
It’s the 1970s in Beverly, a small town in Jamaica where everyone knows everything about each other and gossip travels fast. Fifteen-year-old Claudia thinks she’s heard it all… But nothing can prepare her for the stories that start to spread after one of her neighbors passes away.
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First, you must understand that I loved him. Loved, love him. I love him no matter what lies they say. No matter what you think I did. Peter loved with his words. John with his eyes. Thomas loved his doubts. Matthew only loved himself. I loved with my whole being. I watched in awe and respect to learn the mystery of it. The magics, the spells, the bread, the fishes, the wine. We both knew that miracles are never free. It all takes coin. And for the coin, for the things that matter, There were never 12 disciples.
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Now.
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Now there was only one disciple. Me. The only one he trusted. Me. Me.
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Me.
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One deserving to stand at his right hand. He read my intentions, my secrets as easily as he read the Scriptures. I could sooner flap my arms and fly into the sun than deceive one such as he. But yes, yes, I argued, I fought, I begged him not to do this on Bended knees, I begged him. But in the end, I did take the 30 pieces of silver as he commanded. Do you imagine he did not know. When I knelt before him at the final meal. Trembling, calling him Rabbi, Master. Kissing his cheek. He smiled at me. Then embraced me. As the soldiers waited, he held me. He pressed the vial into my hand. Whispered to me as I wept. Give this to the woman at the end. And she will become his God. And even as I seized him. Beat him, wrapped him in chains. He asked my forgiveness. My forgiveness. Sometimes I think he knew. He charged me with the more difficult path. I could not stay in the city. I could not witness their glee. The savage joy of those who had once called him Lord. Lord. I should have stayed with him. Besides him. My sin, my real treachery. Was to flee as he commanded. Stustard. Now. Sa. Know this. Sometimes the final journey. It isn't as final as you might think. Our next story takes us to jamaica. It's the 1970s. And our storyteller, claudia, is just 15 years old. Claudia, take it away, Sa.
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We live in a little town called Beverly. It's an area where there's no electricity at nighttime. We use oil lamps and the moon. Up on the hill where we live, we have a little stream. We call it a gully. You'd either go to the gully and wash up. Just go out there and wash up your, you know, arms, legs, feet. Or we'd go out and we'd fill up our basins with water. And leave it in the sun to warm up, right. So we can have a bath at nighttime. Everybody knows everybody's business. Especially over in our area. Cause it's so small. And like, everybody has kids. So all us kids all hang out together. So you know what was going on in everybody's house. Whether you want to or not.
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Claudia's closest neighbors were an older couple. Whom all the kids in town called Uncle Pam and Aunt Sil. Everybody loved Aunt Sil.
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She was such a sweet woman. On Sundays, she'd make fried dumpling and fish. Codfish and ackee. And then after church, she'd bring it to the church for the kids. And for people who will not be having a Sunday meal. You could smell it coming. You could just smell that thing. Oh, my God. Every time you smell it coming. Your belly start rolling. Because you know it's going to be good. But Uncle Palm was not a very nice man. One day we're playing marbles, for example. One roll right under his fence. And he's right there. And he look us Straight in the face. And he says, you know, you're not getting that back, right? The man walked right towards us and pick up that marble and put it in his pocket and walk away. He was mean and he was mean to the neighborhood. So a lot of people did not like Uncle Palm. Sometimes the kids would spook his donkey, but I didn't do that. You know, he was a grumpy old man and I accepted that he's a grumpy old man. So I got along with him. It was about dusk. It's about six o' clock in the evening. It's still bright, but it's. It's getting, you know, dark because there's no electricity for miles and miles. I'm sitting on the rock washing my foot and I can hear the donkey coming, right? So I turn my head and I see Uncle Palm. He's going home on his donkey. So I said, hey, Uncle Palm. And he says, hi, Joyce. In Jamaica, everybody's got a pet name, right? They never call you by your real name. There's gotta be a name. So mine was Stringbean, because I'm tall or Joyce. So he says, hi, Joyce. And I said, good night, Uncle Palm. And he says, good night. Wash up, went back in. We ate dinner and go to bed. Around 9 o' clock that night, right? I'm laying in my bed half asleep, and I hear this wailing coming, like people just crying.
