Trip to Germany: Amid great beauty lie the seeds of a horrible ugliness
This is a look back at the restaurant that occupies Eagle's Nest, Adolf Hitler's mountaintop retreat in Bavaria during World War II. Image by Del Stone Jr.
A river runs through the little town of Bertchesgaden, Germany – a clear, blue ribbon of foam, as pretty as a river can be.
The river tumbles down from mountains that ring the village like a crown reaching into the sky. Granite peaks are softened by forest and meadow and wildflower.
Everywhere is a picture postcard vista, so breathtaking your heart aches to look. River, sky, mountain, all done up in pure, unsullied beauty.
Surely this must be heaven.
Unbelievably, this once was hell.
Because atop one of these lovely peaks is a single house, inconspicuous as a single cell of cancer.
The house is called Eagle’s Nest. It is the old mountain redoubt of Adolf Hitler, chancellor of the Third Reich, would-be master of the world, and murderer of millions.
Such monstrous ugliness, juxtaposed with such stark beauty, is hard to conceive. Yet at this very spot, Hitler formulated his plans for genocide. No sane person could resist the charms of Bavaria. Hitler’s apparent immunity makes him all the more horribly alien.
Some day, you must see Eagle’s Nest.
A convoy of tour buses leaves a depot in town, every hour and darn well on the hour, to ferry tourists up the mountain. It is a trip riders are happy to leave to drivers.
The diesel engine strains as the bus labors up the steep grade. A narrow switchback cuts through a forest of evergreen before emerging onto the mountain’s rocky flank.
There, the ride becomes more perilous, almost hair-raising, as the bus negotiates curves that send its riders swinging out over the edge and staring into chasms of rocky spires and spiky trees whittled to nothing by arid wind and soil.
A huge landing has been carved from the mountain, and there you disembark to walk through a dank, freezing tunnel, along the same path taken by Hitler’s Mercedes 60 years ago.
You wait in line for an elevator, which takes you through the mountain to Eagle’s Nest.
It is now a restaurant, with the mandatory patio café. Just off the café is a kiosk that sells film and postcards. You’ll want both.
Because the view is nothing short of spectacular. From Eagle’s Nest, you can see Austria. You can see Australia, for that matter. The entire Earth seems laid out before you, spreading in a gauzy quilt of green plains, pearly rivers, icy-cold lakes and the slate fangs of mountains.
On a rise above the patio, a cross has been erected to memorialize all the victims of World War II. Above that, rocks offer a more adrenaline-inducing perspective on the chasms and cliffs around you.
Below and all around are steeply banks meadows sprinkled with gorgeous flowers that waggle in the cool wind as they suck in all that warm mountain sunshine.
Gazing out over all this, you think of peace, and serenity. Not Stukas and gas chambers.
You appreciate the miracle of creation, not the horror of destruction.
If you come here, you will learn that even within the grasp of fantastic beauty, seeds of unknowable ugliness may sprout and take root.
It is a lesson you must never, ever forget.
This column was published in the Sept. 24, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Germans refer to Berlin as the world's biggest construction project. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
The drive from Leipzig to Berlin, in what was once East Germany, carries you from the past into the future.
The past begins on the autobahn, which in some places still uses the cobblestone-like ext and entry ramps of the original road network built by prewar Germany.
If you take the former supply route that served as a lifeline for West Berlin during the Cold War, you will see what remains of the old checkpoints, and the guard towers where East German soldiers made sure nobody got on or got off the autobahn.
But as you near Berlin, a wonderful thing happens.
You start to see the future.
The road smoothes out. The Germans are rebuilding the crumbled infrastructure of the East, replacing uninspired communist workmanship with modern highways and utilities built to contemporary standards.
But even more amazing is the change in atmosphere.
Architecture shows an artistic flair. Buildings bloom with color. The night fairly glows with neon. The drab, neglected and crumbling shadow of socialism gives way to a vibrancy that exists only when people are allowed to freely express their thoughts.
