Loading ...In order to have such verdure !
It reminds me of a time in my youth when my father was chief engineer at a large hospital run by Catholic Sisters . The hospital had a large attached power plant to provide steam for the laundry and kitchen , as well as to provide emergency electrical power in case of an outage , and my father was in charge of that facility as well as many other parts of the campus .
One day , an amputated leg was brought to my father’s office with the request that it be disposed of in one of the boilers’ fireboxes . The men on shift said they would walk off the job if they had to burn a human leg . That left my father with a leg to dispose of , somehow .
The Nuns had a rose garden behind the hospital , so in the dead of night , my father returned and buried the leg in one of the rows of rose bushes .
The next summer my father took me to the annual fund raising ‘garden party’ which was held on the lawn by the rose garden . He had told me about the leg , and as we passed one spot in the rose garden , he nudged me , and under his breath said “right over there” and directed my gaze to that spot . WELL ! I have never seen such flourishing roses as at that spot !
Obviously , they were well fed by what lay beneath .
That official portrait of BHO you posted may hint at a number of similar occult tales .
