Each Night My Neighbor’s Son Tapped a Mysterious Morse Code Message — Until One Evening It Took a Chilling Turn

My name is Harold Whitaker. I am seventy-three years old, a retired United States Marine, and a man who has learned that silence can be both companion and adversary. There was a time when my days began with the sharp echo of reveille and ended under foreign skies that hummed with uncertainty. Now, they begin with the soft sputter of a coffee maker and the creak of old wooden floorboards shifting beneath… CONTINUE READING…