This is a true story. I know that's cliche to say. In this day and age, claiming something incredible happened without video proof is a surefire way to make certain people not believe you.

Everyone does it though, especially in the realm of the crazy and the supernatural.

Movies like the Texas Chainshaw Massacre and the strangers are supposedly based on true stories.

But when you take a look at the events inspiring them, you will find an excessive amount of artistic license has gone into the end product.

The result, many times, is that the tail told becomes hardly recognizable from its source material.

I guess the writers and directors figure reality isn't scary enough.

The story I'm about to relate happened though, just the way I'm telling it. No

embellishment needed. I wouldn't lie about that because

well you'll see. I grew up in a different world than today.

The internet wasn't commercialized yet.

Phones were still attached to the wall and kids played outside on afternoons and weekends.

The information age is marvelous.

An incredible amount of knowledge available instantaneously at our fingertips.

Questions that in my youth would have taken days of research of the library to answer are satisfied in moments with a quick Google search. The issue I found

is having access to such a font of knowledge has made us lazy. We assume incorrectly that we can find anything online.

If there's nothing there, if the results come up empty, it must either be unimportant or simply not exist.

That's not true. Some things, some very real, very important things have avoided making the digital leap.

Things like Old Mother Cleaver.

My mom and I moved to a new town a couple weeks after my 13th birthday.

My dad was in the army and eventually mom got tired of pulling up a life

and starting over every couple of years. My parents decided to try her trial separation

and jointly concluded I'd go with mom, since dad's lifestyle

...