Category: Traumafessions

Hello there, Kindertrauma!

My name is Piotr and I've written to you once before, asking for help with naming a trauma. This time, I'd like to make a traumafession regarding certain Polish movie that was a huge trauma for me… and, from what I've heard, quite a lot of people of my generation.

The movie is 1983's "Akademia Pana Kleksa" ("Mr Inkblot's Academy"). It's a movie (based on a book) about a magician named Pan Kleks (Mr. Inkblot) and his magical academy for boys. It's a very good movie and a source of very fond memories for Poles who were kids in the 1980s. Aside from certain section, that is… A section about wolves.

See, part of the story is a flashback taking place in a fairy tale kingdom. The flashback concerns a young prince who, foolishly, shoots a wolf when travelling through a forest. The wolf in question turns out to have been a king of all the wolves… and his death causes a bloody retribution: an invasion of wolves, who overrun the kingdom, siege the capital and, eventually, kill the young prince's whole family.

Sounds ghastly? I'd say yes, even to our adult minds. Then imagine, if you will, what it was like for children. Who were actually *shown* the whole story on the screen. Just imagine scenes with legions of wolf-headed troops walking with torches, howling, their eyes flashing… with a hard-rock soundtrack booming from the speakers. This stuff was horror-movie level of scary… Believe me, a lot of people of my generation name this sections of "Academy" as the scariest thing of their childhood.

I've done some searching and I found the particular scene posted on Youtube. See for yourself:

A curious fact: the song that plays in the background was composed for this movie by TSA, an important Polish hard rock band.

Well, here's a traumafession for you!

Cheers,

Piotr W.

So, Kindertrauma, we meet again. I get a feeling that I'll be submitting to your site quite a bit. Sure, there might have been little one time episodes like crying at Twister and Dante's Peak, scurrying back to bed like a bat out of Hell after witnessing a guy's back split open… But there's no scene in any movie that has affected me more than this. It is the scene that I blame for my emetophobia (fear of vomiting). Yeah, I'm talking about Mouse Hunt.

Let's describe the scene as quickly as possible. I don't want to ruin my dinner.That scene where the mayor accidentally eats a cockroach, finds out about it, vomits it up, and dies? UGH. I'm shuddering just typing this. That scene, that DAMN SCENE. Oh, how it scarred me for life! Ever since seeing that scene, just thinking about someone throwing up gives me so many unwanted conflicting feelings. It makes me feel like throwing up, but the idea of throwing up absolutely terrifies me. Someone throws up in the room? I have to leave as quickly as possible. I can't leave? I retreat to the farthest corner of the room and attempt to cover both my mouth and ears at the same time. Afterwards, I will not be satisfied until I've almost given myself prune fingers from washing my hands. I am also extremely paranoid about any sickness of this type. If I know that a person has been sick or has been in a house with sickness going around, I will avoid them like the plague until I am certain the coast is clear. It may sound awful, but I just can't help it. The idea of vomiting just affects me that much.

And you know why? It's because of Mouse Hunt. Thank you, Mouse Hunt! You scarred me for life, and I owe it completely to you!

Since everyone has been talking about logos that have scared them, I thought I might as well add my own. It was the BBC logo from the very early nineties. (I think they changed in 96 or 97) two lines would come from either side and meet in the middle before the letters BBC would appear, but that bit didn't scared me, it was the ominous music that played in the background.

I loved watching old British comedies as I grew up with them, but I would dread it when someone played a video and that darn logo would come up first. One night I notice my parents watching a British comedy so I sat with them. Then when the tape had finished I made a mercy dash back to my room as the dreaded logo does indeed appear at the end of the tape. I remember one time I told my dad to fast forward that bit as it was scaring me and he just replied: "You're being very silly!" No! I wasn't! It was scaring me!

