The The the The tired of the everyday routine, ever dream of a life of romantic adventure want to get away from it all.

We offer you escape.

Escape. Escape designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight we escape to a lonely lighthouse off the steaming jungle coast of French Guiana

and a nightmare world of terror and violence as we bring you again in response to

hundreds of requests three skeleton, starring Vincent Price. Picture this place. A gray tapering cylinder welded by iron rods and concrete to the key itself.

A bare black rock, 150 feet long, maybe 40 wide, that's at

low tide. At high tide, just the lighthouse rising 110 feet straight up out of the ocean and all about it the

churning water gray green scum dappled warmest soup and swarming with gigantic bat-like devilfish, great violet

schools a Portuguese man of war and yes sharks, the big ones, the 15 footers.

And as if this weren't enough, there was a hot dank, rotten smelling wind that came at us day and night off the jungle swamps of the mainland,

a wind that smelled like death, a wind that had smelled

a slow and frightful death that came one night to this bare black rock.

Set in the base of the light was a watertight bronze door. And in you went, and up.

Yes, up and round and round.

Past the tanks of oil in the coils of rope, casks of wicks, racks of lanterns, sacks of spuds and cartons and cans, and up, and up and up round and round.

Over the light store room was the food store room, and over the food store room was the bunk room where the three of us slept and over the bunk room was the living and cooking room and over the living and cooking room was the light. She was a beauty, big steel and bronze baby with a sun gleaming through the glass walls all about,

bouncing, blinding little beams off the big shining reflectors,

glittering and refracting through her lenses, the whole gigantic bulk of her

balance like a ballerina on the glistening steel axle of her rotary mechanism.

She was a sweetheart of a light.

And at night she'd lie there on the stone deck of the gallery with her evolving smoothly and quietly over your head,

easing her bright white eye 360 degrees around the horizon.

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