Files From the Edge

by Philip J. Imbrogno

  He tried to approach the light but it seemed to keep its distance. He stopped in his tracks and felt compelled to say, “Please, come closer. I am a scientist who is interested in what you are.” After he said this, the light began to approach him. His camera contained only standard film, but he raised it anyway and took five frames before the light vanished. He stayed on Reservoir Road for another hour, then drove along Lower Magnetic Mine Road, and back to Reservoir, but didn’t see anything. Over the next five years, he returned to Reservoir Road with an array of scientific equipment, but never had another sighting. My friend mailed me copies of the prints he took that night proving that the phenomenon, whatever it was, could indeed be captured on film. The images he sent me were very faint and somewhat underwhelming, but there was definitely something with him that night beyond all conventional explanation.

  After reading more than two dozen reports and looking at several blurred photographs of the Reservoir Road spook light phenomenon, it was obvious to me that something new had to be tried. Commercial cameras are set to focus on visible light; any attempt to image electromagnetic energy beyond this range would result in a faint, blurry photo or no image at all. I conjectured that the phenomenon may be giving off another form of energy absorbed by the air, resulting in a slight increase in IR radiation when remitted. This could be the reason, I concluded, why images of the spook light look faint even when commercial infrared film is used. I felt this IR signature was only a secondary effect. If I wanted to capture the spook light of Reservoir Road on film, it was clear to me the source of its energy would have to be positively identified. After much consideration, I came to the conclusion that an initial ultraviolet source might be responsible for creating the faint heat signature on infrared film. A UV source would also explain the strange feeling of “ants” crawling on the skin that some people reported.[5] So, in the summer of 1994, I began an experiment with the hope of obtaining an image of the spook light using a special type of film once used in astronomy called 103ao-8.[6] This film is very hard to acquire and must be kept in cold storage before and after use. It is developed in Kodak D-19 (a special developing chemical) and one must have access to a dark room to process it. Being involved in astronomy, I was lucky to have one 24-exposure roll in the freezer at the observatory. Manufactured by Kodak, the film is blue sensitive. When used with the proper filter, the film has a sensitivity peak around 200 nanometers, well into the ultraviolet range. Using this film would ensure that any other light would be blocked out and the resulting image would be of UV only. I was now prepared to visit the “ghost’s” haunting grounds and attempt to document its existence and perhaps even prove my theory.

  My Investigation and Sighting

  I arrived at Reservoir Road at about midnight, parked my car alongside the road and got out to take a look. Everything seemed very quiet and I thought that this just might be a waste of time—I would rather be home watching television. The night was clear and since it was late July, it was rather hot and humid. After fifteen minutes or so, my eyes adapted to the dark and I looked toward the northwest section of the road. There, I noticed a blotch of faint light that appeared like a fog illuminated by an external source. I started walking down the road and the closer I got, the less diffuse it appeared. It was still about 75 feet from me and was quite faint, but as I slowly moved closer, the object took shape into something round and about the size of a beach ball. The sphere hovered about 5 feet above the road and as I continued to approach the light, it slowly moved backward trying to keep its distance. I decided to walk back to the car and get the camera and tripod—if this was the famous spook light of Reservoir Road, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to photograph it. Knowing how fleeting the phenomena was; I thought this might be my only chance.

  As I walked back to the car, the light (which was still barely visible) seemed to be coming closer . . . it was moving very slowly and reminded me of a curious but cautious animal. I set up the camera to use a shutter release and a timed exposure of five to thirty seconds. I took a number of photos but really didn’t know what to expect; the light appeared to be a faint nebulous sphere to the eye. Readers who have seen the Ring Nebula through a telescope know what I am describing. After taking ten frames, the object could no longer be seen visually. I continued to take photos, knowing my film would pick up an invisible UV source. As I exposed the last frame, I gently rewound the film and placed it in a cold storage container. Since the night was quite warm and the film was sensitive to heat, I drove home quickly to develop it.

  I arrived home and developed the film in my own darkroom. To my surprise, eight frames showed an incredibly bright light source. This was amazing—what I was trying to image on the road appeared like nothing more than a faint blob but on the UV film it was blazing! There was no doubt now that whatever the object was, it emitted energy in the UV spectrum. Since human eyes are not sensitive to this wavelength, it would appear very faint to us if visible at all. The combination of the film and the filter blocked out all other wavelengths of stray light in the area; only a very strong UV source was recorded. When I printed the photographs, I noticed the light appeared to be changing shape and frequency. This proved two things to me: the spook light of Reservoir Road in Brewster really exists and my theory that this phenomenon emits light in the blue end of the visible spectrum was correct. This information is important: I had proven that 103ao-7, 8, or 9 film is perfect for photographing this type of paranormal event. Unfortunately, the film is very hard to find today because most astronomers now use digital imaging; demand has dropped so low that Kodak no longer offers it. However, UV-sensitive films are still out there and it may be possible to create a digital card that can record the blue end of the spectrum.

