Saturday, July 30, 2011

Do You Believe?

Since my contact with the colonel I have been researching the subject of communicating with the dead. I have found many stories that are unique, in that they share something that I have been going through, speaking with the dead. Although, I did not actually speak with the colonel, I heard him speak to me. He must have felt my anger and booked. I do not want to open a door that I cannot close, but, I have to find closure in the haunting I am enduring. You read this story and make your own conclusion and send me your answer. Thanks, theblogmeister

The Story of Hi-Jack The Fisherman

During a time when I was young I was a commercial snapper fisherman. I was unskilled, and very young, so the only boats I could get a job with were the older more dangerous boats. As snapper fishermen we would go out for about a month at a time in the gulf of Mexico. I met a man that was also a fisherman, and he was very infatuated with my mother who tended a fisherman's bar near the marina.

His name was Jack, a hard core alcoholic and very jovial in nature. He was the kind of person who was always laughing, even when drunk (more so even). He was a gentle man and easy to get along with. We called him "hi-Jack" because whenever I saw him and said "Hi Jack" he would respond with a "High jack who?" in a loud humorous fashion. He loved my mother very much, though she had little to do with him.
We heard a rumor that Jack had died, he had fallen overboard while out at sea. We did not confirm it at the time, since we really were not very close to him, just an acquaintance. One night he came into a bar that I was in, it was only me and the barmaid (not my mom) since it was late and the bar was about to close. I was opening the door about to leave, when there he was in the doorway! What a surprise! I said "Jack I thought you were dead". He told me not to believe everything I hear, but he did NOT come right out and deny it either.
He was different, he had a more intelligent, deeper look in his eyes,and he held himself better, more confident, but not arrogant. I offered him a beer, which he took, but he never took a drink of it. Unusual since he was an alcoholic, even more unusual was the fact that he was sober late at night!
We sat at the bar, and he asked me how I was, but mostly he talked about my mother. He was very much in love with her and felt it important that I know that. He got up and left, walked down the street to the other bar, and that was the last time I saw him.
My mother had a similar experience, he walked into her bar (there were people there, not empty like the bar I was in), sat with her and had a long talk with her. After saying his "I have always loved you" speech, he took off heading for the marina.

The After Death Communication:

The next day my mother and I talked about this, and agreed that it was very odd. I later went to the fish house and asked about him, and sure enough he really had died! I later talked to Donna, the barmaid where I spoke to him, and she says he never was there and that I was sleeping at the end of the bar while she was preparing to close, and that no one sat with me...
The people that were in my mother's bar told my mother that during that time she was also alone, and had her head down at the bar, like she was resting or sleeping...
Could we both have had the same dream? Was it all in our minds? I don't think so, to me this profoundly convinced me that we do survive death, and that the dead can communicate.

Friday, July 29, 2011

He Is In My Head

Night after night I cannot get through one without visions of the demon of my past. He has chosen to take the route of the past trying to cause me to lose my sanity. Why? I did what was asked of me. It took the colonel weeks to convince me to do what he could not do himself. Do I get thanks for doing it? Hell, no. All I get is images of the torment and hell he put me through for years. He has followed me from Ft. Walton Beach, FL. to where I am, today. Can you call this a haunting. I believe it is exactly that. I hear tremendous noises that are loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep. I get up and examine my home. You should feel safe in your home. I do not. I had finally made contact with him and I sat on my couch as he sat on the other end. Was I dreaming? I really do not believe so. I could smell him, I could see him. I stared at him for what seemed like an hour and he finally spoke. "Why do you fear me?" You have got to be kidding. I blew a fuse. That question pissed me off. Then, he asked me the same thing, again. I let him have it, verbally. Now, he has chosen to be a coward, again. He has chosen to try to create fear in me. It works, too. I do not know what to do. He has moved things in my house. That, in itself, scares the hell out of me. What if he tried to hurt my wife or myself? If he can move things then he has the power to put a knife in my chest. Scared? Hell yes, I am scared. I sleep with one eye open. It is a figure of speech, I sleep lightly. He has control of my sub-conscious mind. When I sleep, he has power. I cannot stay awake, forever. It is affecting my life. Sometimes I wonder if I am losing my mind. I am sure he will continue with his games. Just pray for me.    theblogmeister