Paranormal Experiences

Nick, what an interesting thread. Thank you's to Letty for directing me here.

I've never had complex paranormal experiences, only momentary flashes which turned out to be real. One was knowing the instant my father died. I was a senior in high school, playing in the school orchestra, when I felt his spirit. I immediately called my mother and asked if he had died. She was totally spooked by the question and said, "Yes, how did you know?" I replied that is was a gentle, passing feeling, both physical and emotional, just an absolute knowing that he had passed.

Oddly, I hated him and, in some ways, was looking forward to his death. Years later, when I was able to get beyond the hate, I wondered if his presence at that time was his way of asking for forgiveness.

Once, when my aunt was giving me a tour through San Francisco, we drove past a lovely little park. I had the distinct feeling that I would live there one day. In 1965 I moved to the Haight/Ashbury district, (famous in the hippie 60's), across the street from the park. When I had lived there for a few days, I realized that I had been there before.

One thing I've realized after writing down these experiences, is that they both involved times in my life that were happy but tinged with an overwhelming sadness.

I don't discount paranormal experiences. Just look at string theory and the possiblities it opens up. But I am enough of a skeptic to wonder if there might be a large element of coincidence or wishful thinking to some of the reported experiences--not necessarily those on this thread but those that have been reported in some of the literature. Whatever the truth is, I would never deny the possibility of ESP.

I have no doubts in ESP Diane. I think all people possess it to a greater or lesser degree. Perhaps it can be defined more as empathy. In any case, I have noticed so many people who have had unexplained experiences that we begin to realize there's more to life than that which can be percieved through our five senses. I think we tend to doubt things we have not experienced firsthand or we seek another more "rational" explanation.

Great, Diane. I felt that same situation with Bud's urn. I had hoped that Eva would relate her picture experience. I'll e-mail her later.

Just got an e-mail from my sister about the history of the so-called "ghost". According to her, it is the spirit of a young girl who died in that room prior to the Civil War. Several people from the University of Va. have slept there and had strange experiences, but I won't go into detail. suffice it to say it was NOT just my two wee kids. Believe it or not, one of the attestors was a PhD and was a Scott via England and came to America to teach in the dept. of Anthropology, so, I guess he wasn't totally amiss.

Letty, as you know, I love stories like that. When I lived in Guilford, CT., I sold real estate. Many of the houses in the area are at least a couple of hundred years old. Most people can feel the life in them--generations of lives filled with love and tragedy, hate and redemption. Much of the history can be certified. The old houses are filled with life, even those that hadn't been lived in for years. New houses are always blank, lacking in character.

An example of how universal belief in ghosts is, we would have to disclose to potential customers if a house was said to be haunted. It was listed right along with cracks in the basement walls or insufficient water pressure.

Nick, I don't think a little healthy skecpticism hurts in most any situation. So often, people want very badly to believe in something supernatural and they let themselves be drawn in by the unprovable rather than face up to unpleasant facts, or to the fact that they are responsible for their actions rather than some wispy spirit. Also, as in any spiritual situation, there are predators who have the ability to smell someone who wants to believe, just like a shark can smell blood. I think the New Age movement is a good example of something that started off with good intentions and knowledgable people and later turned into big business. The supernatural is such a wonderful escape. No wonder it sells so well.

I don't deny the existence of the paranormal, I just hate to see good people harmed financially and even worse, emotionally, by snake oil salesmen. No matter the time or the sophistication of the scam, they have always been there to relieve people of their money as well as their dignity. 'twas ever thus.

I agree Diane. There are more charlatans and frauds out there than "real" psychics. A "true" psychic does not do 900 numbers nor have a run down shack she reads fortunes from. However, stories like the one I started this thread with and the many other stories outlined here DO happen sometimes. And it is beyond our own day to day reality to explain such things.

I've had some strange experiences in my life, dejavue, dreams come true, feelings of having been there, done that, thinking about my mother or vs-versa and the phone ring, knowing whats in the mail before I get it...... the most recent was a daydream that I had that come true.

