Me, My Sister, The Models,The Gangsters and a Ghost ...by Bill Knell
A gaggle of models, Ingrid (right)
Me, My Sister, The Models,The Gangsters and a Ghost ...by Bill Knell
It was a warm and quiet 1971 October day at our new house on St Pete Beach. We originally moved to Florida to escape the rat race of New York City and the suburbs where we lived.
Our house in East Meadow, NY
When we first arrived we lived in a rental house just off Central Avenue in uptown St Petersburg. That gave my older parents time to find a house they liked enough to buy and use as a retirement home. My dad was supposed to retire at that time. He didn't.
Being talented in business management, he could not say NO when a close friend recommended him to a Texas billionaire who owned financially distressed resorts on St Pete Beach.
Mr Moneybags flew my dad to Texas for a meeting. The next thing I knew, my fathet was managing several struggling beach resorts. Dad was a natural born wiz when it came to business and be loved his work.
Long story short, he turned them into cash cows in just eight months. His boss was so happy that he gifted our family a new, two story, six bedroom house on St Pete Beach. It was right on the Bay and had a small boat dock.
After a few more months my dad, being the wunderkind he was, suggested several more properties up for sale to his boss. Mr Moneybags bought them and they also became very profitable.
My sister Ingrid used to be my first cousin. After her folks died in 1966, my parents adopted her. She was a model and started doing that at age five. When she moved in with us she was fourteen and had become a top teen model.
I was ten in 1966 and really liked not having to be an ‘only child' anymore. Ingrid and I always got along so well. She had lived in the Bronx which made her very street wise, but had lots of drugs and crime. Our suburban Long Island neighborhood was safer.
The only drawback to having Ingrid around was that she was kind of a Tomboy when she wanted to be and unforgiving of bad behavior directed at her. After moving in with us, she took self defense classes at a local school.
sample of self defense tech
My sis said she took the classes for self protection. I knew better. Even before the classes she was tough. At the age of eleven she best up an older boy who threatened to hurt her if she didn't give him her lunch money.
By the time she was done with him, he was in no condition to eat lunch. She didn't get in trouble because the boy's threats brought about her reaction. No one at school bothered her after that.
Ingrid took self defense classes to get her frustrations out. Models are always under tremendous pressure. Being able to practice self defense moves on others was just what the doctor ordered.
One time after she becae my sister, Ingrid invited me to go to a New York City photo shoot with her. There were several models there, the photog and his staff. When it came time to photograph my sis, the guy became annoying.
He already has a bad reputation among models and his peers, He was bossy, moody, judgemental and impatient. However, his shoots paid well for models because he had good contracts. He was famous for photographing The Doors (famous rock band) in Central Park).
Ingrid was the prettiest girl there by far. For that reason, he kept asking her to work on a bikini shoot he had coming up soon while he was photographing her. My sis never worked bikini gigs. Swimsuits YES, bikinis NO.
Sis was shapely with a perfectly proportioned body, kind of modest and felt that showing too much was not worth it for her or any other girl. The photog was really annoying about her refusal.
Just as he finished up, he made the mistake of saying something rude and slapping sis on her ass as she walked by. He said, ‘’You have a nice butt. You should try.wearing a bikini to show more if it.”
I knew the worst was coming. I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. Ingrid turned around to face him and said, “You have a nasty mouth. You should try keeping it shut. Lemme help you with that.”
Before anyone knew what was happening, sis punched him so hard in the face that she broke his jaw. His assistant called for an ambulance. The police also came.
There are strict laws and rules about touching models in New York. That's because several ended up committing suicide in the 1960s after they were molested or raped by photogs, staff or their agents.
When the photog went out on a stretcher, he was handcuffed to it. Ingrid’s action was considered self defense which kept her from being charged. One of the two cops sarcastically asked the photog, “Did the little lady hurt you?”
