For the Phoenix Police Department, 918 is the radio code used for responding to someone who is experiencing a mental health issue.

 

Over time, I realized that the same label gets applied—informally and unfairly—to people who report unusual experiences. If you say you saw a UFO, experienced something paranormal, or witnessed something that doesn’t fit a clean explanation, society is quick to dismiss you as a “918.” Crazy. Unreliable. Someone to laugh off. But seeing something strange doesn’t make you strange. It means you observed something you can’t explain and choosing to talk about it doesn’t make you weak or delusional. It makes you honest.

 

The 918 Files were created to challenge that stigma. This platform exists to remind people that just because something is unusual doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. You’re not weird for reporting it. You’re not broken for questioning it. The real problem isn’t people speaking up but instead, it’s a culture that discourages reporting by ridiculing uncertainty. The 918 Files are about creating the mentality that people can be open, direct and comfortable saying, “This is what I experienced.”

 

At the same time, I wanted the 918 Files to be professional. There’s a lot of noise, exaggeration and outright nonsense in the investigative world surrounding unexplained phenomena. This platform takes a grounded approach by documenting experiences, examining patterns and encouraging responsible reporting. The fiction side of the 918 Files allows for storytelling, history and imagination, while the nonfiction work focuses on analysis, investigation and real-world context. Together, they serve the same purpose: separating curiosity from chaos and giving the unexplained a place to exist without ridicule.

 

The 918 Files aren’t about proving anything. They’re about documenting what people are too often afraid to talk about.

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Dedicated to those "thought" to be crazy.

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Jason Cvancara, Author, The 918 Files