Berlin is that way too, a city still divided by the past and the future. But today’s Germans are racing to put that division behind them.
Downtown Berlin is very much like a college town, with tree-lined streets, sidewalk cafes, and a bright, colorful funkiness that speaks of art, style and culture.
The day we traveled to Berlin, a street festival was unspooling along the main drag. It was a wonderful procession of bizarre kiosks, wild music, crazy dancing, exotic foods, and it was populated with a fascinating diversity of people – gawkers like us, leather-clad cross-dressers, baggy-trousered skinheads, and Bavarian gents in lederhosen.
Amid all the modernity is history, much of it recent.
We drove beneath the Brandenburg Gate, and stopped to photograph Checkpoint Charlie. Even a stretch of the old Wall remains, although it has been mostly scavenged away.
Germans call Berlin the world’s largest construction project – not without reason. Cranes rear stork-like over the buildings, and everywhere you look, skyscrapers are going up. Even the Reichstag, the old parliamentary building, has been rebuilt and is nearing completion.
But if you drive along the old border you can see the difference – the glaring difference – between East and West, communism and capitalism, the past and the future. The buildings on one side of the road are lively and well-kept; the buildings on the other side are run-down and depressing.
Most gratifying to me was the Free Press building, which towered above the skyline on the border. Our guide told us the communists were so enraged by the newspaper building that they constructed a series of skyscrapers on their side of the border to block the view.
Berlin retains much of its old allure. The night of our stay, we sat out on the balcony of our apartment, chugging on huge Cuban stogies and speculating about life in what had been the spy capital of the universe. A Polizi van and its shrill siren completed the aura of mystery.
Berlin is rising anew, and it is as lovely a city as you’ll ever see.
The column was originally published in the September 17, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Greenery is abundant, even in German cities. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
When I got back from my trip to Europe, Staff Writer Bruce Rolfsen asked me, “How many columns are you gonna milk this trip for?”
I answered, “Oh, about 14.”
He laughed. I laughed.
As I mentally laid out Column No. 3. And 4. And 5. And 6, 7, 8, …
The serial columnist strikes again. But if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to spend the next few weeks telling you about what I saw over there, beginning with this collection of unrelated impressions and observations about Germany.
– The first person I encountered at the Frankfurt airport was an immigration official who wanted to see my passport. He looked it over with a critical eye. Then, in a sinister, Gert Frobian voice, he murmured, “Your papers are NOT in order.”
“GAAAA?” I asked.
“Yes. I show you,” he said, and pointed at a line on my passport – the line for my signature.
It was blank.
He handed me a pen.
What I really needed was a nitroglycerine pill.
– Germany is an amazingly clean country. Not a speck of litter anywhere, except outside a Pizza Hut, where several English-language fliers had been strewn across a sidewalk. I collected them all out of shame for my language.
– The cities and villages were thick with trees and flowers, an amazing abundance of greenery and a delightful dearth of asphalt. It seemed every window supported a flowerbox overflowing with geraniums, and every patio was surrounded by trees and blooms.
The countryside is heavily cultivated with corn, sunflowers and wheat. But huge tracts of forested land separate the fields, and in many places forest predominates. Vineyards dot the hillsides, giving way to trees farther up the hilltops.
Even in the cities, trees are abundant, which is why the urban areas never seemed hot, noisy or congested.
It was very clear to me the Germans had learned the importance of co-existing with nature.
– American urban planners, especially those who pass for such in these parts, should take a junket to southern Germany for an immediate education in municipal logic.
The cities are neat, tidy, and use space efficiently. Seldom do you see the desolate stretches of pavement, crazy quilt of construction techniques and the grotesque sprawl that blight American municipalities. Development was limited to distinct borders, an embodiment of the greenway concept, and the wisdom of that philosophy was glaringly apparent; livable cities that had not been built at the expense of surrounding wild places.
(Maybe The Nature Conservancy could better spend its limited funds on airplane tickets for the local developers.)
