2 November 2017 0 Comments

What Are Ghosts Thinking – Rainbow’s Ghostly Views

For the most part, Michael and I are usually on the same page regarding our projects, interests and ideas. Every once in a while, we don’t agree, which makes life interesting. So last week’s post, written by Michael wasn’t something I totally agreed with. Here’s my take on this subject.

Since I’m an Empath, throughout my life I have had disembodied spirits talk to me besides other beings of different intents and places. Most of the time, I don’t go looking for them, they come looking for me. As a kid I was scared to death, as a teeny bopper, I was annoyed  and as a young adult I just wanted to be like my friends, oblivious to anything outside of school and boys.

Time doesn’t exist outside of our last breath; at least this is what was told to me by spirits, ghosts and a few goblins. It’s a comfort, kind of like leaving the lights on at night but outside of our existence, it’s not necessary.

Ghosts become the end result of their lives, whether they be short, long or in the middle. Painful deaths, wrongful deaths and long and tortuous deaths can change the outcome of where we go as humans in the afterlife. And sometimes, people just don’t want to leave. The attachment to a person or a place is so great, that they are bound to the emotional attachment of their memories. Love is a strong bond that holds no bounds.

Residual hauntings are a different story; they are a replaying of emotional trauma intentional or accidental. A car crash, catastrophic circumstances, heart attack or whatever can ail the human body. Shock and awe can saturate a place within seconds and leave a residue of unrequited answers lingering for eons.

Unconsecrated ground brought forth from ceremonies, unholy or untimely deaths can create such a outburst of emotional repulsion and distress that, that very moment in time is imprinted forever. To be within this energy is unhealthy and for anything to linger within its effluence can create a crack within the parameter of existence for ghosts and humans alike.

Whatever can bring about confusion and denial, usually holds the human spirit here. It’s a tough realization to comprehend that the human body  is no longer a part of  life, that the things that most of us take for granted … are gone for good. When death enters the picture, there are no second chances. The door is closed, at least for the human to human contact we live with day in and day out.

But let’s take this a step further, imagine, using other abilities to communicate to loved ones, that weren’t used while you were alive. What is death, really? It takes away the body only, but not who we are as sentient beings. The ghostly others, have communicated with me throughout my life, so this does happen, this “different” way of communicating.

What if there are other ways to communicate that we unfortunately don’t use while we are alive like telepathy, mind over matter and levitation. It seems through stories and recounted events, that shocking circumstances can prompt the use of these abilities. Why is it that people who come so close to death or perhaps die for minutes, bring back these abilities with them?

To me, ghosts are reminders that life continues on and if they can relay to me what lies beyond the life I know, I am more than willing to talk to them.

Yes, they do have a voice; it’s just not with vocal chords.

27 October 2017 0 Comments

What are Ghosts thinking?

 

I am thinking there are Ghosts the exist among us , I believe I saw a statistic that said about 60% of the US Population believe in Ghosts. But only a small percentage of them actually have seen , felt or seen evidence of them.  Some of the typical happenings that bring ghosts into the possible reality are the following; if you witness doors and cupboards opening and closing by themselves, seeing Owls before and after a death of a close friend or family member, electronics turning on and off on their own, items from loved ones who have passed on, showing up. Pets staring at apparently nothing. Finally, seeing something from out of the corner of your eye. And the rarest event is actually seeing a ghost, apparition, or spirits .

Last week, we saw the movie ” A Ghost Story “, it was not a blockbuster hit but it got me thinking about what ghosts are thinking ? In the movie,  the ghost says nothing, except for a few lines to another ghosts, telepathically .  Throughout the movie, the Ghost stands and observes the people around him, occupying the space he once lived in.

I do believe Spirits get attached to places they have a powerful connection to. I think it’s something like an electromagnetic field that they can’t break free from until something satisfies a need and  cuts off a positive or negative polarity.  In this movie, the draw of attachment, was a simple note in a crack of a door frame that his girlfriend had written and put in the crack, for him to see. I don’t believe she knew he was there , but only hoped he was and hope is a powerful force that creates a binding polarity.Once he read the note the polarity was broken and he was released to go where he could create his new adventure .

So the lesson here is to the living, don’t create a field of holding on – let them GO.

Ghosts don’t think, they only wait.

Sleep tight — Life is forever, but  time here on earth is a quick passing.

