A Short Message From the Author

This issue ends the second year of the Legends

and Lore of Illinois. We have seen considerable growth

in that time, not just in terms of readership, but also in

content. We only had one unfortunately setback,

when my digital video camera broke and I was no

longer able to record any more of our monthly videos.

It is my goal to keep this publication

continually evolving and to involve the readers as

much as possible. In keeping with that goal, 2009 will

bring a few important changes. For the past few

months I experimented with offering hard copies of

each issue. This will be an option for all of the new

issues, which will also be expanded to 8 pages.

Fan photos will be a regular feature of 2009.

On our website and our Myspace page, I requested

that our fans send in photos of themselves along with

a statement of support. So far the response has been

overwhelming, so I plan to devote an entire page to

these in the upcoming issues.

Also, I’m going to begin including my own

personal reflections. I realized that it might be

interesting for you to read how I felt when I visited

each location, especially since I’ve been to dozens of

these places over the years. With that being said, I

hope you continue to enjoy the Legends and Lore of

Illinois in the coming year. Keep writing in! g

Your Letters

Just read the latest issue of Legends and Lore,

loved it by the way!! I love your writing! One thing I

did notice though, is your investigation file date is

November 28, 2008, which hasn’t passed yet. I didn’t

know if this was on purpose or not. Just wanted to

drop you a line to see if it was! Keep up the

phenomenal work!! I can’t wait for the next issue!!

Tasha Hebert

Bloomington, IL

(Author’s note: because the stories in the Investigation

File are fictional, the date of the investigations may be

listed as any time during the month.)

If you are a fan of the Legends and Lore of Illinois, we want to

hear from you! Please e-mail your letters to:

thefallen2@gmail.com.

http://www.myspace.com/legendsandloreofillinois

Contents From the Author 1 Your Letters 1 A Quick and Dirty Guide 2 The Fallen Investigate 3 Book Review 6 Ghostly Games 7 Trivia 7

Page 1

The formidable “Monk’s Mound.”

A Quick and Dirty Guide to

Cahokia Mounds

Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site is located

near Collinsville, Illinois, around eight miles east of St.

Louis. The site consists of dozens of prehistoric

mounds constructed by American Indians around the

time that Leif Ericson’s longships landed in Vinland.

The most prominent feature of these mounds is

Monk’s Mound. Monk’s Mound was the largest

earthen structure north of central Mexico at the time of

its construction. “Begun around A.D. 900 and

completed 300 years later,” Gene S. Stuart wrote in his

book America’s Ancient Cities (1988), “it has 4 terraces;

rises 100 feet; covers some 16 acres with a base

measuring approximately 700 by 1,080 feet, and

contains about 22 million cubic feet of earth (31).” A

large building sat at the summit of the mound.

The Cahokia Mounds were built by a group of

people identified by anthropologists as belonging to

the Mississippian Culture. Not much is known about

them, other than the artifacts and earthen structures

they left behind.

The mounds were a part of a large city, which

reached the height of its power between 1000 and 1200

AD. A large stockade surrounded the central

structures at the site, which the residents rebuilt

several times. There is no evidence of battles or who

their enemy might have been.

Cahokia stood at the hub of a network of

“mound communities,” which would have reinforced

its role as a trade center along with its place at the

juncture of the Mississippi, Illinois, and Missouri

Rivers. It maintained that position for several

hundred years before the site was mysteriously

abandoned around 1400 AD. In comparison, the city

of St. Louis has been in existence for a little over 200

years.

Cahokia wasn’t the only mound city in North

America. According to Earl H. Swanson, in his book

The Making of the Past: The Ancient Americas (1989),

similar, but less extensive cities have been found near

Spiro, Oklahoma; Etowah, Georgia; Moundville,

Alabama; and Hiwassee Island, Tennessee. Many of

these mounds were used for burial, and contain

human remains, stone tools, weapons, pottery, and

artwork.

At the time the first French explorers began to

penetrate the Illinois territory, the native peoples had

no knowledge of who had once occupied the massive

site. In the 1800s, American archeologists believed

that some earlier race, distinct from the Amerindians,

constructed the mounds. They called them,

appropriately enough, the “Mound People” or the

“Mound Builders.” They assumed that the Native

American tribes had exterminated them some time in

the distant past.

Many of the familiar tales of Illinois are only a

few decades old. We mustn’t forget that people have

lived on this land for over a thousand years. The

Cahokia Mounds are a reminder that every nook and

cranny of this land is haunted by the past. g

Page 2

The sign to the Cahokia Mounds museum.

