Season 07 Episode 23: The Box (Pt.3 of 3)

eBay listing. For his part, Kevin says the last year hadn't been going too well for him either. What hadn't been mentioned in his eBay listing, he says, was that not only had his mother had a stroke the day she touched the box, but on that same day, the FBI had inexplicably carried out a raid on his store. A number of agents and police officers had descended on ADDIE's Market, bizarrely confiscating all electrical items with a memory

chip inside. The articles were apparently returned to Kevin a few months later, with no explanation for the raid and no arrests being made. When the landlord got wind of the incident, Kevin was asked to close down the business. He'd been struggling to find work ever since. Thankfully, he says, after he got rid of the box, his mother made a significant recovery from her stroke, but something of the box had remained. Those strange visions and dreams had never

truly left him. Jason isn't sure what to make of it. All. The story of the FBI raid sounds completely Fantasticstle, but he can't argue with the strange visions since he himself knows them only too well. That afternoon, Kevin takes Jason to see ADDIE's Market, his old store, and the Jewish

cemetery where the box's original owner was apparently buried. They attempt to find the house where Kevin first bought the item, but by then the day has got away from them and Jason has to leave to catch his flight home. He makes one final request of Kevin that you make an effort to track down the family who sold him the box. Kevin says he'll do his best. The next few months in Jason's family home are mercifully event free.

One late September morning, Jason tracks a bad smell in his car to underneath the driver's seat, where he finds the putrid carcass of a mouse. A few days later, Jason and his children come back from school to find the house wreaking of excrement. The water from one of the toilets has been completely sucked away, leaving a clear channel to the city's sewer system. On the phone to the public water and sewer works, Jason catches a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes in the mirror and notices the

hives have broken out again all over his body. When he coughs, his mouth is filled with that familiar repellent metallic taste. Or is it blood? He wonders. Either way, he feels with a terrible certainty that the thing is back. Clearly paranormal researcher Steve Mars's appeasement spell, if it had worked at all, is beginning to wear off. Like Kevin said in his eBay listings, also hesitant to sell the box or destroy it, believing that something more substantial was

needed to rid him of its curse. This time, he seeks the advice of his friend Tracy, a devoted follower of Wiccan magic, who had also contacted him early on offering to help. Jason awakes early the next morning, careful not to disturb his wife and children, He picks up the Dibbot box from the spare room and carries it to a property next door, an apartment that he and his wife had bought earlier in the year that were

still being renovated. In the basement is a small door leading to a pitch black crawl space that in turn leads to a hidden room. Jason, carrying sea salt, some herbs, and a purple candle, as per Tracy's instructions, pushes the box through the crawl space and into the other room. Switching on the flashlight, he lights up the makeshift altar he'd constructed earlier from plywod and cinder blocks and slides the box beside it, placing the candle on the other side.

Taking the seasot, he creates a square with a circle inside it on the top of the altar, followed by a cross to mark the four points of a compass. He then sprinkles basil into the four corners and puts some sage in the middle. The candle is placed on top and the flashlight switched off. Bathed in darkness, Jason composes himself for a moment before striking the match and lighting the candle. In the dim glow of the flame, he burns dried sage above the altar and waves it

around three times in a circular motion. As he makes these movements and inhales the scented smoke, he solemnly uttered the words as instructed by Tracy, Beloved Hecty, defender of the weak, protector of those who fear the might of the wicked, for whom each step into the dark is

filled with dread. I pray to you. I ask your favor, Hecaty, who knows well of all things we mortals must fear, Who knows well our best to drive away all ill I ask your blessing Goddess, preserve my home and my family from evil God as well against all that would do as harm. Goddess, hold back the dangers of the dark. Grant me wisdom and courage that I may face my

fears and my foes with open eyes. The flame of the candle flares as Jason moves it to the side and lifts the box onto the altar, placing it over the basle salt and sage. All the while spring the words you will be contained, You will be contained, You will be contained. A gust of wind blows through the basement, and all is still. Jason crawls out of the room, takes one last look at the box, then nails the

door shut. After completing a ritual bath of herbs and salt water, Jason returns to the basement for the second part of the spell, lit by two candles. This time, he pours the salt in a circle around himself, careful not to step over the salt. He lights more sticks of sage and circles the salt perimeter three times, invoking the goddess Hecate once again. Using a burnt stick of sage, he writes on a piece of paper words designed to supposedly banish the apparent demon. All blocks are now removed.

