Fast-forward to Saturday morning, 2 a.m., December 1, 1990. We went to bed, but after two hours of tossing and turning, I got up and went to the living room to read. About an hour and a half went by. I finished reading Variety and was lying on the couch reading a pamphlet that AFTRA puts out that contained the obituaries for the year. Just then, I saw my wife standing in the hallway. She told me something woke her up. She hardly ever gets up in the middle of the night, but that night something got her up. She asked me what I was doing and I told her I couldn't sleep and decided to come out in the living room to read. She made her way into the kitchen when suddenly we heard a thump outside of our door. It was the neighbor's paper being thrown up the steps.
Immediately after the thump, we heard music in our apartment. When I say "music," I don't just mean soft background music, I mean loud, blasting music that should have awakened all of Encino. The music sounded like a harpsichord, the kind of instrument you'd hear a minuet played on. My wife came running out of the kitchen and we found ourselves both looking down at our triangular-shaped glass coffee table, because the music was actually coming from the table, as if it had huge speakers in it!
Then the music started to sound like it was coming from the wall where our wall unit is and then the music just surrounded the living room, filling it with this very loud harpsichord music. I was trying to be logical, wondering what in the room could be causing this music to play. I was so intent on figuring out where the music was coming from that I wasn't paying that much attention to what I was listening to. My wife, on the other hand, knew it was nothing in the apartment and was able to concentrate on what she was hearing. After about 45 seconds, the music ended. My wife said, "Oh my God! Do you know what that music was? It was the theme to Superman!" That's right, the famous theme to Superman played on a harpsichord at 5:25 a.m. in our apartment!
When it was all over, my wife had goose bumps all over and I had this wonderful feeling that something very special had just happened. I think what made it all so real, was the fact that she recognized the music instead of me. If I had said it was the Superman theme, she might have said, "Oh, you just wanted to hear that." But it was she who recognized the music, not me. This was just the beginning of our experiences with George Reeves, as you will soon see.
George Reeves' apartment
After this happened, we immediately went across the hall to our next door neighbors, a lovely older couple whom we loved as if they were our grandparents. Being early risers, they were both up and when we asked them if they heard anything coming from our apartment, and they said no. Hard to believe they didn't hear anything, even if their hearing wasn't the greatest because this music was so loud, I could swear that it would have awakened the entire complex, if not all of Encino.
A few days later, while I was shaving, I had a feeling that I must contact Jack Larson and tell him about what happened to us. I found out that he had an agent in New York, so we made up our minds that when we went back east to work with Merv, we'd take a side trip to the big apple to visit with Jack's agent and hopefully get a letter to him.
In the meantime, we thought we'd like to talk to the present owners of George's house and ask them if they had experienced any unusual occurrences while living in his former home. I had heard stories of ghostly happenings there that caused former owners to sell the place. We drove back to the house and parked across the street once again. As we walked to the front door, I thought of the many times George himself walked up the sidewalk to enter his home. We rang the bell, but there was no answer. I had a letter pre-written, just in case there was nobody home, so we left the letter and proceeded back to our car.
As we reached the driveway, a car pulled into the driveway and a young lady got out. We approached her and, hoping she wouldn't think we were a couple of escaped loonies, told her who we were and what had happened to us. As it turned out, she worked as a secretary for the owner, who was a producer. She told us that the night before she went to his house to interview for the job, she had a dream that she was flying through the air like Superman. The next day, during the course of the interview, she learned who the former owner was and almost fell off her chair. She said that strange things do happen in the house. Lights go on and off by themselves and the dog sits and barks at nothing.
According to her, her boss doesn’t take much stock in ghostly happenings, so we thanked her for her time and decided not to attempt to talk to the owner.
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