Home Blog Page 137

Rhyme and Reason – Magnetic quackery

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 19, Issue 2, from 2006.

Although magnetism was known and exploited by the third century BC or earlier, it still has a capacity to amaze and confuse and it is probably for this reason that it seems to be seeing a particular resurgence as a quack therapy and for a lot of other dubious uses.

With my first-year students, when I am discussing the idea of a force, I usually take a pair of small but powerful neodymium permanent magnets and put them on top of an overhead projector with similar poles facing one another. Moving one then forces the other to slide across the surface of the projector as a result of magnetic repulsion even though they are separated by a centimetre or so.

This almost spooky action at a distance can seem even weirder when I pass the magnets around the class and ask the students to attempt to push similar poles together. The feeling this gives is of having a slippery but dense jelly in between the magnets — of course, in reality, the only physical substance in between them is air, the repulsion being provided by the magnetic interaction.

This doesn’t mean that magnetism is not well understood by physicists. It is, but the description tends to be rather mathematical and this is perhaps another reason that even physics students can find magnetism difficult to understand at a reasonably deep level as they tend to regard electromagnetism as one of the more intractable subjects in their syllabus. For the general public, then, it may seem perfectly reasonable that this mysterious force of nature which is omnipresent on our planet (in the form of the Earth’s magnetic field) may be harnessed in the service of good health and wellbeing.

On the web and elsewhere you will find no shortage of suppliers offering small powerful magnets in a variety of shapes and sizes along with suggestions as to how they should be employed to deal with specific ailments. For instance a UK company called MagneCare tells us that one of their product ranges, MagneDisk magnets:

“give effective local treatment of any aches, pains and sprains, anywhere on the body;– the head, neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, hands, spine, lower back, hips, knees, ankles, feet and acupressure points”

They will also provide magnets for producing “magnetic water” — something which if it really existed would have probably gained its discoverer a Nobel Prize. Drinking magnetic water, apparently:

“reduces excess acidity and bile in the digestive system and regulates movement of the bowels, expelling all accumulation of poisonous matter, soothes the nerves and helps clear arteries”.

Just don’t lick your credit cards after drinking it, though. The company’s tests show that magnetic water can be made by placing a beaker of water on a magnet for 60 minutes or taping a magnet to the side of the vessel. And don’t forget Tamiflu — according to a Dr Philpott of Oklahoma:

“During a flu epidemic, take magnetically treated water every 4 hours for prevention or relief of symptoms”.

(By the way, this will work better for avian flu than other varieties as birds are well known to have a magnetic sense that they use for navigation). In fact, so popular have so-called magnetic therapies proven to be, that, according to the Sunday Times on 26 February 2006:

“NHS accountants are so impressed by the cost-effectiveness of a ‘magnetic leg wrap’ called 4UlcerCare that from Wednesday doctors will be allowed to prescribe it to patients” .

Now, you may have picked up from my tone that I am a little sceptical about the efficacy of these therapies but is there any evidence (other than the testimonies on the suppliers’ websites) that any of them might actually work? Well some of the websites that are promoting these therapies refer to a pilot study on 50 adults that was conducted at Baylor College of Medicine in Houston, which compared the effects of real magnets and false magnets on knee pain in people who had had polio.

However, a pilot study is only ever meant to be used to help decide whether it is worth continuing with a full study – and given the small numbers of patients and differences in the characteristics of the group using magnets and the control group, this study really has no significance at all. Dr Stephen Barrett gives a detailed discussion of this trial and others on the pages of the US Quackbusters organization. He also discusses a number of North American legal cases where suppliers have been taken to task for their false or exaggerated claims. He concludes that there is no scientific basis for the idea that small permanent magnets can either relieve pain or make any difference whatsoever to the course of an illness.

So by all means, continue to be a little mystified by magnetism and enjoy decorating your kitchen with fridge magnets but, if you were thinking of spending money on magnetic mattresses, bandages, golf shoes or underpants to cure your ailments, I’d suggest that you just stick to your homeopathic tablets.

The Mystery of Hellfire Pass: Part Three – A possible solution to the mystery?

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 19, Issue 1, from 2006.

Given that the majority of smashed windscreens on the Portsmouth Road are likely to have been caused by loose road chippings, how is it that something so inoffensive could lead to a national mystery?

We believe that there are two crucial factors in the origins and level of interest in the phantom sniper incidents. These are: (1) the volume of traffic along the Portsmouth Road and (2) the campaigning nature of the Esher News and Advertiser.

When visiting modern-day Esher, one is immediately struck by how dominant the Portsmouth Road is within the village. This road is one of the main trunk routes from London to the south coast and it cuts through the middle of the village. Even now, years after the building of the Esher bypass road, it carries a massive volume of traffic along it creating much noise and congestion.

At the time of the sniper incidents there was a great deal of concern in Esher about the level of traffic running through the village and of the number of accidents this was generating. Practically every issue of the ENA was dominated by articles about the road. Each issue would carry several items concerning that week’s traffic accidents and each month there would be a tally of accidents in comparison with the previous month. Throughout the entire span of the phantom sniper the ENA showed extreme concern at what the traffic was doing to the village and was actively involved in the local campaign for a bypass road to be built.

Given that the Portsmouth Road was then the busiest highway in Britain (see The Skeptic, 18.4, Part Two) it is no wonder that traffic would be high on the list of concerns of locals and the council alike. This local obsession with traffic may have laid the foundations for the phantom sniper.

It is probably no coincidence that the first acknowledged shooting was a very high profile one involving the celebrity journalist Richard Dimbleby, who reported his broken windscreen to the Esher police. This would have made both local people and the ENA aware of the idea that there was a sharp shooter abroad on the Portsmouth Road. As further reports of smashed windscreens came in, so the ENA assumed that there was a connection between them and promoted the idea of a sniper.

Judging by the number of times that the ENA mentions the Esher Police Station, it would appear that the newspaper was getting most of its reports from a contact inside the Esher police station. This would explain not only how the ENA got to hear of so many broken windscreens but also why the incidents are so tightly clustered on the road between Esher and Cobham (see map). Anybody who received a damaged windscreen on this stretch of road, and who thought that they had been shot at, would automatically call in at the nearest police station which would be in either Esher (if heading northbound) or Cobham (southbound). Assuming that there was some communication between the Esher and Cobham police stations, the ENA would get to hear of all such incidents.

A stretch of road indicated on a map between Esher and Cobham with incident sites marked alongside it.

It is also noticeable that a good many of the drivers reporting these incidents lived locally. Local drivers who were aware of the sniper rumours would be more likely to report their damaged windscreens to the authorities than passing motorists who might put the incident down to loose stones.

After the start of the second wave of damaged windscreens the ENA started to take an interest not only in the ‘shootings’, but also actively campaign to get them looked at by the authorities. It would appear that this campaigning, which resulted in it carrying 40 articles on the matter in 36 months, caused a mild form of hysteria in which any windscreen damage from anywhere within a 20 kilometre radius around Esher, could get reported. The eventual involvement of the national press, the local council, the Minister for Transport and the Metropolitan Police was seen by the ENA as a vindication of its position on the matter. The editorial of the 20th June 1952 makes it clear that the ENA sees itself as having been crucial in the promotion of this affair, and they are probably correct in this.

Like all bouts of social delusion, there comes a point when the number of incidents peak and interest begins to fall away again. This seems to have been reached in about late September or early October 1952 when after over six months solid coverage the number of reports and news items began to decrease markedly. Although there was the odd burst of interest, the phantom sniper had become yesterday’s news.

The last piece of the puzzle concerns the large number of smashed windscreens on that one small stretch of the Portsmouth Road. By our count at least 43 windscreens were smashed over a 36 month period (this excludes windscreens that were broken outside the Esher area). It was this large number that drew the ENA’s attention in the first place and which helped perpetuate the idea of a local sniper. Is it really feasible that loose stones or structural failure could cause so many breakages in such a short space of time?

Unfortunately, we do not have the police incident books from Esher or Cobham, so it is impossible to know how many reports of windscreen damage they were receiving in the periods before and after the sniper incidents. We also know nothing of the road surface conditions. We do, however, have some other clues.

On average there were one or two windscreens a week being reported to the ENA during the peak period between March and October 1952. According to the traffic census and stone damage data quoted in the last issue, the number of incidents is perfectly within the bounds of normality. The levels of damage do not look excessive when compared with the volume of traffic and the susceptibility of car windscreens to damage from loose stones.