MWiz

14 June 2017 0 Comments

Paranormal Underground Magazine

Check out my articles in the April and May issues of the Paranormal Underground magazine. Lots of great articles and insights into the paranormal from people just like you and me, looking for the truth.

https://www.paranormalunderground.net/

4 November 2016 0 Comments

People need to speak Truth on UFOs and the Paranormal

wake-up

People need to speak about their UFO/ Paranormal experiences. They need to  speak the  truth about their interest and yeanings on the subject . UFOs and the paranormal discussions should be as common as apple pie with a Sunday dinner.

I have flown around this country thousands of miles over the last 5 years, and I got some of my best UFO/Paranormal conversation on the plane or getting to the airport, discussions with random strangers. Like several amazing discussions with a scientist from an Aero-space company who knew the inner workings of the Star Wars project – and note the project wasn’t to keep watch/ defend ourselves against the Russians or any other human country on earth. In the other candid conversations hundreds of people poured out their souls. Many could not believe what they said – but it felt so good to them, to express their inner feelings about their paranormal experiences.

After 50 years of having this amazing passion for the unknown, I again will state everyone everywhere has had paranormal/ UFO experiences with Angels, ghosts, alien beings, demons, Cryptids, wee people and things I cannot describe in human terms. The fear of reliving the experience and the fear of being ridiculed by their peers has suppressed millions of people from speaking the truth.

This must all stop and people need to gather in groups and share their experiences, so the cosmic burden can be lifted from our planet. If we in mass would open up and tell our experiences to other around us, the paranormal beings would no longer be able to be invisible to us. They would have to show themselves, our new awaking as humans would lift the veil, millions of human quantum minds would force those “the paranormal beings” into our dimensional reality. And we would deal with each other as equal citizens of a new and better world.

Sleep tight, knowing a group of like-minded humans can move a mountain and together even see an alien being.

MWiz.

19 August 2016 0 Comments

Walking into Haunted Houses

 

haunted house

A while back I received a phone call from a woman who thought she had a poltergeist in her house. I listened to her talk about doors slamming, shadow people walking about and things being moved or disappearing. It affected one child but the rest of the family didn’t seem to be bothered by the activity. This made me think, “Why would a few members of the family be affected but not the rest?”

It seems that the activity followed this woman from one house to another. When I hear this happens, it’s clear to me that either, a person is the one being haunted and not the house or that they are Empathic which opens them up to spirits in and around the house itself.

As I was listening to this woman talk, a few things came to my attention. First, she was laughing about some of the experiences which made me wonder if it was just her way of dealing with stress or did she know something she wasn’t telling me? After about 20 more minutes on the phone, I realized that this woman not only had a secret but I was able to figure out what it was by a few things she said. She said she had a friend who dabbled in the occult. (Lightbulb moment) It came in loud and clear to me that she was had done some sessions with this woman. If you play with Ouija boards, do séances or play with magic spells, the outcome will likely come back and bite you in the booty or as in this case, slam doors and become a daily menace.

Interestingly enough, it was almost as if two voices were speaking through her to me at once, one pleasant and the other a bit darker. I knew at that moment, going to her house was out of the question.

Funny though, as if on cue, she urgently asked to me to come to her house that same day, stating that it was imperative that I help her out. I not only saw a set up but sensed it, but not from this woman, from whatever dark energy was controlling her and her environment. Sometimes, we have to say no to unsafe and undesirable situations.

Being an Empath has its advantages but it can also be a double edged sword especially when our guard is down or as in my case so many years ago, I was naive and green between the ears.

Years back when I was in my early twenties, I rented a house with my ex-husband in Arizona. I can’t quite remember if it was in Flagstaff or Williams but it was large, by a river with lovely views. It only had one problem; there was a bedroom that faced the hallway next to the master bedroom that was strangely odd, foreboding and terrifying. The owner, who was a famous writer and dietitian, was leaving to go abroad. He made a comment about the ominous room which made my skin and hair stand on end. He said, “Don’t go into that bedroom. It’s not welcoming and I don’t think you’ll feel comfortable in it.”

Come to find out, he lost two loved ones in the house. First, his wife and the other I believe was a son. I could only gather from this information that the infamous bedroom was his sons. From the day we moved in, I found it very hard to be anywhere near that bedroom. For instance, at night I would usually wake up to use the bathroom. I would lie in bed and try to get up enough courage to cross the hallway into the bathroom. I had to pass the doorway to “that” bedroom and found that every fiber in my being was yelling at me to stay in bed. My bladder on the other hand was screaming for me to hurry up and pee. What’s a girl to do?