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The crying sounded like it was coming from Aunt Sil and Uncle Pam's house.
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To hear screaming like that, you know, something bad happened. Now I'm like, okay, we gotta go find out what's going on.
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Claudia, her younger sister Sharon, and their grandmother, whom they called Mama, got dressed and walked down to Aunt Sil and Uncle Pam's. By the time they got to the house, most of the neighborhood was already there. People were crowded around Aunt Sil consoling her.
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Uncle Palm was dead.
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Apparently, Uncle Pam hadn't come home from work that day. So a group of the men from town had gone looking for him. They found him at his farm dead from a heart attack. And it seemed like he'd been dead for a while
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because he was cold and a piece of his lip was bitten off from rats. One of the rats bit a piece of his lip off. And I'm like, but Mama, Uncle Palm couldn't have died. I saw him and they look at me and like, but you couldn't have seen him. I said, I saw him. He was going home on his donkey and he said, hi. And I said, hi. And that's it. And then mama was standing there and I just put my head on mama's chest and just started crying because I could see him, I could see this man going home and I didn't want to see it. So I'm just balling my face off saying, mama, he's not dead. He says hi to me, he's not dead. And she's like, jai, he's dead. They have his body, he's dead.
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The evening of uncle Pam's nine night rolled around.
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When you die in Jamaica we have a thing nine days after that they call nine night. And nine night is like a celebration of your life. But in my memory it's the celebration of eating. Everybody eats. They come for night night and it's a celebration. They party, they eat, they drink. There's music, people are singing, people are dancing. His wife, she was out there. My grandmother, everybody, the neighbors, everybody was out there. You know the neighborhood and extended neighborhoods. You see some of the church sisters in the neighborhood, even though he was not religious. But church sisters always come. They wear the long white robe, and they have a wrap on their head, which is white. And they bang their tambourine and they just sing and dance. We're just chilling, running around with the other neighbor's kids, Just minding our own business. So as we're running around, right, I look over towards my left, and there was Uncle Palm. He was standing right on this palm tree, just staring in our direction. He was wearing a black tie, and he had a felt hat on his head, right? Yeah. He was just looking at the party, just leaning up against the tree. And I stop, and I said, there's Uncle Palm. There's Uncle Palm. Everybody says, stop and look in the direction that I'm pointing. Because I pointed right to the tree. And nobody saw Uncle Palm. And I said, he's standing under the coconut tree right there. And I told him exactly what he was wearing. One of the people that were there, she says, that was what he was buried in. That's what he want to wear. That's what he bearing. That's it. I dat him aware. This lady said she must have seen him because only children see Duppy. And she said, what she's wearing. She must have seen him. People talk about duppies in Jamaica. That's what they call ghosts, right? And that freaked me out, because you don't want to listen to Duppy. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I look around, there's Mama. I just run to Mama and start crying. And I put my head on her chest, and she's like, come, come. She took me and Sharon and walk us halfway up the path, right? Then we went home. I couldn't sleep. I was terrified. I was sitting there thinking that this dead man came back. I just saw Duppy. I just kept saying it over. I just saw Duppy. I just saw Duppy. Uncle Palm came back. So I just sat there freaking out because I can't believe I just saw a dead person. And that's the second time I'm seeing him.
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A few days later, Claudia and Sharon were home alone, waiting on the porch for Mama to get back from town.
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I think we're probably more than likely playing marbles because that's what we did when we had nothing better to do with our days. My mama comes back and she said, aunt Silly's not well. Oh, and she said, the dog isn't well. How come them sick at the same time? She says, well, you know, them tinks say uncle Palma Play with our food. What? They said, uncle Palm is playing with her food. I said, uncle Palm can't play with her food, Mama. Uncle Palm is dead. That's what them say.
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The word around town was that Uncle Pam wanted his wife and his dog with him on the other side. And he'd do whatever it took to make that happen, even if it meant poisoning their food.
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Every single person, every single person is saying that's why they're sick. Within five days, the dog was dead. And then Aunt Sil was taken to hospital.