A comparison to other phantom sniper incidents

Given that the scenario outlined above relies on circumstances that are capable of being replicated elsewhere in the world, how does the Esher episode compare to other phantom sniper incidents?

Fort’s Phantom Snipers:

Charles Fort mentions a number of phantom sniper incidents in his book Wild Talents. Most of these concern people who have been shot and the bullet found but not the sniper – these do not concern us here. There are, however, two apparent episodes of mass shootings that interest us that took place in London in April to May 1927 and Camden, New York from November 1927 to February 1928.

An investigation of local London papers revealed that the incidents listed by Fort were totally unconnected to each other and most involved genuine shootings in which real, not phantom, bullets were recovered. Through pressure of time, the New York incidents were not investigated but they superficially would appear to have more in common with the Esher incidents than the 1927 London ones.

The Seattle panic:

During March 1954, police in the city of Bellingham in north-west Washington State were baffled by reports that a ghostly sniper was shooting at car windscreens. The situation soon reached crisis proportions. Over a one-week period in early April over 1,500 windscreens were reported damaged. Despite the massive number of ‘attacks’, police chief William Breuer had no suspects and no tangible evidence. Authorities surmised that the most likely weapon ‘was a BB-gun barrel attached to a compressor in a spark-plug socket, fired from a moving car’.

At the height of the episode, people across the city of 34,000 placed various items, from newspapers to door masts and even plywood, over their windscreens for protection. Meanwhile, downtown parking garages were under heavy security. The phantom pellet-shooter seemed to be everywhere; even police cars reported being struck. In lieu of a lack of evidence for vandals, by mid-April local and national media began emphasising the mysterious nature of the damage. On April 12, a reporter for Life Magazine came to Bellingham and referred to the episode as ‘ghostly’ and the perpetrators as ‘phantom’-like. The next evening, the Seattle Times talked about ‘elusive BB-snipers’. In time, reports of the mysterious windscreen attacks moved closer to Seattle, Washington, 80 miles to the south. Reports of strange pit marks on windscreens first reached Seattle on the evening of April 14, and by the end of the next day, weary police had answered 242 phone calls from concerned residents reporting tiny pit marks on over 3,000 vehicles. In some cases, whole parking lots were reportedly affected. The reports quickly declined and ceased. On April 16 police logged 46 pitting claims, and 10 on the 17th, after which no more reports were received.

Nahum Medalia of the Georgia Institute of Technology and Otto Larsen of the University of Washington studied the episode. They stated that the most common damage report involved claims that tiny pit marks grew into dime-sized bubbles embedded within the glass, leading to a folk theory that sand flea eggs had somehow been deposited in the glass and later hatched. The sudden presence of the ‘pits’ created widespread anxiety as they were typically attributed to atomic fallout from hydrogen-bomb tests that had been recently conducted in the Pacific and received saturation media publicity. At the height of the incident on the night of April 15, the Seattle mayor even sought emergency assistance from US President Dwight Eisenhower.

In the wake of rumours such as the existence of radioactive fallout, and by a few initial cases amplified in the media, residents began looking at, instead of through, their windscreens. An analysis of the mysterious black, sooty grains that dotted many Seattle windscreens was carried out at the Environmental Research Laboratory at the University of Washington. The material was identified as cenospheres – tiny particles produced by the incomplete combustion of bituminous coal. The particles had been a common feature of everyday life in Seattle, and could not pit or penetrate windscreens.

Medalia and Larsen noted that as the pitting reports coincided with the H-bomb tests, media publicity on the windscreen damage seems to have reduced tension about the possible consequences of the bomb tests. Secondly, the very act of phoning police and appeals by the Mayor to the Governor and even President of the United States “served to give people the sense that they were ‘doing something’ about the danger that threatened”.

Although on a shorter time scale, the Seattle panic has clear similarities to the Esher one and is undoubtedly the best studied comparison that we could find.

Glasspox:

Three articles from 1950s editions of FATE magazine cover smashed windscreen incidents and refer to these epidemics as being due to ‘glasspox’. According to FATE, ‘glasspox’ was apparently a very common phenomenon in the 1950s. They make mention of mass windscreen damage in Pittsburgh and Rome as well as carrying several individual accounts from readers. Theories cited include sonic booms, a reaction to windscreen cleaning fluids, radioactivity, and even microscopic organisms attacking the glass! One reader even asked an Ouija board about the cause of glasspox; the ‘spirit’ placed the blame on airborne ‘bantom ash from radium deposits’.

Miscellaneous others:

Frank Edwards, in his book Stranger than Science, which carries a brief report on the Esher incidents, notes that ‘…in June of 1952, State police in both Indiana and Illinois found themselves chasing a phantom gunman who was fully as elusive as the one in England’. Attempts were not made to find these incidents although it is probable that Edwards heard of these through his connection with FATE magazine, as was the case with the Esher incidents.

And finally…

The search through four years’ worth of the ENA produced one other item of interest. This concerns two UFO sightings that were reported in the ENA, both of which are extremely tame in comparison to today’s surgically obsessed extraterrestrials. We can only agree with the author of a letter to the ENA who says of the UFO: “It is a pity that your eyewitness did not notice which side of the road the object flew along so that we might have gathered whether the aircraft was British or Continental?”

Acknowledgements

The authors would like to thank staff at the Esher Library, British Newspaper Library, D M S Watson Science Library, Automobile Association, The Esher News and FATE Magazine.

The Mystery of Hellfire Pass: Part Two

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 4, from 2005.

The last issue of The Skeptic outlined the panic and mayhem that ensued when the small English town of Esher apparently became the target of a mysterious sniper. The phantom gunman based himself on a four kilometre stretch of road between Esher and Cobham and, between December 1950 and December 1953, was alleged to have shot out the windscreens of at least 51 motor vehicles. A suspect was never even seen, let alone caught, and no bullets were ever recovered. As the number of incidents mounted so did the sense of hysteria in Esher, but who or what could be responsible?

What was happening on Hellfire Pass?

A stretch of road indicated on a map between Esher and Cobham with incident sites marked alongside it.

Trying to solve the mystery of the phantom sniper of Esher was no easy task. No firm solutions were offered at the time and no further work has been done in the fifty years since the trouble began. During this time much valuable evidence, in the form of local police records, has been destroyed. Nonetheless, the authors have the detailed records from the Esher News and Advertiser (ENA) and a few scraps of evidence from other sources (see The Skeptic, 18.3). From these we believe it is possible to test some of the possible solutions to the phantom sniper mystery and ultimately to offer our own opinion as to what exactly did occur on the Portsmouth Road during the early 1950s.

In this section we will test the four main theories put forward as the cause of the broken windows. More minor ideas, such as the ghostly highwayman and falling pinecones, are excluded because they are unworkable.

1. Supersonic booms

Early on, during the second wave of windscreen shattering, a national newspaper put forward the idea that sonic booms from low-flying military aircraft may have been responsible for shattering the windscreens on the Portsmouth Road. This idea was picked up by both the ENA and some of its readers.

The first acknowledged breaking of the sound barrier occurred in October 1947, only a few years before the Esher incidents. In the years following this achievement the term ‘supersonic’ entered popular culture as a euphemism for anything that was fantastic or great. There was, however, also concern over the effect of supersonic booms on local property, especially windows which could potentially shatter as a consequence. Although few, if any, people in Esher could ever have heard a supersonic boom at this time, there was already talk about the possibility of these noises being heard in the region, and the town itself is on the flight path from nearby Heathrow. It is probably for this reason that this theory gained local popularity. It is, however, a poor idea in practice.

The pattern of the windscreen shattering, as reported by the ENA and others, does not suggest a supersonic cause. Surely cars from a wider area would be affected as would the windows of houses, let alone the side windows of cars. It is also questionable as to how many supersonic aircraft there would have been operating in the area at that time. With the aid of hindsight we now also know that supersonic aircraft may well rattle a few windows, but they very rarely break them and then certainly not the toughened glass of car windscreens. Even the ENA rejects this idea itself.

