I
was sitting in the bar at the Menger Hotel right across the street
from the Alamo, where Davy Crockett and his men had given their
lives in the fight for Texas.
It
seems the hotel... was... how shall I put this?... it was... gulp...HAUNTED!
The
bar was dim and cluttered with the noise of a roomful of people
all speaking at the same time, while the drunks talked louder and
louder. It was not quite midnight when I took another sip of my
whiskey sour.
As
I looked up HE was standing there in front of me. He looked me in
the eye and smiled. No one had to tell me who he or "it"
was.
The
floor overhead creaked. I cringed and moved over a chair. The other
drinkers didn't seem afraid. What was wrong with these people? SANTA
ANNA was standing right there. We locked eyes for a moment, then
he smiled at me and walked away to terrorize some other unsuspecting
bar patron.
"Do
ghosts drink?" I thought. "Do they even have a stomach?
Can a ghost even lift up a 'real glass'?"
To
calm my nerves I gulped down the rest of my drink and strained my
ears to eavesdrop on the other conversations around me. Then I head
it... THE WORD... the word spun through the air as everyone was
talking about tomorrow... tomorrow and the.... the reenactment.
Reenactment?
"Santa
Anna wasn't REALLY a ghost?"
He
was just one of them... an actor?
I
expelled a breath of relief BUT also a small sigh of disappointment.
My first encounter with a ghost... AND he wasn't even a ghost.
Then
a crazy thought passed through my mind, "What if HE wasn't
THE actor? What if HE was THE ghost?" Could anyone really be
sure?
From
across the room, Santa Anna looked over at me and winked.
Whether
or not Santa Anna was real, I knew that there were 33 ghosts in
that hotel according to the book. One of those ghosts lived at the
end of the long hallway near my room. Every time I went to get some
ice, I stared down that corridor searching for the ghost who walked
right through the closed door at the end of the hall.
GHOST
OR TIME WARP?
I
was very interested when I noticed that someone proposed a counter
thought about ghosts. "Could a ghost be a time warp?"
they asked.
In
that context then, a man walking through a door seemed perfectly
reasonable. If people were experiencing different time frames, then
a person could pass through a door without opening it. After all,
to them, the door was open (in some other time).
This
explanation set off fireworks in my brain.
I
can't say that I remember ever meeting a ghost, but I have experienced
what I shall refer to as "time warps."
WITNESSING
A TIME WARP: THE FARMERS
On
this one particular day, as I sat reading in my living room, I heard
the sound of an object falling. It caught my attention and I jerked
around to see what had happened.
It
turned out to be only a book falling over... nothing important...
and yet... it was something... something really, really big.
The
objective of the falling book seemed to have been to attract my
attention. As I looked over at the bookcase I saw a group of people
standing there. I think they were as surprised to see me as I was
to see them. I could tell by their dress that they were from a different
period of time... some older period. They were perhaps farmers standing
in an open field.
I
had to wonder, "Did these people step momentarily into my time
frame from another era?" I was not used to seeing farmers hoeing
in my living room. They were not supposed to be there, they should
not have existed at all.
One
of the women stopped her work, looked up, and stared directly into
my eyes, but made no sound. It was a silent experience. I knew she
was there and she knew I was there. But where?
I
shall describe what I saw as weak, see-through images. But I saw
enough to know that I was looking at a group of people from the
past. People who had probably lived on the spot where I was living
now.
The
farmers and I were in the same 3D world, but in a different dimension
of time. We stood at the same latitude and longitude, but the fourth
dimension of time was somehow different. Time crossed, and we all
stood on the same spot, they in their field and me in my living
room.
I
knew they were there and I could tell that they knew I was there.
I wondered what they thought when they found themselves farming
in the middle of my living room.
We
watched each other for awhile and then they disappeared. I never
saw them again. I think I could have reconnected if I wanted to,
but I have never tried. Someday maybe, I will say hello again. My
psychic mind still knows the coordinates to make it all happen.
If I simply shift in that direction, I should be able to see the
farmers again.
Some people experiencing the same event might have been frightened
by the sudden appearance of people from a different dimension suddenly
appearing in their house and knocking over a book. I had been doing
psychic experiments for so long, it didn't scare me. It just seemed...
well... interesting. I simply recorded the event in my psychic notebook
and got on with life.
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