Did John Dillinger die in 1934? Popular consensus says yes. However, more recent events (such as the lawsuit involving a proposed exhumation of Dillinger's body in Indianapolis) have stoked interest in an investigative report published in 1970 suggesting that Dillinger survived into the 1960s. It's speculative, of course, but makes for an interesting read.
Click the video below to play our book trailer.
Dillinger: Dead or Alive? by Jay Robert Nash & Ron Offen
Eight years ago today (January 9, 2010), Mooresville Public Library launched its YouTube channel. Since then, the library has uploaded 799 videos and has 800 subscribers (at last!--more subscribers than videos!) More tellingly, the library's videos have been viewed 1,206,333 times. That's an amazing statistic for a small township public library that serves a community under 15,000.
Videos were part of the library's social media initiative, which began in January, 2010. Suzanne Walker, MLS, who was then MPL youth services director, spearheaded the project. A couple of days before MPL YouTube was launched, Suzanne asked me to create a book trailer that she could show to a library school class at which she was guest-lecturing. I'd never heard of a book trailer, but some quick research and experimentation with now-defunct Windows Movie Maker software produced the following video.
MPL Book Trailer #1
True Ghost Stories, by the
Marchioness Townshend of Raynham
and Maude ffoulkes
I hope there's been some improvement in our book trailers since then. Here's one we particularly like, using (also now defunct) Windows Movie Maker Live. (We're now using Wondershare Filmora video editing software.)
MPL Book Trailer #322
A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman
What really makes these videos stand out is the soundtrack music. The library has its own composer, who writes original compositions for its videos. (He's willing to grant other libraries a free license to use his music in their videos, too, as explained here.) The library's YouTube channel became the platform to which staff could upload videos for public viewing. Over the years, MPL created book trailers, program trailers, promo trailers, local history videos, music parodies, readalouds, singalongs, readers' advisory blogs, puppet shows, how-to instructional videos, and probably some other types I've forgotten. Check out these playlists to see examples.
Making library videos is relatively easy and inexpensive--otherwise, we certainly wouldn't be doing them. Who has a budget for such things? Last year we started a media blog to share some of our ideas to help colleagues make their own library videos, as well as sharing some of our experiences using social media or technology. One approach we particularly liked is the use of "spokescritters" to promote libraries through video, blogs, and other social media. Our "spokescritter" is Cauli Le Chat, MPL feline roving reporter (now retired). Cauli's blog has been viewed 437,356 times.
MPL YouTube reached a million viewings last March and is now nearly a quarter million views closer to two million. The wide variety and quantity of viewing material explains some of the appeal, but ultimately it's simply a matter of resonance. Some videos connect with large numbers of viewers, who share their finds, thereby delivering more viewership statistics. The result is a global footprint. Through its videos, MPL has truly reached a worldwide audience.
A decade ago, one of our library's volunteers investigated an apparent poltergeist case at a friend's house situated near Robb Hill Road, in Morgan County, Indiana. We will call the friend Imogene, because that's nothing like her actual name.
Click Map to Enlarge
Imogene's family had moved into the house in 2003. Apparently, a teenage girl committed suicide in the home five years beforehand, but no one in Imogene's family knew this before investigating. Imogene began experiencing paranormal phenomena a few months after moving into the house. These events occurred at first exclusively in Imogene's bedroom, which was, she subsequently discovered, the same bedroom in which the suicide occurred. Objects sitting on tables, a desk, the bed, and shelves were rearranged randomly around other places in the room and elsewhere in the home. Imogene alleged that neither she nor her family members had moved these items. She also began hearing thumping apparently coming from inside the walls of her room. Her parents found no structural causes of this noise, and nobody at the house claimed responsibility for the sounds.
One of Imogene's acquaintances suggested she use a ouija board to attempt communication with a disembodied spirit, assuming one existed and was causing the phenomena. Ouija board use can be dangerous to novices or frivolous parties, and so she sought someone experienced in psychical research who could protect participants from harm. A paranormal investigator was retained, and ouija board sessions began.
For those unfamiliar with this device, a ouija board has an indicator (sometimes called a planchette) that moves to letters of the alphabet to spell-out messages. Often numbers, plus the words yes, no, and goodbye, are included. Participants lightly place their fingers atop the planchette, which they allow to move by itself, although skeptics claim that the indicator is moved deliberately (or unconsciously) by someone touching it. Often, the planchette moves rapidly across the board. To safeguard from cheating, participants are frequently blindfolded, and an observer records messages on paper. This is hardly a fraud-proof means of communication, so it is commonly dismissed among paranormal researchers as unreliable. The primary investigator, however, had had some interesting results using the safeguards mentioned.
At first, the planchette spelled out nonsensical words, but fairly soon, intelligible messages began to appear. Purportedly, the teenage girl who committed suicide was communicating. (Her suicide was later independently established by talking with neighbors.) She called herself Emily and claimed to be an earth-bound spirit living inside one of Imogene's dolls sitting on a shelf in her bedroom. Numerous personal details were mentioned in the messages, some of which were independently confirmed by neighbors who had known Emily, but which were unknown to anyone investigating.
Occasionally, Emily (or whatever, if anything, was communicating) became irritated or abusive in her messages, and so sessions would usually end. Once, Imogene turned the doll in which the spirit supposedly resided to face the wall as a punishment for nasty comments. The planchette then became "highly animated," according to the primary investigator, stating that the doll should be turned back to face forward. Objects then began to propel themselves from the shelves, desk, and tables. Some struck participants without injury.
Certainly, something strange was occurring in Imogene's house. The alleged communications continued for several months and then abruptly ceased. Whatever the true explanation, it was quite an unusual experience for those involved. It certainly added to the local ghostly folklore of Morgan County.