2. Lone gunmen and naughty schoolboys

A chief reason for rejecting the supersonic boom theory is that in a large majority of cases motorists actually reported hearing an object strike their windscreen and in a number of cases there is clear evidence in the form of circular pock marks in the glass (e.g. Robert Bruce had a circular crack in his windscreen after driving along the Portsmouth Road on 4th June 1952). In the majority of cases it seems as though a missile of some kind is the most likely explanation. It is the origin of these missiles that forms the mystery.

Throughout its coverage of the windscreen incidents, the ENA favoured the idea of there being a genuine sniper hiding at the roadside and taking pot shots at passing cars. In favour of this idea are the tight distribution of incidents, most of which occur along the same short section of the Portsmouth Road, and the sound of a gun shot that accompanied many of the broken windscreens. With reports like that of Mr Tickner, who said he saw a flash and then heard an explosion just prior to his windscreen shattering, it is no wonder that a gunman was suspected. It is clear that at least some members of the local constabulary favoured this idea too, judging by their willingness to comb the surrounding countryside for evidence.

However, the one consistent problem with this theory has been the lack of a single bullet to be recovered from either inside the car or from the roadside. At other incidents where windows or cars have been shot at, the bullet is normally quite easy to find. The ENA and members of the local council overcame the problem of a lack of bullets by consistently advocating that an airgun must have been used.

An airgun is a light rifle which uses compressed air to fire light bullets, pellets or even stones over relatively short distances. They are low-powered and their ammunition fragile so whilst it might be possible for an airgun shot to break or damage a windscreen, the bullet itself would probably not survive the impact and certainly wouldn’t penetrate the glass to land inside the car. This would adequately explain the lack of a bullet at the scene of the crime. In addition, airguns are light, cheap and did not require the owner to a hold licence and so could easily have been operated by a local youth or other mischief-maker.

Although airguns vary in power and accuracy, it is reasonably certain that if fired from close range a pellet or rock from one could shatter a windscreen. Several experiments have been performed with airguns and windscreens, the results of which all show that airgun pellets can indeed shatter all types of windscreen glass.

Whilst it is certainly possible that there was indeed a sniper with an airgun hiding in the bushes surrounding the Portsmouth Road, there are a certain number of problems with this idea.

The first of these concerns the accuracy available from an airgun. Being low-powered, the effective range of most airguns is only a few hundred metres and, like all guns, their accuracy decreases with increasing distance from the target and with increased wind and rain. Despite all these factors the sniper seems to have been an uncannily good shot under all types of light and weather conditions. The sniper managed to shoot out the windscreens of dozens of cars accurately, without missing and hitting other parts of the car, most notably the bodywork and side windows.

On top of this the sniper was capable of doing it at night and in all weather conditions including on one occasion a snowstorm blizzard! To accomplish this, the sniper would have to be very close to the roadside indeed, and yet he or she was never once spotted by passing motorists, police patrols or people who have pulled over after having had their windscreens shattered. This seems very strange indeed.

The strongest piece of evidence in favour of a sniper is the case of Mr Frank Smith whose car was apparently hit on the driver’s door by a .317 bullet which left a sizeable hole (see The Skeptic, 18.3). All this would seem to point strongly in favour of Mr Smith having been shot at, but there are some strange inconsistencies noticeable in the reporting of this incident.

Firstly there is the calibre of the bullet which, at .317, is much larger and more powerful than the airgun pellets hitherto believed to be responsible for the other broken windscreens. Either the sniper had changed his means of operating or was using a different gun for this one occasion.

More puzzling though is the lack of any mention of a bullet being found embedded in the door even though, according to the ENA article, a ‘ballistic expert’ was involved in the case. However, the article never states that the ballistic expert actually examined the car, merely that he suggests that it could be a .317 bullet. Stranger still his assertion that the bullet could have “ricochetted [sic] off the road surface before hitting the panel”.

Does this imply that the angle of entry was such that the missile had to come from a downward direction, which would seem to be very odd indeed? We are not given enough information to decide, but this case has enough inconsistencies to suggest that either a bullet was not involved or that maybe this shooting is not related to the other windscreen incidents.

It is also interesting that despite this apparent prima facie case of a shooting along the Portsmouth Road, for several months afterward the police still maintained that there was no evidence of malicious damage to any of the cars involved in the sniper incidents.

A further suggestion made on a number of occasions was that schoolboys with catapults were responsible for the damage. A good catapult with a stone or steel ball-bearing could easily damage a car windscreen and could even be more powerful than some airguns. The suggestion that schoolboys could be involved came early on in the second wave of incidents, when a police sergeant told the ENA: “Perhaps it will stop when the children go back to school”.

However, the catapult theory, which was suggested on more than one occasion, has all the same problems of accuracy in adverse conditions as the airguns do. There is also the prolonged period of time over which the incidents occurred and the wide spread of incidents beyond the Portsmouth Road. All these work against the theory of non-mobile children with catapults. There is also only one windscreen broken at a time which suggests a remarkable patience for impudent children.

Interestingly, during some library research in Esher, one of the authors was approached by a local woman (to whom we shall afford anonymity) who said she was around the age of 12 when the sniper was in full swing. She claimed that many of the incidents were down to herself and her friends throwing tomatoes at passing cars, something that does not tie in with any of the ENA reports. She also mentioned that she knew of ‘older boys’ who were using airguns to take shots at car windscreens, but her stories sounded remarkably like those that are reflected in the ENA’s letter columns and may well have been based on local gossip at the time.

Although the sniper theory has some credibility to it, there are massive problems with the feasibility of carrying out this task with such accuracy over such a long period of time. It was a theory that was eventually dismissed by the police and is not favoured here either.

3. Inferior glass

The Automobile Association (AA) is quoted as saying that the damage was most likely to be due to inferior glass. The AA was consulted over this but could provide no further help, being unable to find any reference to the Esher incidents in their newsletters or press releases of the time.

It is unknown how inferior glass could be responsible for the Esher incidents except possibly being in conjunction with movements in the frame of the vehicle causing the glass to flex and crack. This, however, would not explain the starred windscreens or indeed the other evidence of impact that most people reported.

4. Stones on the road

A windshield with rain on it. Beyond the windshield you can see the break lights of the rear of a car in front.

An obvious explanation for the broken windscreens is that loose stones on the road were being flicked into the air by passing traffic and then impacting into the windscreens of other cars. This possibility was suggested right from the outset of the Esher incidents and was repeated many times by many different people. It is also clear that the local authorities favoured this theory when they sent a sweeper lorry to clear the Portsmouth Road, and that the police and Ministry of Transport, with their insistence that there was no evidence of malicious damage, also favoured an explanation along these lines. There is little doubt that flying stones can cause the kind of damage seen along the Portsmouth Road, but given the large number of incidents in such a short space of time, how likely is it?

When looking at the likelihood of stones being the cause of the Esher incidents, it is necessary to take a number of factors into account including the volume of traffic, the pattern of windscreen breakage and the type of glass used in cars of the day. We shall deal with these points individually.

i) Volume of traffic on the Portsmouth Road

During the early 1950s the Portsmouth Road (then the A3 road) was the major route for driving between London and south coast cities such as Portsmouth, Brighton and Southampton. It was therefore very busy indeed and the ENA had been campaigning for some time on the issue of traffic accidents and pollution through Esher itself, and with good cause (this is dealt with more fully in part three of this study). In September 1951 a census by the Automobile Association showed that there was an average of 987 cars an hour passing through Esher during the daytime, making that stretch of the Portsmouth Road officially Britain’s busiest highway. Allowing for slack periods at night, that would mean that around 12,000 to 15,000 vehicles a day passed through Esher town centre, a staggering number for an old Roman Road not designed for the purpose.

Given that somewhere in the region of 84,000 vehicles were travelling along the Portsmouth Road in a week, the occurrence of one or two stone-damaged windscreens does not make that look statistically unlikely. When one realises that during the three years in which the “phantom sniper” operated, something like over 12,000,000 cars must have travelled the road, then the 51 recorded damaged windscreens during this time actually looks statistically quite low (it equates to a 0.004% chance of a car along the Portsmouth Road being damaged during this time). In other words, the damage occurring to the windscreens is not that statistically unusual.

ii) Damaged windscreen statistics

There are statistics for everything in this world, including stone damage to windscreens. In 1998 Edgeguard International, an American glass manufacturer, undertook a survey of nearly 4,000 parked cars; 45% showed evidence of stone damage on their windscreen. This survey was backed up with another statistic which states that ‘stones cause 90% of windshield replacements’.

