It began like any other day, indistinguishable from the day before, it moved along like any other day; no portent of doom appeared on the horizon as the day bled out into night. Penny and I had made plans to visit our friend Lisa, for an evening of fun. Penny had a young daughter, who was close in age to Lisa's daughter; the two girls frequently played together and were fast friends, as we all were. We had arrived at Lisa's home, had dinner, and Lisa and I had a few drinks.
The children played while the adults socialized; the hours passing quickly. We had made plans to spend the night, and as the evening deepened, the children were put to bed. Penny wasn't feeling very well and was tired. She decided that she was going to lay down with the girls, leaving Lisa and I to fend for ourselves. We retreated into the den, closing the door behind us, so as not to wake the children. We listened to records, watched movies; we told jokes and we laughed; talking about anything and everything. We'd also had a few more drinks. We were laughing about something, when suddenly, our revelry was interrupted by a soft knocking at the door, a soft knock that somehow reverberated like the sharp report of a gunshot in the close quarters of the room. Thinking that one of the girls had woken up, I walked across the room to the door, telling Lisa that I would tuck the child back in and return. As my hand touched the doorknob, I felt the shock of deep cold. Opening the door the same way I would any other, I looked down to see which one of the girls was awake.
That was when it hit me, or, more accurately, went through me. This cold, malevolent presence, this thing, had violated me with malicious intent; the cold somehow imparting a taste of death. It was if my very soul had been raped. In a fraction of a second, I had felt what I can only describe as pure, oppressive evil; ice cold and yet, I had sensed a raging fire, the smells of soot, ash and brimstone. I literally knew the tread of something walking across my grave, been given a vision of that desolate and lonely place. Words alone cannot begin to describe the fear, dread and hate that passed through my body. I started shivering, shaking uncontrollably, my arms wrapped tightly around myself; freezing on a hot summer's night. "What the hell was that?" I heard Lisa say. "What the hell was that?" she repeated. "What?" I asked, uncertain that I wanted to admit to anything. "Whatever the hell that black thing was that that just walked through you," she replied nervously. "You saw it?" I asked. "Hell yes, I saw it!" she said. You could hear the tremors of fear in her voice. I told her what I had experienced and felt, asking her if anyone had ever died in the house; died in a fire, to be specific, for I had glimpsed... something. She assured me that nothing of the sort had ever happened, yet I knew that it had, beyond a shadow of a doubt. We attributed what had happened to our having had a few drinks, but I think we had both just been scared sober. We decided to leave the house for a bit and go to the beach until our nerves settled, thinking that Penny and the girls would be safe until our return. There was nothing to fear, really, this was, after all, an alcohol influenced episode.
Once we reached the beach, we took a walk along the shore and discussed what had happened, convincing ourselves that what had occurred was nothing more than imagination. Hours later, as a false dawn crept across the horizon, the decision to return to Lisa's house was made with great trepidation. We drove back slowly, both of us apparently still quite rattled and on edge. Arriving back at Lisa's house, we were startled to see that every light was on, both inside and outside of the house. I'm sure we both had puzzled expressions as we looked at each other and simultaneously asked, "What now?" As we approached the front door, it suddenly flew open, startling us.
There in the doorway stood Penny, disheveled and frightened; the gleam of terror and madness burning in her eyes. "Where the hell have you been?"she thundered. Lisa and I explained to Penny what had happened and why we chose to leave. "Yeah? Well, it got really pissed off after you left," she responded. She went on to explain that it, whatever it was, had awakened her and the girls, walking around the house, opening and slamming cabinets and drawers; knocking on the walls and the bedroom doors. Terrified, Penny and the girls had been huddled together, cowering in the living room, anxiously awaiting our return. The entire episode would still have been easy enough to pass off as alcohol induced, except, Penny hadn't had a single drink all evening. She had been completely sober and hadn't even been aware of the events that Lisa and I had experienced. Still groping for answers, I wondered if someone might have tried to break in. Prudence dictated that I go back outside, to look for any sign of an intruder, which I did. Finding nothing, I went back inside the house. The remaining hours of the morning passed without further incident, until Lisa decided to call her mother and explain what had happened the night before. All hell seemed to break loose after that.
Lisa's parents, a very conservative Jewish couple, contacted a couple of crazy Kabbalah mystics, who came to Lisa's home. After questioning the three of us about the events of the previous night, these self proclaimed mystics, claiming themselves to be psychic, roamed throughout the house, making comments and suggestions. They mentioned that some mezuzahs were missing from the doorframes, others had been turned upside down, and still more were missing their requisite verse from the Torah. The Kabbalists then proceeded to prove themselves correct, pointing out spots on the doorframes, where you could clearly see the outlines of the missing icons. All of the remaining mezuzahs were removed from the walls, opened and found to be empty inside; a barren womb. The Kabbalah mystic gave instructions to Lisa's father on the appropriate remedy to the situation, in order for the icons to once more perform their duty to guard the home. Soon after this, the Kabbalists performed an exorcism on the house, followed by a ritual cleansing and a blessing. Claiming the battle to be won, the two erstwhile psychics departed the house, but not before questioning me further, explaining to me that mine was a new soul, and therefore much more receptive to the supernatural. Yeah, right. Stranger still, the next day, Lisa researched the history of her home, discovering, of all things, that there had indeed been a deadly fire in her home, an electrical one, that had taken the life of a previous owner. The discovery of this information shook the three of us once again. While it had been a strange and dreadful night, as far as I know, there was never another incident in that house.
Over the years, I've tried to rationalize the events of that night, trying to explain them in every possible way and have never been able to, not with any degree of satisfaction. There are so many questions, still, and they are begging for answers. I still don't believe in things that go bump in the night, but it still scares the hell out of me, whenever I think of that night.
The Formica Brothers Bakery, located in 
When we opened the door to the bakery, we were immediately overwhelmed by the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread. The boys raced toward the display cases that were overflowing with fresh, handmade Italian cookies, crisp 
Anthony Basile opened the White House Sub Shop ( 2301 Arctic Avenue, Atlantic City, NJ) in 1946. His hard work and dedication to perfection is what has given the White House its legendary 
Arriving at the White House, I was astonished to see that not only was there no line, there were empty booths as well. Normally, the line extends out the door and well down the side of the building. The take out area was packed, as it usually is, no matter what time of day, or year. We quickly slid into our booth and we were ready to order, no menus were necessary; 
One bite and he says, "This is the greatest day of my life!" You just can't get a better endorsement than that.