Heidi Hollis - The Hat Man: The True Story Of Evil Encounters

The Hat Man: The True Story of Evil Encounters

Copyright 2014 by Heidi Hollis

July 2014

All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, scanning, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Photos are published by arrangement with the author and photographer

Cover design by Heidi Hollis

Author Note: I have tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity in some instances I have changed the names of individuals and places, I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, gender, occupations and places of residence

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(EBook) ISBN 978-0-9830401-5-6

(Soft Cover) ISBN 978-0-9830401-9-4

Dedicated to winning the battle of ALL battles.

&

Inspired by ALL who do right by God,

And for those who aspire to one day.

Tastes Like Chicken:

My Beef And Background

I adore my sanity as much as the next person. Its not an easy task to hold on to at times when being met by some of the things that I have and that most people deem to be only science fiction. As with anyone, I have my likes and dislikes, favorites and unfamiliar prospects that dont interest me. I like indulging in special effect-driven movies, rollerblading, traveling abroad to different countries when possible, dishing out special patience to my dear patients as a practicing occupational therapist and laughing to no end at most things in life.

Im a colorful, boring, lighthearted, fearful, and caring individual. I have failures and dreams, procrastination and domination, laughter and breakdownsall rolled up into my wicked little rock I call my life. No one has this thing to live but me and if anyone knows any better, they wouldnt want to borrow my shoes for a night on the town!

The world of the paranormal lives in my shoes. It has at times danced around the laces, untied them to trip me up, and other times dug deep between my toes to make them dance to a different tune than others. Its been an interesting life to say the least, thus far. Then, just when I thought God could show me no more, another page of strange smells floats my way.

Neat imagery, huh? Im good for it, just wait it gets better.

I always like to give a little background on who I am and where the heck Im coming from so people get a good look at those people who deal with the paranormal.

I have been living in the nest of the paranormal world for nearly as long as I can recall. Starting at the age of seven, I lived in a haunted house and I wish thats all I had to say about that, but it isnt.

When I say haunted, Im saying that all of the scary movies ever put out about ghosts and hauntings were therapeutic for myself and my siblings while growing up. It was like comfort food for us to know that even if the stories we were seeing werent true, at least we knew others had an idea of the possibilities out there. With flying silverware, organs playing by themselves, loud poundings being heard, attic doors falling open, spirits being photographed, red-eyed-black birds attacking indoorsone could surmise that the possibilities were absolutely terrifying for us.

We didnt enjoy what was happening to us in the least, but it got me and my siblings interest to watch even more horrifying depictions of scary things on television and in movies. If you have ever been home alone, but thought you werent and heard a suspicious noise and went to investigate it while calling out your sisters name only to find it wasnt your sisterthen you can join my private corner in memories of hell breaking loose! Allow me to share:

I had to be around the ripe age of nine when I came home from school to meet my sister at the front door. It was a known rule with my siblings and I, that even if our dad didnt admit (at the timealthough he confessed later) that the house was haunted, we would watch each others back so none of us would be home alone. So, my older sister always sat on the front porch of our house to wait for me to come home from school.

On this developing crappy day, my sister wasnt standing on the front porch, so I assumed she had to go inside for a good reason. So in the house I go, calling out my sisters name when I hear a sound coming from the kitchen. It sounded like silverware clanging together, so I figured she must have gotten hungry while waiting for me and went in to make herself something to eat.