– Only one place in Germany reminded me of home: the crumbling, bankrupt warrens of the former East Germany. Roads were in ill repair and drab apartment complexes reared above the horizon – all of it was depressingly familiar.
– The Germans were quite friendly, and virtually everywhere I went I was able to find somebody who could speak passable English. Having only a few words and phrases in my German lexicon, I was appreciative of their language skills, and embarrassed by my own.
This column was originally published in the September 10, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
The author snapped this photo of the Delta jetliner he flew aboard to Germany. In the column he referred to it as a DC-10 but in all probability it was an MD-11. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
A large group of my friends – large enough to physically overpower me – escorted me to the airport for my recent trip to Europe.
They know I’m a weenie about flying (as if I hadn’t collapsed into their arms the week before, begging them to pray for my soul) and they wanted to make sure I actually got on the airplane so I couldn’t fake the trip, like the government did with the moon landings and the Mars mission.
We got to the baggage check-in and I told the lady at the desk, “I’m a gutless weenie when it comes to flying,” and she gave me a fishy stare and declared, “I’m making a note of that on your boarding pass.”
Then my friends dragged me to the gate. They announced my plane was ready to go and my friends pushed me forward and suddenly I needed to spend some quality time in the toilet.
“Hello. It’s the gutless weenie,” chirped the boarding clerk as he examined my pass. I should have punched him, but I was too afraid.
We got aboard. I’d asked for an aisle seat, preferably in the no-visibility section. But the airline, in its infinite wisdom, had assigned window seats to a pair of newlyweds, and THEY wanted to sit together. So while the sungglebunnies made goo-goo eyes, I got the window seat next to a spooky-looking woman of massive proportions who hogged the armrests.
We took off into Cecil B. DeMille-style thunderstorms. The plane clearly was not Charlton Heston. Our pilot said it was too turbulent to serve drinks – not too turbulent to throw handfuls of Valiums down the aisle, which would have been fine by me.
An hour later we landed at Hartsfield in Atlanta. I hurried to my connecting flight, a big DC-10 that would carry us nonstop to Frankfurt, Germany. I noticed it only had THREE engines. Could it fly all the way to Germany on THREE engines? I asked myself. No, dummy, Abusive Del answered. Halfway across they’re gonna throw your butt into the Atlantic.
As we were boarding, I met a fellow Fort Walton Beach-ite, Cat Stevens (no, not the singer – this was the REAL Cat Stevens) and her son. It was nice to know somebody famous from home would be along for the ride.
This airplane was, as they say in Brooklyn, YUGE. And even cooler, it had a TELEPHONE in the back of the seat. I couldn’t make the damn thing work, which was REALLY cool – I spent most of the trip just trying to place a TELEPHONE CALL.
Coolest of all? Soon as we took off, night happened. Couldn’t see a thing. Might as well have been on a bus. Fort the first time in my life, I slept on an airplane – well, I TRIED to sleep.
“Wake up, sir, its time for your dinner.”
“Wake up, sir, it’s time for your snack.”
“Wake up, sir, it’s time for your hot towel.”
If THAT’s all I could complain about, it must have been a pretty good airplane ride.
Actually, I’ll complain about one more thing: My fellow passengers hogged the bathroom. Right before landing, I wanted to brush my teeth and “refresh” my deodorant. So did everyone else. By the time I got in there we were pulling up to the gate.
But I’d made it – eight hours in a plane and not one single nervous breakdown.
Little did I know. …
The column was previously published in the September 3, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Planes wait at skyways at Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport in this 1997 photo. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
It was not a good day to fly.
To the north, an evil brew of clouds simmered. They’d been cooking in the August sun for hours, and now rain threatened to spill over.
But more than rain bubbled in those growing thunderheads. For a phoboic, they contained turbulence, the invisible shaking and jolting that squeezes sweat from your palms and wraps a clammy fist around your heart.
The airplane, an MD-80 that would carry me to Atlanta for an even longer flight to Europe, got itself buttoned up with a heart-stopping series of thuds and rattles as attendants pulled the main hatch shut and the baggage handlers finished up below.