All blocks are now removed. All blocks are now removed. Then he wraps the paper around the sage and lights the whole bundle. Once it's burned out, he makes another three circular movements with one of the candles, closes its eyes and blows out the flame. Jason returns to his house for a second ritual bath, stepping into the hot herb scented water and allowing the peppery basil fragrance to

flow into his lungs. Jason immediately feels lighter, but as he lets his body sink down, a searing pain grips his stomach. In agony, he heaves himself out of the tub and collapses to the floor. Now on his hands and knees, he begins to wretch. The pain, growing in intensity, is moving from its stomach up into his throat. Jason begins to choke and struggle for air. Then, as if wrenched out from within him, a final heave ejects a dark mucus like slime from its mouth. With the pain

subsiding at last, Jason slumps back against the bathtub, exhausted. Later, inspired by the materials used to build the Ark of the Covenant as detailed in the biblical Book of Exodus, Jason has the box formally interred, binding it in a gold plated arc made of acacia wood, because one can never be too careful. After the ritual, there are no more terrifying occurrencies for Jason, but the question of the

Dibbuk Box's provenance still remains. It's been a few months since Jason saw Kevin when they last spoke, Kevin agreed to try and track down the woman who'd originally sold him the box, the granddaughter of its first owner, Havela. Kevin's silence since then was becoming more suspicious by the day. It hasn't escaped Jason's attention that their failure to locate the original point of sale that afternoon in Portland was more than a little convenient. In fact, Jason is beginning

to question Kevin's entire account. When he finally gets back in touch, what he has to say is more than worth the weight. As Kevin explains to Jason, he managed to track down the family after all, and drove out to see them at the first opportunity. After apparently ringing on the front door, he was met by the familiar face of a former classmate who was also, as it happened, another granddaughter of Haveler's. She knew of the box, he said, although it soon became evident that it was just a

joke to her. As Kevin continued to explain, he tried to tell the woman about everything that had happened in the last year, but he could see that she wasn't interested. After wrapping things up. He just turned to leave when another voice called him back. It chose you, Kevin said. He turned to find a frail, elderly woman standing in the doorway beside his old classmate. She was pointing a lean, skeletal finger at him. Who chose me, replied Kevin. The

dibucks from the demonic side, she said. Ka Vin's old classmate introduced the woman as her aunt, Sophie, and together they invited Kevin inside, according to Kevin, as the granddaughter made tea, Kevin and Sophie pulled up chairs on a patio in the back garden. After a moment of quiet, Sophie turned to Kevin and apologized profusely for everything from the events of the Second World War to obscure and damaging stock market fluctuations, as well as most other atrocities

that had occurred in the last seventy years. They were sorry for all of it, she said, As Sophie had apparently explained to Kevin, it all started many years ago in Poland with the seance. It was Havila's idea, she said, born from the daily anti Semitic terrors confronting Polish Jews in the late nineteen thirties, terrors that grew dark and more monstrous with each passing day, and had at some point resulted in the death of Havela's children and husband.

The Jewish population of Poland suffered the greatest losses as a result of the Holocaust and anti Semitic policies. Even leaving aside the myriad and quotidian forms of discrimination, it has been estimated that the population of Polish Jews in nineteen thirty nine was roughly three and a half million. Of these, an estimated three million were murdered during the Holocaust. Determined to fight back, Havela invited a number of friends

to her home one night, including Sophie's mother. When the women arrived, they found a table covered in a weija cloth which bore the words yes and no, as well as the digits not to nine and all the letters of the alphabet. Aveala then explained that she'd called them all there in the hope of summoning spirits that might protect them and their community from the ever encroaching dangers

of fascism. Late that night in nineteen thirty eight, as Kevin continued to explain to Jason Avaler and her friends, succeeded in summoning forth a number of spirits of indeterminate place and form. Over the following weeks, the friends continued to meet and seek guidance from these spirits, but it wasn't long before they began to fear what they'd beckoned

into their world. The spirits were growing restless, demanding to be unleashed so that they might better serve their purpose, but something in their tone alarmed the women, so they hashed a plan banish them for good. In the early hours of November ninth, nineteen thirty eight, Avaler and her friends sat around the table one final time. Sitting on the wija cloth was a small wooden box that looked distinctly like a Jewish wine cabinet, which they planned to

lure the spirits into and keep locked inside forever. But something went wrong and the spirits escaped. It was Sophie's mother's belief that this night had led to every subsequent misery to befall humanity ever since. According to Sophie, the original box had been destroyed during the war. The box bought by Kevin had been made by Havela some time later in Portland in an attempt to recapture the malignant entities, and that, according to Kevin, is where the box comes from.