Smaller mounds dot the landscape.

The Fallen

Investigation File 024

With Primordial’s “Empire Falls” blaring from

the speakers of their rusted, dark blue Toyota Corolla,

The Fallen raced down the deserted road toward

Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site under the cover of

darkness. Snow flurries trickled down from the sky as

the urban landscape suddenly gave way to an open

field and the massive silhouette of Monk’s Mound

appeared on the horizon.

“Where is this place?” Greg asked from the

backseat. He clutched his gnarled, wooden cane

anxiously. Beside him sat Emmer, a tall and lanky

young man with a dour expression. Aurelia sat in the

front passenger side. Mike, as always, sat behind the

wheel.

“It’s right there,” Mike said, pointing his finger

at the mound in the distance.

“What, that?” Greg asked. “That’s it? I’ve seen

sled hills bigger than that.”

“It’s an ancient monument,” Mike explained

with naked agitation. “It’s a sacred place.”

“It looks like the Kenosha toboggan hill,” Greg

laughed.

Emmer grinned. “Well, I’m ready to see some

fireworks,” he said. “What’s it been, over a year now

you’ve been looking for this astral gate? I’d hate the

whole thing to turn out to be a bone headed mistake

on your part.”

“I’ve got your bone right here,” Mike shot

back,

back, but before he could continue, Aurelia pulled a

weathered rib bone out of a backpack that had been

laying on the floor.

“No really, he does!” she exclaimed.

It took a few moments for the quartet to settle

down, but as soon as they saw the cars already in the

parking lot of Monk’s Mound, their demeanor

sobered.

“Looks like we’re a little late,” Emmer

grumbled.

Mike spun the wheel, and the Toyota lurched

into the parking lot, driving over a chain that had

obviously been cut. In a heartbeat, the gear was in

park and the engine off. The Fallen stealthily piled out

of the car.

“Just think,” Greg whispered. “Millions of

people are asleep in their warm beds getting ready for

the Christmas season—or whatever. No one but us is

awake right now. What a way to celebrate the winter

solstice—climbing a wet, snowy hill in the freezing

cold!”

“Bone me,” Mike said, holding out his hand.

Aurelia slapped the long-lost rib bone of Big

Thunder into his palm. Dark, ominous clouds

gathered in the sky above and thunder shook the

asphalt of the parking lot.

Page 3

A reconstructed portion of the stockade.

Step by step, The Fallen made their way to the

stairs that led to the top of Monk’s Mound. From that

vantage point, it looked as though they would have to

climb a thousand steps. By the time they made it to

the top, they feared, their adversaries could have

already opened the astral gate.

“Follow my lead!” Mike shouted under the

roaring thunder. He tightened his black, leather

trench coat around his waist and began the ascent.

The farther they climbed, the more clearly the

four heard voices echoing from the plateau at the top

of the mound. Wind whipped the noise down to their

ears along with the freezing snow, which had quickly

turned to icy rain.

Finally, after ten or fifteen minutes, The Fallen

reached within a yard of the summit. They stopped

there and sunk down to avoid detection. Greg peered

over the edge and observed that the five funda-

mentalists—their rivals for control over the astral

gate—were joined with the Satanists, Davin and Emily

among them. The holy-rollers stood in formation in

the shape of a cross, with Davin and the Satanists

standing in between the four ‘arms.’

“I don’t believe my own eyes,” Greg cursed.

“How can the Christians and the Satanists be working

together? It doesn’t make any sense! And that bastard

Davin… don’t even get me—“

“There is no Satanism without Judeo-

Christianity!” Emmer hissed. His friend looked at him

blankly, so he quickly elaborated. “Satanism is a ruse.

It’s all about controlling dissent so that they determine

what is good and what is evil. They prepackaged

rebellion in a form that confirms the underlying Judeo-

Christian worldview. They are just two sides of the

same coin. Get it? Look, have you read 1984?”

“No,” Greg blinked, cutting him off. “But I

guess it doesn’t matter. We have to stop them

whatever they having going on behind the scenes.”

He turned towards Mike. “What do we do?” he asked

frantically, readying his cane for a fight.

“Nothing—yet,” Mike replied. “We have to

wait for them to open the gate.”

“Wait, isn’t that exactly what we don’t want

them to do?” Aurelia interjected.

“Greg, remember when you were worried

about keeping Emily around, because one of the

Satanists is her brother and he was using her to get to

us through Davin?” Mike asked rhetorically. “And

remember when I said that worked both ways?”