The seriousness of stone damage was also outlined in a report for the Ministry of Transportation and Highways of British Columbia, Canada, where loose aggregate on roads was causing a serious problem with broken and damaged windscreens. They recommended using smaller aggregate during their winter road gritting programme.

These results would appear to suggest that windscreen damage by loose stones is very common indeed with up to half of all cars showing evidence of stone damage. When these statistics are put together with the huge volume of traffic seen on the Portsmouth Road, the number of incidents again does not look statistically abnormal.

iii) Patterns of windscreen damage and windscreen type

One reason that the Esher incidents look so abnormal is because of the large number of windscreens that are not just chipped or starred, but actually shattered. According to the information given in the ENA and others, of the 51 damaged vehicles 32 actually had their windscreens completely destroyed. Although much was made of this destruction at the time, this may come down to the windscreen types being used in the 1950s.

Virtually all modern cars have laminated windscreens which have a thin layer of rubbery plastic sandwiched between two layers of glass. When hit by an object a laminated windscreen will not shatter or frost over, it will merely produce a spider-web pattern. However, laminated glass was only just coming into regular use in the early 1950s and a great many cars travelling along the Portsmouth Road would have had windscreens that were made of tempered glass which, when hit by an object, shatters into thousands of small pieces. It is this shattering that produces the characteristic ‘frosted over’ effect that can still be seen in broken side and rear windows of modern cars.

This difference in design leaves tempered glass more open to shattering than laminated glass. The fact that in the early 1950s tempered glass was more common than laminated glass would explain why so many windscreens were shattered. The glass type is only mentioned in two of the Esher incidents; both of these were laminated windscreens and both received only minor damage, not shattering which, whilst not conclusive, does follow the above pattern.

Further evidence in favour of loose stones comes from the pattern of the windscreen damage. For a start, most of the damage was to windscreens suggesting that the missile was coming towards the vehicle. Whilst a sniper could hit windscreens, it would be more likely that they would end up taking out side windows instead. Only one side shot was reported and that was the ‘bullet hole’ in Frank Smith’s car door. A second piece of evidence comes from the area in which the windscreen was hit. Of the four reports in which the area of impact is listed, all are on the driver’s side of the car. This is significant because stones flicked into the air are usually done so by traffic going in the opposite direction, which means that the stones are most liable to hit the driver’s side. However, stones lifted by a car in front can hit the windscreen anywhere at all.

The noise of a stone hitting a windscreen, from first-hand experience, is like a loud, sudden crack. Some people associated this noise with the shot of a gun, but given that the weapon most commonly cited was an airgun, and that the noise always came with the damage, this is again better evidence of a stone than a gunman. A shot would be expected to be heard after the damage if the shot came from some distance away.

It is also possible that there was something wrong with the road surface between Esher and Cobham which led to a greater than usual amount of loose stones on the road although, given the large volume of traffic, an abnormal road surface would not be necessary to produce the level of damage seen.

Conclusions

Given the evidence cited here we feel that at least the majority, if not all, the incidents along the Portsmouth Road can be explained by loose stones on the road being flicked into the path of other cars.

This might well explain what caused the physical damage to the cars but it does not offer an insight as to why the town of Esher acted in the way it did when faced with a few damaged windscreens. In the next issue we shall look for an explanation behind this episode of mass panic and look at other incidents round the world where broken windscreens have lead to civil unrest.

Philosopher’s Corner: why people continue to see underwhelming psychics

0

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 4, from 2005.

My local pub recently held a psychic night. Between 4 o’clock and 11, punters paid £20 each for half an hour with a psychic they had never heard of, but whose posters said he had been on television and that he would not tell you anything bad. It was an irresistible sales pitch. Almost every session was sold.

The landlady of the pub, who had organised the whole thing, didn’t seem that impressed by him. She told me how the first time he did this at another pub she used to run, she asked everyone coming out what he had said to them. The answer was always the same: there would be a wedding and a baby in the offing.

Not only that, but she also revealed that every time he came he gave her and her husband a reading, and so far nothing he had said to them had come true. For example, they were supposed to have come into a life changing amount of money, but many lottery tickets later, nothing had happened. Her sister was supposed to have got herself a man, but she remained resolutely single. A new woman was due to enter her son’s life, but he already had a prodigious turnover of female companions anyway. Once he even gave her husband some specific lottery numbers which didn’t win.

I assumed, therefore, that the landlady had him down as a fraud or incompetent. And yet, that night the same failed psychic had told her she would come into money with another woman. And straight after telling me of his terrible record, she was on the phone to her sister telling her to send her some money so they could buy a lottery ticket together. “We’ve got nothing to lose, except 50p,” she says.

Of course, if the psychic is seeing the future, the windfall would happen whatever she did. So there was no need for her to buy a lottery ticket. But set that aside for one minute and think about her “we’ve got nothing to lose” attitude. How can we explain this, without simply dismissing the landlady as a stupid idiot who needs a good slap and a lesson in inductive reasoning? Well, just consider how close her reasoning is to two highly respectable arguments.

The first is the use of the precautionary principle. This roughly states that you should refrain from doing something with a potentially disastrous outcome unless, and until, you have enough evidence to conclude that the bad outcome is almost certain not to happen, or that the risks, though high, are outweighed by the benefits.

There are big questions about how exactly this rough definition should be filled out. But some kind of version of it is accepted by many sensible folk, including government scientific advisors and the Prime Minister Tony Blair, who back in 2002 said “Responsible science and responsible policymaking operate on the precautionary principle.”

Now go back to our landlady. The potential misfortune she was faced with was missing out on a large cash windfall. So she had a great deal to lose if the psychic was somehow right in a way that was conditional on her putting herself in a position where he could be right. What seemed to motivate her was therefore something rather similar to the precautionary principle: she should refrain from doing something that would rule her out of a potentially wonderful outcome because she did not have enough evidence to conclude that this good outcome was almost certain not going to happen; or that the cost of entering the lottery was outweighed by the potential benefits of winning it.

Of course I’m not saying this line of reasoning stands up, not least because the psychic’s track record would seem to you and I to provide all the evidence she needed that the cash dividend was not going to appear. All I’m saying is that you can see how a bit of wishful thinking, added to a lack of basic logic skills, which people are rarely taught, can lead someone to follow a perfectly reasonable principle in a misguided way.

Consider also the case of Pascal’s Wager. This is the famous argument that you ought to believe in God, because you can’t be sure if he exists; and if you believe and are wrong the price you pay is much less than if you don’t believe and are wrong, in which case you end up in hell.

It’s a bad argument, but many have been and still are persuaded by it, including very intelligent people like Blaise Pascal himself. And again, you can see how the landlady’s own thoughts pretty much echo his: entering the lottery costs me little and could earn me much, and not entering saves me little and could cost me enormously.

All this suggests to me that superstition and nonsense exert a grip on people in part because the reasoning that makes them think there may just be something in it is of a form which is both natural and, used properly, perfectly rational. And because there are also psychological reasons for wanting to reason in these fallacious ways, it can be very hard to show people they are just mistaken.

If I’m right then we can predict in an utterly non-supernatural way that in the battle against irrationality, many people who are not completely stupid will find our opponents much more seductive than us.

Rhyme, reason and numerology: All the ones

0

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 4, from 2005.

For two or three years at the end of the 1970s and the beginning of the 1980s I had an experience that got closer to driving me into paranormal modes of thought than anything else that’s ever happened to me. It was in the early days of digital clocks — they had been around for a few years by then but the analogue clock-face was only beginning to be challenged by the digital display and I also had my first digital watch at round about this time.

Over a period of a few months I became increasingly aware that when I looked at a digital clock or watch, the display was frequently showing either 11:11 or 1:11. This began to freak me out a little bit and I remember on some occasions, as I began to raise my arm to consult my watch, deliberately resisting the impulse and waiting for a minute or two — only to find that the watch nonetheless indicated 11:11.

Now I know that memory tends to embellish good stories as time goes on but I am pretty certain that, on average, I would see this preponderance of ones at least 10 times a week. Allowing for 8-hours sleep a night and assuming that I did not drop off before 1:12 am, there were 28 minutes when a digital clock would be exhibiting one of these two configurations out of the 6720 minutes during which I was awake in a week. Assuming that I consulted a (digital) clock or watch 20 times a day (surely an exaggeration) then this gives 140 consultations a week.

