Claimer: Some things come with a disclaimer, stating that some of the information presented may not be accurate. This is a “claimer.” The following is true. I have included nothing that I do not directly remember and that I have not also confirmed with my eye-witness. Keep that in mind as you read.
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This happened around 1976 or 1977. I was looking for a new job, and ran across an ad for a “social worker” dealing with drug addicts. My experience in social work was extremely limited. On the other hand, ever since I’d walked across the street to a newspaper office and landed myself a column, getting jobs for which I was hardly qualified had started to seem normal, so I figured I had nothing to lose.
I arrived at the address on St. Clair Ave. West (north side), and was ushered into the storefront operation by a tall black man who moved slowly and deliberately, but never said a word. On the right was a large room suitable for group meetings, but he took me to the room on the left, which was obviously an office. It contained a lovely wooden desk, a couple of comfortable chairs facing it, and a wooden cabinet with closed doors along one wall. The head of the operation sat behind the desk, a short black man with a neatly trimmed beard. I sat in one of the chairs for the interview. The taller man didn’t leave, but neither did he do anything else. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just stood in a corner. The man behind the desk, whose name I forget, told me he had a new method of dealing with addicts that had proved successful in his native Haiti, and he was expanding his operation in Canada.
Following our discussion, he agreed to take me on, and I headed home.
The whole thing struck me as extremely strange, however, and I turned around and went back. When I was in his office again I said, “Look, I don’t really care what you’re doing, but I have to know. What is really going on here?”
After thinking for a moment, he opened up the wooden cabinet, revealing a mass of candles and some very real-looking human skulls. He then proceeded to tell me that he had an army of zombies in Haiti — that in fact, the tall black man was one of them — and he wanted to do the same thing here.
Well, that explained everything. It was, after all, the ’70s, and weird cults and “spiritual leaders” were pretty much a dime a dozen. It was an interesting conversation, but I left knowing there was no way I was going to get involved.
At home, I told my wife (my first wife, whom I’m calling Valerie in this blog) about the encounter, and she was fascinated enough that I agreed to go back and take her to meet him.
We went back the next day, or possibly the day after. We were ushered into a large kitchen in the back, with a table big enough for eight or ten people. There was also an easel with a pad of flip-chart newsprint on it. (Remember this flip chart.) I think we had some tea while the Zombie Lord talked to us for a while. Afterwards, he took us back into his office. Valerie sat to my right.
I don’t really know what happened after that.
I know that we seemed to be having a conversation, but I also noticed that nobody’s mouth was actually moving. In fact, it dawned on me that none of us had said anything for a long time, and that the man behind the desk was simply staring at my wife. I turned my head (which seemed to take a long time) and saw that she was just sitting there looking back at him.
I knew that something was terribly wrong, and I seemed powerless to do anything about it. I tried to speak, but couldn’t. I turned my head back to look at him, and as hard as possible I thought, “You bastard!”
To my surprise, he turned away from my wife with a sudden start, and looked at me with a smile.
I don’t know exactly what happened after that, but swearing at him in my mind seemed to break the “spell,” and a little while later my wife and I were walking out the door. Much to our surprise, we discovered that it was now dark out. While our time sense seemed a bit distorted, neither of us felt we’d been there longer than an hour — two hours at most. It was summer time, and we’d arrived in the early afternoon. Darkness seemed impossible, but despite our objections — there it was.
We went to a nearby restaurant and did our best to recall the recent events while they were still fresh in our minds. Not that there was much to remember.
That was the end of that.
But there is a codicil that is perhaps even more disturbing than the event itself.
Years later, I and my second wife (the lovely lady to whom I’ve been married for over 30 years) rented the movie, The Serpent and the Rainbow. When the Zombie Lord, Peytraud (played by Zakes Mokae), appeared, I almost fell out of my chair. He was the spitting image (at least in memory) of the man who had apparently held me in thrall so many years before.
But that wasn’t the disturbing part.
We’d watched the movie with our good friend Richard, and afterward I told him about my encounter. When I reached the point about going into the kitchen he stopped me.
“This is going to sound weird,” he said, “but — was there a flip chart in the kitchen?”
“Why would you ask that?” I said when I’d managed to get my voice back.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just had this mental image of him standing there with a flip chart behind him.
Now seriously — what the hell are you supposed to do with an experience like that?
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Related articles
- A walking, talking, real-life zombie from Haiti (thepunch.com.au)
- Five Reasons the Zombie Apocalypse Will Never Come to Pass | Primer (bibliophage91.wordpress.com)
Laura
January 11, 2012
Never, ever accept tea from a Zombie Lord.