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Thankfully, Aunt Sil started to get better. But then one of her daughters, Fay, went to visit her. And suddenly Aunt Sil got worse,
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Starting to believe that he followed Faye. They told us, like, you can't go visit her straight. Don't go straight. So in order to visit her, you'd go here, there, and everywhere. Then you would go visit. Because they're saying that Uncle Palm is going to follow you if you go straight. So at first, what Faye used to do was she'd go to work first, and then from her work, she would go visit her mother. After she was doing good, she was doing much better. So because she was doing better, right, Faye figured it's okay. So she just got up and decided she's going to go visit her mother first, then go to work, because she had the time. So she went straight to visit her mom. And all of a sudden, Ansel got sick. Like, seriously sick. Within 24 hours, Aunt Sil was dead.
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The day of Aunt Sil's funeral, the little Pentecostal church in town was packed full of people who wanted to pay their respects.
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The sisters are wearing their white robes and their white wrap around their heads. The family all sits up front.
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In Jamaica at the time, it was common for people to be buried at home. So after the service, everyone made their way back to Aunt Zyl's house.
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The pallbearers, they took the coffin from the hearse. They're all grown men, young fit men in their 20s. Everybody gets ready. The sisters all stand behind the coffin, and we all start singing. Because taking it to the grave, you gotta sing. Shall we gather by the river the beautiful, beautiful river they were comfortably carrying her, and then all of a sudden, their arms were breaking. As we're getting closer to the grave, the coffin starts dropping lower and lower. This coffin that weighed a feather just became an elephant. They were sweating. No way should six grown men be groaning carrying this little wee lady. The distance that they were taking her from is not that far that you should be even Breaking a sweat. And I'm telling you, no lie. That coffin was almost touching the ground. These men, their arms are stretched to the max. Trying to move this coffin. And now people are freaking. She don't want to bury beside him. She don't want to be buried beside him. Lord Jesus looks. So then they finally get the coffin to the grave. And they use the ropes to lower it. But that coffin did not want to go there. It did not want to go. After the funeral, I couldn't sleep for days, right? I was terrified. I thought Uncle Palm was going to come and get me.
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Claudia was so scared that eventually her grandmother went to a healer in town for help. Who told her how to cast a spell for protection.
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So my grandmother ended up giving me a bath. She puts in there a dime. Scallion, frankincense and myrrh. A product called Blue. They use that to whiten clothes. So you just put in your water and just dissolve. And she puts me in this water. And she read a chapter from the Bible in Psalms. While she made me sit in this nasty bathtub of nastiness. It was gross, but I felt good. After it was all done, I never had any more problems. And I felt good. I don't know if it's because what my grandmother did worked. Or maybe because he came for his dog. And he came for his wife. And he got what he wanted and he didn't come back. I never saw him again.
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But as the years went on, she would think about him sometimes. And wonder why Uncle Pam had chosen her. Out of everybody in the neighborhood to reveal himself to.
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I never harassed him or his donkey. That's probably why he showed himself to me. I just let him be.
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We want to thank you. Thank you, Claudia, for sharing your story, your energy with our show. And I want to let you know that sadly, Claudia passed away recently. And the entire Spook team wants to extend their deepest condolences to her family. And Claudia, if you are listening, we wish you all the peace and all the joy on the other side. That story was scouted by Paulina Creeky. The original score was by Nicholas Marks. Was produced by Zoe Ferrigno.
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Sam.