“Yeah, but—“ Greg protested.

“Just watch.”

From the top of the mound the voice of the

leader of the fundamentalists, a middle aged matriarch

with long, curly hair, rang out in low, clear decibels.

Her hands were outstretched. “Mater misericordiae!

Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve! Ad te clamamus exsules

filii Hevae! Ad te Suspiramus, gementes et flentes in hac

lacrimarum valle! Eia ergo, Advocata nostra, illos tuos

misericordes oculos ad nos converte!”

The man at the head of the human ‘cross’

added, “Eia ergo, Advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes

oculos ad nos converte. Et Iesum, benedictum fructum

ventris tui, nobis post hoc exsilium ostende!”

Page 4

St. Louis can be seen from Monk’s Mound

A model of all the mounds, alongside Woodhenge.

At that, the entire group began to speak in

tongues—releasing a chorus of nonsensical phrases

that spewed forth from their deep, trance-like state. In

the sky above, the clouds slowly began to spin.

“All of you have officially gone off the deep

end,” Emmer trembled. “We should get off this hill

before we get struck by lightning or something. This

has gone far enough.”

“Wait!” Mike yelled and reached out to restrain

his friend, but as Emmer turned around to retreat

down the stairs, a fissure appeared in the clouds and a

bolt of lightning struck the ground inches away.

Emmer was thrown onto the side of the mound and

rolled to a stop on a plateau midway to the bottom.

The crack in the clouds widened and electro-

magnetic energy lit up the top of Monk’s Mound. “I

think I’m getting some déjà vu!” Greg exclaimed as

fingers of lightning crackled across the midnight sky.

“We have to close this gate forever!” Mike

shouted over the whipping wind and stinging, icy

hail. He turned the rib bone around in his hand to get

a more balanced grip.

“What?” Greg asked with astonishment. “We

came all this way and now that we found the gate you

want to destroy it?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Mike argued. “Once

the gate is in the wrong hands, there will be no going

back. The world will plunge into slavery. There will

be no freedom—only one thought, one herd, one faith,

one world order.” He stood up and shouted, “Davin,

do it now!”

Near the middle of the enemy formation at the

top of the mound, Davin sprang into action. Their

leader had been momentarily distracted by the sudden

appearance of Mike, so she was unprepared for the

blow that came at her from behind. Davin launched

himself at the woman and knocked her down with the

brunt of his shoulder.

At the same moment, Mike hurled the bone of

Big Thunder into the fissure in the clouds. Davin

barely got to his feet—slipping and sliding on the icy

grass—before a great roar pierced the air and lighting

touched down in every direction.

Mike grabbed Aurelia and Greg and jumped

off the side of the hill. They landed with a sickening

thud, but their momentum carried them down the

slope before they could be fried by the lightning.

The others weren’t so lucky. Both the Satanists

and the holy rollers—along with Emily—were

scorched by the searing heat. Davin, who fell on top

of one of the larger men, narrowly escaped. As the

swirling clouds above lurched to a halt and began to

dissipate, he crawled over to Emily, but her lifeless

eyes told him that he was too late.

By the time Davin reached the bottom of the

hill, the other members of The Fallen had gathered a

few yards from the parking lot. Aurelia and Greg

carried Emmer, who was still unconscious.

“The snoozepapers will probably report this as

some kind of tragedy,” Aurelia growled. “Probably

use it as an excuse for a lecture on weather safety.”

“It was a tragedy,” Mike said as he reached the

door of the dark blue Toyota. “The ancients hid this

here eons ago to allow us to one day unlock the secrets

of the cosmos. Instead of using it for knowledge, it

was destroyed because of ignorance.”

“Maybe there are more of them out there,”

Davin suggested. “All I know is that it’s great to be

back. I almost started to miss you guys.” He grinned

and joined the others in the vehicle. g

Page 5

Cahokia’s “Woodhenge.”

Book Review Have you ever seen or read anything you

couldn’t explain and let your imagination fill in the

blanks? That appears to have been the genesis of Alan

and Sally Landsburg’s book In Search of Ancient

Mysteries. Published in 1974, this book was a

companion piece to a television special of the same

name that claimed ancient civilization was nurtured

by visitors from outer space.

The idea that our distant ancestors were visited

by extraterrestrials had already been espoused by such

authors as Erich von Däniken, who interpreted ancient

artwork and legends to mean that the gods of

primitive man were really spacemen whose “chariots

of fire” were, in reality, spaceships.

