On the trail of spirits in Bayside

John Campbell had shed his shirt in the sweltering heat inside the old ’40s-era hotel, now a ’70s-era hippie commune. He peered out his second-floor window late in the afternoon when long shadows reached for Copano Bay [Texas] across the street from the mansion. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him but, no, they weren’t. Below, on the street, what appeared to be an old hag with a scarf slowly crept through the shadows. Then she looked up, and stared straight into John’s eyes before vanishing. Campbell had delved in voodoo. After all, he was from Louisiana, where the old religion was commonplace. He had always been fascinated with it – and the blues genre of music. He figured you really did have to sell your soul to be able to play the blues. And Campbell was willing – like legend says blues great Robert Johnson did at the crossroads. However, Campbell thought he could best the demons that levied a price for success. Read Article

By Tim Delaney