Archive for the ‘Wes Cotten is missing’ Category

Coop here,

This document written by Wes is dated June 2, 2009.  That’s pretty close to the time when everyone he knew lost touch with him.  I’m posting this now even though I feel it’s out of context with what I’ve posted so far.  Even though this is out of order, I think it explains a bit of Wes’s state of mind and definitely raises more questions in regards to the information I’ve come across so far.  Here’s Wes in his own words…

It might sound like I’m losing it but things don’t feel the same anymore.  I go further and further into this investigation and the whole thing is making me paranoid.  I think people are following me.  When Sarah is away I can hear someone moving around inside the house, but no one is there.  I see shadows lurking nearby from the corner of my eyes.  I hear three knocks on the door when I can’t see anyone out the window.  Sounds bad, right?  It is worse.

Sarah is acting strange around me.  Sometimes she stares off into space like she’s not even here, then when I get her attention she looks at me with hollow eyes.  I know something is very wrong.  I’ve looked around the house and everything seems perfect.  Last week I took a leveler and tape measure and checked the placement of every picture on the walls, items on shelves every piece of furniture in the house…  Everything from the bed, to the rugs on the floor, to the books on the shelves, to the cereal boxes in the pantry were placed at precise angles with exact measurements and every bit of it was perfectly symmetrical.  That should not be possible but it was.  Sarah caught me doing this and seemed very upset.  She asked me why I had to do it but I could not explain it to her.  I could not express my suspicions without ruining everything.  After all, it was her house.

The next day I got up early and went out to do some research.  I came back to the house a few hours later and noticed that something was wrong.  Everything in the house looked slightly askew.  I got out the leveler and tape measure again and checked it all.  Every item in the house had been tilted, shifted or moved by either exactly 10 degrees or 10 centimeters.  Although the house now looked slightly more messy, it actually was not.  Everything had been moved with exact precision and perfection.  Then I heard crying from the bathroom.

It was Sarah.  She was sobbing inconsolably and she wouldn’t tell me why. 

Everything they said about the Kquathada is true.  I have followed all the clues and I believe I have already crossed paths with 5 of the 6.  I’m sure the 6th will find me whether I want it to or not.  I have seen “Profundo”.  I have their attention.  It’s a matter of time.  Very soon I will know where to go.  There I will find what is waiting for me. 

Coop again,

As you can see this is very alarming.  Looks like Wes’s mental state was slipping before he vanished.  He was never into drugs and I never once knew him to be unstable in any way, but considering the way he was acting, I can’t blame Sarah for getting upset with him. 

The reference “Profundo” shows up in his notes multiple times and according to the notes it’s a film.  I can’t find any references to this film (just the one word title by itself) on the Internet Movie Database or anywhere on the internet.  The word itself means “deep” in Spanish with the Italian variation spelled “profondo”.  Even if it’s a short film or an obscure one, it shouldn’t be too hard for me to find.

“Kquathada” is a word that also comes up occasionally in the notes, but it also appears in Wes’s interview with the homeless boy Chris.  The kid said that the “Qwatha” (sic) is “bad mojo” and now we know that there are six.  These details definitely warrant looking into.



Coop here again,

Pardon me for getting personal here, but I’ve had a few emails from site visitors asking how I know Wes Cotten.  Not sure if these guys are friends or family but I encourage them to contact me again if they are (  As for my relationship with Wes, that’s a valid request since I’m running his site now. 

Here’s how I know Wes…

This was back when I was living in Los Angeles around September 11, 2001. After the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, things were looking pretty grim. Most of my business deals were being dropped like a hot potatoes and newspapers stopped printing my articles so they could focus on the national crisis. My old bar/hangout wasn’t the same anymore so to ease the misery, I started haunting some other venues. At a dive bar in the San Fernando Valley, I met Wes.

