Ever caught something in your peripheral that looked suspiciously alive? That wisp of vapor or a lick of shadow; that blink of light or a suspicious reflection; that glob of something immaterial or something seemingly too symmetrical, too ordered, or, well, too intel- ligent to be anything less than a spirit?
For those select few that have seen the coup de grâce—a solid, unmistakable apparition, that delivers that killer blow on doubt—could there be any plausible explanation outside of the paranormal? How willing would you, the reader, be to accept something so far beyond the 21st century paradigm?
In 2003, a Harris Poll confirmed that a staggering 84 percent of respondents believed in the survival of the soul after death. With this alleged survival come a slew of simple, yet lingering questions. Where to next? In what form does the spirit endure? Are our bodies merely vehicles for transcending the material frequency? Do spirits pass into a different vibration or into an alternate dimension from that known to the living? For those too troubled by their passing to accept it, could they actually reach out to the living in lurid and convincing displays of immortality? Or are they trapped somewhere within their own conceptions of purgatory? For anyone that has encountered the dead first- hand, the answer is a simple and glaring, yes. If seeing is believing, than how could one ignore having seen something so rare, so glaring and so deliberate? These are just a few of those real-life accounts, where reason meets reality and where reality gives reason to believe the unbelievable. Go Toward the Light Shortly after looking at my pickup truck, which I had advertised for sale, my friend John Turner was mur- dered. Just about the time of his demise, I decided to go for a walk. As I opened my front door, the streetlight 70 Messages from the Dead
across from me blew out. I then walked down the hill, where I bumped into a friend of mine named Paul Kjorne at Martin Luther King Park, a couple of blocks from my house. John, Paul, and I were all members of the Minne- sota Street Rod Association. As Paul and I started to talk about John’s murder, something made us look up at the streetlight across from us. We observed a phan- tom figure with its arm outstretched, reaching toward the light. It was only the upper torso, tapering off into a smoke or a mist, and was a translucent, grayish white. Almost simultaneously the streetlight exploded and went out. As this happened, Paul’s mouth popped open and his eyes bugged out as he shouted, “Paranormal!” I left Paul and headed home. When I got a quarter of a block from the next streetlight, it too exploded and burned out. I thought to myself, “Was this John’s spirit telling us he was heading toward the light and that he was now all right?” —Dr. Michael Denis Michaelson, Minneapolis, Minn.
An Image from Beyond
Even though I lost my biological father before I was born, I’ve seen evidence that there really is still life after death. When I was around 13 years old, I found
myself at my aunt’s apartment along with several of my cousins. Out of the blue, and partially out of boredom, someone got the idea that we should play a game. I knew right away that this couldn’t be too good, but I had no real idea just what it was I was about to get into. The game required a dark room, a mirror, and a few reluctant participants. Though it was in the mid- dle of a sunny day, there happened to be an unused room in the very center of the apartment. There were doors on each of the four sides of this room and no windows. We grabbed a mirror from the living room and sat it on the floor, propped against the wall. I had no idea what was going on or what to expect. The cousin who had suggested the game gave instructions, telling us to close our eyes, spin around in a circle, and chant. We had decided to use the name of my deceased father. I didn’t like this game to begin with, but that was going too far for me. Still, I was curious. After all, it was just a game. I came to find out that, like many other “games,” it was more real than I expected. We closed our eyes—at least, the others did. I chose to crack mine open a little bit every few seconds or so. You can imagine my surprise to actually see an image coming from the mirror! It was a glowing form, like a person standing upright. As frightened as I was, I couldn’t just stand there and stare. I rushed for daylight, then stood gasping, glad to find myself out of the dark. Don’t believe me? Then I dare you to try it for yourself. —Cameron T. Brown, Heflin, La.