Remembering Sandown Sam.

[BIAD]

I was browsing through past accounts laid down in the old Rogue Nation website when I came across the strange tale of
Sandown Sam back in 1973 and on the Isle of Wight, England. I guess most of our members had read the post, but just
in case the unusual tale is unknown to any of our current chums, I'll repeat it here and add in some recent research about
Sam The Sandown Clown and the two children who discovered him.

It was a Tuesday afternoon around four o’clock in May of 1973, a time of day when most children holidaying with their
parents would've been readying themselves for a sit-down dinner in their guesthouse or dare I suggest, hotel. But for
seven year-old Fey and an unnamed boy of a similar age, it seemed this was the juncture in Spring when they could
enhance their vacation by farting around in the overgrown wasteland between the seaside town of Sandown and the
nearby golf course.


The blue squares are where I believe the small stream is. This leads to the blue circle where a boggy area resides.

The picturesque sandy beaches that gave the coastal community its name and a favourite respite of Lewis Carroll and
Charles Darwin weren't exciting enough for the exploring pair and so with just under five hours before the sun set on the
little island in the English Channel, Fay and the lad wandered the thick shrubbery and their respective junior cognitions.
Then they heard what they thought was an ambulance siren.

In England at that time of this incident, these medically equipped vehicles would produce an electronic loud blaring and
repeating 'Dee-Dar-Dee-Dar-Dee-Dar' -sound to warn the public of their urgency and somewhere towards the little-used
aerodrome of Sandown Airport, the two children heard this similar resonance. Curious as most kids once were, Fey and
her friend went in search of the warbling tone and traversed one of the neatly-clipped grass links of the Shanklin and
Sandown Golf Club.

Approaching a hawthorn hedge that separated the private property from a swampy meadow, it seemed to the wandering
duo that the sound didn't come from any particular point and without speaking, the small girl and the boy agreed to step
through the barrier into the unkempt world between sportsmen of the four-iron and those who steer their Cessna across
the strait known as The Solent between the Isle of Wight and mainland England. (Sounds like 727Sky to a tee!)

Arriving at this boggy pasturage that occasionally flooded due to the stream that ran through it, the noise ceased and the
two youngsters peered around at this divide between the golf course and the airport with confusion. Standing there at the
beginning of a wooden footbridge over the narrow brook, to say they were surprised to see a blue-gloved hand appear from
beneath the platform would be an understatement!

A moment later, an tall oddly-dressed figure emerged from the shadows of the bridge and fumbling with a book as it stood
erect, the weird-looking being dropped the tome into the dark stale water of the dyke and spent some time splashing around
in search of it. Presumably, not wishing to to assist this clown-like resident of the neglected meadow in his literary pursuit,
Fay and the lad wandered away to a less crazy area of the lush wasteland.

Not long after, the stranger suddenly appeared near them carrying a black-knobbed microphone with a white flex dangling
from it. Almost at once, the wailing sound returned and children did what any sane person would do, they legged it. However,
the eccentric sodden librarian of Sandown's wilderness must've realised the blaring cacophony wasn't conducive in creating
friendship and so the screeching sound stopped again.

With hearts pounding from their sudden scamper, the two minors slowed their pace as they heard a pleasant voice close to
where they were catching their breath. Later, Fay assured her father that they were a fair distance from the bridge and its
bizarre occupant, yet she claimed they could hear the figure talking as if he was standing directly beside them. They heard
his voice ask -as if directly in their ears, "Hello, are you still there?"

Somehow, Fay and her chum believed the question was friendly enough to restrain their need to flee and so they cautiously
stepped closer in order to converse with the owner of the query. It was then that the pair of children took stock of the being's
outlandish appearance.

He was nearly seven feet tall and had no neck -for his head appeared to be wedged straight onto his shoulders. He wore a
yellow, pointed hat, which interlocked with the red collar of a green tunic. A round, black knob was affixed to the top of his
hat and ‘wooden’ antennae were attached either side. The face had triangular markings for eyes, a brown square of a nose
and motionless yellow lips. Other round rouge-like markings were on his paper-white cheeks and a fringe of red hair fell onto
his forehead. ‘Wooden slats’ protruded from his sleeves and from below his scruffy and torn white trousers.