Frank Lee MeiDere
January 11, 2012
Do you think? Of course, this occurred several years before Wade Davis’s book, so we didn’t know anything about so-called Zombie drugs. I suspect if we had, we would have been more circumspect about accepting refreshment. To be perfectly honest, however, I’m not sure we actually did have tea. We were in the kitchen, and I think we had tea, but wouldn’t swear to it. Seems the most likely possibility, though.
As weird as it was, however, the part that really sent chills down my spine was when Richard asked about the flip chart. A detail that I didn’t include in the post, because it was already quite long, is that when Richard said he’d had a “mental image” of the situation, I asked him to sketch it for me. He then drew a perfectly accurate floor-plan type of sketch showing where we’d sat at the table, where the Zombie Lord had been, where the flip chart was located, and even where the tall Zombie guy stood.
Just. Plain. Weird.
Laura
January 11, 2012
It really sounds like you were drugged — you seemed to be fine before the tea and in an altered state of consciousness after you drank it and spent some time listening to the Zombie Lord talk (which would have given the drug(s) time to take effect).
I’m very skeptical of anything supernatural. I think the most likely explanation for the original incident is that you were drugged. Your friend Richard’s part is harder for me to explain away, but I can think of a couple of possibilities. Did you have a clear picture in your mind of what the kitchen looked like before Richard drew his floor plan, or did Richard’s just look right to you after you saw it? Sometimes memory is tricky that way (and, if you were drugged, that might have affected it). Or it’s possible that there’s some iconic image of a mesmerizing person in a kitchen with flip charts that subconsciously influenced both a) Richard and b) either your memory or the Zombie Lord’s kitchen design.
Frank Lee MeiDere
January 11, 2012
I very much like the way you think. Personally, I have no question that the incident itself was the result of a drug — although I had no idea at the time, since the drug involved wasn’t widely known outside of Haiti. Even the Zombie Lord’s sudden reaction to my thought-projected curse may have been the result of a movement or expression I made that alerted him to the fact that I was starting to come out from under the influence. And the fact that my Zombie Lord happened to look like the guy in the movie (according to my memory almost 15 years later) is completely coincidental.
As for Richard’s role, however, that is far harder to explain. I’m well aware of that trickiness of memory, which is why whenever anything unusual happens, I always get a written account as soon as possible and talk it over with anyone else involved. (And if nobody else was involved, then I refuse to trust my memory or perceptions of the event.) The kitchen layout was quite clear in my mind, especially since I’d seen it during my first visit when he was “interviewing” me. (He took me around the premises.)
I have always been careful of “psychic” events, and my phenomenological training has made me far more diligent than others might be in this matter.
I have three “smoking guns” (as I refer to them) that I don’t believe can be explained in any other way. (This incident is not one of them. The only real peculiarity is Richard’s comment, and that’s too small a detail to hang anything on.) I’ve been thinking of writing these up, and may just do so, now that I’ve introduced the subject.
Linda Medrano
January 11, 2012
There are certain things in life that are better left unexplored. This gave me the most delightful shiver! I’m glad you lived to tell the tale… but is Valerie still kicking? Ga! I hope so. I don’t believe in Voodoo, Zombies, Ghosts, etc. But I wouldn’t mess with them either. Scary business! Love it!
Frank Lee MeiDere
January 11, 2012
Yes, Valerie is still alive and doing fine. And here’s a bit of irony I’d not thought of until now — every year she and her husband spend part of the year at their medical mission in Haiti.
Leeuna Foster
January 12, 2012
This is scary. Seriously. I can’t imagine being roofied by a Zombie Lord. While I don’t believe in the supernatural, voodoo, black magic, psychic ability, etc. I do believe you, and this is just weird. It had to be a drug of some sort that you ingested. As for Richard, could you have mentioned the event to him at some previous time and then forgotten that you had told him about it?
Frank Lee MeiDere
January 13, 2012
No, it wasn’t something I talked about much. I think it might even have been the first time my present wife heard about it. And certainly the flip chart was never an important part of the tale — at least, not until Richard brought it up. I’ve got nothing to offer for this particular element, except to say it was weird.
Jon
January 12, 2012
Well, I’m just fascinated. Hypnotic suggestion, perhaps? That said, there are a multitude of drugs that could be administer in tea to produce an effect; LSD comes to mind. Doesn’t really help with the flip chart though.
Frank Lee MeiDere
January 13, 2012
Not LSD. There were no hallucinatory effects. And there were no after effects. Plus, it only lasted for a few hours, and then went away fairly quickly. Hypnosis? I don’t think so, but obviously can’t rule it out. Most likely just a small dose of the “zombie drug” — although for the life of me I can’t begin to imagine why he would have done it. There was certainly no profit in it for him. As a lark? Maybe.