Putting these numbers together, yields the conclusion that I might have expected to see an all-ones display on average once every 12 weeks or so. Now this reasoning does not allow for the fact that one might be more likely to want to know the time close to lunchtime and bedtime and this would affect the calculation of probabilities somewhat but would be unlikely to affect the result by more than a factor of two or so — reducing the period between seeing 1111 displays to about six weeks.

And, indeed, this seems to agree with my experiences nowadays. But back in 1980, this was happening more than once a day and, having gone through this type of calculation, I was very perplexed. I don’t (and didn’t then) have any great tendency to believe that the cosmos was sending me coded messages but if, during this period, I had discovered that I was booked to fly with American Airlines from Boston to Los Angeles (flight AA11) on 11th November (with take-off delayed until 11:11), I really suspect that I might have been unwilling to get on the plane.

I eventually reasoned that this was actually a complicated psychological phenomenon revolving around the fact that clock/watch displays are frequently in our peripheral vision and we are not consciously aware of them; however, when this 1111 phenomenon had become firmly established in my mind, every time I became subconsciously aware of an all-ones display it crossed the boundary into my conscious mind and I registered it. Eventually, I guess I accepted this type of explanation and was thus less perturbed by the phenomenon until little-by-little it faded out so that by the mid-1980s it completely stopped occurring.

Had the web been around in 1980, however, I would not have accepted such an unlikely, sceptical, explanation and would have realised that I was experiencing a worldwide (cosmos-wide?) phenomenon. In reality:

the symbol of 11:11 was pre-encoded into our cellular memory banks long ago… It was placed into us, seared into our very fibers and DNA of our beings, as part of our preparations prior to beginning our cycles of incarnations upon the Earth… now with the dissemination of this information, the 11:11 is finally being activated

And, apparently:

11:11 is a wake-up call for lightworkers. Lightworkers are people who signed up for a ‘green beret’ type of mission when they were on the spirit plane (before being incarnated on Earth). What the mission is, in short, is to hold as much Light as possible, as strongly as possible, on this planet. This twenty-year period (starting on January 11, 1991) will see matter holding more light than it has ever held before. The vibration on this planet has dropped to a very, very low frequency. That is why it is so difficult to remember our origin, remember that we are all connected, remember who we really are. This is often referred to as the Fall. This mission is very important and very difficult.

To find more than you every wanted to know about this cosmically important phenomenon, just type “11:11” into Google.

Difficult it may be but if, after having had your awareness raised by this article, you start seeing 1111s everywhere please do your utmost to hold strongly on to reasonable quantities of Light in order to make a serious effort to increase our planet’s frequency.

Who The Devil Are You? Untangling the mythology surrounding Anton LaVey

0

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 3, from 2005.

My mother once put me on her knee and said to me:

“Son, let me give you a piece of advice; never trust journalists, politicians or anyone who believes in human sacrifice and claims they had a ‘vestigial tail’ removed due to their being genetically Satanic”.

Avoiding the first two at Goldsmiths College has been hard, but the latter character’s appearance is not often at the Union bar. Along with Aleister Crowley, Charles Manson and other messianic pop gurus, Anton LaVey served as the founder of the most controversial religion of the sixties, exercising principles of sacrifice and sexual orgies, claiming “life is the great indulgence, death the great abstinence”.

He served as the ideal bogeyman for the sensation-seeking American media of that tumultuous period. And did he want your soul? Well, he always claimed he had better taste than that…

Anton Szandor LaVey (1930-1997) was the High Priest of the Church of Satan, a notorious figure of the 1960s. A legend was created though interviews with journalists, discussions with his disciples, and two approved biographies, allegedly ghost-written by himself. The self-proclaimed ‘Black Pope’ claimed that he was introduced to the dark side by his Transylvanian gypsy grandmother, who regaled him as a child with supernatural folklore and tales of vampires and werewolves. His parents, Joseph and Augusta LaVey, gave birth to young Anton in Cook County, Illinois on 11 April 1930.

In 1945, the 15-year old was brought to post-war Germany by his uncle, a US Coastguard officer. There, he was shown top-secret films inspired by satanic cult lodges and their rituals. Once home, he played the second oboe with the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra, making him the youngest musician ever to play with the prestigious institution.

At 17, LaVey ran away with the Clyde Beatty Circus, where he was employed as a lion tamer. Once part of the family, he replaced the Circus calliope player. In 1948, 18-year old Anton was engaged to play organ at the Mayan burlesque theatre in Los Angeles. There, he met a young showgirl by the name of Marilyn Monroe, with whom he had a passionate love affair before her rise to film stardom. LaVey later in life showed visitors a copy of Monroe’s famous nude calendar inscribed “Dear Tony, How many times have you seen this! Love, Marilyn”.

In the early 1950s, LaVey became a photographer for the San Francisco Police, and was exposed to the savagery of human nature. Along with this, he studied criminology at the San Francisco City College during the Korean War. He bought a house, 6114 California Street, which became the infamous ‘Black House’, the headquarters of the Church of Satan. He bought this particular house upon the discovery that it was a former brothel of Barbary Coast madam Mammy Pleasant. The house was honeycombed with trapdoors and secret passageways, built by Pleasant to elude police raids.

On the night of 30 April 1966, at the German Satanic festival of Walpurgisnacht, LaVey pronounced the age of Satan had begun. In a ‘blinding flash’ he declared himself the High Priest of the Church of Satan, which he founded as a religious institution. His ethos was “nine parts social respectability (and) one part outrage!”. LaVey designed the Baphomet emblem as the official emblem of the Church of Satan. He wrote and published The Satanic Bible, his alternative scriptures. Later in life he wrote The Satanic Witch and The Satanic Rituals, selling in excess of a million copies.

LaVey claimed at the height of the religion’s popularity a formal membership of hundreds of thousands, including pop celebrities such as Marc Almond, Marilyn Manson, and Sammy Davis, Jr. On 31 October 1997, Halloween, sixty-seven year old LaVey died from heart failure.

The Truth is Out There

This legend of The Black Pope was somewhat tarnished a year later when on the 2 February 1998, Zeena LaVey, Anton’s daughter, revealed a number of truths on a web article entitled Anton LaVey: Legend and Reality. It brought to light the truth behind LaVey’s dark front. The truth is something quite different from the flamboyant dark prince America had loved to hate.

True parents Michael and Gertrude LaVey gave birth to Howard Stanton LaVey. Boy Beelzebub’s ancestry was in fact Ukrainian, not Transylvanian or of gypsy stock. Young Howard spent the entirety of 1945 in suburban north California, and had never visited Germany at any time of his life. The uncle whom he had claimed had brought him to Germany was incarcerated at McNeill Island Penitentiary for involvement with Al Capone-related criminal activity during 1945, and was never seen in the armed forces. Anyhow, the allied martial law forbade US citizens from entering postwar Germany. The ‘German’ rituals he wrote of later in his Satanic Rituals are poorly written, suspected unaccredited adaptations of the short story The Hounds of Tindalos by Frank Belknap Long and H. G. Wells’ famous novel The Island of Dr. Moreau.

It was found that there were only three oboists in the San Francisco Ballet Orchestra; none of them were named ‘LeVey’ or ‘LaVey’. The same absence of the devil was found in the circus records. No lion tamers, musicians, or bible burners were found under his name. Consistent with this trend, LaVey had never worked for the San Francisco Police department.

Another myth was squashed for the devil’s image in relation to Marilyn Monroe, for he never knew her. In 1948, Monroe’s agent exposed and discredited the tale. Diane LaVey, Anton’s former wife, admitted that she forged the inscription on the calendar. LaVey’s former publicist Edward Webber confirmed that he never knew Monroe.

The infamous Black House does not seem so chilling when behind the eerie exterior one finds that 6114 was his parents’ house. It had never been a brothel, nor did Mammy Pleasant ever work or live there. LaVey himself created any secret passages and hidden rooms that did exist.

After declaring the age of Satan in 1966, LaVey supplemented his income by presenting weekend lectures on exotic and occult topics. He conducted ‘Witches Workshops’, for which he charged $2 a head, filling his living room with the curious, and establishing himself as a local eccentric. When he found he would never make any money by lecturing, and following some careful advice from his publicist Edward Webber, the Church of Satan was created as a business and publicity vehicle. Howard took artwork from another source, plagiarising the Baphomet as his own.