I did not want to be here, and nothing would change that – not any number of statistics, the assurances of my friends, or anything else. Somewhere along the line of my life I’d picked up a flying phobia, and the fear, though irrational was very real, almost a living thing.
What I wanted to do was run screaming from the airplane, but it was too late for that. The jet came alive with a flickering of lights and a sudden hissing of the air-conditioning system. A low moan ran through the airframe as the turbines began spinning faster and faster.
For two weeks I’d been dreading this moment. Even writing these words produces a slick pit in my stomach.
Oh, and the crashes.
The weed before, a FedEx MD-11 – the same model airplane I’d be riding for the long flight – plowed the runway at Newark, N.J. It was an MD-11, back then called a DC-10, that had crashed at Souix City, Iowa. Another DC-10 went down in a billowing fireball after losing an engine on takeoff from Chicago’s O’Hare.
Don’t worry, everyone said. Fate has claimed its tribute. Your flight will be fine.
Which is what those pathetic souls aboard the Korean Air flight to Guam were thinking as their 747 flew into the side of a mountain, I moaned to myself as I read the news bulletin.
Our jet was pulling away from the gate, thumping and bumping over the steamy tarmac on its way to the runway. People spoke in low voices, or said nothing at all.
Only days before, a DC-8 bellyflopped into a Miami neighborhood, killing the crew and a couple of people on the ground. They said its cargo broke loose, causing the plane to become tail-heavy.
Don’t worry, everyone said. And they were still saying it the next day when an L-1011 ran off the runway in Hawaii and nearly did a swan dive into the Pacific.
These thoughts were going through my head as the plane’s brakes groaned and it came to a sudden halt at the end of the runway. It seemed to rock slightly. Then it was still. We sat there a moment.
The pilot announced over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve been cleared for takeoff,” and my palms iced over and I remembered times I’d narrowly averted disaster in its many guises, and then it all opened up for me, and I thought what a shame it would be to take the sum of my life – all the work and time and energy that had been expended to deliver me to this moment – and crush it against the tarmac at Pensacola Regional Airport.
As the engines roared.
And the plane began to roll.
This column was originally published in the Northwest Florida Daily News on August 27, 1997 and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of picryl.
And God said, “Let there be bureaucracy”: My Destin correspondent, Winona Havey, who frequently ponders the imponderable and mails me the results, forwarded to my attention this little gem, which I now forward to you:
“In the beginning, God created heaven and the earth.
“Quickly he was faced with a class-action suit for failure to file an environmental impact statement. He was granted a temporary permit for the project, but was stymied with a cease-and-desist order for the earthly part.
“Appearing at the hearing, God was asked why he began his earthly project in the first place. He replied that he just liked to be creative.
“Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and immediately the officials demanded to know how the light would be made.
“Would there be strip mining? What about thermal pollution? God explained that the light would come from a huge ball of fire.
“God was granted provisional permission to make light, assuming that no smoke would result from the ball of fire; that he would obtain a building permit; and to conserve energy, (he) would turn the light off half the time.
“God agreed and said he would call the light ‘Day’ and the darkness ‘Night.’
“Officials replied that were not interested in semantics.
“God said, ‘Let the earth bring forth green herb and bear much seed.’ The EPA agreed so long as native seed was used.
“The God said, ‘Let waters bring forth creeping creatures begetting life; and the fowl that may fly over the earth.’
“Officials pointed out this would require approval from the Department of Game coordinated with the Heavenly Wildlife Federation and the Audubongelic Society.
“Everything was OK until God said he wanted to complete the project in six days. Officials said it would take at least 200 days to review the application and impact statement. After that there would be a public hearing. Then, there would be a 10- to 12-month approval period before. …
“At this point God created hell.”
Thanks, Winona. Even we ardent environmentalists can laugh at the hassle of red tape necessary to protect what God put on this earth.
Now if we could convince the other side to do the same, our debates might become a lot more civil.
Strange but true: A company trying to continue its five-year perfect safety record showed its workers a film aimed at encouraging the use of safety goggles on the job.