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I could not witness their glee. The savage joy of those who had once called him Lord. Lord, I should have stayed with him beside him. My sin, my real treachery, was to flee. So I ran through the night. His vial, his promise tucked tightly under my tunic. Alone down the dark road. Alone in this task again. I was his only disciple Charged to give away what by right should be mine. Running, walking, tripping, stumbling, crawling. And from that darkness I beheld an inn, looked up to see her, barefoot, a village woman, barely more than a girl. Girl clutching a candle, shimmering golden light. I wanted to laugh, to weep. She said, you have arrived. As if all I had done, all I had seen, had suffered, had sacrificed, was but a road leading to an audience with her. She extended her hand, motioned for me to fly, follow a gesture for a dog. But still, even here, even now, I obeyed. Through a warren of twists and turns, she led me through the dim. We passed to either side, lovely bed decked. Women in multi colored feathers, jewels, painted skins, feline. The men, their silent partners decked with gold and silver. All wore patches of bright cloth where their eyes had once been. They moved with such grace that watching them felt lowly, uncouth. Perhaps this was the hell he had spoken of. Or maybe the heaven. Then the sightless begin to sing, to scream in harmony, mouths open, arms outstretched. The woman stopped, then sat on a chair and listened till their voices grew silent. She folded her hands in her lap, waiting. The vial thrummed next to my breast, feeling suddenly alive. It waited too to remake the world, wanted to betray everything I had suffered, to build. Still, still I reached to gift it to her as he had commanded. But then she leaned toward me, eyes eager, fingers splayed to receive my gift. She smiled. And I stopped. How dare he? How dare he pour the power of creation into her dirty hands, Casting aside his true servant. Me. Me. I would not. I will not. The sightless danced around us now, swaying to the same rhythm as the hungry vial beating next to my breast. She answered my unspoken why. She said, they dance to remember. You'll dance to forget. Madness. She looks down as if ashamed of the gleaming knife clutched in her hands. We must sacrifice. We must all sacrifice. I remember his eyes. Then his words when he embraced me, whispered into my ear. Yours, he promised, will be the most difficult path. And I felt a shock like ice water. I looked down and saw that she had stabbed me with her blade, her eyes wet with apology. Then I felt the same sharp sting from behind. I gasped anew as another blade protrudes from my abdomen. As I screamed, the shadow dancers each stab through my body. In their turn, they stabbed and stabbed and stabbed with steely knives as if I were a beast. But I did not die. I did not fall. No, I did not bleed. I opened my eyes in wonder, to stare at them staring at me. I drew each blade in turn from my flesh and tossed it to the ground. The skin beneath my tunic glistened, unbroken, whole. The vial burned. It would not let me die. Task unfulfilled. They bowed blind heads to me. I turned and fled. Back past the grasping hands, past the shadow, past the maze. I ran for the door, desperate to find the passage back, crashing through shadow, through darkness, back to the road. And I ran. And I ran. A thousand years I ran, forever young, unbroken face staring back in the mirror. 2000 years. Around me the world ages, crumbles, rebuilds, crumbles again, through plague, empire, cathedrals, kings. Sometimes I awake back in the Master's chambers, unchanged. He chose death for himself, but cursed me with eternal life. Again and again she waits. Again and again I flee, running, still clutching tight the vial that should be mine. In the quiet I hear the Master laughing, mocking. He knew even then. He asked the one thing I could never give. He knew me better than I knew myself. And I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Yes, the girl whispers, smiling. Run away, for it is mine to receive. Depart anytime you like, but you will never leave. Sam. Now some of us, for lack of a better term, are given tasks, things that we have to do before we depart this place. And a very small few from extremely early age know exactly what those tasks are. If you or someone you know was given a task, I would sure like to know about it. I want to know who gave it to you. I want to know what you're charged with. And I need to know what the cost, both for you and the rest of us, is if you fail. Please let me know. Spookednapjudgment.org because there's nothing better than a spooked story from a spooked listener. Spook Studios flows through a raging river of infinity underneath KQED in San Francisco. No SNAP Studios content may be used for training, testing, or developing machine learning or AI systems without prior written permission. On Team Spooked, the union representative, producers, artists, editors, and engineers are members of the national association of Broadcast Employees and Technicians, Communications Workers of America, and AFL CIL Local 51, and this book is brought to you by the team that knows to separate the sacred from the profane. Except, of course, for Mark Ristage, because he believes the profane is sacred. There's David Kim, Zoe Frigno, Eric Yanez, Marisa Dodge, Regina Bediaco, Miles Lassie, Teo Dicott, Paulina Creaky, Elizabeth Z. Pardieu, Adithya Matu, Lulu Jemima, Nicholas Marx. The Spook theme song is by Pat with CD Miller. My name is Glenn Washington and recently in a home turned museum in downtown Manhattan. The owners took a second look. And there, built into the hallway, sat a dresser. When they pulled away the heavy bottom drawer of this dresser, they discovered a rectangular opening painstakingly cut into the floorboards. Curious, they followed this mystery downward through the hidden bowels of the home. And there they found neatly preserved enclosed space, just 2ft by 2ft, tiny, tiny, almost impossible to detect. Beneath that, a ladder leading down to the earth. In this case, leading down to freedom. Because what they had uncovered was a very secret stop on the Underground Railroad, hidden in plain sight that someone, probably a man named Joseph Brewster, had purposely built into his family home in direct defiance of the Fugitive slave Act of 1850, which demanded harsh punishment for anyone daring to give aid, assistance or passage to an escaped enslaved person. Consequence defied. Makes me think what I do then. Slave catchers roaming, terrorizing, armed with the full weight and sanction of the federal government. More importantly, what am I building now to ward off this darkness gathering outside my own door? Never ever, Never ever. Never ever, ever, ever. Never turn out the lights. It.