  A Covert Operation

  After imaging the spook light, I was determined to find the entrance to the underground tunnels; my first objective was to locate the Croton Magnetic Mine because a great deal of paranormal phenomenon seemed to be associated with it. Local residents also suspected the military was using the old mines for some type of covert operation. I wanted to investigate any possible military involvement and find any evidence that could support these suspicions. So, in late summer of 1994, I began taking a closer look at locations that had a great number of reports of not only government activity but also paranormal phenomena. I decided to take a hike through the woods near the Croton Falls Reservoir in the town of Southeast. This particular location has had more than its fair share of otherworldly events over the past ten years so I thought it would be a good place to start. The land around the reservoir is sparsely populated; if you were going to hide some type of covert operation in an otherwise densely populated area of the United States, this would be the place to do it!

  As I walked through the woods and down some of the more established back trails, I noticed tire marks made by small trucks that appeared to have four-wheel drives. The tread marks were wide and deep—typical of military-type vehicles—but I was cautious in my conclusions: they could have been made by hunters driving up to the paths looking for deer. I proceeded down Reservoir Road and came to another blocked-off road. On the map, the road was labeled “Upper Magnetic Mine Road.” I continued to walk and saw quite a few “No Trespassing” signs on the trees posted every 30 feet. I began to walk up the narrow road and noticed fresh tire marks made by a jeep. As I proceeded farther up the road, I noticed large stones containing iron ore scattered around—evidence that the mine entrance was near.

  Suddenly, I heard someone behind me. I turned and saw a police office running up the trail yelling, “Stop and go no farther!” I was a little surprised, but stopped. The officer introduced himself as a member of the Putnam County Sheriff’s Department and informed me that I was trespassing on federally owned land and that no one was allowed up the road. When I tried to get more details from the officer, he refused to answer and told me that he only had orders to keep people out of the area. I was then escorted b
ack to my car and was told to follow him. The officer led me to Route 22, a major road in Brewster that led all the way to lower Westchester County, about 20 miles away. I stopped my car as the officer pulled over to the shoulder of the road and got out of his cruiser. He approached me and said in a very serious tone, “Mr. Imbrogno, if you are caught trespassing in that area again the Sheriff’s Department will have to arrest you.” I left, but knew I had to come back and find out what was at the top of that hill.

  I returned to check out the area two weeks later. In order to avoid the “No Trespassing” signs, I decided to try and find my way through the opposite side of Route 22 in Brewster. I parked my car near the side of the road and walked into the woods. It was difficult to approximate where the location of the top of Upper Magnetic Mine Road was from my position in the woods. After walking for thirty or forty minutes and periodically checking a map, I came to a ridge that overlooked a driveway with a small house and a number of smaller buildings surrounding it. My position was about a hundred meters away and located high enough above the house, allowing me to see all of the roof and most of the structure.

  As I pulled out my binoculars, a jeep drove up the dirt path and parked outside the house. Two professionally dressed men got out. They had short hair and looked like police or federal agents. I was able to get a good view of them using the binoculars; my impression was that they were military or government types. The men entered the house, which from my view point showed no signs of drapes or other things that would indicate a home. There were no plants or flowers in the yard and the entire property appeared quite bland, even sterile. My first thought was that it was a well-hidden “safe house” being used by federal agents. It was strange to find a house so deep in the woods on an isolated dirt road with only one way in and out. I discovered later that this dirt path connected to Upper Magnetic Mine Road. The jeep did not have a New York or Connecticut plate; it was blue and white in color with just a number I could not make out: this type of marker is typical on vehicles a government agency uses. The jeep itself was white and appeared more civilian than military but then again, intelligence organizations like the CIA and NSA use modified vehicles of a similar nature.

  I also noticed a number of power lines and telephone cables on poles running to the house and the small buildings that surround it; someone had gone through a great deal of trouble and expense to maintain this installation. As I continued to watch, two large dogs came out of the house and started patrolling the area. They came to the bottom of the ridge where I was lying down and started looking in my direction. Although the dogs were too far away to definitely identify, they appeared to be two large Rottweilers. I was a little nervous since the dogs seemed to know I was there and started barking. At that point, one of the men came out of the house with binoculars and started scanning the hill where I was hiding. As he scanned across the ridge, he stopped and locked in on my position.

  For a brief moment, it looked like were were staring at each other—remember, I was using binoculars too. I felt very uneasy since there was no way he could have gotten a visual on my position because I was camouflaged by the brush. The man must have been using some type of high-tech thermal detector because my feeling was that this person definitely saw me. The man quickly ran back inside, and the dogs continued to bark although they did not advance. I knew I had to leave the area, so I carefully and quietly made my way back through the woods to my car. I guess my military combat training paid off that day—I was able to obtain information and slip away without getting caught. I wondered just who these men were and why the local police went out of their way to make sure no one traveled up that road. Most importantly, what was it they wanted to keep secret? I decided to let some time pass before trying to check out the location again, but a number of personal family matters prevented me from returning to my research for some time.