Ingrid was really beautiful and had to wear a floppy hat to partially cover her face when we went to areas with lots of traffic. Whenevet she didn't, there were traffic accidents. Really! She was that pretty.
We had an above ground pool on the side of our house in NY. It was grassy and there was lots of room.The best time for my sis to join me in the pool was in the late evening. Otherwise, the neighborhood guys would gather at the front fence to watch her get in and out of the pool. Besides, as a working model, she avoided too much sun.
My mom taught Ingrid how to sew. Before long, she began to design and sew her own clothes. When she wore them to go out with me, our parents or her friends, women of all ages would ask her where she got her clothes?
At age nine, I started going to work with my dad on Saturdays. Otherwise, I wouldn't see much of him. Besides, I liked using the new IBM Selectric typewriters they had there. My folks bought me a nice manual typewriter for my last birthday, so I quickly learned to type.
The company dad worked for sold and rented construction equipment like truck and tower cranes, bulldozers and all kinds of heavy equipment. They had contracts for the 1964 N.Y. World's Fair, the Twin Towers and lots of other projects.
While at the office, I learned to use all the machines and the switchboard. They were always short of weekend workers, so I pitched in where I could. I answered phones, worked the parts department counter, made copies, filed, typed up reports and did other things.
By the time we moved, I had the equivalent of a.business college education, and really more because I was actually doing the work in a busy real world office. My dad's boss was so impressed that he paid me well to come in and work whenever I could.
Besides modeling, Ingrid began making all sorts of outfits for wealthy clients as a side gig. She really enjoyed designing clothes. I helped her with business matters. I was basically running her business with occasional help from my dad.
By the time we moved to Florids, her side gig was making good money. She turned the Florida room in our new house into her studio and eventually found several very talented Cuban Seamstresses that had escaped Castro's Cuba
Almost as soon as we moved into the St Pete Beach House, my folks moved out to a special condo my dad's boss built for him. It was located just steps away from the gulf beach at one of his resorts and just a few blocks away from us.
They never complained, but I knew that constantly having young people around got on their nerves. Especially when Ingrid had pool parties and models showed up. There was lots of loud music cause models loved to dance.
My folks really needed some time and space for themselves. The condo was luxurious and made it easier for my dad having him closer to the resort properties. Ingrid was nineteen by then. She was very responsible and always looked out for me.
My sister's side gigs morphed into a small Fashion House known as ‘Ingrid’s Closet' because it began as a closet business. It grew quickly thanks to dad.
He had the idea of having some fashion shows featuring Ingrid's work at the resorts overseen by him. It turned out to be a great idea.
Ingrid's fashions were seen by tourists from all over the country and world. People attending the shows really enjoyed the experience giving the sponsoring resorts a new and successful entertainment opportunity for their guests.
After that We began having more fashion shows in and around the St Petersburg and Tampa areas. We discovered many more models that were just starting out and gave them the opportunity they needed to really kickstart their careers.
St Pete was once known as “God's Waiting Room” because of all the retirees that moved there. That didn't bother me because I liked shuffleboard. Besides, there was plenty to do. More young people were moving there each year. People of all ages loved visiting Webb's City…The World's Largest Drug Store covering a city block downtown.
I love history and there was lots of that around including MGM's HMS Bounty. Docked at the downtown St Pete Pier, the ship was one of the most authentic and expensive movie props ever built. It was featured in the 1962 film ‘Mutiny On The Bounty'. It was also haunted which really got my attention.
https://billknell.blogspot.com/2025/04/the-mutiny-that-never-ended-by-bill.html?m=1
Then there wss a house built in the 1920s that pro baseball legend Babe Ruth (1895-1948) lived in during Spring Training. Lots of famous and infamous people owned properties at one time or another in St Pete.
Chicago Gangsters Al Capone and Johnny Torrio had houses and other properties in St Pete. They were silent partners in a club called The Gangplank in the Jungle Prada area which still stands. My sis and I ate at the club regularly when it was a restaurant in the 1970s.