While riding down the highway with my family, for some reason, I soppose boredom, I started thinking about my step-dad, I could see him working on a dark colored chevy pickup, could see the clothing that he had on, and exactly what he was doing. I saw him bend over, and seen the look of pain on his face and he brought his arm up and held it like it was hurting. And as usual, he took a seat and waited for the pain to subside before going back to work.

When I got home, I called my mother and asked her where daddy was? I told her about the strange daydream about him, and I wanted to know if he was alright? She laughed and told me..."As far as I know he is, but you know how he acts when he's hurt, he doesn't tell anyone." I told her.."Well, just watch him, something wrong with left arm."

Two days later she called me and told me, "I thought I needed to tell you this. Your daddy come in the house today and asked me to drive him to the doctor, he's in terrible pain, he apparently hurt his arm two days ago...and never said anything about it. The doctor said he's torn the muscle away from the bone and there's nothing much they can do for him."

It was his left arm, and it was a dark blue chevy pickup, the brand new one that they bought, he was just servicing it. I had never seen the pickup till later on.........and didn't know what color it was.

My Grandmother was a fortune teller..... They have said that she was one of the best around........in her day.

I had an aunt who was a fortune teller. Many of her predictions came true with startling accuracy.

I always felt as though I were Cassandra. I predicted correctly, but no one ever believed. <smile>

My dad found an old white dog frozen in the snow, but not dead. He took the creature home and nurtured it back to health. He loved to name dogs ridiculous things on purpose. So he named the dog, snowball. The only sensitive part of snowball was his paws which suffered frost bite.One did NOT want to get near those paws.

When my dad died, everyone followed the casket to the family cemetery. The heavens raged and the winds blew. It was really cold. Suddenly to add to the eeriness, snowball started a long and continuous howl. No one said a word. After several days, when no one could find snowball, the search began. He was found eventually, frozen to death in the snow in almost the same place that Daddy had found him.

Nick and mms, I know of families that pass along that supernatural trait for generations. Most are quiet about it--as Nick said--no 900 numbers.

I've often wondered if some with esp are very close to the land. Animals are super sensitive to change before it happens and the circadian rhythm and closeness to nature seems to help some people "tune" in to events or feelings that most of us aren't aware of until they happen.

My theory doesn't work though; so many psychics aren't from rural areas. Still, it is much better known and accepted throughout rural areas (I think). This might be due to the general population having less education and therefore more easily accepting paranormal reasons for things they don't understand, but that can be explained scientifically.

The studies of paranormal experiences are no longer being done since there was little publishable proof. For most, I guess, it is a sometime thing that can't stand up to regular testing. As far as I'm concerned, that doens't take away the existence of the paranormal, it just shows that it is a skill that can be tested.

My belief isn't so much in the paranormal, but in the fact that, to me, we are all connected with one another, including animals and trees, etc. The ancient kind of animalistic belief system including aknowledging a spirit in anything, evern a rock, of many American Indians.

More stories please. This fascinates me and shows the kind of connectedness there can be between people, and animals.

I have ESP -- that is, if can I see a person, I can "read their mind". When what they say differs from what they're thinking I get tripped up. And I can't always do it. But it's a lot of what I do. (On my mind because I've been meeting new people lately and two of them were just utterly gobsmacked that I'm deaf -- I dropped it in after talking for a while, and one kept giving me funny looks and saying, "But you can hear a little... right? No? But then HOW can you...?" She actually seemed quite weirded out. :-))

Of course, what it actually is is that I've learned to read micro-expressions -- not extra-sensory, just making use of senses we have in a way that most people don't know how to do anymore (I'm sure we used to).

I wrote a semi-autobiographical short story in college about how the weird powers I had as a kid transformed into the mundane ability to communicate when I became deaf. Weird stuff definitely happened, all possibly coincidence, possibly not, I haven't come to any particular conclusions. Like, I had a huge crush on a good friend of mine in 8th grade or so and I was trying to psych myself up for telling him. I was in the public library where I had never once seen him over 2 years of knowing him, supposedly doing some homework but daydreaming. I vowed (not to anyone in particular, myself I guess) that if he showed up at the library after I'd counted to 30 I would tell him. I closed my eyes and put all of my energy into "summoning" him, counted to 30, opened my eyes, and there he was, walking in. I nearly fainted and was so upset that I just grabbed everything and left, never fulfilled the vow. (He went into the bathroom and never saw me.)


I was watching "Law and Order" and they had an episode where a boy witnessed a murder and was (of course) traumatized, and then finally started talking about it in terms of a dream he'd had -- the dream "foretold" the murder that took place, and he was guilty because he hadn't told anyone + therefore prevented it. The child psychologist described that to the cops as a common way that children take control over something they have no control over; the brain creates a narrative by which something traumatic was "dreamed" ahead of time (when in fact it's just a coping mechanism, no advance dream). I don't know if that's true.

I had a girlfriend once whose mind I could read easier than reading a book. She could barely hold a thought in her head without me knowing what it was. She lived 400 miles from me. The first time I went to her place we went to her ATM and found it out of order. She was thinking aloud saying "where's the nearest ATM". I could "feel" her thoughts and I said "you take a right out of here, go to the first light, go through three traffic lights and it's on the right". She was totally freaked out that I "read her mind". I tried to control myself after that.

At Letty's request, here's my story. It's a little long, but I hope you enjoy it. My father told me this true story years ago. I must have been in my early 30s at the time…about the same age he was on the evening this happened to him. I put the story in writing a few years back so it wouldn't be lost to future generations.

THE ADMONITION

Dan had just lost his job, and he was feeling very low.

To make matters worse, he had recently had to place his very elderly father in a nursing home and start incompetency proceedings. That just about tore him apart, and his relatives had been very critical of him. Nasty things were said. Awful things, coming from people who hadn't even bothered to visit "Pappy" in the last ten years while Dan and his wife, Dora, lived under the same roof with him and took care of him until it was no longer possible.

Father and son were the last two members of their immediate family. Dan's mother had died in a terrible automobile accident when he was only nine years old. The accident almost killed him as well. His three older sisters had all died before he turned 30 years old.

On this particular evening, Dan was feeling lower than he had ever felt in his life. He and Dora were sitting on the sofa in the living room and talking, long after their two small daughters had been put to bed. Dan was being very hard on himself, very critical. He was running himself down for not being able to handle things better. Dora was trying to stop this self-destructive ranting, but Dan was too depressed to pay any attention to her.

Suddenly, they heard a very loud crash. It came from the other end of the house...from one of the two downstairs bedrooms. They both jumped up and ran down the hall. They flipped the light switch inside the door of the first room, but saw nothing out of place. No sleepless kids playing with forbidden breakables, no broken objects. Then they looked in the other bedroom.

That room had been Pappy's room for more than 25 years, and they had not moved a single thing since he left. But one thing was missing now. The portrait of his wife, Nettie, in the oval tortoise frame with the curved glass was gone. It had hung on the wall next to Pappy's bed in the same place for all those years, a well-loved remembrance of his late wife. It was a lovely picture, drawn in pastels on a green background when she was young. Her red hair was pinned up Gibson-girl style, and she was seated on a porch railing covered with white wooden lattice. There were other pictures of her taken later in life, but none quite like this. No wonder her husband preferred to remember her that way.

Dan and Dora crossed the room and saw the picture lying on its side on the floor against the baseboard. A large chunk was missing from the wooden frame, but the glass was not broken. Thankfully the portrait itself, drawn on heavy paper, was not damaged. Dora carefully picked up the picture and its broken frame and carried it into the living room. It would have to be repaired.

Dan said maybe it was just his imagination, but perhaps the picture falling was some sort of message from his mother. Was that possible? No, it was just late and he was depressed, and you always get spooky thoughts at night, don't you? But still…there was something funny about the way that picture had fallen. It had been hanging on the same nail there for more than 25 years, and no one had been in the room when it fell. Why would it fall now? Tonight? Dora reminded him that houses do settle, and perhaps the nail had been loose for some time.

"That's it!" Dan said, jumping up from the sofa. "That's what was so strange! I could swear.…" Dora followed him back to Pappy's room, and they turned the lights on again. There, stuck solidly in the wall, was the nail. It hadn't moved. They ran back to the living room and turned the picture over. The picture wire was intact, too.

The picture must have jumped off the wall! The picture wire was several inches too long by today's standards. Remember how pictures used to be strung so they would tilt out several inches from the wall at the top? That picture would have had to jump up about six inches, then away from the wall to fall. There was simply no reason on earth that could explain what had happened.

No reason on…

Dan nodded silently. He knew what she was trying to say. And for the rest of his life, every time he started feeling down on himself, he would remember the picture and imagine what his mother would tell him. Even though he had only been nine years old when she died, he remembered her very well. She would never have allowed him to speak that way about himself. And he never did again.


Author's Note: My parents never repaired the frame. When we cleaned out their house after my mother's death, we found the portrait in a hall closet with the chunk of frame still missing. They couldn't bring themselves to hang it on the wall again. Perhaps they were always spooked by it. I took it to an expert in restoration. Now you cannot tell the frame was ever broken. It is hanging in my guest bedroom on one wall of a corner. I hung a portrait of my grandfather, painted just before Nettie died, on the other wall of the corner. The two portraits are only a foot apart, and the subjects are looking at each other. It makes me feel strange, but good, every time I see them together.

Eva, that brought a smile to my face...its spooky, but sweet.

Like I said, I have had some strange happenings, things moving, going off and on, but mine usually centers around knowing things...dreaming them and then they come true...

Some things I share, some things I don't...depends on what it is.


Diane..what you said:



You have to consider also, that back a hundred years ago, most people were rural....

But my G-Grandmother Jo Lee was the one that was famous for telling fortunes, reading tea-leaves and so on....

But the other G-Grandmother kinda had a gift also....she was a lil pyshic when it come to family. (Both on my mothers side)

My Mamaw was married for the first time, and had married into a German farming family...they lived up in the Boston Mountains here in Arkansas...My Mamaw was pregnant with her first, and apparently my GGM lived far enough off that they didn't visit everyday. (they didn't have phones)

One day late in my Mamaw's pregnancy, my GGM was bothered by something, they tell that the feeling was so troublesome that she couldn't tend to her business for this feeling of gloom...and Fay was laying heavy on her mind, she felt that she was in trouble, so decided that she was going to go and check on her.

She travelled up the mountain to where my Mamaw lived at the time, and didn't find her right off the bat, but she kept searching for her. She found her locked in a root cellar, having just give birth to a son that was stillborn.

They buried the son on that farm that very day, and left together to never go back.

LOCKED in a root cellar???

As in, her husband locked her in there, or she got trapped in there by herself?

Shiver that's a very sad story! Thank you for sharing!

Soz, I'm not surprised that you have the ability to 'read' other people. I would imagine that it depends very much on intelligence and a kind of natural empathy. I say that because not everyone develops those skills after losing one of their senses and because you so obviously have extraordinary intelligence and empathy. All anyone has to do is to read your posts. This isn't just a "nice" post, it comes from a few years of reading what you have to say, so please, no false modesty.

All of the stories presented here are examples of what I referred to as inerconnectedness. There is a caring and love and an ability to go outside oneself. That, to me, is one of the wonderful, lovely characteristics of human nature. Sometimes we focus on the ugliness and forget the beauty of being human.

More stories, please.

Yes..its sad, and yes...they locked her, as in her husband locked her in the root cellar.

Thats all of that story that has been told, after they were married he was very abusive to her...once my GGM found her in the root cellar, there were no questions asked as far as I know, she took her home that evening. Done deal. (They said that he worked her like a dog after they were married)

While researching my family history, I found their divorce on file......it was an interesting tidbit of information.



Have you ever noticed how you can spend moments here and there thinking about someone...and then they either show up, or they call?

I do that with my mother...lol I'll get to thinking about her...and dwelling on something, and its not long...she'll call and say, "I had you on my mind..thought I'd call and see how you were today?" I laugh..and tell her, "Awww..well, I knew you'd call...I was ESP'n ya...lol"

But she'll do me the same way...even my sister....