  A Hidden Underground World

  On a hot summer day one year later, I decided to walk up Upper Magnetic Mine Road again. It had been some time since the warning from the police officer, so there was a good chance that if caught I would not be arrested. Besides, the fine for trespassing in Putnam County is only fifty dollars—a fair price to pay to see what was on top of the trail. This time I was not alone; with me was Marianne Horrigan, a fellow author who has worked with me on a number of paranormal investigations. We made it all the way to the top of the dirt road without harassment and there was no indication that anyone was around—even the “No Trespassing” signs were taken down. As we continued, the dirt road turned into a trail and we began to feel a cool breeze. I knew the breeze was caused by an opening inside the earth; during my spelunking days I learned cave openings hidden by brush were often found this way.

  I began to notice signs of occult activity everywhere: symbols such as inverted pentagrams and the names of fallen angels were painted on the larger boulders and exposed bedrock. We then turned a slight corner, saw the opening of the Croton Magnetic Mine, and stopped dead in our tracks. The mine adit was an amazing sight and looked like something from a science-fiction movie. Alongside the mine entrance were the names of Satan and his fallen angels in red paint. It was now very apparent to me why locals called this old mine “Satan’s Cave.” Here was the exact location where the cult known as the Fallen Ones performed their demonic ceremonies at the turn of the twentieth century.

  The mine entrance was partially sealed with rocks and dirt, but this didn’t stop us from digging it out. As I opened up the adit, we noticed the main tunnel went underground about 10 feet and was flooded. There was no way that we could explore this mine today—the water was so deep that we’d need a raft. I turned my attention to the house where I had seen the dogs and the two men. According to my notes, it was just above the trail to our left, less than 200 meters away. We walked up the trail and saw the house; it looked abandoned and the smaller buildings around it turned out to be storage areas. We went inside the house and found it trashed. It was as if someone wanted to get out of there fast and destroyed any evidence that would connect the structure to any agency or operation.

  We left the house and explored the grounds. I found an electrical power junction box with circuit breakers rated at several hundred kilowatts. I wondered who could use that kind of electrical power and for what purpose? It was possible that the house was used as a base of operations for some recent activity in the mine. The next step in my investigation was to purchase the proper equipment and, I hoped, return a week later to explore the mine.

  The Gateway to Hell

  The next few days were spent looking through old mining journals; Marianne and I even made a trip to the New York City Public Library where we found articles in scientific journals about the mines and a layout of tunnels dated 1901. I wanted to get as much information as possible before venturing back where no one had gone in almost a century. This was an investigation in which I needed some help, and Marianne was more than happy to journey with me inside the mine. After purchasing rope, proper clothing as well as an inflatable raft, we were ready to start our adventure. We arrived at the adit of the Croton Magnetic Mine early in the morning and noticed a mist coming out of the entrance; I learned later the phenomenon was known as “the devil’s breath.” It actually has nothing to do with the devil and has a scientific explanation: the mist is formed when the cold air coming out of the mine hits the warmer and humid air outside, causing condensation.

  We inflated the raft and dropped it into the water. After we were properly seated, I took the front with the light and Marianne used the paddle to propel us into the darkness. The water in the tunnel was red due to the iron ore being turned into rust and reminded me of blood. As we approached the main chamber, I shined the light on the wall ahead and noticed writing: “ABANDON HOPE YE THAT ENTER—THIS IS THE GATEWAY TO HELL”. The words were painted in white and judging from their position on the wall in relation to the water level, were written before the mine flooded. Marianne and I
spent five or six hours exploring this mine; I could fill several chapters describing geologic wonders we saw, but perhaps most interestingly, we found tunnels that were not in the 1901 mining journals. These tunnels seemed recently made using modern equipment. We also noticed that many of these new tunnels only extended 20 or 30 feet and were sealed off by rock and dirt. The sealing also seemed recent, and it appeared as if someone went through a great deal of trouble to cover their tracks.

  The tunnels were so dark that when the flashlights were turned off nothing could be seen. It was quite an unsettling thought that someone could be standing right next to you and unless you shined the light on them you wouldn’t have a clue! As we explored the tunnels, we often stopped just to listen to the echoes. The entire time we were in the mine, there was a sound coming from the water behind us as if we were being followed the entire way. Also, when we stopped and listened, we could hear a moaning sound from the darkness ahead. Was it the ghost of a miner, or just the wind? We never found out for sure. Although we did not see any hooded beings, spook lights, or aliens that day, I did confirm much of my research concerning the occult connection with the mine and that the house was used for some type of covert operation. Over the next year, we explored the other mines and found new tunnels and other evidence to indicate that someone was using them long after the mining days of Brewster ended.