Well … I would smack, roll over or talk loudly to wake up my ex and act like it was an accident. I knew that if he was awake than at least if anything grabbed me, he would be awake to rescue me. It wasn’t fun for him but I at least could make a run for the bathroom, peeing in record time.

Daytime didn’t make things any better. You know those stories on TV about the haunted house being dark even with all the windows open and the blinds up; well this house was exactly like that. The hallway leading to the scary door would always seem longer than it was. I couldn’t be in the house by myself and before long my ex got so exacerbated at me that he told me I had to finally face my fears.

With a knowing and long sigh, I slowly walked down the extremely long hallway with the floor somehow becoming uneven and moving, making me really dizzy besides that upchuck feeling like I was going to puke my brains out.  The door was ominous and as I reached for the handle, it felt extremely cold to the touch, almost like I had grabbed on to an ice cube. The door creaked open and a gust of wind hit me, making me feel like I was in the North Pole. I can’t really explain it; it was like I passed beyond the veil into another world void of emotion, empty, dark  and cold. Did I mention I could see my breath? The more I saw my breath, the more I felt like something was sucking the air out of me like a cinched up corset, way too tight. I felt eyes peering down on me from the moment I walked in. I knew that whoever was waiting and watching was going to pounce on me any second. The fight or flight feeling hit me like a ton of bricks and I flew out of there so fast that I didn’t even bother to close the door. But that didn’t matter because within seconds of me running out of the room,the door slammed shut behind me.

 

To be continued …

3 June 2016 8 Comments

The Haunting of Leslie’s Family Tree Restaurant

170

A Family Affair
Being a Sci-fi fan and paranormal enthusiast, it’s common a few evenings out of the week, for me to watch Ghost Adventures, Dead Files etc. to get my weekly fix of high strangeness. One evening I was watching the Ghost Adventure guys and to my surprise, they were in Santaquin, Utah filming at a family restaurant. I checked out where the town Santaquin was located from where Michael and I live and it was a short distance away, under an hour.

I enthusiastically told Michael about Leslie’s Family Tree Restaurant and we decided to head out and visit it the following weekend. I called the restaurant to let them know we would be coming and as luck would have it, Leslie the restaurant owner answered the phone. She was a real sweetheart and down to earth kind of gal. We talked a short while and she even told me a few stories of her own experiences. But before I get into the actual haunting and experiences, let me give you some history of the town.

Santaquin was settled in 1851 by Mormon pioneers. There was a war called the Walker war that lasted from 1853-1854. The war started with a confrontation with James Walker Ivie which resulted in the death of several Timpanogos (also known as Ute) tribe members. It had to do with trade interruptions and hostilities between the Mormons and the Native Americans. There were raids and each side retaliated which resulted in the loss of life on both sides. Santaquin was at first named, Summit City but was later renamed in 1856 in honor of the son of Guffich, a local native chieftain friendly to the settlers.

Interestingly enough, the deaths and burial ground of some of the Ute Indians is part of the hauntings of the restaurant since it was supposedly built on a Native American burial ground. But there are other ghosts who for some reason or another have decided to stay within the restaurants familiar walls as well.

Leslie told me about a ghost with a sense of humor who was behind her and said, “Boo!”

She laughed at that one and she also saw a little girl who was emphatically talking to her. It seems as if Leslie is seen as a motherly figure and I can also see that they acknowledge her as the matriarch of the restaurant. Smart ghosts.

When Michael and I arrived at the restaurant we were greeted by friendly smiles and as we looked around the large room, it was evident by the many photos on the wall that Leslie and her family were leaving a legacy all their own. It was a warm and friendly place but you could feel something, almost like eyes upon you. It could have been all the photos on the wall or maybe some patrons of long ago.

We let some of the wait-staff know we were paranormal investigators and they enthusiastically started talking to us about their experiences. Charlotte, Leslie’s granddaughter came over and volunteered to give us a tour after our meal. I must add here that we really enjoyed our meal. They are known far and wide for their scones and they did not disappoint. Think of them as sopapillas but better!! Their honey butter is to die for! (No pun intended)

As we were eating Charlotte told us about a woman spirit in the women’s bathroom who was sad and heard crying. They believe she is a woman who lost her child to drowning a few streets behind the restaurant years ago. The bathroom at first seems just like any average bathroom and then a little melancholy sets in and it seems to affect the emotions a little and for some a lot. Those who are empathic are impacted more so than those who aren’t. There is also a dark spirit that Zach from the Ghost Adventures tried to agitate from the men’s bathroom. The dark spirit allegedly scratched a visitor on one of the ghost tours the family offers. As far as the episode with Zach commanding the dark spirit to show itself, the likelihood of the dark spirit actually scratching him shown in the episode is pretty unlikely. But those ratings always need a little boost!