Babe Ruth regularly went there and played golf just up the street at the Jungle Country Club which later became the Admiral Farragut Academy, a prestigious private boarding and day school.
When I moved from New York I brought my ever present interest in UFOs and the paranormal with me. I soon found out that there were plenty of opportunities to peak that interest in St Pete.
The Don CeSar, once a popular hotel on St Petersburg Beach and still there today, catered to the rich and famous. It is said to have a ghost associated with Al Capone. The Sunset Hotel, near the Gangplank Night Club, is another location linked to Capone's alleged ghost.
Capone told several associates that he was haunted and sometimes tortured in his dreams by a ghost he called ‘Jack’. He was said to be one of the victims of the infamous St Valentine's Day Massacre.
On February 14, 1929, seven members and associates of George "Bugs" Moran's North Side Gang were gunned down in a Chicago warehouse by four men posing as police officers.
The massacre, which took place at 2122 N. Clark Street in a commercial garage used to store liquor, remains unsolved. While Al Capone, head of Chicago's crime syndicate, is widely suspected of ordering the attack, he was never charged and law enforcement couldn't prove his involvement.
When we first arrived.in St Pete I came across a haunting that immediately got my attention. Ingrid had become ‘The Pepsi Girl' which kept her quite busy and temporarily took her away from her fashion designing and from me.
I knew what it meant to be home for at least a few hours each day by myself when Ingrid and the models living with us were away on assignments. At fourteen years of age, it didn’t scare me. Coming from a city filled with crime and crazies I was used to that.,
I automatically walked around the house we had before going in. I looked for any open windows, unlocked or ajar doors or signs of forced entry. Once I felt comfortable that the house was secure, I entered quickly and immediately locked the door again.
It was a kind of ritual and probably seemed silly to the neighbors. They left garage doors wide open most of the day and back doors unlocked until it came time for their kids to come home from school.
Most people thought of St Pete as a town full of retirees. There was still a significant population of young families and lots of kids. Some of the houses nearby were owned or rented by young couples with children.
Although it took some getting used to, I really enjoyed the change that our move to Florida brought. The people just seemed more friendly. Not that New Yorkers aren’t friendly. There just scared!
When you live in any big city area it’s a must to keep a sort of protective distance between yourself, your family and everyone else. You want to be friendly, but you also want to be safe.
It was the third weekend in October of 1971 and the weather was great! I woke extra early that Sunday morning and walked outside to retrieve the Sunday Paper.
By the time I was back a couple of the models were sitting at the kitchen table. They seemed a bit somber. I shrugged it off and decided to watch the local morning news while our house cook made breakfast. She was a Cuban exile that made delicious food. Her Cuban sandwiches were amazing.
Just after the local weather there was a report that a thirteen year old girl had been found dead in her Northside St Pete home yesterday. Julie Dodge was stabbed to death by an older teen neighbor who became obsessed with her.
He waited until her parents went shopping, came over to her house and entered through the unlocked kitchen door. Julie was sitting in the kitchen having a snack when he entered the room.
Surprised, but not frightened by him, Julie asked the boy what he wanted? He sat down and started talking with her. They were neighbors for several years and the boy did odd jobs for the family on several occasions.
There seemed no reason for Julie to be concerned. Then, the boy started making unwanted advances toward her. She became scared and started screaming. Neighbors heard Julie’s screams through the screen door and called the police.
A man working in his garage up the street also heard the screams and ran toward Julie’s house. As he approached the kitchen door, the teenage boy ran out and away from the home. A woman who was walking her dog saw him run out the door as well. They both recognized the teen as a neighbor.
The man and woman looked in through the screen door and were horrified to see Julie’s body lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood. A large kitchen knife was nearby.
The police arrived moments later and entered the house. Julie was dead, having been stabbed multiple times by her teenage neighbor.
