Old houses have secrets, in closets, in the attic, under floorboards, especially the second step to the upper floors. Always feel for a loose brick in the chimney my grandfather told me. He contracted to tear old houses down, a “junk man”—so I thought. Actually, he was an explorer of antiquities. He first searched for the forgotten hidden treasures of the past inhabitants of those houses. Treasures those inhabitants held close to their hearts and trusted to reveal to no one until it was too late to remember. I always thought he was just saving the copper pipes, window glass, mantle trim, brick and stone to resell to contractors for the upscale mansions that were being built along the main line of Philadelphia. I was the “gopher”, go for this and go for that. I was always going for something I couldn’t find and when I returned my grandfather would have this ironical grin on his face. I learned some valuable lessons from my grandfather.
The old house I live in now is no different, there are hiding places, magical areas for a grown up kid as myself to venture into. My house was built in 1882. By 1901 the house’s main parlor was being advertised for rent as having a séance room, seventeen feet square, with bay window, closet and upright piano. How many séance’s were held here over the years and who were the people who attended on a regular basis? What knowledge was obtained and was all the information revealed or was it suppressed, then written down and hidden away? Could I find something that no one else discovered? Had anyone ever tried?
I was walking along the lake at sunset behind the National Spiritualist Association of Churches (NSAC) office in Lily Dale, New York, when I heard a clear voice say, “Pick up those doors for your cottage”. I had just noticed some rather garish gold-painted doors put out for the trash. I looked around, but no one was there. When I looked more carefully I saw they were French doors. But I did not have a cottage to put them in. I started to walk on, when distinctly, in a voice like a mother commanding a child, I heard, “Pick up those doors for your cottage.”
Spirit often speaks inside my brain, but that was just the second time I had heard a “direct voice.” I walked on up to Connie’s cottage and asked her if I could place a set of doors behind it, promising that I wouldn’t leave them there more than one year. She lent me her van, and we picked them up.
Later that night I thought about the idea of a cottage at Lily Dale and me. I recalled a “seed thought” that I may have planted 10 years before as I walked down Buffalo Street with Neal. Continue Reading “Direct Voice From Spirit”
On the evening of Nov. 18, 1986 an occurrence happened in Eastern Pennsylvania at a Security Facility. This is the first time I mentioned this in public because of the adverse publicity this could cause the facility I was employed by and myself.
A co-worker and myself were working the 2nd shift stationed at the outside security building-this was a windy, rainy night with some distant heat lightning. Al my co-worker and I were having a metaphysical discussion about reincarnation and karma. We were facing each other about 6 ft. apart. A light bulb to the right of me on the wall of the inside of the building suddenly grew dim, made a cracking sound then went out and the room dimmed-the building shook. I heard a loud cracking sound in my face and head. There was a strange pungent sulfur smell in the air. Both of us felt disoriented. Continue Reading “Time Warp”