Truth is stranger than fiction...

THAT can’t be true, can it?

Ever read a story but you are forced to read that sentence again? That sudden twist that changes everything.

You see, people love surprises - and in the newspaper biz, the raised eyebrow is the next best thing to a standing ovation.

When it comes to news, weird is wonderful.

There is a hoary old aphorism among editors which states that when a dog bites a man, no-one cares. But when a man bites a dog... then you have a story.

Publicity hounds beware, though - it’s not to be taken too literally.

Instead, it’s a call to sniff out stories off the beaten track, to wrong foot readers by uncovering stories that go to unexpected places.

And there have been no shortage of them in this very parish down the years!

Take this ‘tail’ from 1977, for instance. Picture the scene - a ferocious gang was terrorising the mean streets of Greystone.

There was a tangible sense of fear among locals and children were kept safely indoors. Not that they would want to go out anyway - not while they were still out there.

Police patrols were increased and in desperation, an army marksman was even called in.

So who were the ringleaders? And what did they want?

Well, they had a lot of hair and were understood to be rather partial to a bone...

Yes, the estate was at the mercy of a pack of ‘about 20’ dogs. They were big beasts too - and they were out of control.

People were getting routinely bitten and pets mauled.

Something clearly had to be done. James Keenan, from the USPCA, was on the case and together with members of the RUC he tracked the pack ‘for several says’ - picking off members one by one.

“Dogs have had far too much freedom along the line,” he said.

“The only effective way of stopping the current situation from getting worse is to keep these dogs under proper control.”

The community was, he said, being ‘held to ransom’.

“Until such a time as owners are prepared to accept the need to exercise proper control over their animals we will never solve the problem. Cope with the human aspect and the animal problem will solve itself as a matter of course.”

Very true, but what if the animal in question had no intention of being controlled?

Rewind to downtown Antrim in the dying days of 1885 and the locals gathered for a fair, to buy and sell livestock.

Sheep, goats, horses and much else besides had converged on High Street. They were due to be joined by another prize specimen, a large bull - and he was not a happy camper.

As it was being led down Fountain Street, the bull decided to put his foot down - on the unfortunate farm hand who was leading him.

As shocked locals looked on, the infuriated animal pawed at the helpless man with his horns and forelegs.

Realising that he was in ‘imminent peril’ members of the crowd rushed the bull, securing him once more.

His victim was dragged to safety. Mercifully his injuries were not serious.

But the bull was not finished yet. Determined that he was not going under the hammer that day, it ‘roared, plunged and fell several times in the street’.

He ultimately broke away from all control and ‘turned homewards at a rapid rate’.

A bad day for the farmer, but the hasty departure was ‘evidently to the satisfaction of the fair people and inhabitants of the locality’.

Occasionally, however, an aggressive animal can become a true four-legged friend.

William Twyford and George Long, of Barnett’s Inn, a roadside pub near Templepatrick, had been robbed before - so they decided to enlist the services of a feisty female called Sheila.

And in May 1972 she really earned her keep.

That evening two men brandishing guns came into the bar to relieve the 12 customers and the owners of their hard-earned cash.

They ordered George to lie on the floor and when he refused there was a struggle, during which the owner shouted ‘dial 999’. The gunmen responded by pulling the phone from the wall - but it created the distraction that allowed George to introduce them to Sheila.

And this two-year-old was a very large dog with a ferocious bark - and a bite to match.

“George seized his chance to open the door to let Sheila out. As soon as the robbers saw Sheila the ran and drove off.

“I feed her on raw steak. It costs a fortune, but it’s worth it!”

In 1992 a ‘bouncer’ of a very different kind was keeping a close eye on the Skeffington bar in Antrim.

Publican Denis ‘Dino’ Martin was already known as a bit of a local character - after all, he had stood for the Monster Raving Looney Party.

And it was he who sought the services of Sidney, who happened to be an eight foot long python - who was therefore more than qualified to deal with ‘legless’ patrons!

After being fined £200 for having customers on the premises outside licensing hours, Denis decided that his fork-tongued friend would help him shut up shop promptly in future.

“He’s very cuddly and the women love to touch him, “said Dino. “He’s even boosted trade because so many people have come into the pub to have a look.”

But some animal ‘tails’ are much darker, but equally odd.