132

We followed Charlotte into another room that used to be a bar but is now used for parties etc. It was really heavy and to me housed most of the spirits that were connected through the illegal gambling which happened down in the basement many years ago. Charlotte said they were able to get the spirits to turn on and off flashlights. She also said that during a voicebox session two names came through, Peter and Henry. Henry for some reason messes with the electronics and they think that Peter is the one talking to them through the flashlight.

166

The family was told that at any given time they have more than a hundred spirits coming in and out of the restaurant, hanging out or communicating with people. My thoughts on this particular room is that the spirits from the illegal gambling days moved there from down below because the Indians who’s burial ground was inharmoniously defiled are hostile to anyone wanting to stay down there. 168

I also heard there was a vortex in the restaurant and sensed where I thought it was by the party room. There is a bathroom adjacent to the party room with a brick wall painted a dark brown or reddish in color and I asked Charlotte if there used to be a doorway there. She said, “No.”

It wasn’t so much a doorway to me but an opening and then it hit me that this was where the vortex is located. You could actually feel the spirits coming in and out through the wall. It made sense to me because the room seemed to be full of spirits that were all talking at the same time, like actually being in a bar or gambling room. At times it felt as if the room was beyond capacity in spirits.

169

Next we went down to the basement but to get there Charlotte had to open up a wooden door from the floor that once opened revealed steps going down into a very dark room. Stepping into the room was like stepping into an Indian campground. It was like I was at one of the Pueblos back home only this time was with departed spirits. They weren’t happy and I must say that the basement was kind of a mess with things piled in different corners that had been there for years.

145

I knew immediately why the spirits were upset. Imagine a place where your loved ones were once buried and all of a sudden, someone comes along and builds a structure over their gravesites.

143

I was greeted by a young Native American who was shirtless, wearing leather pants with long black hair and a small pouch hanging from his neck. I didn’t see a mark on him where a bullet hole would be so I got the impression that perhaps he didn’t die from a gunshot wound. I think he got sick and died from some type of consumption. All in all there were 7 spirits down there that were unhappy. There could have been more but that is who came through to me. They were very unhappy with the mess over their gravesites. I think that the dark spirit that scratched the visitor in the men’s bathroom was probably one of the Native American spirits in the basement. 152

I told Charlotte that if they cleaned it up and paid homage to the spirits who were buried there, that the energy would be lighter, better and they would be happier. I suggested a Remembering Blessing that the family members could do to appease the spirits and let them know they are not forgotten. To be forgotten for many of us is worse than death but if you are dead, feeling no one cares or knows about your plight, it could be a prison of inconsequence.

Amy Allan from the Dead Files commented that Leslie would need representatives from many religions to do a ceremony to help appease the spirits at the restaurant. Leslie told me on the phone it was basically impossible and I agree with her. To advise this is a set up for failure. How can anybody possibly do this? Not many people have the time or ability to find such a large group.

146

What I feel needs to be done is simpler. A Medicine Man from the Ute tribe and a Bishop from the Mormon faith need to come and do a Blessing of the Spirits. An intermediary such as an empath or healer who is not from either group would stand between the Bishop and Medicine Man. From the Medicine man I see a pouch of prayers being offered. From the Bishop a written Blessing. If both representatives could do the ceremony, the hostility would dissipate and there would be a lighter feeling down in the basement and throughout the restaurant. Remembering the Dead once a year is a good way to let them know they are not forgotten.

At the end of our tour, we said good-bye to Charlotte and felt we had just made a new friend. To Leslie and her family, we would like to thank you for your gracious hospitality and to the spirits of Leslie’s Family Tree Restaurant, rest assured, you are not forgotten.

167

27 January 2016 0 Comments

Part 2.

God's Voice

Here are my thoughts on what I believe the two aspects of hearing voices are about.

“A haunted voice is just memories replaying through the doorways of the mind. There are no locks on the doors so walking through a residual thought is just like playing the reruns of a personal existence, whether it be your own or someone else’s.”