Another aspect of this stranger's anatomy was that he had only three fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot, but
this didn't seem to enhance the children's inner-urge to turn tail and skedaddle back to the golf-links.


Sandown Sam, one crazy Mutha.

As Fay and her colleague hesitantly approached, the figure pulled out a notebook and wrote in large letters “Hello, and I am
all colours Sam” and held the message out so they could read it. Fay -all of seven summers, read it aloud to her companion
and this may have helped the stranger to improve his verbalisation skills as not long after, multi-pigmented-Sam's voice came
from the slit the children accepted was his mouth.

In a reality completely foreign to todays perception of social-safety, the trio had a conversation and Sam asked the children
questions and they asked questions in return. They asked about his ripped clothes, to which Sam replied that they were the
only clothes he owned. On the abnormal pallidity of his skin, the children asked if Sam was really a man, which he answered
that he wasn't.

They enquired further if he was a ghost and Sam replied "… Well not really, but I am in an odd sort of way." The children
then countered with "What are you then?" and the odd being replied with a vague "You Know" without elaborating further. Supposedly the children's new friend also stated that he had no name -despite introducing himself as Sam, and sketched in
his notebook what another ‘like him’ looked like. Sam also confided to the curious kids that humans frightened him and that
he was afraid of being attacked due to his inability to fight back.
It seems pacifism is alive and well in the world of the paranormal.

Defying the need to race ahead to the end of the story in order to find out if the two kids end-up naked and dead in the
dirty ditch between the airfield and the golf course, we can worryingly read that Fay and her fellow-explorer accepted Sam’s
invitation to enter a windowless metal hut that he called home. Crawling through a small flap of unknown fabric, the children
were welcomed properly to Sam's lair when he doffed his conical hat and revealed his white ears and sparse brown hair.


Sam's home.

The interior of the shack was of two levels with the ground floor being wall-papered in a teal colour and covered with a
pattern of dials. An electric heater and some wooden furniture was all it held and Sams' guests noticed the upper metal-
panelled floor had less headroom than the ground floor. Gazing around at this unusual residence and possibly wondering
who was to be attacked first, their host informed them that he also had a camp on the mainland, but didn't specify where.

Like most inquisitive children, Fay asked about Sam's diet and he informed her that he ate berries that he collected during the
late afternoon. The location of his foraging wasn’t disclosed, but he added that after cleaning, the water from the nearby river
was safe to drink. If the situation Fay and her friend found themselves wasn't absurd enough, Sam's demonstration of how he
consumed these fruits would surely take the biscuit.

I believe most restaurants don't allow it anymore, but Sam placed a berry in his ear, forcibly propelled his head forward and
caused the pome to disappear. Wiggling his preposterous noggin about, the small fruit appeared in one eye before he shook
his head again and it arrived in his unmoving mouth. It's been suggested by some researchers that this was a way of analysing
the berry to check it wasn’t poisonous, but if Sam was a phantom, I'm sure a better comportment is desired by those beyond
the veil than sticking one's nourishment in one's lug-hole.

Fay reckoned they were there in Sam's abode for around half-an-hour and then it was time for farewells. Saying their
goodbyes, Fay and the boy trekked back across the golf course and told a man they met that they'd seen a ghost. Oddly
enough, he didn't believe them even after they described his costume. Who'd have thunk it?

On 2 June 1973, three weeks after their conversation with Sam, Fay confided in her father about her strange encounter.
He later commented on the detailed description of his daughter’s experience, which he was able to briefly verify with the
boy, and how upset she was when he suggested it wasn’t entirely truthful.

Fay's Pa believed an explanation for the incident of Sam could be make-believe or a shared-hallucination.
He also suggested that what his daughter and her friend met was a person dressed up to scare children.
Surely, a Sherlock Holmes moment.

However, he felt a particular detail Fay offered regarding Sam's digits was decidedly too difficult for someone to convincingly
fake and considering the girl's age, it is an unusual supplement for one of seven years-old.

Who knows...? to date, Sandown Sam has never reappeared on the Isle of Wight and the strange two-tier home was never
found.