According to Industrial Machinery News, the film’s depiction of gory industrial accidents was so graphic that 25 workers suffered minor injuries in their rush to leave the screening room. Thirteen others fainted, and one man required seven stitches after he cut his head falling off a chair while watching the film.
Headlines that didn’t work: “Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents.”
This week’s wire weirdness: MIAMI (AP) – The Better Business Bureau of south Florida, set up to handle consumer complaints from Key West to Lake Okeechobee, is out of business.
The local agency shut down a week ago – apparently just before getting an eviction notice. Left behind were bounced payroll checks and creditors who say they’re owed $458,000.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Flickr user Lance H. Bates under the auspices of a Creative Commons license. https://www.flickr.com/photos/7977365@N08/5709021472/
A number of people called, e-mailed, faxed, or contacted me via the Intergalactic Council to let me know what a rube I am for suggesting flying saucers are a figment of the collective unconscious.
One person even admonished me to put away my Bible (I nearly choked with laughter over that!) and asserted people like me actually hinder the exploration of space by dissing poor little E.T.
I’m not sure what to think about all this. It’s a comfort knowing that skepticism lives in this day of McDonaldized Mass Mind thinking. But at the same time, how spooky to see that this skepticism is fueled by utter nonsense.
Tell you what: I’ll eat my words if somebody can produce a real, live flying saucer, demonstrably from outer space. Until then, you guys keep shaking your hoodoo sticks and baying at the moon.
I’ll wait for the real scientists to give us our answers.
Look for their names on the silver screen! It was bad enough that I nearly sprained my back and gave myself leg cramps trying to help Harrison Ford crawl back into the airplane in “Air Force One.” But then I had to wait in agony until the end of the credits to see the acknowledgments for Eglin and Hurlburt.
But it was time well spent for about 20 of us who remained in the theater as the movie ended Sunday afternoon. When the names of our local bases rolled across the screen, everybody clapped and cheered.
“Air Force One” is one darned exciting movie – probably the best of the action-movie crop this summer. Check it out – and watch those credits roll.
Let it rain: Saturday’s deluge prompted a very strange reaction among some of us around town.
It was such a thunderous downpour – typical for Florida – that people I talked to didn’t even try to go out and about. They stayed at home and watched NASCAR, the Brickyard 400.
I’m not a big NASCAR fan, but like those other people, I was glued to the TV, rooting for all the old-timers, drivers like Bill Elliot (who is the husband of former Daily News photographer Cindy Poole) and casting hexes on young showoffs like Jeff Gordon.
Next thing you know we’ll be packing up the Winnebago and caravanning to Talladega.
Who won the race?
Somebody named Tide.
This week’s wire weirdness: DAKAR, Senegal (AP) – Vigilante mobs convinced that foreign sorcerers can shrink a man’s genitals with a mere handshake have killed eight people in Senegal in the past week.
Attackers killed five people at Ziguinghor in southern Senegal after a man accused one of them of making his penis shrink, newspapers reported Friday. At least three other people were killed in the West African nation’s capital, Dakar.
Headlines that didn’t work: Miners Refuse to Work after Death.
Strange but true: A man in Johannesburg, South Africa, shot his 49-year-old friend in the face, seriously wounding him, while the two practiced shooting beer cans off each other’s heads.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Feel no evil: Have you heard the medical expression “target organ”?
I’m told it refers to the organ that becomes the target of all your health fears, sometimes to the point you actually feel pain in said organ.
Worried about your heart? Feeling a little tight in the chest? Maybe a stab of pain shooting under your ribs? Could be your heart, but maybe you’ve found your target organ.
Another alarming medical condition you need to worry about: Tight Pants Syndrome.
Can you guess who this affects most often?
Can you guess what age group the afflicted belong to?
If you answered “40-something men” to both you’d be less clairvoyant than observant about human nature, because Tight Pants Syndrome is one of those unwelcome rites of passage into middle-age that keeps the hair dye factories churning well into the night.