I was in the middle of my first Guinness when he barreled into the mostly empty bar and loudly announced that he was in North Hollywood and had just seen a UFO being chased by police helicopters. I instantly thought he was a nut but it made me laugh. He seemed disappointed that no one seemed interested in what he had witnessed, but I offered to buy him a beer to calm his nerves. After awhile of talking, I told him about the time I saw an octagon-shaped UFO fly over the Sunset Strip when I was at the Cat Club attending Guns N’ Roses guitarist Gilby Clarke’s birthday party. My only fellow witnesses: Two stoners sharing a joint (man, I wish that story WASN’T true because it’s embarrassing to tell it). He got a kick out of that and we made a decent night out of a strange one.

Soon I was meeting up with Wes on a regular basis at various spots around the Valley to grab a beer, trade stories and philosophize about what was becoming of the world we lived in. He cared little about politics but could easily win a debate. He hated pretense, but had no difficulty putting a literati in his/her place. He made hanging out fun again. So when he started talking about weird stuff, I enjoyed every minute of it.

A couple of years later, we had established a strong friendship (this was before all the craziness of “Myspace” and “Facebook”… something that he never bought into). We hung out regularly but never with eithers’ social circle. We were autonomous, independent and always ended up in strange locations, talking to the weirdest people due to our interests.

Eventually, Wes had to move due to monetary constraints, so he chose to go back to Memphis around 2005. He had a passion for helping underage and underprivileged youths, coming from a similar background himself.  He felt he could make a difference in his hometown.

When I returned to the mid-south myself, I had limited contact with him. An email here, a party invitation there… but we were hard pressed to reconnect.

Before his disappearance, I got an email from him:


Only you might dig this, but I’ve found something pretty cool up here. All that crazy shit we used to talk about isn’t as crazy as half of the stuff I’m finding now. I want you involved. Get in touch, man.


After a few missed opportunities we finally reconnected.  I went up to ElvisTown and met Wes and his brand new girlfriend, Sarah. Wow. What a knockout. Wes was a ladies’ man but I never saw him with a girl like Sarah. I can’t even begin to describe what a perfectly impossible woman she turned out to be, even on a first impression. No wonder Wes liked being back in Memphis so much.

Over the course of the night, Wes kept telling me about info and stories that he absolutely HAD to tell me about, but we never had the aside time to discuss it.  The night was young, Sarah was all over him and the drinks were flowing freely.  By the end of the night, he and I promised to get together soon and have a constructive pow-wow on the info he had in mind.

That’s the last I ever saw of Wes, or Sarah for that matter.  Almost a year ago.  

As for the material Wes left behind for me, he found a lot of interesting stuff… but it’s epic in volume.  It’ll take me a good while to sort it all in my free time.  It’s creepy, it’s neat and I’m going to post what I can from this hodgepodge of notes and interviews (?) he has amassed.  He’s got some videos too, I’ll get to those when I get a solid nerd to fix my comp so I can view them.  Apparently my system doesn’t respond well to this “Divx” crap.  I’ll definitely include the unsettling images and artwork he scanned into most of these posts.

I was worried at first about Wes disappearing, but not so much now.  He’s the kind of guy with an active passport, no ties, a taste for the weird and a sense of humor.  I’m going to dig through what he’s left for me and post it.  I’m positive that’s what he wants me to do, and if my browsing his crazy material is any indication, I’m SO down.

Stay tuned to The Man Behind the Door for updates.


Coop’s site: (

Wes’s interview with Chris (Part 2)

—Coop here again… I get the impression that Wes fully intended to post the rest of this interview, so I’m doing it for him. I’m merely breaking the surface of whatever research he was conducting and I gotta say he was right. “Spooky” doesn’t cover it. He’s got hundreds of documents and some CD-ROMs full of electronic files. It’s kinda like piecing together a big puzzle. I don’t know if it’ll help find his whereabouts but I’m going to try to figure it out best I can in my spare time. In the meantime, here’s the rest of the interview with Chris (along with a bit of accompanying artwork that Wes had collected… as blog illustrations maybe?)—


Part 1 of the interview HERE…


My questions about the “Boy in the Corner” seemed to unnerve Chris a bit, but questions about the “Man Behind the Door” nearly caused him to shut down completely…


WES: You ever see this Man Behind the Door?


CHRIS: Shit naw! You see HIM and you gone forever!