Alan and Sally Landsburg took this one step

farther, speculating that extraterrestrials had not only

come to earth, but had also established bases here at

intervals of thousands of years, giving mankind gifts

of knowledge and civilization in the process. They

theorized that members of an advanced culture had

left their dying planet in search of a new home. These

alien refugees would have eventually found our planet

and set up a base camp here.

The authors placed this base camp at Lake

Titicaca in the Andes Mountains of Peru and Bolivia.

Near this lake, which is high above sea level, lay the

ruins of a massive ancient city dated at 2000 BC. Not

even the natives know what race of people inhabited

this city or how it was built. Other than the seeming

impossibility of building a city at that height without

the use of modern construction equipment, the

evidence of its extraterrestrial origins is speculative at

best.

These long-lost inhabitants maintained a

tradition of revering jaguars, which our authors

considered strange due to the lack of that animal at

those heights in the Andes Mountains. The reason

they put forward to explain this oddity is that, when

seen from space, Lake Titicaca is shaped like a jaguar.

“Conceivably it took a jaguar as its symbol in fond

remembrance of the shape of the lake its founders saw

when they came down from the heavens,” the authors

wrote (35).

Thanks to satellite imagery, I have seen Lake

Titicaca from space, and all it looks like to me is a

misshapen blob. Furthermore, even if our visitors did

see something in the outline of the lake, how would

aliens from outer space know what a jaguar was?

Therein lies the problem that afflicts this book

from cover to cover. I will more than readily grant the

author’s premise that all of our narratives dealing with

ancient history are terribly flawed and based on

speculation, scant evidence, and a dash of wishful

thinking. There is, however, a scale of probability.

When confronted with unexplainable facts of pre-

history, like the massive ruins near Lake Titicaca, why

come to the least likely and most complicated

explanation? Sure, aliens could have built the ancient

city, but isn’t it more likely that a resourceful and

determined pre-modern people built the city?

Each generation interprets the past as they see

it. In the 1970s, a burgeoning New Age movement

sought to reinterpret history into a story of

humankind’s spiritual growth. Highly enlightened

people from space took a strong role in that narrative.

Some day, the story went, these aliens would return to

save us from nuclear and environmental annihilation.

Thirty years later, we are still waiting. g

Alan and

Sally

Landsburg,

In Search of

Ancient

Mysteries.

Non-Fiction.

(New York:

Bantam

Books,

1974.)

Page 6

Ghostly Games

This section is designed to put fun back into the

paranormal. Most of these ideas will have nothing to do

with poking around with an EMF detector and thinking

you’ve detected a ghost when you’re really just standing

under a power line.

Game #12: What Metal Band am I?

This is a good game for a party with six or

more guests. It is easily expanded to accommodate as

many players as you wish.

Ingredients

6-8 large, white index cards

Tape & black marker

Instructions

Write the name of one goth, doom, black,

death, or ambient metal band on each card. Mix them

up and then affix a random card to the back of one of

the player’s shirt. That player should not know what

the card says. Then Player 1 should affix the

remaining cards to the backs of the remaining player’s

shirts, without them seeing which card they received.

It is o.k. for the other players to see your card.

The game begins as all the players ask each

other questions to determine which band is written on

their index card. The questions should be answered

with either ‘yes’ or ‘no’. The game continues until all

the players have guessed correctly! g

Trivia

Tough questions will be asked in this section. It is up to

you to uncover the clues and determine the solutions.

Sometimes you will find the answers buried in the current

issue; other times you will need to go to the location itself.

The answers to this month’s questions will be posted in next

month’s issue.

1. Of what culture were the people who

constructed the Cahokia Mounds?

2. How tall is Monk’s Mound?

3. Between what years, roughly, were the

mounds constructed?

4. In what year was St. Louis officially established

as a town (before it was a city)?

5. Many of the mounds were surrounded by a

large wooden wall, otherwise known as a ____.

6. In what year was Cahokia Mounds designated

as a World Heritage Site?

7. What was the suggested purpose of

Woodhenge, a circle of erect timber not far

from the Cahokia mounds?

Go out and explore, and good luck!

Answers to last month’s questions:

1. 1973. 2. France. 3. Lakeview. 4. New Poag Road. 5. A

triangle. 6. 1897. 7. The Broken Heart or the Unfinished Life.

Page 7

Part of the stockade, and Monk’s Mound in the distance.

A commanding view of the landscape.