The story goes that when men hit their 40s they continue to buy the same old waist sizes for their pants, which is absurd because that flat stomach of 32 inches’ circumference has gone a little soft after yeas of fudging on dessert and cheating on yardwork and letting natural senescence creep in, and that 32 inches has swelled to 38 inches minimum.
When you squeeze 36 inches of flab into a 32-inch sack, all kinds of bad things happen. In a nutshell, everything touched by your waistband becomes a target organ.
Why don’t men buy pants that fit? Partly out of vanity. Who wants to wear a pair of Levis with a 36-32 on the label, when you’re used to 32-32?
But a big reason is that men are creatures of habit. They buy 32s because “That’s what they’ve always worn.”
So all you guys with stomach cramps, pinched nerves and light-headedness: Before running to the doctor, check your waist size. Could be time for a “gentlemen’s fit.”
This week’s wire weirdness: HARRISONBURG, Va. (AP) – Bettie Phillips thought the zircon-studded earrings she put on a baby deer were fashionable.
Police said it was criminal.
Mrs. Phillips, 54, of Hiddenite, N.C., was charged with animal cruelty and illegally possessing a wild animal after officers found the fawn in the back of her four-wheel-drive with cross-shaped earrings in its pierced ears.
She said she rescued the fawn from a busy road on July 3 as she drove to Harrisonburg to visit her daughter. Later that day, she said, she pierced its ears by hand, pushing the posts of the two earrings through the flesh.
The 2-month-old deer was seized and taken to a wildlife center, its ears inflamed and infected. Antibiotics were used to treat the mild infection.
“I thought it would be pretty,” Mrs. Phillips said. “You can get a little kid’s ears pierced. What’s the different between a person’s and a baby deer’s?”
The housewife could get up to a year in jail and $3,000 in fines.
Headlines that didn’t work: Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violens Case.
Redneck computer terms: “Digital control,” as in what your finders do on the TV remote.
Words that should be words: “Inclimate,” as in, “That weather out there sure is inclimate – that’s where it’s not inclement.” (Courtesy of my South Walton grammar checker.)
This column was originally published in the July 16, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
This image mosaic of asteroid 253 Mathilde is constructed from four images acquired by the Near Earth Asteroid Rendezvous (NEAR) spacecraft on June 27, 1997. NASA/JPL
“May you live in interesting times” was more blessing than curse last week as information poured in from an armada of spacecraft whipping across the vastness of our tiny solar system, threatening to make us more intelligent citizens of our planet whether we wanted to or not.
While cosmonauts and astronauts worked in low Earth orbit, a couple of NASA darts scored consecutive bulls-eyes millions of miles from home, and another veteran space probe continued a mission that may lead t the biggest discovery of all time.
First on deck was the Near Earth Asteroid Rendezvous spacecraft, which on June 27 waltzed past a cosmic flyspeck called Mathilde.
As asteroid go Mathilde is not that special, a 33-mile-wide lump of rock that reflects only 3 percent of the sunlight it receives. But since it was along the way to NEAR’s ultimate destination, the asteroid Eros in 1999, planetologists decided to stop by for a visit.
NEAR photographed a dark, heavily cratered surface, almost uniform in color. Scientists believe these features show that Mathilde is an artifact of the original building blocks of the solar system, unchanged for billions of years.
As NEAR rocketed by Mathilde, the space probe Galileo was busy with its exploration of the giant planet Jupiter and its mini-solar system of moons. Most fascinating of these moons are Ganymede and Europa, both of which likely possess oceans of water.
The case for an ocean on Europa is much stronger, and therein lies the potential for a discovery immense proportions, because where there is water, and heat, there may be life. Exobiologists are already wondering about suspicious dark spots around crack in the ice of Europa’s surface. Those dark spots may be stains of organic material.
Think about it: an extraterrestrial ecosystem, right here in our own solar system! The suspense of not knowing is unbearable!
Then there was Pathfinder, and its tiny robot Sojourner.