The boy was apprehended later that day at a friend’s house. It seemed that he had a history of odd behavior that his parents had successfully concealed from their neighbors.
Problems at school included threats against teachers and damage to school property. On more then one occasion he was seen talking with girls between the ages of twelve and thirteen. He was sixteen.
Most of those girls were smart enough to avoid him, but one had complained that he once touched her in an inappropriate way.
I sat stunned while watching the tragedy unfold on TV. There was film of the murder scene, pictures of the suspect being brought to jail and a photo of Julie during happier days.
A school picture revealed her to be a beautiful young girl with red hair, freckles and a terrific smile. And I wasn’t the only one affected by the murder.
The John “3:16,” Cook religious broadcast came on after the news. The local St Pete based evangelist spent his entire sermon talking about Julie’s murder and why bad things can sometimes happen to good people.
Cook warned the good people of St Petersburg to turn to God, pray and read their Bibles daily, and have faith in God's ability to protect them. Despite his attempt at words of comfort, the entire town went into a state of shock and mourning. How could something like this happen in St Pete?
Things were different after Julie’s murder. People starting closing their garages, locking their back doors and became very security minded. Although there was no official confirmation of it, it was obvious that local police patrols had increased. Those who could afford Private Security patrols hired them.
That Halloween was a very muted one. Police spokespeople appeared on TV for days before warning potential trick or treaters to be careful, go out in groups or with their parents. The parents of young children opted to have neighborhood Halloween block parties keeping their kids happy and safe.
Tbe biggest knee-jerk reaction to Julie's murder was a ‘Car Psrade' by local supporters of so called ‘crime monitors' who insisted that the town had been inundated with evildoers thanks to s failed local government dedicated to protecting criminals. The Confederate flags reveal their true agenda.
I was interested in the paranormal. Not from the standpoint of involvement, but rather as an interest area. Most books about UFOs, Aliens and various areas of the paranormal were written to take advantage of interest in the subject and had little to contribute in the way of new information or hard facts. There were exceptions.
Books by Frank Edwards and John G. Fuller were well-written paranormal case studies injected with as much objectivity and science as possible. By 1971 I can truthfully say that I had read well over a hundred books on the subject. This gave me a curiosity which later turned my interest into an investigative hobby.
When it came to giving me rides to paranormal seminars, my father usually got the duty when Ingrid wasn't available. He was a former Air Force Officer who had little to say on the subject.
Dad politely sat through the seminars that I attended without commenting on them. I understood how he felt. I started going to these events around the age of eleven. Even at fourteen I must have looked out of place among the crowd of mostly college students and senior citizens.
Although I sometimes felt like the off man out, that didn’t lessen my enthusiasm and most of the speakers were more then willing to tolerate a few minutes of conversation with me after their presentations.
I learned much from the ghost hunters, parapsychologists, journalists, UFO researchers and authors who gave these talks.i later gave back by presenting my own seminsrs.
A little more then a month after Julie’s murder, Ingrid and I flew back to New York City with my mom. Her father had passed away a few months before and she wanted to spend that Thanksgiving holiday with our Grandmother. My dad had to work and couldn’t get away. For me, the occasion was a little more somber then I could stomach.
We were Scandinavian and they were always big on death and funerals. They actually took pictures and held outdoor wakes! To avoid spending the next few days looking at pictures I’ve already seen of Grandpa’s funeral and watching everyone sit around crying, Ingrid and Imade some plans.
As luck would have it, legendary ghost hunter Hans Holzer was giving a talk in Manhattan on Friday night. I had read several of his books. My only disagreement with him was thst he didn't believe in demons. I've always felt that the Devil's greatest lie is that he doesn't exist.