The Church of Satan’s membership was grossly exaggerated by LaVey, never exceeding 300 individuals, several of whom were non-member subscribers to the newsletter or friends of LaVey receiving complementary mailings. Behind the dark curtain lay a poor relationship between LaVey and his wife, Highest Priestess Diane Hegarty.

In 1991, LaVey filed for bankruptcy, owning just 50% of the house his parents had given to him, which was in such bad condition as to be nearly worthless on the real estate market. Family members have attested to the fact that by the mid-1970s the LaVeys lived in near poverty, frequently having to rely on LaVey’s father’s generosity. LaVey continued to rely on handouts from friends and relatives until the end of his life.

LaVey violently beat his wife Diane throughout their marriage. In 1984, a police report was made, describing Diane being strangled into unconsciousness by LaVey, who was in such a murderous rage that his daughter Karla had to pull him off Diane and drag her outside the house to save her life. LaVey routinely beat and abused those of his female disciples with whom he had sex, forcing them into prostitution as part of his ‘Satanic Counseling’, while pocketing the earnings.

In 1986, LaVey was a passive witness to the sexual molestation of his own grandson by an old friend, later convicted of sex crimes with minors. In 1990, LaVey informed a mentally ill stalker of his daughter Zeena’s whereabouts and the time and location of a public appearance, thus endangering his own daughter’s life.

LaVey always portrayed himself as a great animal lover, keeping many pets. Yet in private he was cruel and neglectful to his pets, including Togare, his pet lion. He was given Togare as a cub in 1964 and was clearly ill-equipped to deal with such an exotic wild animal, despite his pretensions as a circus lion tamer. LaVey used an electric cattle prod to harm and frighten the lion. Animal rights activists protested against LaVey’s behaviour towards the lion, which led to his arrest. He was ordered to donate him to the San Francisco Zoo where, due to the early trauma in his life, he needed special care as he did at every animal care facility in which he lived.

The last myth concerning The Black Pope was of his death. An official investigation by the City of San Francisco determined that LaVey’s actual date of death was 29 October 1997, not Halloween. The date had been illegally written on the document.

When looking back in an objective historical context, the idea of a supernatural pioneer of the dark side seems intriguing to say the least. Yet a wealth of information concerning the man beneath the Devil’s horns reveals a sadder life than the paranormal legend created. So has LaVey converted me to Satan? Well, as Boy George once said, “I think I’d rather have a cup of tea”.

References

  • Belknap Long, F. (1975). Hounds of Tindalos. St.Albans: Panther.
  • LaVey, A. S. (1976). The satanic rituals. New York: Avon Books.
  • LaVey, A. S. (2001). The satanic bible (3rd ed.). New York: Avon Books.
  • LaVey, A. S. (2003). The satanic witch (3rd ed.). Los Angeles: Feral House.
  • LaVey, Z. & Schreck, N. (1998). Anton LaVey: Legend and reality.
  • Wells, H. G. (1996). The island of Dr Moreau. New York: Dover Publications.

The Mystery of Hellfire Pass: Part One

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 3, from 2005.

In the 1950’s the English town of Esher was apparently subjected to a three-year reign of terror by a phantom sniper. This lone gunman is alleged to have shot at dozens of motorists as they passed through the town, smashing their windscreens and causing other damage. No bullets or other missiles were found that could account for the damage and, despite a police manhunt, no suspect was ever brought to book.

The shootings raised serious concerns in the local community and the story even managed to make it into the national press. Despite its brief moment of fame, the actions of the phantom sniper were quickly forgotten and would have likely escaped attention altogether if the authors hadn’t spotted a reference to it in the book Stranger than Science written by Frank Edwards in 1959.

Edwards’ brief report led the authors to track down further references and eventually to uncover a whole series of events that, as far as we know, have remained hitherto uncommented upon by social historians. We will, over three issues of The Skeptic, fully document the Esher phantom sniper incidents, offer an explanation as to their cause, and briefly compare them to other similar incidents world-wide.

The start of the trouble

Esher is a small town located on the outskirts of south-west London in the county of Surrey. It is an ancient settlement built around an old Roman road which is now a major highway. This road, known as the Portsmouth Road or the old A3, runs north-south through Esher’s town centre and is a direct link between London and the south coast cities of Brighton and Portsmouth and was the focus of the phantom sniper incidents.

The geography and population of this region has changed little since the early 1950s. Although a bypass road, built in the 1960s, takes much of the traffic away from Esher, the Portsmouth Road remains a busy thoroughfare. The focus of the phantom sniper incidents was a 4 km stretch of the Portsmouth Road that runs between Esher in the north, to the town of Cobham in the south. Despite high population densities in the Surrey region, this stretch of road runs through largely unpopulated heath and common land before reaching the outskirts of Cobham. Other incidents mostly occurred in the more populated area to the north of Esher either on the Portsmouth Road or on some of the other large routes linking the Portsmouth Road with other London satellite towns such as Kingston, Surbiton and Thames Ditton.

The story of the phantom sniper is almost exclusively documented through the pages of The Esher News and Advertiser (ENA), a local weekly paper that was to become obsessed with this mystery. The ENA’s first mention of the phantom sniper comes from its edition of 12th January 1951. Under the title Hell-Fire Pass? a brief article mentions that since the beginning of December there had a been a spate of car windscreens being spontaneously shattered on the same short stretch of the Portsmouth Road between the towns of Esher and Cobham. The road had been nick-named by some motorists as ‘Hell-Fire Pass’. The ENA lists three incidents and interviews one of the drivers, a Mr H Tickner of Esher, whose description of his experience would come to characterise those of many people in the months to come:

On Tuesday morning Mr Tickner, of 90, High-Street, Esher, was driving his car towards Cobham when, as he was passing along the Fairmile, he saw a sudden flash, heard an explosion and his windscreen was starred so much that he was forced to pull up. A piece of the windscreen the size of a sixpence fell inside the car, and the spring holding the licence holder in position was shot on to the back seat. At the time no cars were coming towards him, but one had just passed him on the way to Cobham. He got out of the car, but could find no trace of any missile.

The other two witnesses are not interviewed but it is significant that the first person that the ENA cites as having been a victim of the sniper is the political journalist and well-known broadcaster Richard Dimbleby. The article indicates that Mr Dimbleby’s experience was well-known stating that: “it will be remembered that early last December Mr Richard Dimbleby, the well-known broadcaster, reported to Esher police that his windscreen had been hit, and it was at first supposed the missile was a .22 bullet”.

In a later article the ENA again asserts that the first acknowledged smashed windscreen was that of Richard Dimbleby, and gives an exact date of the 2nd December 1950 for the incident. Given the national fame of Mr Dimbleby, we wondered whether his encounter might not have been reported in other local or national papers. However, a search produced only one very brief mention of the incident in the 8th December edition of the London Evening Standard in which, at the bottom of an article about a BBC coach being hit by a bullet near Birmingham, it adds that: “recently Sonia Holm and her husband, and Richard Dimbleby were shot at when travelling in their cars”.

The recognition that there may be a serial sniper at work on ‘Hell-Fire Pass’ led to the ENA running two further articles on smashed windscreen incidents on the 26th January and 9th February 1951. In these articles it lists another four incidents to have occurred along ‘Hell-Fire Pass’ and speculates that either a sniper or loose stones on the road could be responsible. An editorial requests that either the highway authority or the police look into the issue as a matter of urgency. After this there is a break in the coverage of these incidents of several months.

The height of the panic

A stretch of road indicated on a map between Esher and Cobham with incident sites marked alongside it.

A sustained number of sniper incidents began on the 15th December 1951 when Mr S Jay, a teacher from Cobham, was driving south along the Portsmouth Road when he “heard a crack like a pistol and saw his complete windscreen frost over”. This was again covered by the ENA which blames a person with a “catapult, air-gun or a .22 rifle”.

Mr Jay’s smashed windscreen was to be the beginning of a prolonged period of local, and eventually national, interest in the strange happenings along the Portsmouth Road. By the 11th January 1952 the ENA had recorded 12 sniper incidents from the same stretch of the Portsmouth Road. By mid-March this total had risen to 14 and the nature of the ENA’s reporting had taken on a more serious tone with one article asking the authorities: “When will action be taken to end this menace at Esher?”

