'Close Call'-
"At 2:30 in the morning I heard the loudest noise I’d ever heard in my life. I awoke on the floor of my living room, surrounded by blocks of cement and stucco, big chunks of it. I thought a tornado had hit my house.
The squeaky voice of a woman said, “Is anybody in there, are you alright?”
“Yes. I’m in a wheel chair and I’m hurt. I need help!” I yelled back.
I looked to the left and saw a car bumper and grill, the front of a car was within six feet of my head. I could have reached out and touched it.
A mans voice said, “Craig, are you alright?” It was my neighbor Rick.
The front wall of my home was smashed, and a cement brick from above the front door had hurled across the living room and snapped my couch in half. Up until that night, Rochelle had slept on that living room couch.
The cement block landed close to my head and had scattered heavy pieces of broken entertainment center around me.
I’d insisted that my daughter Rochelle sleep in a bedroom that night. She’d been sleeping on the couch the last four nights, but something urged me to make her move to a bedroom that night. It was divine intervention. No one will convince me otherwise."
Contributed by Craig Shepard Photographer
“Idle Hands”
We lived in the country on a dirt road. Outside our kitchen door was a hill with old flag stone steps and a large lilac bush. One evening we had just finished supper and my parents had gone into the living room. I had to stay in the kitchen until I finished my milk, and I hated milk.
I can still smell the cow lingering in my nose from the milking. I sat in a big rocker in front of our open kitchen door, trying to force that milk down, when I saw a gray haired lady turn from the road below and start up our hill. She was wearing a long gray skirt, cream colored blouse and a long feed sack apron with tiny faded print patterns. I remember that her hands were rolled up and hidden inside her apron.
I turned my head and yelled that we had company, and when I turned back the old woman was moving slowing around our lilac bush. She seemed in no hurry, as if to find the best blossoms. I turned again to announce her presence, and when I turned back she was gone. Mom came in to see who it was. I could see she was upset when I told her, and she called my dad in for me to retell the story again.
I had described my grandma who died before I was born. She always covered her hands when not in use because ‘idle hands are the devils tools’. Her house had burnt when my Dad was small and his sister Frances died in the fire. I’m told I looked a lot like my aunt and maybe this is why she visited me.
When the old kitchen became my bedroom, my grandma began to visit me during the night. In high school, I awoke to her touch as she lowered me to the floor, saving me from a tough fall from the high antique bed I slept in. This was the only time she ever scared me, I suppose because this time she touched me.
Contributed by Susan Jones
THESE ARE FROM A COLLECTION OF EXCERPTS I'VE COMPILED FOR MY BOOK: HOW WE TRANSFORM
Along Came a Spider
It was 10:00 pm, I was surfing the web in my bedroom. My 5 year old was asleep in his bedroom at the other end of our apartment, so I thought. I was taking this opportunity to get in some quality computer time without interruption.
It was quiet that night, no television or radio, unusual for us. I felt a strange sensation, like someone was behind me as I sat at the computer desk with my back to the room. Suddenly my neck chilled and a VERY loud whisper said "MOTHER" in my left ear.
I jumped and ran to Tyler’s room, he was sitting up in bed so frightened by a spider that he couldn't make a noise. He had this terrified look on his face, his mouth open with a silent scream. To Tyler’s credit it was quite a nasty looking spider hanging on his little web cord, right over Tyler's bed.
Someone or something was certainly watching over both of us that evening!
Contributed by Alice Mason
Let Go!
I have a friend named Cindy who was driving down the road one night during a storm. It was a country road and very dangerous conditions. Suddenly her car lost control and she started to run off the road. Just as she was about to go over an embankment she released her hold on the wheel and screamed out, "I Let Go and Let God!”
She doesn't remember anything after this. Suddenly she was on the road moving along and everything was just fine again! One minute she was about to crash off the road and the next she was sitting in her car as it cruised down the middle of the lane.
Contributed by Laura Allmacher RN
A Miracle
“I remember a lady I took care of in the Poudre Valley Memorial Hospital in Ft. Collins, CO back in the early 1970's. I worked on an allergy, psychiatric, overflow ward and we got a lot of patients nobody else wanted to deal with.
One was a lady transferring in from the Denver Hospital where she had been aggressively treated for Cancer. It didn't work and her latest tests showed she was riddled with cancer, including her brain.
She was very confused and combative and was in restraints when she came in. The doctor ordered all medication discontinued except for pain meds. We were good with patients like this, and we cleaned, ‘cozied’ her up and gave her a lot of TLC.
Slowly her combativeness and confusion went away and she became stronger. Follow up tests confirmed that she was completely cancer-free.