Both Pathfinder and NEAR are products of NASA’s “faster, cheaper, better” philosophy of space exploration on a shoestring, best exemplified by Pathfinder, which used a number of unique technologies to get to the surface of Mars.
For instance, Pathfinder didn’t orbit Mars. It dove right in, using the planet’s atmosphere to slow it down in a maneuver called aerobraking. After its parachute unfurled, the main body of Pathfinder unreeled down a cable to escape retrorockets that would fire from above. About 60 feet above the surface, Pathfinder disconnected itself and fell to the ground, bouncing on a cocoon of air bags, which later deflated as the machine unfolded like a cornflower.
The fact that everything worked was miracle enough. The pictures and information will keep scientists drooling for decades.
What these and future space missions will accomplish for mankind is incalculable. The advances in knowledge will revolutionize our understanding of the universe, and the technology spinoffs will change the way we live and work.
But most important is this: Over the July Fourth weekend, the Pathfinder web page recorded 100 million hits. That proves the public is hungry for knowledge and adventure.
Indeed, we live in interesting times.
This column was published in the July 9, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .
Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.
Glad to be gone: I had friends down from up north last weekend.
They used to live here, but now they live in a town with one traffic light, a McDonald’s, two video-rental joints and a couple of gas stations.
Saturday night, I thought I’d treat them to a gulf-front dinner at a South Walton restaurant.
As we sat in gridlock near The Shores Shopping Center in Destin, my friends remarked about how terrible the traffic had become. It was bumper-to-bumper in both directions, off to the horizon.
Then, as we headed farther east, they declared, “How many Wings do you need?” They’d started counting on Okaloosa Island.
We took Old 98 east. They were dismayed by the construction. They said, “You had something beautiful here and you built over it.”
Were these old-timers who’d lived here back in the ’60s?
Nope. They moved away three years ago.
It’s funny. We place restrictions on movie theater occupancy, restaurant occupancy – even dog-kennel occupancy, but not city occupancy or county occupancy. Just pack ’em in, lay everything to waste and ruin what’s good about a place.
“You need to get out of here, Del,” they said as they left.
They’re right.
This week’s wire weirdness: JACKSON, Mich. (AP) – Mr. Chicken died with his artificial legs on, defending his hens to the end, and that’s the way he’ll be buried.
Veterinarian Tim England said his plucky rooster was mauled to death, probably by a raccoon, as he tried to protect the chickens who shared his pen.
Mr. Chicken was rescued last December, his feet were frozen beyond repair. England adopted the bird and had a physical therapist make Mr. Chicken a new pair of legs.
The plastic legs fit snugly over the stumps, with squarish “feet” that curved up at the toe like skis. As with most prosthetics, Mr. Chicken’s were removed at night to prevent pressure sores.
Mr. Chicken was featured in national magazines including Newsweek and in newspapers from South Africa to Hawaii.
“It’s a glum day,” England said. “We will bury him in the flower garden with his legs on.”
Redneck computer terms: “Bit,” a wager as in, “I bit you can’t spit that piece a ear across the porch longways.”
At the great Bowlerama: The pins didn’t fall, but onlookers did – with laughter – as they watched folks like Kelly Humphrey, Brenda Shoffner and yours truly bowl for the Red Cross at Destin Lanes on June 21. Kelly got more strikes than I, but at least I won the poker, which earned me a fast 75 cents (I immediately lost it to Kelly’s son Joey in the air hockey machine).
We had a good time and raised a few hundred bucks for the flood-sodden folks of North Dakota.
Later that night – much later – it was SRO at Frankly Scarlett for the Performance Against AIDS fundraiser. What a blast. Melissa Welch can belt out a tune, let me tell you. Can’t wait till next year’s show.
Headlines that didn’t work: “Clinton Wins on Budget, but More Lies Ahead.”
Words that should be words: (This one is courtesy of Julie Nichols), “epressed,” as in the depression of not receiving any e-mail.
The column was published in the Wednesday, July 2, 1997 Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.
About the author:
Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”
Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.
As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.
Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .