Six Missing: The Ghostly Encounter That Inspired My Name
Some moments never leave you. They linger in the back of your mind, shifting and reshaping over time, but always present. My ghostly encounter was one of those moments, and it ultimately led to the name Six Missing—a name that now defines my music, my sound, and the unseen layers of existence I explore through ambient composition.
A Haunted Recording Session
Years ago, my band and I traveled to West Chester, Pennsylvania, to record an album at a studio near the Brandywine Battlefield, a site steeped in Revolutionary War history. The property had an eerie stillness to it, an almost unsettling quiet that seemed to hum beneath the surface.
We stayed in a small cottage on the grounds, separate from the main studio. Late one night, after a long session, I realized I had left something behind in the control room. I made the short walk alone, stepping into the darkened space, where the only sounds were the occasional creaks of an old building settling into the night.
As I retrieved my gear and turned to leave, a sudden, overwhelming sensation crept over me—an unshakable feeling that I was being watched. The air felt thick, pressing against my skin like static before a storm. I hurried back to the cottage, convincing myself it was just my imagination. But what happened next made me question everything.
A Presence in the Night
I climbed into my bunk, trying to shake the unease, when the silence was broken by the slow creak of the screen door opening. My body froze. I strained to listen, waiting for the sound of footsteps—someone from the band, maybe—but there was nothing. Just an emptiness stretching through the dark.
Then, without warning, a piercing, ice-cold sensation shot through the center of my back. It was as if something—someone—had pressed into me, sending a wave of despair and weightlessness through my entire body. I tried to move, to turn, but I was completely paralyzed. A deep, sinking feeling overtook me, a sensation I can only describe as slipping into the void.
I don’t know how long it lasted, but at some point, I remembered something I had seen on a ghost hunting show—speak with authority, take control. Summoning every ounce of strength, I forced out the words: LEAVE ME ALONE.
The moment I spoke, the weight lifted. My breath came back in a rush, my limbs unlocked, and the air in the room shifted. Then, just as clearly as before, I heard the screen door creak open again—and then softly close.
The Missing Six
The next morning, I hesitantly brought it up to the rest of the band, expecting them to laugh it off. But one of them turned pale. He had woken up in the night and heard the door open too, thinking it was one of us stepping outside.
Later, curiosity got the best of me, and I started researching the area. That’s when I came across the historical records—six soldiers from the Battle of Brandywine were documented as missing. Their bodies were never found, their stories lost to time.
I couldn’t shake the connection. Whether what I experienced was tied to them or not, it felt like more than a coincidence. The idea of something unseen but present—of spirits lingering just beyond perception—stayed with me. It resonated deeply with how I think about sound, about atmosphere, about the spaces between notes where emotion truly lives.
The Sound of the Unseen
When I started releasing music under the name Six Missing, it wasn’t just a nod to that night. It was about everything the experience represented: the unseen, the unknown, the way sound and memory intertwine. My ambient compositions aim to capture that—textures that feel both present and distant, melodies that drift like echoes through time.
There’s something powerful about what exists just beyond our reach. Whether in history, in memory, or in sound, the missing pieces often tell the most compelling stories.
That’s what Six Missing is about—creating music that lingers in the in-between, that resonates in the quiet spaces, and that, maybe, just maybe, touches something beyond what we can see.
A Soundtrack to the Unexplained
If you’ve ever felt something inexplicable—an eerie presence, an unshakable familiarity with a place you’ve never been—then you understand the feeling I chase in my music. My compositions are not just about melody or harmony; they are about atmosphere, memory, and the spaces in between.
I want my music to be a soundtrack for those moments when reality feels just a little thinner, when time slows, and the unseen world brushes against our own. Whether you listen for meditation, for deep focus, or simply to lose yourself in sound, know that you are stepping into that same ethereal space—where stories linger, where echoes fade, and where the missing are never truly gone.
Until next time, Your fellow human just being.
Six Missing