At this point, Chris became agitated and tried to leave even before I gave him the money I promised. I offered to give him a little more if he would stay and I changed the subject away from the Man Behind the Door. He seemed more open talking about the other people who may know about the subject…


WES: So who else knows about this kind of stuff?


CHRIS: Fools all around here know. From the ghetto… the bums, the bitches, the cops, even some rich folks.


WES: What rich folks? Like reporters? News people?


CHRIS: Naw like Germantown fools with gold watches and shit… and they from other rich places, know what I’m sayin? Like out of town. Sometimes bangers say white folks come walkin up into the hood like they ain’t scared askin about the Boy. Them bangers beat those suckers down, rob em and they keep comin back. One gangster, “T-Blow”, killed a white bitch for walkin into his hood askin about it. He messed her up. Got her nekkid and had his crew run a train on her and she died.


WES: Where is T-Blow now?


CHRIS: Dead. His momma found him. Killed hisself with a shotgun in his face, even after cops cut him loose cause they couldn’t find no (the woman’s) body. His crew don’t bother no rich folks that goes to the hood asking shit no more. They said they just ain’t gonna talk to em.


WES: Who else could I talk to that knows about this stuff?


CHRIS: Rodney. He’s the bum that smells like shit down around that house on Poplar I was sleepin in.


WES: The house you saw the Boy in?


CHRIS: Yeah. Rodney talked to him. He says the Boy is smart like he knows everything in the whole world, but Rodney’s crazy. Rodney likes to put shit on things. Like he puts doo-doo on walls and shit. Ain’t knowbody knows everything. He’s a crazy, nasty-ass bum.


At this point, Chris described what Rodney looked like and where I might be able to find him. I made a note to try to locate and interview Rodney.


WES: How about cops? Any cops I can talk to?


CHRIS: Man, I don’t be talkin to no cops. For real. Those motherf**kers always harassin me, frontin… (various additional profanities)


WES: Alright then how about just regular folks?


CHRIS: Martha. She ain’t scared of no bangers, cops or nothin. I stayed with her till she try makin me go to church. Always preachin Jesus around the hood. She real mean but she knows. She tell me she put me in the corner with that Boy if I got bad.


I learned from Chris that Martha a neighborhood lady in her 50’s that would take in hard-luck cases from the street and try to reform them through tough love and preaching. No one stayed with Martha for long for this reason. I figured she’d be easier to find that Rodney so I decided to interview her next. I could tell my questions had worn out their welcome and Chris about was ready to cut loose.


WES: Anything else I need to know about the Boy, the Man or the Qwatha?


CHRIS: Nuh uh.


WES: You sure?


CHRIS: (hesitates)… You already know.


Chris would not elaborate on this remark and quickly took his money in a hasty departure. Afterwards I went over to see Sarah (my girlfriend). She doesn’t get this whole project and says I should drop it, but I find this stuff really intriguing. She might gripe about it about a bit but this might make a good story for a magazine or a book. I’m going to keep with it starting with this Martha woman. More updates soon!




Part 1 of the interview HERE…



Coop Cooper here from The Small Town Critic website.

I now have access to Wes’s blog that he created over a year ago and suddenly stopped using. The reason being that Wes Cotten has been missing since at least June of 2009. The Memphis Police Department has released some of Wes’s personal effects to me since they are having trouble locating surviving relatives and some of the documents investigated by the police list me as an emergency contact.  Unfortunately, I haven’t seen Wes myself in well over a year.

Apparently the police only recently started investigating Wes’s disappearance due to the fact that no one came forth to declare him missing. His elderly landlady,  folks at his volunteer job and friends at his paid job thought he had simply left town or eloped with his girlfriend, Sarah Reynolds… who is also missing.

This is a long shot, but if anyone knows any information, please contact me through Wes’s old email address:

Although the police couldn’t make much sense of it, I will be going through Wes’s things to see if there is anything that can help locate him. If I find anything of interest (for any friends out there who may be worried about him), I will post it here.

Let’s pray that Wes and Sarah are on an island beach somewhere starting a new life and having a blast.