
Perhaps she was the evil one whose presence you felt, and the daughter had good reason to loathe her.
The day my Mother died was the best day of my life though I wish her death had been slow and agonizing rather than sudden and swift (vehicle accident).
I'm sure the hospital staff though she was a nice old lady when the ambulance brought her in; my indifference when I was called probably baffled them as you were baffled by the daughter's reaction.
Child abusers get old too, you know, and die, and look like sweet old ladies and folks don't think about that I guess.
That is a strong possibility in many instances. I did work with a few caregivers who confided that they detested caring for a family member who had been an abuser before they become ill. One old hateful man continued to rain holy terror in his household from a dialysis chair. Needless to say there weren't too many tears shed when he passed.
Neither make her "evil". Alcoholism is a disease that can cause people to act in ways that hey normally would not.
Famous celebrity people who seem "evil" - Bing Crosby, Joan Crawford, Mel Gibson. and Madonna.[/quote
Would add Bill Cosby to that list.
I'd agree. OJ Simson and Jerry Lewis also come to mind.
I have a second had experience with Cosby. A friend's daughter was in a Jello commercial with him when she was a child. There were quite a few kids in he commercial.
He was nasty towards all of them! At the time, I found it hard to believe. It was the early 90sand BILL COSBY was cold and grouchy towards a group of 5 or 6 year olds.
At the time, he had such a wholesome image. But, on the set, he had no interest in kids what so ever. In fact, according to my friend, he seemed to hate them.
People classify all sorts of things under the umbrella of mental illness. One might say Albert Fish was mentally ill. He was still evil. And alcohol is the revealer of truth. It doesn't make you do bad things, it enables you to do them. It reveals who you really are inside. That's why there are "happy drunks" and "mean drunks". People who do evil things are evil on the inside, with or without alcohol. I come from a long line of alcoholics - both the good kind and the bad kind.
I wouldn't put someone who is a sociopath like Fish {evil} in the same category as someone who has something like bipolar disorder or depression. {Which I have seen mentioned in regards to Tierney.}
We were house hunting about 20 years ago and saw an old farmhouse for sale. It was on several acres, with a barn, was quite old, and had the most beautiful millwork, trim, wainscotting, mouldings, built-in hutches, rosettes and bullseyes ... the woodwork was unbelievable. The staircase was breathtaking, as were the stained glass windows. It was vacant, but there were piles of dishes in the sink and a mattress on the floor, so you could tell someone was coming and going, but not taking care of the place. We wandered around and marveled as we considered the possibilities of making it our home. I refused to go into the basement, mostly because I'm claustrophobic. Other than that, we loved the house and submitted a full price offer, which was accepted. About a week later we did another walk through, this time slowly and deliberately, checking everything out more thoroughly. I vividly remember walking from the kitchen to the dining room and stopping in my tracks, staring up the staircase ... a cold chill came over me. Unsettled, I proceeded very slowly through the main floor of the house, as I was getting a feel of things, I felt watched. Finally, I had no choice but to make my way upstairs. I took each step very slowly, listening to every creek, all of my senses on alert, feeling the air... and a horrible, cold sense of dread. When I got to the bedroom upstairs it was dark, there was no electricity at the house since it was vacant. A phrase kept running through my mind as I peered into the darkness up there, "Jodie the pig ... Jodie the pig ... Jodie the pig". I kept trying to force myself to walk all the way back into that room, but I could not. I had to get out of there. The whole house felt so wrong to me that second time through, I told my husband I couldn't live there. We withdrew our offer.
Freaked me out to read this!
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