Copyright Reading Eagle
For information on submitting an obituary, please contact Reading Eagle by phone at 610-371-5018, or email at obituaries@readingeagle.com or fax at 610-371-5193. Most obituaries published in the Reading Eagle are submitted through funeral homes and cremation services, but we will accept submissions from families. Obituaries can be emailed to obituaries@readingeagle.com. In addition to the text of the obituary, any photographs that you wish to include can be attached to this email. Please put the text of the obituary in a Word document, a Google document or in the body of the email. The Reading Eagle also requires a way to verify the death, so please include either the phone number of the funeral home or cremation service that is in charge of the deceased's care or a photo of his/her death certificate. We also request that your full name, phone number and address are all included in this email. All payments by families must be made with a credit card. We will send a proof of the completed obituary before we require payment. The obituary cannot run, however, until we receive payment in full. Obituaries can be submitted for any future date, but they must be received no later than 3:00 p.m. the day prior to its running for it to be published. Please call the obituary desk, at 610-371-5018, for information on pricing. Today’s antiques could be tomorrow’s antiquities. Likewise, the antiquities from thousands of years past hold an almost timeless fascination for beholders. Why do we collect things? What makes an everyday object eventually transform into an antique or an item of antiquity? Is it nostalgia, a predilection for a certain thing that summons memories, a methodology to transform trash into cash, a fetish, a form of mental illness related to hoarding, an inability to let go, a desire to stay connected, wanting to share and teach and thus spread knowledge and wisdom, or perhaps, a grip from an unknown by an unseen captor that has a need to cling to the living in order to draw energy from the life-force exuded by the hapless victim? This is a tale of antiquity, an antique pocket watch and the mist of the vampire banished to it for all time. Neither male nor female, the spirit of the sanguinary vampire, that which feeds on psychic energy rather than blood, exists through millennia by attaching itself to common items of the home that are frequently in close contact with their mortal owners. A skilled sanguinarian is able to project alluring, tempting and seductive energies from their object of choice so the object becomes a thing of constant need or admiration for the mortal owner. Objects infected with a sanguinary spirit are often handed down through lines of family blood for several generations, and this allows the spirit within to infect and affect many as time passes. Only rarely does the spirit manifest itself in semiphysical form, and this occurs usually at times of the year when the veil between the spirit world and the mortal world is at its thinnest, those times being at Halloween, in October, as longer days fade into longer nights, and during Walpurgisnacht in April, as shorter days grow into longer ones. At these times, if a sanguinary spirit has been neglected due to an absence of a mortal host, it may need to transfer itself into another physical thing. To do this the spirit eases out of its current host object, just as a hermit crab moves from one shell to the next, and then, borne on the wind, travels until it finds the object of its desire. This transference time is the only time mortals can perceive the spirit. It appears as a puce-colored mist, smoke or vapor, exuding the malodorous aroma of an unhealed, pustulant wound freshly burst under the pressure of its own ripening. Have you ever smelled a foul odor or seen a dark red mist, but for no reason and without any logical point of origin? The dark red mist, also known as the vampire mist, is said to be vaporized blood that causes an unpleasant odor. In short, the spirit must expel these things every few centuries or so, then move on to find a new source of energy to feed upon. Some of these ancient spirits go on to gather enough strength to become corporeal, then walk among the living seeking not energy but blood, while others never manage to steal enough energy to corporealize. Such was the case of the spirit in the pocket watch collection of Mr. Webster Loach. A generational farmer, Loach’s interest in pocket watches began in his teens when his grandfather gifted him with a modest collection of railman and similar pocket watches. As the years went by, Loach felt the urge to collect more pocket watches, and he took to carrying a few of them with him everywhere he went. People thought it very odd to see Loach take out and confer with no less than three or four pocket watches at all times of day and night in social settings. By the time Loach had reached his 70th year on Earth, he had amassed a collection of more than 400 pocket watches from all over the world. His collection consumed the living spaces of his modest farmhouse, and one watch in particular had become part of his being as if glued permanently to his body and soul. To observers, Loach seemed obsessed with the watch, at times cleaning and talking to it at the same time. Loach often went hungry, preferring to buy watches over buying food. His lands fell into disuse. His home became a wretched shambles of a once cozy abode. He grew restless, listless, ill and eventually died of malnutrition and ramifications of manic depression. To the outside world it seemed as if the man intentionally abused himself by denying himself basic sustenance and comfort, but to others, those who knew the outward signs of spirit possession, it was clear that the abuse was coming from without, not from within. Was it a sanguinary spirit in the watch that destroyed the life of Mr. Loach or was it just human frailty? No one will ever know for sure, but seeing as his heritage was from the New Orleans Creole region, his next of kin were contacted to examine the body and prepare it for burial. Upon doing so, the watch, that watch, the instrument of what was recognizable to those who could discern it, was identified as a spirit habitat and as such, it was decided that the watch should be buried with Loach. Buried for more than a century, no grass, no weeds, no living thing grows on the area of the grave covering where Loach’s body, with its left waistcoat pocket, the pocket containing that pocket watch, are interred. A sign? A clue? Evidence? In such cases, wise, experienced believers in such entities advise that the bearer of such collections should immediately divest themselves of these material things and never think about them again. This methodology is the best defense against having one’s energy and life-force slowly drained away. Naturally, as with any so-called addiction, giving up things that are coveted can be alarmingly difficult and nearly impossible. Each must draw their own conclusion. Is the thing that’s being collected causing lack of sleep, loss of energy, conflict of thought, remorse or regret of any kind? Or is the thing a simple, harmless pleasure or pastime, a curiosity worth perpetuating? Only the bearer can know the answer to these questions. Happy Halloween. Dave Kline is an award-winning writer, photographer, show host and producer, singer-songwriter, travel guide and community advocate. Reach him at davesmountainfolklore@gmail.com. Originally Published: October 22, 2025 at 5:00 AM EDT