Then years down the track, I was over at my cousin's place (he was only 3 or 4) and he decided he wanted to watch a cartoon… A BRITISH CARTOON!!! That meant the horrid logo would once again pop up and haunt me. Anyway, the tape was played and I was crouching in my chair when… GASP! THEY CHANGED IT! THEY CHANGED THE BBC LOGO! Instead of the two lines meeting together and playing that horrid music, There were two ribbons floating diagonally with the letter fading in and nice gentle music was playing. I tell you what, I could not tell you how relieved I felt that day. Phew!

My name's Dave Bekerman, I'm a longtime fan of your site, and in the spirit of Halloween, I want to share my Kindertrauma…

Zoos… And in particular, monkeys.

One of my earliest memories involves visiting the Central Park Zoo with my parents as a toddler, and excitedly encountering all sorts of exotic animals. That visit took a slightly dark turn for me as I watched in shock as a seemingly benign llama reached its head over the fence and nibbled at my mother's hair, thinking it was straw. She shrieked, and pulled her head away – no harm done. Still, there was something primal and horrific about that animal crossing the barrier and violating our space.

As I got older, the very concept of zoos became increasingly worrisome. These enclosed animals were living, sentient beings, taken from their natural habitats, and trapped behind cages for our amusement. If human beings were treated that way, their captors and the people who enjoyed their enslavement would be monsters.

This notion became most distressful when it came to monkeys. The similarities between simians and people are impossible to ignore. Documentaries like Koko drive home the point that these amazing creatures are closer to us on the evolutionary chain than many are willing to admit. These creatures have obvious personalities… you can see their souls in their eyes. At the zoo, they fling themselves around with an agility and power that can be awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Once I became a horror fan, I was enraptured by Don Brautigam's stunning cover art for Stephen King's Night Shift, which featured a wind-up monkey, and movies like George Romero's underrated Monkey Shines. The real-life news story about the Connecticut woman whose face was ripped off by her pet chimpanzee in 2009 was a turning point where the horror became absolutely real and mortifying to the core. She trusted and loved this pet, and in a flash, the animal turned on her. Nature bit back.

My longtime fear of and fascination with monkey has manifested itself in a new project: Bubu: The Murderous Monkey, a free web-comic that is updated twice a week. Along with co-creator, Frank Hannah (screenwriter of The Cooler, Damage, and Hunt to Kill), and amazing artist, Alwyn Talbot, we're bringing to life an adorable, deadly character that I think you and Kindertrauama fans will absolutely dig. We're turning my childhood fear into art! Albeit, twisted art…

You can check out the exploits of our furry little friend here and share my livelong trauma…

BUBA THE MURDEROUS MONKEY! COMIX! FACEBOOK! TWITTER!

A little while ago (September 30th) Kindertrauma celebrated its 6th anniversary! I'm guessing we still have tons of ground to cover, as I haven't even shared all of my own hoarded traumas yet! Case in point, 1975's RACE WITH THE DEVIL! Oh man, how this one used to terrify me in the best possible way. I recently revisited this childhood favorite and although it doesn't chill me to the bone quite the way it used to, it surely brings back memories of being thoroughly frightened and excited at the same time. Here are some of the elements that helped RACE WITH THE DEVIL make my kiddie heart race…

CAUGHT SPYING!

Our story finds two couples on vacation in an RV stumbling upon a Satanic sacrifice and being hunted down as unwanted witnesses by the participants. As their wives hang out within the comfort of the vehicle, drinking buddies Roger and Frank (PETER FONDA & WARREN OATES) share a pair of binoculars, jokingly hoping that the semi-nude ritual they are seeing will turn out to be an orgy. No such luck. When Frank's spouse Alice (LORETTA SWIT) loudly calls curfew on the two peepers the Satanists are alerted and our vacationers must scramble to escape with their lives.

As a kid I could relate to the idea of getting into trouble for viewing what I was not supposed to. You see, when it first came on TV, I was not allowed to watch THREE'S COMPANY because it was too risqué! This meant that after LAVERNE AND SHIRLEY was over, I would routinely pretend to go to bed and then watch it from the second floor between the staircase bannister. How do you like that? I was allowed to watch human sacrifices in RACE WITH THE DEVIL but not three people living together out of wedlock in THREE'S COMPANY! I guess we were a typical American family; boobs were acceptable as long as they were stabbed and followed by a car chase.

