The experience sounds similar to my regular trips out to No-Wheres-ville central Illinois. I loved me a good ghost story episode on those nights driving through

The experience sounds similar to my regular trips out to No-Wheres-ville central Illinois. I loved me a good ghost story episode on those nights driving through towns with double and triple digit populations. Well, not exactly the towns, which were a block with a gas station, post office, and maybe a diner, but the dilapidated structures 1/4 mile past the towns. It was haunting to cruise down tree lined roads over rickety bridges, past rotting houses, and, my favorite, skirting places where infrastructure was easier to bypass than repair. If the road curved more than 20 degrees you could bet that it used to go straight, and if you looked off in that direction you'd see the shell of an old train station or supply store. Art Bell and George Noory turned the most boring road trips into adventures. One night I'd be watching where my headlights hit the trees, expecting a chupacabra to leap onto the road, while others I'd have to 'play it cool' to avoid detection by the secret government testing facilities disguised as grain silos. I think those haunting jaunts into the suspension of disbelief actually made me more tolerant of people with (harmless) strange beliefs. I got to feel the allure of bizarre, irrational beliefs for a few hours per week in an unfamiliar setting and then return to being a city-boy scientist in my everyday life. I'd be sad, but I'm sure he's still around. He just had to go deep underground to avoid detection by the Illuminati or combat the Shadow People. Give em Hell, Art.