With my wife out of town, nothing on the tube, and a case of insomnia, I decided to go for a drive. Soon, I pulled into the store where group of radio stations had once stood.
While standing at the register, the woman behind the counter asked, “So, what brings you out at this time of the morning?”
The conversation started from there and she offered up the fact that the store sat on the old foundation of her favorite radio station, which continues to operate from elsewhere now. I couldn’t help myself, letting her know I used to work at that very station.
Then the conversation took a more serious bent as she leaned in and half-whispered, “Anything weird happen when you worked there?”
“Well, what do you mean strange?” I asked back, wanting more information.
“You know, strange things, like ghosts and stuff,” she answered.
By this time her co-worker had joined us, as I replied, “Yes.”
He asked, “Know anything about a black cat?”
“That’s Moon Kitty,” I answered, “She was the station cat.”
“We’ve seen her,” they said in near unison.
The woman added, “She darts around here all the time.”
“We had a guy who worked here for two nights,” the man said, “Swears he saw a woman over near that corner. He left and never returned.”
I looked at the corner and knew that it was the area of one of the older on-air studios.
“That would be Christine,” I said, “She committed suicide while on the air one late night. She’s lonely, harmless, but has a real sense of humor.”
For another 15 minutes I regaled them about all my strange experiences. And as I headed out of the parking lot, I felt satisfied to have others confirm what I had experienced for myself.
The Old Blog in the Desert 
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