By now the ENA was firmly backing the idea of a sniper with an airgun being responsible, a position that would seem to be justified by the incident that occurred on the 20th March. On this date a Mr Frank C Smith from Thames Ditton was driving north along the Portsmouth Road when he “felt the car rock and pulled up to find out what happened”. On examining his car he was shocked to find a 9 mm hole in the driver’s door, about 8 cm below the door handle. It appeared as though somebody had taken a pot shot at him. The ENA ran a picture of a worried looking Mr Smith sitting in his damaged car and commented on the case:

A ballistic expert has since said that it was probably a .317 bullet, an unusual calibre for a British gun, but one quite common in Italy. If it was fired from a high bank along the side of the road, it might have ricochetted [sic] off the road surface before hitting the panel. If the gun had been aimed at the door, the bullet would have killed the driver.

Mr Smith’s incident marks a turning point in the history of the phantom sniper. From this moment on the concerns of the ENA and the local community were to be taken seriously by the police and the local council.

After the next series of smashed windscreens, which were reported within two weeks of Mr Smith’s shooting, the police began to patrol the Portsmouth Road and even instigated a detailed search of the surrounding common land. However, this did nothing to lessen the activities of the phantom sniper and by the 16th May the ENA had recorded a total of 20 incidents. It was at around this point that interest in the happenings at Hell-Fire Pass began to attract attention from outside the region. The shattered windscreen of Mr Eric Sykes, which occurred on the 9th May, is the first of the phantom sniper incidents to make it into the back pages of the London Evening Standard where the newspaper glibly states that the police are “looking for someone with a gun”.

During the following weeks yet more reports of damaged cars came flooding in. For the first time a car windscreen was shattered, not on the Portsmouth Road, but a couple of kilometres to the east on Copsem Lane which leads into the town of Oxshott. Not only was the phantom sniper spreading further afield, he was also becoming more adventurous in his shooting, hitting not only windscreens but also the headlights of an ambulance and a private motorist. In the light of these revelations the local council swept the Portsmouth Road between Esher and West-End Lane in the hope that loose stones, and not a gunman, might be the cause of the trouble.

The first national coverage came at this time in the form of an article which is referred to by the ENA. We could not track down where this national article was published, but the ENA reports that it put forward the idea that the sonic boom from low flying aircraft might be to blame. In an editorial on the matter, the ENA comments on this idea and ultimately rejects it in favour of a lone gunman stalking the Portsmouth Road. It also summarises its involvement in the development of the phantom sniper mystery:

Months ago, when we started to report it, we were alone. Then, via the county and evening Press, the affair reached the nationals. Last month, over eighteen months after the first incident, Esher Council took official notice of the matter. We are now waiting with bated breath for a question to be asked in Parliament. That, our readers will be interested to learn, is how the machinery of democracy creaks to an ultimate solution. But what an awful time it takes!

Again, incidents of broken windscreens kept on being reported but the sniper was also being held responsible for other crimes too, including the smashing of a shop and a pub window in Esher itself. Some of these incidents were accompanied by intense police activity, such as the broken windscreen of Mr V J Wood, which prompted ten constables to search surrounding woodland and undergrowth.

Complaints from local residents spurred the council to demand a statement from the Metropolitan Police on their plans to catch the sniper. “The ratepayers are entitled to know what actions are being taken,” wrote councillor N. Jones. The request eventually produced a reply from the Police Commissioner who said that a “special observation had been kept on the road by selected officers, and would be continued for a further period, but that at present there was no evidence to support the theory that the damage was being caused maliciously”. It was also mentioned that the Ministry of Transport had plans to investigate the matter. It is clear from these statements that the Metropolitan Police did not favour the sniper theory, but instead looked more kindly on the idea of loose stones causing the damage. Members of the council disagreed, and during a debate on the matter several councillors expressed their concern at the police’s attitude towards the problem. Councillor E Royston said, “There is a solid basis of concern, and it would be wrong for us to shrug our shoulders or laugh at it, and wrong to say that we know what the cause is”.

By September 1952 the number of incidents had reached at least 33 but there was yet to be found a single bullet, pellet or other missile in connection with these broken windows. To explain this, readers of the ENA were coming forward with their own theories including catapults, falling pine cones, and pellets made from frozen carbon dioxide (dry ice) that would melt on contact. Following attention from the national press, the police and the council, local interest was probably at a maximum during the period between May and September, but it was to tail off at the beginning of

October when the number of articles in the ENA decreased in number. It is noticeable that during August to October the reports of shattered windscreens came from not only the Portsmouth Road, but also from surrounding areas including East Molesey, Thames Ditton and Hinchley Wood. Between the 16th October and 1st December 1952 there were no reports of shattered windscreens at all, the longest period of quiet in nearly a year.

The final phase

The six weeks of quiet from the phantom sniper of Esher was in fact only a lull before he committed himself to one final burst of activity. In December 1952 five reports of broken windscreens were recorded in the ENA. More incidents in January begged the ENA to ask if a new phase of shootings was beginning, but despite this blip in activity, the number of reports was to only be a trickle in comparison to the previous year with the most serious incident being four windscreens shattered in the same week in April.

Other theories continued to be put forward. In February the Metropolitan Police informed the council that “in spite of intensive observation over a prolonged period, the police have no evidence that the damage is being caused maliciously”. In other words the police did not favour the sniper theory. Other theories were not so cautious. Gordon Slyfield wrote to the ENA to suggest an esoteric solution to the mystery:

The metaphysical theory must not therefore be ruled out. I am familiar with the physical results attached to psychical phenomena of the séance room. If there is a powerful spiritualist medium dwelling on this road, he or she may be ignorant and need not go into a trance… A rod of ectoplasm proceeding from the medium is strong enough so that an entity can lift physical objects. This is what happens with poltergeist phenomena in the presence of adolescents.

If such an entity were the spirit of a dastardly highwayman, might not he still operate against lawful users of the highway? It may therefore be a case for the Institute of Psychical Research to lay an unhappy spirit.

In a reply to this, G Bird says: “Why stop at earthbound highwaymen firing ectoplasmic bullets; why not the vibrations of harps twanged by little men landing from flying saucers?” Mr Bird goes on to express local belief in a gunman and suggests that local patrols could be the answer to catching the culprit. These debates in May 1953 largely mark the end of the incidents on the Portsmouth Road. After this time there was only to be another five reports of broken windscreens, three of which did not occur in the local region. As the number of weeks increased between articles, one definitely gets the impression that local interest in the matter had died, and the ENA was reduced to making the odd report near the back of the paper. The last report is from their 11th December 1953 issue, when a Mrs L Perry reported having her windscreen shattered while driving in Ealing, a location many kilometres north-west of Esher. There was also a brief mention in FATE of aeroplane windscreens being broken whilst flying over Esher, but no further references could be found for this.

By our reckoning the phantom sniper of Esher was active over a period of almost exactly three years, during which time at least 51 individual incidents were recorded. A single bullet was never recovered, nor a culprit seen, let alone apprehended. Interest in the mystery was rapidly forgotten, although a series of articles did appear on it in FATE magazine upon which Frank Edwards wrote a small section for his book Stranger than Science which was in turn the basis of one further article in the Fortean Times.

So, after three years of intense activity by both the sniper and the press, the mystery was no nearer to being resolved. Who or what was breaking the windscreens? There was no shortage of theories, both rational and irrational, and these will be the subject of our next article.

David Langford’s skeptical ‘Skrapbook’

This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 18, Issue 3, from 2005.

Unlike Hilary Evans, I don’t have a picture library, but in twenty-odd years of freelance writing and reviewing I’ve collected various prose fragments which seem vaguely relevant to The Skeptic and its readers. Here’s a random dip into the sceptical scrapbook, or Skrapbook for short …

* * *

US critic Edmund Wilson (1952) concludes his essay on Houdini with a couple of catty anecdotes:

The real situation, however, is of course that with the people who frequent séances, the difficulty is not for the mediums to convince them that the phenomena are genuine but for the tricksters to handle things so badly as to make their clients suspicious. A friend of mine was once told by a professional medium of a séance that had gone wrong when he had found that he could not get his hand free; he had tried to represent the spirit by touching the client with his cheek and then in a panic remembered that he had not yet shaved that day; but the lady allayed this fear, as soon as the séance was over, by telling him that the manifestations that day had been certainly their most successful, since the supernatural essence of the spirit head startlingly communicated itself by a sharp electrical pricking. One thinks also of the French savant who, as a result of methodical research, undertaken at the behest of the government, reported his success in establishing that spirits had hair on their heads, that they were warm, that they had beating hearts, that their pulse could be felt in their wrists, and that their breath contained carbon dioxide.

