One of the first questions I am asked when someone learns that I am a Medium is how long have I had this ability?

I have memories of visitations as far back as the age of 4.  One of the first things I remember was a weekend at my Grandma's house.  It was my bedtime and like most kids that age, I did not want to go to sleep.   It was a small two bedroom house and I loved it there. I always felt safe and loved. The door to the bedroom was open which meant that I could see into the living room where everyone else was still up visiting and laughing and enjoying the evening.  But as I sat up in the bed watching and listening, I saw something so clearly that to this very day, I still remember it in great detail. 

Standing in the doorway was a silhouette of a man.  He was just inside the bedroom doorway with the bright light from the living room behind him, which made it difficult to see his face.  He leaned against the doorway and just stood there facing me.  He was very tall; at least 6 foot 3 and I could tell he had reddish hair which was in a crew cut similar to my Dads.  I wasn’t afraid at first, just confused as to who this person was.  He reminded me of a friend of my Dads so that was another reason I wasn’t afraid, because I felt like I knew him.

I only began to get scared when I realized that I could see through him.  Even though he was mostly a dark silhouette, I could see my Grandmother and Mom and Dad in the living room behind him.  The other thing that was weird to me is that he was smoking.  I would watch him raise his hand to his mouth and I could see the glowing embers on the tip of his cigarette yet I never saw any smoke.  After a few minutes he walked toward me and placed the tip of the burning cigarette against my arm. I remember feeling the heat against my forearm but it didn't cause me pain.  A few seconds later my Mom came into the bedroom to get something and the man was gone.  I never saw the man again.  I think I didn’t feel much fear, because my Mom and Dad and Grandmother were only 10 feet away. I also never felt anything evil, even if it were more than a little creepy experience.  I am not going to make the story more interesting by saying there was a red burn mark on my arm or that I was afraid of the family friend who this man reminded me of.  None of that would be true. (There were no marks on my arm and I was never left alone with any man, not even a family friend or relative)

I remember another strange encounter was when I was about 8 years old.  My Dad worked for a trucking company who had purchased a new semi truck.  My Dad wasn’t a trucker but knew the rigs inside and out, so they asked him to go get the truck and drive it back to the shop.  He took my Mom and they flew to Oregon to get the truck and enjoy the beautiful scenery as he drove it back home.  While they were gone, I stayed with my Grandma for a few days.  They picked me up from Grandmas house on the way back to our home town.  I remember how cool it was to sit in that great big truck and I could see forever because the cab was so high.  I remember lying down in the sleeper for awhile and then sitting in the middle by the gear shift between my Mom and Dad.  The windshield seemed enormous as I looked out at the road in front of us.  It was late in the evening and the sky was dark.  There were no street lights and the road was dark except for the white lines in the road separating the lanes.  I remember passing the weigh station where semi’s pulling trailers had to stop and be weighed.  We didn’t have a trailer on the back so we weren’t required to stop.  There really were no businesses along this part of the highway so the weigh station was the only place lit up in the darkness other than an occasional house.

As we were going down the highway a car slowly passed us.  It was a dark blue or black and it was one of those station wagons where the back seat faced the rear window.  It had a thin white scroll and trim along the side.  As they passed us, there were two old men sitting in the rear, facing us.  They were dressed alike and had grey hair and dark suits with dingy white dress shirts and skinny dark ties.  They both looked directly at me, making eye contact.  One of them raised his hand and waved at me.  The one looked a little grouchy but the one who raised his hand gave me a slight smile.  I said to my Mom “I wonder if they are twins”.  Her reply was “Who?”  I said “those two old men in that car”.  Her reply? “What old men?”.  My Mom and Dad couldn’t see them.

Over the years as I thought about that night, I have thought they looked a bit like Einstein.  Recently however, when going through some old genealogy photos, I realized they looked very much like my great uncle Ed who had passed not long before this occurred.  I don’t know that it was he, but he and my Grandfather were twins, however, they weren’t identical.  There was another uncle who had passed who looked more like my Grandfather but I admit that it’s been so many years that I can’t say for sure. I only met the uncles once or twice and my Grandfather passed before I was born, so even if it were them, I wouldn’t have recognized them.  I just know that I was never scared of what I saw.  Of course if I let my mind analyze it now, I could say that the station wagon was actually a hearse and that they were coming from a funeral, but that is my adult mind trying to make sense out of something that I saw decades ago.  All I know is what I saw, and that my Mom and Dad couldn’t see them.

I still drive down this road about once a month and each time, I know exactly the spot where this happened and I remember it clearly.