In the autumn of 2005 farmers were urged to be on the alert after a sheep was found mutilated in the Antrim countryside.

The unfortunate animal had been skinned and the legs were severed before being put on ‘display’ in a field at Barnish Road in Randalstown.

“The body of the sheep had been laid out in the corner of the field in such a way that it could only have been done by a human,” said a police spokesman.

“We don’t know if it was satanic or it was done by somebody to try to make it look as if it was some kind of ritual but it was certainly bizarre and we are treating this incident as suspicious.”

It was not the first time the local constabulary had been called upon to investigate a mysterious ‘crime’.

In June 2001 60 trees had been ‘hacked’ in the castle grounds, much to the consternation of the council, who had forked out £1,000 for each of the specimens.

Detectives initially believed that people armed with machetes may have been responsible, but it soon emerged that they were barking up the wrong tree,

The vandals were, in fact, grey squirrels who had descended on the park.

“It is one of the more bizarre cases in recent years,” admitted Chief Inspector Peter Tweed.

But the crime did not go unpunished. Civic leaders enlisted the services of a sharp-shooter who picked off many of the culprits before they could high tail it away.

Ulster Unionist MLA Duncan Shipley Dalton was not amused, however. He suggested that the invaders could be humanely trapped and their teeth filed down to minimise the damage - even though that would render them unable to eat...

Mistaken identity was also at the centre of another curious case back in 1949.

The people of Muckamore were living in fear of a ‘monster’ that had been spotted in the Clady river at the Seven Mile Straight.

Word of the ‘strange creature’ soon spread and ex-serviceman Walter Rollins, a keen shooter, decided to investigate.

And on a June night he spotted it - and gave it both barrels.

And it emerged that the monster was actually a ‘fine dog otter’ feeding on the trout that congregated in the Clady at the time. It was said that it as the first time the waterway had ‘yielded a prize of this description’.

During his big game hunt Mr Rollins also ‘accounted for 22 foxes and two badgers’- to the horror of animal lovers and joy of the suddenly very busy band of taxidermists.

In 1910 the arrest of Dr Crippen, who was later hanged for the murder of his wife, may have been stealing many of the headlines - but in August of that year another strange but true tale unfolded in Antrim.

A businessman made the most of the fine weather to go for a drive when he chanced upon a most unusual sight - a disabled aeroplane lying by the roadside.

Stranger still, a lady aviator was busily affecting repairs. The onlooker was struck at ‘the deftness of the lady, who displayed a thorough and expert knowledge of the air craft and its various parts’.

Minutes later a horse and cart arrived on the scene and the plane was hauled on into Antrim.

The motorist never discovered the identity of the pilot. It was, said a contemporary report, a ‘strange story’.

Perplexing indeed, but 116 years on we can make an educated guess!

Lilian Bland made history that year when she became one of the first women in Great Britain and Ireland, and perhaps the world, to design, build and fly an aircraft.

The ‘Mayfly’ was first tested by gliding it from Carnmoney Hill. Excited by the results, she added an engine - and it had its maiden flight in Randalstown during the summer of 1910.

Lilian died in 1971 at the grand old age of 92. The Ulster History Society has since erected a blue plaque at the family home in Carnmoney and a park in Glengormley was renamed Lilian Bland Community Park - complete with a stainless steel sculpture of the Mayfly - in August 2011.

Zara Rutherford, the youngest woman to fly solo around the world at the age of 19 back in 2022, credited Lilian as one of her sources of inspiration. Quite right too.

But some mysteries can not be so easily solved.

Back in 1997 locals were surprised by the appearance of a rather unusual display erected at a derelict shop on Station Road in Antrim.

Eighty-one gingerbread men had been ‘impaled’ on a window at the former Wood’s shop in nine neat rows.

On a separate windowsill people unknown had arranged a row of pink and white marshmallows, while green apples adorned another.

A piece of innocent fun? Perhaps - though one theory was that ‘some sort of cult’ had established in the town.

Billy Crook, who worked in the Spar across the road, said it was ‘very bizarre’.

“The gingerbread men looked as if they had just been baked,” he said.

“And they were all measured out, for there were nine rows of nine and the nailed were all nine centimetres apart.

“It was really weird.”

It certainly got tongues a-wagging three decades ago. Food for thought, you could say.