Podcast: Spooked
Host: Glynn Washington (KQED and Snap Studios)
Episode Release Date: May 1, 2026
Main Storyteller: Claudia
Theme: Supernatural encounters, family, grief, and Jamaica’s ghostly folklore
In “'Till Death Do Us Part,” Spooked explores the thin veil between the living and the dead through the eyes of Claudia, who recounts chilling, firsthand ghostly encounters from her childhood in Jamaica. The episode weaves Claudia’s intimate, atmospheric narrative with broader reflections on loyalty, betrayal, and the power of memory—both earthly and supernatural. As Claudia’s tale of seeing the restless spirit of Uncle Palm unfolds, the episode layers in Spooked’s signature meditative monologues, offering listeners a contemplation of otherworldly debts, unfinished business, and the weight of tasks we carry through life.
[02:14]–[07:13]:
[07:13]–[24:39]:
[14:41]–[17:57]:
[20:41]–[23:10]:
| Timestamp | Speaker | Quote | | --- | --- | --- | | 02:14 | A (Host Narration) | “First, you must understand that I loved him...I love him no matter what lies they say.” | | 07:13 | B (Claudia) | “We live in a little town called Beverly...Everybody knows everybody’s business. Especially over in our area.” | | 11:34 | B (Claudia) | “I saw him...He says hi to me, he’s not dead.” | | 16:30 | B (Claudia & Neighbor) | “That was what he was buried in...Only children see Duppy.” | | 18:45 | C (Narration) | “The word around town was that Uncle Pam wanted his wife and his dog with him on the other side...” | | 21:07 | B (Claudia) | “The coffin...just became an elephant...She don’t want to be buried beside him.” | | 23:21 | B (Claudia) | “She read a chapter from the Bible in Psalms...It was gross, but I felt good.” |
[24:39]
Claudia reflects on why she, out of all the neighborhood children, was chosen to see Uncle Pam’s ghost—believing it was because she never “harassed him or his donkey.”
The episode closes with the sad news of Claudia’s recent passing, and the Spooked team offers condolences, tying her haunting, beautiful storytelling both to the realm of spirit and the lasting power of memory.
[26:14]–END
The host closes with a return to the mysterious “eternal disciple” monologue, expanding on themes of endless tasks, betrayal, and supernatural stagnation.
Listeners are invited to share their own stories of “tasks” that have chosen them, with a direct call for supernatural encounters.
Glynn Washington tells a final real-life ghost story about an Underground Railroad stop found hidden in plain sight—a reminder that sometimes the most profound mysteries and acts of courage are half-remembered, waiting to be discovered.
The episode maintains a suspenseful yet tender tone, blending Jamaican folklore, vivid childhood memory, and existential musings on fate and unfinished business. Claudia’s voice is warm, detailed, and honest, often bringing humor and affection even to chilling events. Glynn Washington’s narration bookends the episode with philosophical depth and a slightly poetic cadence.
This episode is a stand-out for its well-crafted narrative, cultural insight into Jamaican beliefs about death and the supernatural, and the emotional impact of Claudia’s story—now made more poignant by her passing. It offers both a gripping ghost story and a meditation on how the past, grief, and memory can haunt, comfort, or guide the living.
“Some of us, for lack of a better term, are given tasks, things that we have to do before we depart this place...I want to know what you’re charged with. And I need to know what the cost, both for you and the rest of us, is if you fail.”
– Glynn Washington, [26:14]