Jason isn't quite sure what to think. It's an incredible story, and he can't argue with the reality of his own horrific experiences. However, much like the way he feels about Kevin's own supposedly unsettling experiences, something just doesn't add up for Jason. One thing in particular hasn't sat right with him, Kevin's insistence that a completely unexplained FBI rate occurred the exact same day that his mother was shown the box

and suffered a stroke. Then one morning, Jason comes across an old article in the Portland Oregonian News on July eighth, nineteen ninety eight. The paper reported on a series of police stinks that had taken place across Portland the week before. At the time, as detailed in the article, a number of small stores in the area had been running a racket selling stolen items. One of these stores just so happened to be ADDIE's Market before it was taken over

by Kevin. Could the raid that Kevin described have been genuine? After all? A follow up operation, perhaps, albeit some years later, and If this unlikely story was true, why not the rest of it? Certainly stranger things have happened. I originally came across the story of the Dibbot Box after watching Sam Raimis The Possession. Surprised to learn that the film was based on a true story, I soon found my way to a website set up by Jason Haxton the

detailed about it. A few days later, as I was deep into reading a book he'd written about his apparent experiences called The Dibbuk Box. It's fair to say I'd become a little obsessed when I had the opportunity to write my own book of unexplained stories. Jason was one of the first people I wanted to talk to, having already watched some videos of him online. Jason came across on Skype exactly as I'd expected him to, bright, affable and engaging, and full of what I now know to

be a distinct welcoming Midwestern charm. In short, he's everything you'd expect from a curator of an osteopathic museum for an academic institution. We talk for almost two hours as he sits in his office surrounded by a number of wholesome family portraits. I soon get the impression that Jason isn't somebody easily sucked in by superstition, and that his open minded interest in the box is rooted in genuine curiosity rather than any sensationalist obsession with the paranormal, which

of course only makes his testimony more astounding. And Yet, as many followers of this story will know, back in twenty twenty one, Kevin Manis finally came clean. He had made the whole thing up. There has never been such a thing as dibbuk boxes. The idea Manis said was a complete fabrication of his and the box itself was

most likely nothing more than a wooden mini bar. As Jason noted in his book, He's more than happy to admit that even if the box didn't have any genuine supernatural properties, he experienced something that was at times terrifying, something that has claimed by others who came into contact with it, had a tangible physiological effect on him. It puts me in mind of another crazy story that occurred

back in the early sixties. One Wednesday night in June nineteen sixty two, US news outlets reported a curious outbreak afflicting the workers of a textile mill in the town of Strongsville, Ohio. In total, sixty two people were struck down by a mystery illness caused by apparent insect bites. As one worker recounted, quote, the small insect attacks the skin. The bites leave a wound similar to a gnat bite. In about twenty minutes, the victim is struck with severe nausea.

Yet no insect or other cause for the incident was ever found. According to sociologist Alan Kerkhoff, the reason for this was that there was no insect. Instead, it is his belief that the ailments were due to the effect of mass psychogenic illness, or mp I. What differentiates mp I from the broader and better known phenomena of mass hysteria is that MPI results in genuine physical symptoms, an effect shared with another peculiar phenomenon now being taken increasingly

seriously by the medical community. Physician Walter Kennedy first coined the term no se bow in nineteen sixty one, drawing on Harvard researcher Walter Cannon's nineteen forty studies regarding the power of suggestibility in the practice of voodoo and no cibo is quote a harmless substance or treatment that, when taken by or administered to a patient, is associated with harmful side effects due to negative expectations or the psychological