“Hans Holzer (26 January 1920 – 26 April 2009) was an American writer and parapsychologist. He wrote more than 120 books on supernatural and occult subjects for the popular market as well as several plays, musicals, films, and documentaries, and hosted a television show, Ghost Hunter.” - Wikipedia
After riding s subway train and a bus, we arrived at a large hall packed with Holzer fans and would-be ghost hunters. Hans spoke for an extended period of time about Manhattan ghosts and haunts. I was especially interested in his work with noted Psychics who helped identify and exercise spirits, although I did not agree with all their methods and conclusions.
Most of the ghost or haunting cases he investigated were centered around some sort of tragedy. By the time we returned to Florida, much of what Holzer said was still swirling around in my brain.
The all too brief Thanksgiving holiday was over and I was back in school. Mr. Clark was a favorite among students like me. Once a science professor at a prestigious eastern university, Clark had run afoul of his peers and the administration over his spiritual beliefs, which seemed an odd mix of Christianity and Eastern Philosophy.
He didn’t believe in evolution, but was convinced that reincarnation was possible and likely. Ultimately, he was forced out and ended up teaching junior and senior high school classes in Florida. For some that might have been unseemly and many steps down, but Clark didn’t care. He relished the chance to influence young minds.
In his early thirties, Clark could often be found with any number of female intellectuals and hippies in their late teens and early twenties. They just loved his explanations of eastern mysticism and he was also kind of a kid at heart and seemed to relate well to teens.
More then a few of us attended talks he gave after school on various subjects. On the very day I returned to school he announced to his class that there would be just such a talk the following afternoon. The subject would be ghosts! It was more then ironic.
The next day about twenty of us gathered from all his classes and attended Clark’s thirty minute, after school discussion. It was informative as he gave us his view on the survival of the soul and spirit after death. However, something far more interesting happened after the meeting.
Eager to tell Clark about my attendance and take on the Holzer seminar in New York, I stayed around after the discussion ended and almost everyone had left. Before I could speak, a female student stepped forward and asked Clark for some advice. Her name was Jennifer. She recently transferred to our school from across town.
It’s a small world. Jennifer lived next door to Julie Dodge for some time before her murder and moved just a month prior to the tragedy. The two girls became close friends and still regularly spoke on the phone right up until the day of Julie’s murder.
Shortly after she was killed, Jennifer started having strange dreams about Julie. It was as if Julie was reaching out to her. Then, just before Thanksgiving, Jennifer started feeling cold spots in her home.
Although Florida nights were sometimes chilly this time of year, the family had a modern heater which normally made the home toasty warm. The spots centered around Jennifer’s room. One was near her doorway, and the other near her bed.
Things came to a head over the Thanksgiving holiday when Jennifer woke up to find herself staring into Julie’s face. The rest of her seemed to be ethereal. She was smiling just as big as she had on any one of the many sleepovers the girls enjoyed together. Then she was gone.
It had all taken just a matter of seconds. No more incidents like that occurred since then. After that Jennifer began to feel Julie’s presence everywhere in her home and the cold spots increased.
Mr. Clark thought it was all very interesting, but seemed to hold the opinion that Jennifer was just missing her friend. After all, Julie had never been in the new home where Jennifer moved.
Instead of speaking with Clark, I left with Jennifer. I introduced myself as we walked out the door and told her that I thought her ghostly encounter story was fascinating. I enquired about where she lived and found out her house was just a half mile from mine.
Like me, she rode her bike to school. Wanting to see what the house looked like, I followed her home with permission. Once at her house, I was about to say goodbye when she invited me in. Her mother was home and seemed happy that Jennifer had made a new friend, even though it was a male one.
It turned out that her older sister was the popular one in the family. At sixteen, Christy was a stunning high school beauty. Both girls had long blond hair and great looks. That’s where the similarity ended. Christy was outgoing and exuded personality. Jennifer was quietly polite, although not shy.
I was invited to stay for dinner. Her mom gave me a brief tour of the house which included the area outside of Jenny’s room. It did feel very cold for a reasonably-warm afternoon.
I enjoyed a terrific sit down meal with Jenny’s family. Her parents couldn’t have been nicer people. After dinner, Jenny and I spent about thirty minutes pretending to play Monopoly in a family room off to the side of the house.