I'm sure there are good scientific explanations, but I prefer to think of it as a miracle (and of course, our TLC).
Contributed by Ellen Russak, RN
God Speed!
Eugene Abke was a friend of my dad’s for as long as I can remember. They worked many years together for the county road commission. Eugene was a permanent bachelor who lived with his mother until her death. He was the type of person who showed up at any event to which he was invited. He went to graduations, weddings, and funerals. When new babies were born he would deliver a gift hand- knit by his mother. He would help anyone out with anything at anytime. My father used to say he was the hardest worker he knew. It all the years at the road commission, he only missed work once for a hernia surgery.
I really got to know Eugene after my divorce. I rented the house across the street from him. In the winter I would wake up and my driveway would be plowed, in the summer I may come home to my lawn mowed or fresh vegetables on my porch from his huge garden. He would invite my children and my self to come over and pick fresh raspberries.
I could never thank him enough for his kindness, and when I tried, he would act as if he hadn’t a clue what I was talking about. The amazing thing about Eugene was that he did these kind acts for everyone on our little street. Eugene retired in the fall of 2002 when he was 59 and ½. My father used to laugh that Eugene never needed the money anyway, his father had left him quite well off.
Just before Christmas that year he came out to visit my parents and tell them he was off to Florida for a few weeks. My brother had died unexpectedly that year and Eugene would help my parents out when he could. My father was quite a bit older than him, and Eugene had taken it upon himself to look after my parents. When Eugene began experiencing abdominal pain in January, he drove himself back home to Michigan and went to our local ER. He was diagnosed with liver cancer and given a month to live. Nobody in our small town could believe that such a terrible thing could happen to such a wonderful, giving person. How cruel it seemed to take a man, only months into his retirement.
When my father called to tell me of Eugene’s illness, I was especially upset. He was so good to me at such a terrible time in my life. I was sure I would never be able to thank him properly. A few days later on a Wednesday, I went to the supermarket and bought a card to send him. A get-well card didn’t seem appropriate, so I selected one that was more inspirational.
When I arrived home, there was a message on my machine from my father that Eugene had died that morning. Upset that I had missed my opportunity, I decided to send the card anyway to Eugene’s brother. I wrote a long note inside mentioning all the wonderful things I remembered about him, along with a few antidotes my father had told us about Eugene as we were growing up.
I mailed the card on Wednesday from my local post office. On Friday afternoon, the day of the funeral, my father called me very excited. He said the minister who spoke at the funeral said he did not know Eugene because he had only met him the week before, but that he had the privilege of learning more about him from a letter that his brother had ‘received the day before’. His brother asked that the minister read the letter, because he thought it was a fitting eulogy of Eugene.
Imagine my father’s surprise to learn the letter was written by me. If I ever mail anything to my parent’s home 100 miles north, it takes three days. That letter had been mailed from my local post office after 3o’ clock in the afternoon, and was in Eugene’s brother’s hands in less than 24 hours. It had to travel through 4 post offices before delivery.
I had been devastated to learn of Eugene’s death, and not being able to attend his funeral caused me even more distress. Yet somehow, someway, I was able to write his eulogy. I will be forever grateful for the honor and privilege.
Contributed by June Murray, RN
Baby Booties
In 1967 we built a new home. My mother died in August, only a few weeks before we moved in. I found out that we were expecting a new baby shortly after that. I had long since given away and gotten rid of any baby things I had. This would make number four and there was seven years between this one and the last. It was a very sad time as I couldn’t share things with her about our new house and the baby. I always felt like she knew anyway, and wanted me to know she did.
After we’d lived in our new house for two months I began wishing I had some of Mother’s little booties she made for all the babies. They were pretty little things and she would put tissue inside them. They stood up so nicely with their tiny little pompoms.
She made mint green, yellow or white when she gave them to us before the baby was born, because years ago prior knowledge of the sex of a baby was unknown.
One day I went to the hall linen closet and on the middle shelf, right at the edge where it would catch my eye, stood a pair of mint green booties, complete with tissue paper! Mother surely placed those little booties there so I‘d know all was well.
Contributed by Nancy Suiter
Co worker Michael
My friend, and co-worker, Michael was attacked and murdered in the parking lot of a major store here in Las Vegas. Michael had serious brain damage and was taken off life support about a week after. I was holding Michael's hand as he passed away.
Michael's family made arrangements to have Michael's remains sent to Texas for the funeral. We decided to have a memorial service for him here, as he has many friends in Las Vegas who couldn't make it to Texas.
I bought candles for I and my kids to have at his memorial. My daughter asked if we should get extra candles for people who didn't bring any. I’d just put the entire memorial service together on a prayer and a shoestring, as I am a single mom with no outside help, and Michael's family was financially strapped already.