“The intelligent voice plays upon the secretive inclinations of the emotional state along with original thoughts, owned by each person. The intelligent voice takes words out of context and confuses the intent of sentences with alien concepts not original to the person in question.”

The difference between the haunted voice and that which is placed within the mind, is the intelligence behind it. A weak echo can’t answer anyone back but an intelligent voice can play havoc with the mind. Understanding these two concepts was vital in me healing from the fear of worrying about schizophrenia or mental illness. Our minds are more powerful than any one is willing to admit, especially those that prey on real or invented diagnosis to make a buck.

Let’s look at what really happens when an intelligent voice occurs.

One day I was sitting at my desk getting ready to write some choreography text for students. All of a sudden out of the blue and literally in my head, I heard a man and woman converse over what they were going to say to me. I think they forgot somehow that the switch was turned ON and I could hear everything they were saying to each other. I looked at my speakers and thought, “Are they on”? I checked and they weren’t. I looked at my computer to see if I was on the internet without knowing it but I wasn’t. I had actually just sat down to work and hadn’t been on the computer for hours. But the really weird thing was, they were in my head, not outside of me. It was like I had speakers in my head.

It was the one and only time I can remember this kind of thing happening and I laughed outloud, telling them that I didn’t have time for their BS and that I had work to do. Even though I could still hear them, (and yes, they heard me because I heard them become baffled as to the fact that I could hear them,) I focused on what I love to do which is create choreography and their voices literally became whispers and finally within about 10 minutes, they were gone. All that I had in my mind was my creative thoughts. I learned that day that focusing on something else was a great way to dispel the voices. They can’t compete with how our brains function to our own commands. I also rerouted my attention to right and left brain choreography because I work with both sides of the body continuously so creating moves, counting out combinations and steps, outmatched their voices. It didn’t occur to me to be afraid, I was more annoyed at the fact they invaded my body and mind which to me was a total violation of privacy.

Intelligent voice

Spirits, Entities, Unknown Beings or Cryptids talk to me but when they speak, they speak more so at me even though it’s in my head. Sometimes I have heard them in the room with me but most of the time, they will speak directly to my mind. This kind of intelligent voice can feel strange at first but it can be blocked which makes it less invasive. I think as an Empath, the green light is always on for chance communication. We are like a beacon, open day or night, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Since I’ve learned to live with this from childhood, I don’t mind asking if communication can happen another day if I don’t want to engage in a conversation at that moment. Also, I’ll block what I don’t want to deal with especially if it’s someone or something I feel is dangerous. Believe me when I say, sometimes with what’s literally out there, I want to be able to block undesirable company .

Adding to the intelligent voice phenomenon, it’s important to know that sometimes entities or deities will wonder within the mind to see what lies hidden, what is feared and what as mortals is our Achilles heel. It’s important to know that whatever information they find is only as important as we make it.

The Voice of Self

There is one aspect to being human that I think is amazing, a true gift that we have at our fingertips which is the knowledge of the innerself. We have thousands upon thousands of years at our fingertips and all we have to do is listen to our gut, our God Connection. A majority of our lives is like living in the dark ages because we live without ever knowing we have this inner source of wealth and knowledge. Mass media, entertainment, politics, and I must include religion here, all want to mediate for us, only allowing a minute amount of information out, literally a drop at a time. We are already created with the ability to access whatever we need, we only need to believe in this and know that our questions are already answered many times over if only we listen to our inner voice, hearing the whisper of the Universe and Gods infinite wisdom.

3 June 2015 0 Comments

Five Ghosts and a House Hunt

ghost image

I was in Salt Lake City over the weekend and my fiancee and we were house searching for our future home there. It’s a beautiful city and like all cities there are places where spirits hang out. So on this trip we met five ghosts in one house we were looking at. As we walked into the house, there was a feeling like we were walking through a spider web and strange psychic veil. We had to blink several times to remove the feeling. The lighting inside was darker than expected with minimum coverings on the window, almost like there was some screening over the windows. Spirits like it darker than live humans. The bedrooms were depressingly dark.