In reality, we spoke more about Julie. I shared my own feelings about the murder and Jenny told me more about what a great friend and person the murdered girl had been.
Julie was always very popular and had lots of friends. Jenny was her best friend. The two were opposites when it came to social matters. Julie fit in everywhere with everyone, while Jenny always took a step back and felt like a bit of an outsider.
Jenny enjoyed studying the world of the paranormal. Julie was always kidding her about it. One day, for no good reason, she told Jenny that if anything ever happened to her she would come back to make sure Jenny was alright. Then it all became so obvious to me.
The reason for Julie’s return had to do with the fact that Jenny was slow to make new friends and Julie may have been concerned about her. In more then a few cases it was unfinished business or an inability to abandon earthly matters that seemed to keep spirits from moving on.
Holzer talked about a case in New York City where a stable hand had refused to move on and appeared on a regular basis near what was once some old stables in lower Manhattan.
Once contacted by a psychic, it seemed he was worried about a beloved horse. Unable to know time as we understand it, the psychic explained to the spirit that time had moved on and he no longer needed to worry about matters that had been a part of his earthly life. After that the spirit appeared no more.
I had a crazy friend named Dennis who wanted to be the next John Lennon, loved Chopin music and had a sister deeply into doing séances. I wondered how we would ever sell this to Jenny’s parents? They were nice, but didn’t seem like the types to accept the kind of whacked out plan that I had concocted. Then an unusual opportunity presented itself.
Jenny’s dad was a high degree Mason. An annual dinner was scheduled for just before Christmas and Jenny’s parents needed to attend. At the same time, Christy had signed up for a week long trip to the Bahamas with her class and prepaid. There was no way she could cancel.
Since the family had no previous need for a babysitter, they didn‘t know any. I interjected a thought by telling Jenny’s folks about my friend’s sister Amber. She could stay with Jenny until her parents returned home from the dinner. I explained that the girl didn’t drink or do drugs and was very responsible.
Since Amber would be sitting for Jenny, she asked her parents if I could come over and hang out that evening. Amber would drive me home. They agreed.
A week before Christmas, I arrived at Jenny’s house with Amber. We said our goodbyes to Jenny’s folks and set about contacting Julie. Amber was a pro when it came to séances. She had Jenny take out some items that Julie had given her and began to recite a sort of chant as we sat in a circle in Jenny‘s bedroom.
I’ll admit that being a spectator of all things paranormal was far different from being involved. Hearing stories and living one was a totally different experience.
After Amber finished her recitations, she asked Jenny to call for Julie in a very natural way as if she were in the next room. Jenny called out to her several times, and then we waited. It may just have been the atmosphere created by the tension of the moment, but the air seemed filled with electricity.
We sat there waiting about ten minutes before a cold breeze blew by each of us. Then I felt something odd. It was like a warm blanket wrapped around me. We all felt it.
Amber said, “Quickly, Jenny, tell Julie that you’re alright. She needs to move on. You’re happy in your new school and Bill is here as proof that you have already made another good friend in your new school.”
Jenny said the words with heart. Another few minutes went by, then Amber announced that we were finished. After straightening things up, we spent the rest of the evening discussing our feelings about the event until Jenny’s folks came home.
There were no more incidents after that. Jenny and I became very good friends and stayed in contact for years until she died in 1998 of a brain tumor. I visited her a few weeks before she passed on and recall her saying, “Julie is waiting for me and I can’t wait to see her again.” Sometimes the paranormal just tugs at your heart.
Bill can be contacted on FACEBOOK.
Radio Personalities that book me as a guest for their shows call me The UFO GUY. This book covers my early life experiences and investigations. As you’ll soon discover, my life has always been surrounded by the paranormal and unusual events. People that have experienced the unexplained have been drawn to me, and I to them. - Bill Knell
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