Archive for the ‘True Mystic Experiences’ Category
by Ava Belle Chucta
I was born in January 1920, and I have had three near-death experiences. The first happened when I had measles at age seven. We had gone on a trip to Leadville, Colorado, a town above the timberline in the mountains southwest of Denver. My father worked in road construction all over the state of Colorado and he was going up there to check out a job.
We traveled in a Model-T dump truck. It was early fall, and it was getting cold. Three of us kids were on a feather bed covered with quilts in the back of the truck. My baby sister was wrapped in blankets on my mother’s lap on the front seat. There was not a cab on that truck.
We stayed in a hotel overnight in Leadville, and it was so cold in that room. It had linoleum on the floor that felt like ice when you walked barefoot on it. Read the rest of this entry »
My Proof of Survival
by Linda McDonald Williams
My husband Joe and I have had several paranormal experiences during our lives, individually before we met, and since our marriage 31 years ago. We are down-to-earth, commonsense people not given to flights of fancy. Our experiences are accepted as important facets of our lives and sometimes, the lesson to be learned from an encounter is not always clear at the moment it happens. This is an account of one experience I had:
It was a chilly Monday night in the fall and my husband was watching a football game on a TV set in our bedroom, while I sat in the living room watching a movie on another set. It was about 9:30 p.m. I had been watching a movie and dozed off, which I was prone to do occasionally when left alone to watch TV while my husband was in another room of our home. I had nodded off and upon waking, it was a little after ten o’clock. Having missed about 30 minutes of the movie I had planned to see, I decided to go to bed to read, a favorite ritual of mine. Read the rest of this entry »
by Raymond C. Otto
At the town of Wexford, Ireland, one day in May, 1958, some men from the state electricity board began digging a hole in a little mound for erection of a light pole. As soon as the townspeople saw what was happening they told the men that no light pole ever would stay put in that particular spot.
The mound, they explained, was a fairy rath and everyone in Ireland knows that fairies who live in such raths resent being disturbed.
The electricity men just scoffed and finished the hole. They popped in the pole and carefully tamped the earth back in around it.
The next morning the pole was loose. “It was the little people,” the Wexford folks said, shaking their heads.
The workmen came back and reset the pole, but the next morning it was loose again. Then the scientific-minded electricity men dug a hole six feet wide, put the pole in the middle and rammed the earth around it so firmly they were certain nothing could shake it. The following morning the pole was as loose as ever.
Finally the electricity men gave up. They dug another hole four feet outside the rath and set the pole there. It is still standing and is as steady as a rock.
FATE Magazine “True Mystic Experiences”
by Martha Waters
My high school sweetheart and I were married soon after we graduated in 1970. Being children of the 1960s, we often talked about death and the occult. We agreed that whichever of us died first would try to make some kind of contact.
Jerry got into drugs, much to my dismay, and we eventually divorced in the late 1970s. As time went by, we both married again. We remained friends after our divorce but kept only minor contact.
In May 1993 I received a phone call that Jerry had died of an accidental drug overdose. I called my ex-sister-in-law who proceeded to tell me that Jerry’s current wife did not want me to attend his funeral. I did not want to cause any problems for the family, so I decided to abide by her wishes. Read the rest of this entry »
Sunday, where I was scheduled to deliver the sermon. There were people behind me that I did not know. As I entered the church, one of the members called to me, “Charlie Brown, it’s about time you got here.” I was 15 minutes early, but they had expected me sooner.
A few minutes later, I was approached by a man who came up behind me. He asked if I was the same Charlie Brown that writes about angels. I told him I didn’t know if I was the only one, but I did write about angels.
“Did you write one about 50 years ago about your brother?” he asked.
I paused in amazement. “Yes, I did,” I replied. I had totally forgotten the story. It appeared in a magazine that I could no longer remember. Read the rest of this entry »