My fiancee, who is a powerful empath, noticed the smell of the spirits which is similar to an earthy, damp, dark, after-life smell. She encountered the first spirit in the kitchen, she was a female in her middle 30’s to early 40s, blonde and young feeling who seemed to hang out mostly in the kitchen. She had not died in the house so we don’t know how she got there. Next in the basement she encountered the other four spirits. One of them had a grandpa feeling, as my fiancee walked deeper into the basement, she met the leader of the group. He was a young aggressive male, died in his late 20’s of TB or some other consuming disease. He was a very unhappy soul. This young male was about 5‘10” blonde hair and gave off a powerful feeling, that felt like he didn’t want us there. My fiancee suddenly got pressure (a strong headache) on the top her head and chest pressure. She got the impression that if a person was alone, down in the basement, they could be locked in with unimaginable scary things coming at them or done to them.

The other male and female in the house gave off a presence but no other identifiable traits, except they were both controlled by the aggressive male. So you probably guessed we didn’t take the house. There would be times a ghost or two in your house would not be a problem, for it is very possible to co-exist with them. They can even be good house-sitters when you are away, and no harm would come to the house, for it is their home also.

Sleep tight, if you have a Casper, you can always sleep in peace.
MWiz.

7 November 2014 0 Comments

The Spirits of McGavock Confederate Cemetery

Carnton plantation 2

This is a fitting story to share with all of you during Fall and the beginning of Winter. It’s a new tale, fresh with a mixed brew of emotions and haunting whispers. It is one story I thought I would never tell only because my experiences with ghosts have never been with the Civil War, only the old west towns of my home state, New Mexico and those along my travels as a cowgirl.

Sometimes spirits reach out to those who can feel them, hear them and relay the replays of life that went on years past. They whisper the echoes of torment, languishing pain and the truth of how death does not end their soul’s convictions…it only prolongs the outcome of their inevitable actions, if such have the fallacy of intolerance.

What wayward souls can not comprehend, they cannot see and because of this, they cannot rest.

With this being said, I will now share with you the story of my travels with my sister Holly, to Carnton Plantation just a few minutes from Franklin, Tennessee where the Battle of Franklin took place in November 30, 1864.

Just a mere two weeks ago, I went to Nashville to visit my sister and to enjoy the southern hospitality she is known for. My sister is a fabulous cook, the hostess with the mostess in all aspects of making anyone feel right at home. The area where she lives is not too far from the town of Franklin, a place that oozes with the shadowy memoirs of a sorrowful past. I realized the moment Holly took me through this beautiful town; I was literally thrust back in time, no time machine needed here because the surroundings emulated old Southern pride. It’s a déjà vu kind of feeling but as a Yankee, it felt a little unnerving. The architecture through out the town with the churches and homes held within their walls the echoes of people running, yelling, and the distant thunder of gun fire. It was still in the air and I could feel the emotions with every fiber of my being. Holly and I are empaths, we feel places and with this ability we can smell the flowery aromas of perfume or the trepidation and stench of death. This ability is in our family, it’s in our blood.

The day after traveling through the striking town of Franklin, Holly somehow without forethought but I’m pretty sure, pure intuition, drove right by the Carnton Plantation as if planned and on queue. She said she had never been there before and was quite surprised to have driven by there on our way to another plantation. We decided immediately that we were destined to go to this one instead. The land seemed to whisper secrets through the car windows to us and then there seemed to be an urgency to our summoning. As Holly turned the car around, we almost went down a one way road the wrong way. It was a bit confusing at first but interestingly enough that confusion never left us even as we drove up the one lane road. We could see that this plantation was not only massive but obviously an important historical landmark. As we drove into the parking lot, the house sat back behind what looked like a large barn and to our right was a cemetery that had huge headstones peaking out from the iron fence.

With my persuasion, we first went to the cemetery because it was up on a hill and I wanted to look around and see the vast green land that encircled the cemetery. Holly stated she had reservations about entering the cemetery but like a trouper, she ventured forward with me. There seemed to be an odd feeling that almost felt like we had walked into a bubble or a time warp from the past. The air was different, birds crowed and yelled down at us and we both felt the immediate sense of sadness and the traumatic demise of all the soldiers within the cemetery. There are nearly 1,500 Confederate soldiers buried at the cemetery who were casualties of the Battle of Franklin. Carrie Winder McGavock was in charge of the soldiers brought to Carnton which was to become the largest field hospital in the area for the wounded. There were at least 150 Confederate soldiers who died that first night at Carnton from the battle. There are still blood stains on the floorboards of the main house to this day.

When we entered the cemetery none of this information was known to us. We understood the severity of what all the men had gone through because we could feel it in our bones. It was with this emotion, this connection that the first communication with some of the spirits of the cemetery started to happen.

