Eliza Turner

One day, standing on the shore of a fitful sea, I felt the presence of an old forgotten god. The rough waters invoked the latent memory of those primal, violent gods; the gods who made their anger known. The rise and fall of each wave and the ebb and flow of the salty water proved a testament of their everlasting power. If you listened closely to the breeze and the subtle voice hidden within the sound of the splashing waves, the call of old Njord could be heard— the call to set aside all trepidation and set sail out into the cold unknown.

(The Post Office building where the evening began and later concluded with a bang; Photo by Osie Turner) I first learned of Dinner With A Ghost two years ago when I was invited to attend their annual event in Gold Point, Nevada. An opportunity to work with them again didn’t present itself until last May, when I was invited to take part in the dinner and investigation around Gold Point once more. Dinner With A Ghost is exactly what it sounds like—a gourmet dinner hosted by professional paranormal investigators followed by a formal investigation with the team. For a little more background, my first experience with the team can be found on Living-Las-Vegas.com . Upon arrival, I met up with John Cushman, the founder of Dinner With A Ghost, and Justin Cimock, the Vice President of Operations. They filled me in on the plans for the evening; namely that dinner would be held in the old Post Office turned museum and the investigation would take place in a few of the original buildings

Cemeteries are interesting places; I love to explore them whenever possible and see what turns up. One day during one such walk in the Woodlawn Cemetery of Santa Monica, California one lone tomb stood out among the headstones and caught my attention. So, naturally, I took a closer look and found much more than just an old tomb. The exterior was painted and maintained but when I peered through the rusted gate it quickly become apparent that the inside of the tomb was in a bad state of neglect. The padlock was rusted and a faint cobweb linked it to the gate; it was obvious no one entered the tomb in many decades. The plaque identified the inhabitants as Markus D. Feather (12/18/1837-10/30/1910) and his wife, Susan J. Johnson (11/29/1854-5/26/1904). The masonic symbol indicated that Markus was a freemason and the star meant that Susan was a member of the Order of the Eastern Star (a co-ed masonic organization for Master Masons and their close female family members.) The ceme

The photo in question. Original photographer unknown . A strange photo making its rounds about the internet shows a battleship protruding from the stony face of a cliff, flag raised and usually with the cryptic caption "Murmansk, Russia." It looks photoshopped, and many of the more critical views likely have chalked it up to such. I became intrigued by it and decided to do some research. The marking on the bow indicate it was a Soviet ship, and the flag is definitely red but too pixelated to see clearly. Logically, there is no way this ship could have crashed through a solid rock without suffering severe damage. There had to be more to the story… It turns out that this is not a real ship’s bow sticking out of the rock face, but rather a memorial. It commemorates a World War II battle known as the Liinakhamari Landing, and is dedicated to the Soviet sailors that lost their lives during the siege. The memorial was opened on the 30th anniversary of the battle, on Octobe

If you’ve ever traveled the long stretch of desert highway between Los Angeles and Las Vegas you may have noticed this abandoned waterpark in the middle of nowhere. One cannot help but wonder why it is there—who would open a waterpark here? As it turns out, the backstory of this family fun park turned post-apocalyptic ruin is rather surprising. It originally opened in 1962 as Lake Dolores Water Park and continued to expand over the years. More and more rides were added as more and more visitors began to either make the trek there or stop en route in between LA and Vegas. Eventually a campground was added for overnight stays. In 1990 the park was sold and the new owners changed the name to Rock-A-Hoola. Later in 1998 they invested countless dollars into a full renovation in which many of the buildings we see today were added and the whole waterpark had a retro 1950s style makeover. Unfortunately that was not enough to draw in more families; it went bankrupt and closed in 2

Who knows? I certainly don’t. Of course, I know the “About” section of these types of websites usually say something to the effect of “Osie Turner is a writer and photographer living in Las Vegas,” but that is rather bland. Besides, you don’t really want to know who I am—you’re likely more interested in figuring out what it is that I do, exactly. I consider myself an artist; it is tempting to say that writing, both fiction and non-fiction, is my primary passion but photography is essentially a part of my daily life and so closely related to my writing that the two are essentially inseparable. Every professional article I’ve had published has included photos I’ve taken of or at whatever it is the article is about. Likewise, many of the photo shoots I’ve gone on have ended up inspiring fiction. Although born in Las Vegas, Nevada, I grew up in a small mining town known as Sandy Valley—about 60 miles southwest of Las Vegas in the heart of the vast Southern Nevada desert. I believe grow