SATANISTS!

I know its hard to believe but there was a time when I thought Satan worshipers were the most dangerously insane religious group! Flash forward a couple decades and it's clear they'd have to try much harder to earn that ranking!

SUSPICIOUS OLDERS!

As a kid I found old people, with the obvious exception of Granny from THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES, creepy. It wasn't because they were wrinkly, it was because I was constantly force-fed the idea that they were good-natured and wise when my actual encounters with them revealed them to be grumpy, scornful and generally irrational. If you are old and I have hurt your feelings, please console yourself by eating some gross candy that nobody else wants.

UNTRUSTWORTHY AUTHORITY FIGURES!

When you're a kid you are told that if ever you should find yourself in trouble, you can always count on the police. One need only get a gander of the boar head hanging on this guy's wall to realize that might not always be the case.

RATTLESNAKE IN THE CUPBOARD!

If only I could travel back in time and share with my younger self the true stats of how many times I would encounter rattlesnakes, tarantulas, sharks and the metric system throughout my life.

PET DEATH!

Truth be known, I'd rather see a packed school bus burst into flame and fall off a 500-foot bridge into icy waters than a dog suffering a splinter. Hanging a dog, even if you are a devout Satanist, is inexcusable! Making trauma matters all the more dire for mini-Unk is the fact that the pet dog slain in RACE WITH THE DEVIL is named Ginger; that was my beloved childhood pooch's name!

LORETTA SWIT!

Normally I'm one to recommend the casting of baggage-free unknowns in horror films but utilizing a recognizable presence has its perks too. All children of the seventies must be familiar with LORETTA SWIT as, if I recall correctly, her show M.A.S.H. was shown in reruns approximately eighty million times a day. SWIT played tough cookie Major Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan. Witnessing the usually uber-competent SWIT turn to terrorized jelly in the face of her Satanic attackers in RWTD was to kid–me an unsettling signifier of just how bad the situation was.

TRAGIC RV TRASHING!

While my brothers were fond of drawing dragsters, as a kid I would draw vans and RV's so that I might fuss over their stylish interiors. If that makes me sound like a homemaker in training, let me add that I made sure to draw gun turrets on my dream vehicle's roof to destroy all enemies. Seeing a supped up machine like the one in RACE (it has a microwave!) needlessly trashed and damaged was pure tragedy in my young eyes!

STOLEN LIBRARY BOOKS!

God bless every movie that features a "gathering information" scene in a library! They always make me happy! In RACE's requisite research bit, the two wives (SWIT and LARA PARKER) drop by the local library to dig into some tomes about witches. They find two books that suite their needs but are told by a librarian (script supervisor JOYCE KING according to IMDb) that because the books are reference books, they can't be checked out. Their lives on the line, the desperate ladies swipe the books! Unbelievable though it may be considering all the Satanic panic going on, kid-me actually had the nerve to feel some anxiety over this thievery! You're not supposed to steal books from the library! That's not allowed! I was placated slightly when SWIT and PARKER make a pledge that after they escaped with their lives they would send the books back by mail! I hope I'm not ruining the movie for you when I tell you that I have very little faith those books were ever returned.

I'm 15 and have watched almost every horror movie I can think of since I was little but there was just one thing I couldn't bare to watch without crawling out of my mothers arms and screaming! It was the purple dancing star, the logo of the Comedy Channel on Foxtel (formally known as Austar). I don't know what it is about it but it just makes me cringe! The ad always came on before my parents favourite show "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" so they would have to wait 2 minutes for the show to start and then watch it. I wish I knew what it was that scared me so much!

From Leticia

UNK SEZ: Thanks for this truly stellar traumafession Leticia! Don't feel strange about getting the willies from a mere logo, we'e gotten traumafessions concerning those before! You've also reminded me of the brilliant short THE S FROM HELL! Have fun relating to that film below!

Hi, Psychonator here with a traumafession inspired by the traumafession posted by Dr. Future about a Sesame Street milk related horror. I'm just a little too old for the Sesame Street traumas, since I was eleven in 1970, but there is a lactose related trauma I'd like to share.