I finally said "We’ll cut money from our grocery budget, lets just get them." So we purchased the candles and other supplies needed for his memorial service totaling twenty dollars.
As we set up the amphitheater my son showed me a dollar he’d found blowing in the wind near the stage. We joked that Michael was helping pay for his candles. This was funny until my daughter who hadn't heard my son and I, showed me a dollar she’d found blowing in the wind on the other side of the stage.
During the memorial, what I thought was a piece of paper blew across my foot. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. When we got home I took all of the trash out of my pockets and was surprised to see that what I’d picked up was a receipt from the store where Michael was attacked.
Wrapped in the receipt was the person's paper-money change... $19. The receipt was for several purchases including two movies. Michael and I always shared movie reviews with each other, and the movies were Barbershop, meaningful because I’d been joking about Michael needing a haircut on the day he was attacked, and Waiting to Exhale, the words I actually told him right before he was removed from life support. I said “You’re going to be okay, you’re just ‘waiting to exhale’.”
Funniest thing, on the one year anniversary of Michael’s memorial service I walked through the same amphitheater. I was thinking of him and all of a sudden the wind blew a $20.00 bill over my foot! Contributed by Michelle Moore.
The Lost Ruby
I’ve had only one experience in my life and this one changed my life and way of thinking. When I was a teen my grandmother moved in with us. I loved my grandmother, we were very close. My mother called me her ‘junior’.
When I was seventeen I went to the prom and my grandmother let me borrow her beautiful ruby necklace. At that age, being somewhat reckless, I lost it somewhere. To this day I still don’t know where, I just remember at the end of the night my mother was extremely upset with me. My grandmother being very understanding and forgiving was not upset at all.
A year later my grandmother passed away and not long afterwards I joined the military and was stationed in Germany. For years I had not talked to my family. My husband left me and at this point I‘d been in Europe four years with still another year to go.
One night I became an hysterical drunken mess, cried for hours and I passed out. The next morning I found clutched in my hand my grandmother’s beautiful ruby necklace. I don't know how to explain this! I shared this with my mother and we both cried. Together with the help of my family and this miraculous event, I’m putting my life back together,
Contributed by Cindy Rowe
Sounds in the Night
Prior to my husband’s liver transplant we had been living in northeast Georgia. We were notified by my company that if we had the procedure done at Mayo Clinic it would be completely paid for, including travel and living expenses. We chose the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida and went down there in August for the two week evaluation process.
Mayo Clinic approved Chuck's transplant and told us to move down there by the end of September. Once we moved, they had to do a few more tests before putting him on the UNOS (United Network for Organ Sharing) list. We received a letter stating that Mayo had added his name to the list on October 25th.
On November 1st at approximately 3:00am, I woke up to the horrible sound of tires screeching on pavement and then a loud 'thud' as if the vehicle had made impact with another object. I jumped out of bed which caused my husband to jump up too, asking me what the matter was. He didn't hear the screeching like I had.
I told him that I’d heard a ‘bad car crash’ so he followed me out the front door. I stood there in my yard, in my pajamas and looked both ways up and down our street. There was nothing. Everything was peaceful except for frogs croaking. I couldn't believe it.
So I went back to bed and tried to go to sleep again, but it the noise I’d heard still bothered me. My husband suggested we drive around the neighborhood and out on the highway to see if there’d been an accident. We drove up and down each street and both ways on the highway. There was no accident!
We got the call we were waiting for, early on November 6th. The hospital now had a compatible liver for him. I began to wonder if his liver donor had died in a car accident I’d heard, but not seen. It was already a wonder that my husband waited on the UNOS list for only 13 days!
Once my husband came out of Intensive Care two days later, he had the appetite of a teenager. I realize that he was sick and his appetite was less than normal but I had never seen him eat a Cheeseburger and fries immediately followed by 4 chicken wings and a biscuit. That's the way his appetite has been after his transplant.
We haven't contacted the donor's family because my husband thinks it would be better to have them go through the mourning process without attaching themselves to him, because he carries their deceased loved one's liver. We still do not know how the donor died.
My husband is very sensitive to the paranormal and all through the process of his illness, prior to the transplant, there were spirits with him. He felt an embrace as he sat on the edge of his bed. I even saw the indentation of someone sitting beside him. I took a digital picture and downloaded it to my computer. The photo showed a mysterious mass right beside him.
One spirit did mischievous acts solely, I believe, to keep my husbands’ humor up. The spirit would untie his shoes, something he never did, and ruffle his sheets after we’d get into bed. We often had to tell her, “Go on and let us sleep.”
Contributed by Peggy Truelove