condition of the patient. A counterpoint to the more commonly known placebo effect. No cebot demonstrates how the power of the psyche alone can cause negative effects on the body if it can be sufficiently convinced that its being harmed. One recent extraordinary example of the no sebo effect was demonstrated in a twenty seventeen study led by doctor Peter Sever of Imperial College London. It examined the apparent negative side effects of taking statins, a drug frequently prescribed to

over fifties to reduce cholesterol. Statins were under scrutiny from concerned health care professional They became worried when a number of users reported alarming side effects after taking them. What doctor Sever's study revealed was that these side effects, which mostly involved muscle related aches and pains, were indeed real, only they had nothing to do with the drug itself. According to his findings, patients only suffered from the side

effects when they already had negative expectations of taking the medicine. Essentially, their symptoms had been completely imagined into being. As sever noted, this is not a case of people making up symptoms or that the symptoms are all in their heads. Patients can experience very real pain as a result of the nocebo effect and the expectation that drugs will cause harm. What our study shows is that it's the expectation of harm that is likely causing the increase in muscle pain

and weakness, rather than the drugs themselves causing them. It's important to note that just because we might be able to imagine negative biological symptoms into being, it doesn't mean we can equally imagine negative physiological issues away, like cancerous cells, for example. But the question remains, if the body is capable of inflicting physical harm on itself due to an illusory danger, what might the limits of self affliction be.

Could it be that all the ailments affecting the various owners of the Tibbot box, the hallucinations, red stinging eyes, the burns, and choking fits were in a sense the result of a spirit, after all, the spirit of mind. What of the belief alone in a malevolent spirit catalyzed by the box's mythology its vague connections to Jewish mysticism and a deep cultural fear of the demonic, led to Jason, Joseph, and possibly even Kevin bringing something into being that truly

did endanger them. A fanciful notion, perhaps, Yet, most of our daily lives are affected by illusory and abstract ideas that have physical, real world consequences. The term hyperstition was coined in the nineteen nineties by a group of philosophers working at Warwick University, known collectively as the Cybernetic Culture Research Unit. To learn more about the group, you can check out their now dormant website CCRU dot net or listened to Unexplained season six, episode twenty eight. The Noah

sphere distinct from superstition, which implies a false belief. Hyperstitions, although broadly much more complex, are essentially beliefs that, like an occult thought form or a tulpa, can quote by their very existence, as ideas function causally to bring about their own reality. Once a hyperstition is collectively accepted as a fixed reality, we can become trapped by it, since we no longer have real truths from which to draw on,

only the truth as we think it. To be more profoundly, they demonstrate how our entire lives can be dictated by systems that exist only because we believe them to exist. Consider, for example, the way the stock market works, or the abstract and relative nature of something's worth. In general, we can argue that when stock is first floated on a financial market, there is an initial transaction of real money,

which the company who shares are being floated receives. For the individual or company that has bought those shares, however, they now possess something that has no intrinsic value. It is essentially an illusion of worth. The value will increase or decrease depending on demand, but what drives that demand is often little more than faith in the future success of the company. If you want to trade a share for hard cash you can actually spend it requires others

to also believe in the illusion of its worth. Essentially the entire existence of the stock market. This hyperstition that underpins much of the global economy only survives as long as there are enough people around to believe in it. If tomorrow, for example, everybody decided they no longer thought it was real, the shares in circulation would effectively vanish without any immediately visible impact on the bank account of

the business they nominally represent. Or in other words, if enough people believe in a world that allows for ancient demonic entities, and having fostered that belief, speculate too that such a box exists that houses one of those entities. Regardless of what you believe, you may want to think twice before you open it. This episode was written by Richard mcclinsmith. Unexplained as an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard mcclinsmith. All other elements of the podcast, including

the music, are also produced by me Richard mcclin smith. Unexplained. The book and audiobook, with stories never before featured on the show, is now available to buy worldwide. You can purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Waterstones and other bookstores. Please subscribe to and rate the show wherever you get your podcasts, and feel free to get in touch with any thoughts or ideas regarding the stories you've heard on the show. Perhaps you have an explanation of your own

you'd like to share. You can find out more at Unexplained podcast dot com and reach us online through Twitter at Unexplained Pod and Facebook at facebook dot com, Forward Slash Unexplained podcast. Did the Bad dist