When I was a small-fry (probably around seven) I used to watch a show sponsored by "Twin Pines Milk," who's spokesperson was a realllly creepy clown known as "Milky." He hosted a show broadcast from Detroit called "Milky's Movie Party."

This clip is from a much earlier version of Milky. This guy passed away and the creepy-baton was passed onto an even creepier incantation.

Here's the way I remember him. Kinda' John Wayne Gacy, doncha' think?

Now, if you think I've wasted your time with this account (what's so creepy about a clown, right?) well…

At the tender age of seven, I missed my bus home and had a twelve block walk home in snow that came up to my crotch, so freshly fallen that none of the sidewalks had been cleared. I struggled the first few blocks in tears. Lo and behold, who should come along than a Twin Pines Milk delivery truck, emblazoned with Milky the Clown's visage. The driver slowed, following my stumbling progress: an innocent, vulnerable seven year old child. He asked if I wanted a ride. Well, even with all my parent's lecturing of NEVER excepting a ride from a stranger, I willingly took up the offer. I began rethinking my decision once we were on our way. I made it home without incident and the driver gave me an autographed copy of Milky, which I quickly destroyed once inside my house. I knew better than to ever breath a word of this lapse in judgement to my parents!

I entered the first grade in 1970, which meant that my class was one of the first to enter an era of modern "experimentation" on our young minds, as guinea pigs of the newly minted "education technocrats" trained in the 1960s. This was the beginning of "new math" and "set theory", and new ways of learning; gone was "Dick and Jane", and even the old schoolhouse. I entered a new school with "mod" lowercase lettering on the doors, "open" floor plans, mentally soothing environments and new textbooks and ways of learning.

It was also the beginning of the era of "Sesame Street" – the biggest national mass-education "psy op" ever devised (Papa Joe Stalin would have been proud). I and my peers took the maiden voyage on that ship. Gone was Howdy Doody and learning to say your prayers and listen to Mom and Dad; it was replaced by multi-cultural harmony, saying "nope to dope", and an urban consciousness. Much of it was fun, like the guy that would bring in 27 cream pies and fall down the steps, or the "manamana" song. However, there were dark elements as well – and I don't mean just the Grouch and the Count, when Mr. Hooper died, or the frustration of Mr. Snuffelupogas disappearances. Elements of it were haunting, to me at least, right up to today.

I have always had this dim memory in the cobwebs of my mind of a Sesame Street film, in their tender folksy style, about cows, with the recurring refrain, "Hey cow…I see you now" (I know that sounds weird to hold on to). The memory itself creeped me out, in its schmaltzy, saccharine way like when you meet a burned out hippie who is just a little TOO MUCH in touch with his feelings. Inspired by Kindertrauma and my peers here, I recently commenced to searching for this enigmatic piece of celluloid on my local Youtube, and voila! There it was all along, in all its creepy, washed-out ‘70s glory…

As I relived it, watching it again for the first time in 44 or so years, I was immediately transported back to my favorite purple jeans with hippie flowers, polo shirt and Donald Duck cup (or a Great Shakes cup full of Nestle's Quik), watching the black and white Heathkit portable TV that Dad built, curled up in a chair in the kitchen. And yes – it was just as creepy as it ever was. Beyond the grainy, porn-like video quality and watching grown men grab the extremities of large animals, most importantly it was accompanied by the most unnerving folk/soft rock love ballad, directed lovingly to a cow – a style perfect for bestial love-making, with the haunting refrain of "Hey cow…I see you now" as he gently strokes the acoustic guitar strings.