I heard a mans voice say softly to me, “How is Elizabeth?”

Wait a minute; I went…no, he said Lizbett. I thought I must have gotten the name wrong but when he said it again, he said it more forcefully and I knew for sure he was saying the name Lizbett. I told him I was sorry that I didn’t know her. I asked my sister if that was a Southern name and she said she thought so.

We walked through the main entrance and Holly said she didn’t feel right, she almost felt like she didn’t want to go forward. I had trepidations myself but I walked a little ways past the family gravestones to the entrance to where the Confederate soldiers were buried. Holly walked with me and we immediately stepped to our left, looking at the first of granite markers. We saw two copper pennies on top of two markers and we both wondered what the significance of that was. It was at this very moment that a young mans voice came to me, talking in my right ear and in my head, stating that he had died of a gun shot wound and he wanted to show me where he was shot. I didn’t want to know but he didn’t let up and upon hearing him say, “I got shot in my stomach,” I felt the first stinging pains in my own stomach right where my belly button is. I told Holly my stomach hurt and when we turned to face the dirt path that went down the middle of the markers, we did an about face and left the cemetery. It was just too much.

This young soldier would not let up. It was imperative for him that he tell me what happened to him. I finally acquiesced, letting him know I would listen.

He started from the moment he was shot. He said he was down for about an hour. It hurt like hell and he didn’t think at the time it was something he would die from. He knew men were down around him but he thought if he could get help, he would be alright.

He knew he was bleeding out and he tried to calm himself down waiting for help to come. He was only 19 or maybe 20, young, full of hope, not really understanding the gravity of his situation. When help did arrive, he felt he would be taken on a stretcher and he would live to fight another day. There were three men, two carrying a stretcher and the other man checking wounds. They talked to him for a few minutes, looked at his wound and with grave faces told him there was nothing they could do for him. They were under orders to take and carry only those wounded that could be saved. They gave him his death sentence. He never saw it coming just like he never saw the bullet that hit him. He said he lay there for about three to four hours before he died. He couldn’t believe they left him and for him, the fact they did leave him was worse then getting shot. He felt alone when he died. I think this is why sometimes he’s not sure he’s dead. His memory stays within the confines of the bullet that brought him down. It’s an eternal pain that he shared with me, not just a physical one.

Carnton Plantation

By the time he finished telling me his story, my stomach was burning and I felt as if my insides were on fire. The pressure on my stomach was intense; it was as if I literally had an opening gash that was bleeding out.

Holly and I entered the gift shop by the barn area and when we walked in, we both thought for a minute we might fall down from weak and shaky legs. I couldn’t really focus on any one item except for a book on Carnton. I felt like I should buy it but for some reason I didn’t. We decided to make a hasty departure to the car because neither one of us was feeling or doing well. I was bent over at this point from the pain in my stomach and Holly had a headache that was growing in intensity by the minute. The Carnton house was out of the question. Neither of us wanted to take the tour.

As I climbed into the car, from my right ear, I distinctly heard an angry male voice that seemed to be in his mid 40s to early 50’s. Discretion Advised! (Please understand that this is what I heard and not how I talk. I debated whether I should state what I heard and I feel it’s only right to write exactly what I heard.)

He said, “God Damn (N word)! Nobody is gonna tell me what I do with my property!”

I said, “Oh my God, Holly, you won’t believe what I just heard.” I then proceeded to tell her, word for word. She shook her head and said it was time for us to go. I was in shock and couldn’t believe the intense animosity coming from the male voice who spoke in my right ear. That kind of talk is just plain wrong and I found myself feeling disgusted at hearing it.

Holly drove down the one lane road exiting the plantation and it wasn’t until we were on the main road and driving away that we both started to feel better. For a minute we just looked at each other. Words were beyond us.

As a woman of the west, I must admit that I came back home with a tangled web of emotions. I had no idea the Civil War was fought in so many areas where my sister lives. I had no idea the mindset of the South lives on. Most of all, I had no idea how sad I would feel about the loss of life. It’s an intense feeling of sorrow with a raw edginess to it.

There is one thing for sure that I do know and that is that death makes every man and every woman equal because in the eyes of death,our humanity is all the same. What makes us individuals is our sense of self when we die. For these men of the Franklin Battle, they were comrades in arms and I think it’s this unity that keeps them there. They stay because of each other and they stay because in the end, they don’t seem to know the Battle of Franklin is over.