* * *

Terry Pratchett (personal communication, 1991) reminisces about strange encounters in the days before he reached best-selling fame:

I remember, as a journalist, patiently investigating the claims of some apparently perfectly normal people who had, once you worked out the details of the glowing hemisphere that they had seen, watched the sun set.

* * *

Julius Caesar (1980, translated by A. & P. Wiseman) whose interest in nature rarely went beyond the availability of trees to be felled and converted into endless bridges or fortifications, veers aside to discuss German wildlife for a couple of delirious paragraphs in which he seems to be channelling Herodotus:

There is an ox shaped like a deer; projecting from the middle of its forehead between the ears is a single horn that is straighter and sticks up higher than those of the animals we know, and at the top spreads out like a man’s hand or the branches of a tree. The male and female are alike, with horns of the same shape and size. There are also creatures called elks. These resemble goats in their shape and dappled skins, but are slightly larger than goats and have only stumpy horns. Their legs have no joints or knuckles, and they do not lie down to rest: if they fall down by accident, they cannot get up or even raise themselves. When they want to sleep they use trees: they support themselves against these, and in this way, by leaning over just a little, they get some rest. When hunters have noticed their tracks and so discovered their usual retreats, they undermine the roots of all the trees in that area, or cut the trunks nearly through so that they only look as if they were still standing firm. When the creatures lean against them as usual, their weight is too much for the weakened trunks; the trees fall down and the elks with them.

* * *

A lady friend passed on this tale (Maple, 1964) of a 19th-century haunting with the delighted comment, “I may have found a vocation for my old age:”

Early in the 19th C, […] the ghost was first seen by a discharged soldier on tramp, a wild man who had broken every commandment and whose conscience was overloaded with crimes… One night, unable to find a sleeping place in the workhouse, he made up a bed for himself in a corner of one of the wards. He was discovered in the morning a changed man. He […] described the apparition in tones of terror. A thing had descended the stairs at night on three hoofish legs and with a voice like that of a roaring jackass bellowed through a grating where he was sleeping. It was a dreadful nightmare which came night after night. Watch was kept, and one night an old woman who walked with a stick was caught roaring and braying through the grating. Asked to explain herself, she said that this was her way of converting the tramp to a Christian way of life.

* * *

Diana Wynne Jones (personal communication, 1991), a leading children’s fantasy author whom genre insiders rate much higher than J.K. Rowling, sings the praises of Alternative Medicine:

I don’t think I’ve ever been so ill so long and so bizarrely. I mean, I know ridiculous things are always happening to me, but who else in your acquaintance gets themselves poisoned by a homeopath? My agent kept ringing me up and protesting, “But they mix it with water so many times that they don’t give you enough to poison you!” Yes, they did. Did you know that in the back-to-front world of homeopathy, the more times you dilute a given poison, the more potent it is said to be? The one I went to kept bleating that she knew I was likely to react strongly, so she only gave me a very low potency – in other words, she gave me quite a hefty dose of some obscure poison, and my body, being unacquainted with Looking Glass World medicine, promptly went on the blink for three months. I feel quite sorry for it.

Which reminds me that after an uncritical BBC programme on homeopathy in the 1980s, the author Bob Shaw (sadly no longer with us) sent a wide-eyed letter to the Radio Times asking whether, by the theory of Dilution Is Strength, you should give children twice as many pills as you would take yourself. He was severely dealt with in the letter column. Any dilution or addition made by a layman, it seems, would not be a true homeopathic process and would not count; and the kids should get a half pill just as in real life. The logic of all this is elusive.

* * *

By eerie coincidence – or can this be coincidence? – SF author Ian Watson and our old friend Colin Wilson offered the identical insight into mathematics just a few years apart:

The moment you draw a circle, pi exists. Yet it’s entirely irrational. There’s no rational answer to the sum ‘twenty-two over seven’. You can divide twenty-two by seven for ever but you never get a real definite answer (Ian Watson, 1977).

Ironically, the Pythagorean ideas suffered their greatest blow through one of the master’s most interesting discoveries – the so-called irrational numbers. The ratio of the diameter of a circle to its circumference is 3 1⁄7. But if you try to turn this into decimals, it is impossible; the decimal for one-seventh begins .142857, and then repeats itself an infinite number of times.” (Colin Wilson, 1980).

For non-mathematicians, I should note that this is doubly silly. First, 3 1⁄7 (another way of writing 22⁄7) is only a rough approximation to the value of the mathematical constant . Second, a rational number is simply the ratio of two whole numbers – if pi equalled 22⁄7 it would be rational by definition. All repeating decimal numbers (like 22⁄7 = 3.142 857 142 857 …) are provably rational; the tricky thing about pi is that it doesn’t repeat in that simple-minded way.

* * *

Again in the world of science fiction, I’ve been hearing about the Seattle-based rock band Blöödhag which promotes books and whose lyrics are all about SF authors. For example, this haunting couplet from the song “Alfred Bester”:

When Campbell fell under L Ron’s spell
Alfred said, “Man, you can fucking go to Hell.”

Of course Bester (1976), an author with a living to earn, said nothing of the sort when John W. Campbell – the incredibly influential editor of Astounding SF magazine – fell for Dianetics in the 1950s and started babbling things like, “It was discovered by L. Ron Hubbard, and he will win the Nobel Peace Prize for it”. Bester describes the embarrassing lunch with Campbell that followed:

Suddenly he stood up and towered over me. “You can drive your memory back to the womb,” he said. “You can do it if you release every block, clear yourself and remember. Try it.”

“Now?”

“Now. Think. Think back. Clear yourself. Remember? You can remember when your mother tried to abort you with a buttonhook. You’ve never stopped hating her for it.”

Around me there were cries of “BLT down, hold the mayo. Eighty-six on the English. Combo rye, relish. Coffee shake, pick up.” And here was this grim tackle standing over me, practising dianetics without a license. The scene was so lunatic that I began to tremble with suppressed laughter. I prayed, “Help me out of this, please. Don’t let me laugh in his face. Show me a way out.” God showed me. I looked up at Campbell and said, “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Campbell, but the emotional wounds are too much to bear. I can’t go on with this.”

He was completely satisfied. “Yes, I could see you were shaking.”

* * *

Finally, a recent bulletin from Whitley Strieber (2002) reveals what hideous fate lies in store for courageous men like himself who oppose the global UFO cover-up conspiracy…

What has been happening to me is this: every night as I go to sleep, something begins moving against my skin, creeping like some sort of very slow insect. I have seen and held this object. I have tried to crush it. But I cannot. I cannot get a sample. It seems like a living thing, but I do not believe that it is alive in the same sense that we are.

About a week ago, I woke up and found it penetrated into my chest just above my collarbone. I pulled it out and tried to crush it between my fingers, to gouge it with my fingernail. It struggled furiously in my hand. It would not break up. I turned on the light and sat up, with the intention to take it into the bathroom and capture it in a water glass. But when I relaxed my grip just a little, it disappeared before my eyes, for all the world like some kind of a magic trick.

It has tormented me night after night….

Some of us suspect that the great man would do well to abstain from cheese at bedtime. Further Skrapbook instalments may follow, unless my editors think better of it.

References

  • Bester, A. (1976). Starlight. 1976 New York: Berkley.
  • Caesar, J. (1980). The battle for Gaul. (A. Wiseman & P. Wiseman, Trans.). London: Chatto & Windus Ltd.
  • Maple, E. (1964). The realm of ghosts. London: Hale.
  • Strieber, W. (2002). The coming of the dark side and how we can defend ourselves. Retrieved 4 January 2004
  • Watson, I. (1977). Alien embassy. London: Gollancz.
  • Wilson, C. (1980). Starseekers. London: Hodder and Stoughton.
  • Wilson, E. (1952). The shores of light. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Young.