The composer, Joe Raposo, was evidently famous for composing the Sesame Street theme and a host of other theme songs for iconic ‘70s TV shows, but if it were me, I would have immediately put his name on a neighborhood watch list. The pinnacle of the video, if you choose to indulge, is around 3:52 into the voyeuristic film where a man grabs the swollen nipple/udder of a cow, and SQUIRTS IT HORIZONTALLY FOR A NUMBER OF FEET, UNTIL IT FLOWS DIRECTLY INTO THE OPEN MOUTH OF A SMALL CHILD! I felt dirty after watching it and felt a need to report it to somebody, but if you watch it, you will know what I mean – it was the reason cinematic censorship was justified. I will never be the same, having seen it again. We see in the film that this "Hellfire Club" of barnyard sin and debauchery is brought directly and innocently into each of our very homes, with every carton of milk we bring home. I don't know if I can even use those little creamer cups for gas station coffee anymore.

Well, having conquered my fears and confronted them directly, like identifying a body in the morgue, I will try to move on in life, although I am afraid the haunting melody is only etched ever deeper. At least now I know it is real and not my imagination, and as G.I. Joe says, "Now we know what's wrong, and that's half of solving the problem". I know that's why this shared quest is why destiny brought us all here together at Kindertrauma.

Hi gang! Here to share another traumafession with you.

I think I was ten when it happened and I was at that stage where I thought I was old enough to watch whatever my older brother was watching (he's three years older than me). Anyway, he was watching Terminator 2: Judgment Day and I decided to watch it with him. He didn't stop me, in fact he didn't mind me watching it with him at all. The movie seem to be going all right till the scene where to boy is with the terminator and the boy is talking to his mother on a pay phone. The boy seems a bit suspicious of her so the terminator talks to her cleverly disguising his voice. A few minutes later, he hangs up the phone and said "that's liquid man" Then the next scene… She stabbed a man thought the head with her arm!!! She retracts her arm and morphs back to his normal self. Eep. Even though that terrified me, I continued watching the film but as soon as the liquid silently sneaks up behind a policeman and stabs him in the mouth with his knife like arm, I had enough. Out the room I went!

It affected me quite badly though as I would be in bed at night having trouble going to sleep as I was worried that the liquid man would come into my room and stab me!

Not only that, but a documentary showed that scene with the policeman later that year. Knowing what was going to happen I may a mercy dash out of the room. I think It took me a year to get over being frightened of him

Thank a lot, liquid man! You creep!

Hey there, Kindertrauma! I found your site by pure chance, having heard someone mention it in the comments on Youtube. I'm really glad that I did, and I'm still browsing through the pages. I saw that you let readers submit their stories of things that scared them as a child, and I just had to share my own. I know that these movies come a bit late in time compared to others on the site. I'm a 90s kid, you see. That doesn't make them any less traumatizing, though.

My first trauma was from Twister. As a kid, I was fascinated by tornadoes, and I still am to this day. Knowing this, my parents decided to pop in Twister, and we decided to watch it as a family at dinner. I was so excited! Well, that excitement didn't last too long… As you all probably know, the movie opens with a flashback of Jo Harding, one where her and her parents have to take shelter from an oncoming tornado. Well, the door to the storm shelter starts to come off, and the father tries to keep it from doing so, getting sucked up into the tornado in the process. Cut next to Jo screaming for her daddy. I began to cry and cry, distraught by the idea of losing my own father in such a way. My parents cut off the movie, and I subsequently ran to my dad, sobbing and holding him tight. Eventually, I decided to go through with watching the movie, but we fast-forwarded past that part. Being the kind of kid that I was, having no real friends whatsoever, my family doubled as my friends, and I wouldn't trade them for the world. You can see why a scene like this would affect me to such an extent, which brings me to my next trauma, Dante's Peak.

The trauma comes in at the scene where the family must escape from the grandmother's house, which was now being destroyed by lava. There was a lake nearby, and they were going to try and get away by boat, but the lava starts to leak into the lake. The lake became acidic, dead fish everywhere, the acid now eating at the bottom at the boat. The motor died, and the boat stalled, so the grandmother got out of the boat and into the lake so that she could push it to shore. Her legs were burnt to a crisp, and she later died. After that scene, I had to call my grandma. When I did, I was absolutely blubbering, asking if she was dead. She assured me many times throughout that call that she was alright, and that she loved me. I was satisfied, but I was still crying after the call was over.