ghost whisperer
Nephew Kole And The Christmas Orbs Of 2012
Christmas of 2012 I took many pictures that I never really looked at afterwards while downloading them to my computer. I should have known better, because while I was taking these pictures I kept smelling tobacco smoke that reminded me of my grandfather. I later found evidence in those images that someone special was indeed around us that day.
My nephew Kole had asked me about “Great Paw-Paw”. He wanted to know what became of him? I said he was in Heaven, but Kole disagreed. “No, he is not… he is standing right next to you.” Kole was pointing to an area next to the pool table.
I asked Kole how long grandpa had been around. “I talk to him a lot… almost every day,” he said. Later, when we sat down to eat dinner, Kole asked me to get an extra chair, because “Paw-paw” needed a place to sit too. Continue reading
A Homecoming To Ghosts Of The Past
After my mother passed away, my father re-married and moved away. Soon after I received a call from the people who bought the old house from my dad. They told me that they got my number from the neighbors and they wondered if I could help them with the otherworldly activity that was going on in that house. They had heard that I used to experience the paranormal presence there too. They did not know who else to turn to.
I agreed to come and see them, and when I finally pulled up in the driveway all the feelings from the past, of all the hauntings that I had experienced there, hit me quite hard. I knew once I walked in that door it was still going to feel the same. Continue reading
For The Love Of William
Some time ago a friend asked me to come to her parents’ house, because they felt their home in Kirkersville, Ohio, may be haunted. The property and area has a rich history going back to the early settlers, and it even served as a battlefield during the Civil War. I have been to this house before to investigate a possible haunting, but this time around there was a different type of energy present. She was female, and she was in distress.
Every time I do a ghost hunt in a house, I talk to the occupants first to see what was possibly going on and how long they have been experiencing the disturbances. It appeared in this case that the trouble started when they broke ground for a new house they were planning to build. Continue reading
My Dad’s Missing Slipper
After my father passed, my wife said that she could hear me talking to my dad in my sleep, both as an adult and as a child. I didn’t remember talking to my dad. Apparently I would talk about my dog when I was growing up, and I would carry on a conversation with him for a long time, as if he was standing right next to me. She said I also mentioned a teacher, Mrs. Whooton, my fifth grade teacher. In time the dreams with my dad stopped, because my wife says she no longer hears me talk to my father anymore.
My sister had asked me if I wanted any of his stuff. I already received a lot from him growing up and before his passing, so I could not really think of anything. But I remembered a pair of very nice slippers my wife and I had bought him for Christmas, shortly before he passed away. Continue reading
Helping A Young Psychic Develop
A young person with a psychic gift must be recognized early on, and nurtured in their development. If not, they may experience a lot of confusion and even trauma. Their gift must be seen and experienced as a blessing, not a curse.
My niece Rachel was one of the more fortunate. She clearly had a gift from a very tender age. When she was a little girl I would give my brother and sister in-law some time off by babysitting Rachel and her older sister. Every time I would go over to their house to watch the kids, Rachel didn’t want me to read her normal children books. She would grab the family photo album and look specifically at old pictures of deceased family members. She would look at these photos with much interest and talk to the people in them as if they were sitting right in front of her. Continue reading
The Disappointed Jesus In London
To be fair, I did not visit to the city of London solely for esoteric purposes, but I found the energy signature quite different and stark there, compared to Athens and Berlin.
I found the atmosphere in Berlin, for example, electric, yet peaceful. Stepping off the U-Bahn at Wittenberg Platz in the middle of the high season, I was engulfed by a comforting low-level hum of German families and tourists doing their Saturday afternoon window shopping. The people here did not seem to have a care in the world. The streets were crowded , much like that of London, but not once did I feel a sense of angst or claustrophobia. The warm buzz was actually quite welcoming and pleasant… and this is major coming from a highly strung empath like myself.
Berlin woke me up on a Sunday morning with the nostalgic chiming of church bells. I was staying inside one of the surviving wings of the Neues Schauspielhaus on Nollendorf Platz, in the Schöneberg district of Berlin. It was built in 1905 as a theatre and concert hall, in the then fashionable Art Nouveau style. Maybe Bertold Brecht was there in the 1920s, discussing his plays with someone in the very room I slept in that night, or maybe the bands Depeche Mode or The Human League used it as a dressing room in the 1980s. While those bells were ringing in the distance, I almost expected Christopher Isherwood’s character Sally Bowles to sneak down the corridor of this old building, back from a busy, decadent night’s work at the Kit Kat Club cabaret. Continue reading
The Haunted Typewriter
When I was growing up my mother had a typewriter that had been in the family for a long time. I never knew much about its history.
One day I was invited to a family reunion at my aunt and uncle’s house. After my mother had passed away I never had much contact with them. We sat around and talked about my mother being a psychic and how she experienced many paranormal stuff as a child. My aunt took out a family photo album she had shown me before and in one of the pictures there was a picture of an old, black typewriter. She told me that it was a 1920’s Royal typewriter and that my grandfather received it as payment for working on someone house. The homeowners didn’t have the money to pay him for his services. Continue reading