Month: September 2009

Yesterday I received the following email, which I’m posting in full. While I obviously respect the privacy of Colonel Van Riper’s family I’ve not reported anything that I know to be untrue or isn’t part of public record. I would like to apologise to Eleanor and her family if she feels I’ve not been sufficiently thorough in quoting my sources.

Dear Mr King,

I was directed to your ‘Sound of Glass’ website by a colleague and am writing to express my concern and dismay at your public slandering of my late father, Maurice Van Riper. While I respect your right to investigate and research the Glass family I feel that to date your representation of my father is inaccurate and damaging to my family’s reputation. The most alarming aspect is that you appear to have inferred quite clearly that my father was in some way responsible for the death of Glass Sr. (Edward Glass).

While it is common knowledge that Glass and Van Riper families were acquainted around the time of Edward’s untimely death, my father was only an occasional visitor to the Glass household, and even then only at the insistence of Edward Glass. It was only when Edward’s diaries were scrutinised immediately after the shooting that my father became a suspect, despite a very solid alibi provided by my mother. Save for the rantings of an obviously very disturbed man, there was no evidence whatsoever that my father was even in the vicinity of the Glass household when Edward was fatally shot. The ensuing public scandal continued to linger long after my father cleared his name and he was never quite the same afterwards, becoming quite withdrawn and easy to temper. He forbade any mention of the Glass name in our house in fact.

It appears your interest lies mainly in Edward’s son Anthony – who according to my mother was a bright but introverted boy before being sent away after the tragedy – about which I have no comment but I would ask you please to consider my family’s reputation when reporting without comment either the fantasies of Edward Glass, a known charlatan, or his poor disturbed son as fact.

Yours Sincerely

Eleanor Teddy (nee Van Riper)
London

After spending some time at York public library, searching the microfiche archive for anything relevant, I came across this disturbing account.

A demonstration at the City Art Gallery, Exhibition Square, York took a tragic turn last night as a young inventor’s demonstration went badly wrong.

Anthony Glass, 43, of Holborn, London was undertaking the latest speaking engagement in what was planned to be a national tour when the malfunction occurred. Mr Glass has become quite infamous for his ‘talking box’ through which, he claims, sounds from the future can be heard.

Dr. David Peters from Huntington, York was an eyewitness to the events. “I attended with my wife as we have read accounts of Mr Glass’ life and works through specialist publications for many years. We were very much looking forward to hearing him speak as although his detractors are most vocal we were staunch supporters of some of his more outlandish theories.”

Dr. Peters continues; “We arrived at 7pm and were seated by ushers dressed in black, which we thought unnecessarily melodramatic. At 7.30pm or thereabouts Mr Glass took to the lectern and began to extol the virtues of his ‘Portable Machine’. In fact, beneath a thick cloth by his side lay the very machine itself and the sense of excitement in the room was palpable as we reached the climax of his most animated monologue.”

Other eyewitnesses to the event concur that Mr Glass seemed irritable and distracted through the course of his presentation, often mopping his brow with his handkerchief and pausing as if to gather his breath on frequent occasions.

When the machine itself was revealed, Dr. Peters recounts, an audible gasp was heard. “It was an otherwise normal looking device, approximately the size of a typewriter, with a series of fins along the top, and some gauges and bulbs along the front. A flexible hose led to the floor, one would assume to vent waste matter of some kind. With a flourish, Mr Glass announced he was about to start the machine and we should watch very closely as sounds and images from the future were to be played to us before our very eyes.”

“Mr Glass turned a series of handles and almost instantly a horrible wailing filled the room. People seemed unsettled by this, and indeed Mr Glass appeared taken aback. The noise grew louder and wisps of smoke appeared from the device’s fins – at this point people had stood up and wanted to leave, but the black-clad ushers firmly pushed them back into their seats. My wife started to cry and I was getting increasingly angry. Mr Glass was trying in vain to switch the machine off, but the wisps of smoke had become seemingly more solid and were conspiring to remove his hands from the handles of the machine, raising visible welts on his arms as they did so”.

“The cacophony and stench emitting from the machine at last became too much to bear, and the director of the City Art Gallery, a sturdy man by the name of Milton, released us all from this torment by taking a chair and smiting the machine repeatedly until it lay still and silent. Mr Glass had been reduced to a weeping, shaking shell of a man cowering in the corner of the raised stage area and was led backstage by some of the ushers. The doors were opened and everyone fled.”

Sadly, this is not the end of this strange tale – Christina Terry, a six-year-old attending with her family was found to be in a catatonic state under her chair and at the time of going to press cannot be roused.

Mr James Milton, director of the City Art Gallery, was not available for comment at this time.