Friday, August 08, 2014

The Third Person in the Hotel Room With Us

A friend of mine with interest in the paranormal asked me to go into greater detail about my ghostly encounter on our trip. Here it is. I have researched the name I got and found the person. They died about a year ago and were buried next door to the hotel.

My experiences with the paranormal are the main thing that keep me from going full-bore atheist. I've just seen and experienced too much from the other side not to believe there is ultimate good and ultimate evil out there.


We'd spent the night in a pretty average hotel in Bluefield, Virginia, a town crammed in that southwest part of Virginia that touches coal country in West Virginia and is a stone's throw from Kentucky. A Comfort Inn, newly remodeled, and crammed to the gills with people.

Instead of going out for dinner Jim and I went for a brief swim in the pool behind the hotel. Lots of people, kids, noise, splashing and booze. Not my kind of scene so I went right back to the room after a few minutes in the tiny pool. On the looming mountainside behind the hotel I saw a herd of deer as I walked back to my room. Took a shower, checked emails and went to bed.

Didn't realize at that time that our room was a mere 40 feet from a large cemetery dating back to Civil War times. Saw this the next morning.

Let me preface my story by telling you that I've always seen and heard from dead people, ever since I was three years old and saw a Civil War soldier brandishing a sword in front of our house in Birmingham, Alabama. My dad worked for a year in the early sixties for a finance company in Birmingham. My parents did not believe me, they were quick to tell me I'd been dreaming. But I hadn't. I remember that man still very clearly over fifty years later.

And it didn't stop there. The dead will appear to me at the oddest times. I never go looking for them, but I've been in a local Civil War museum and had Colonel Hooker appear and tell me that he's hopping mad his name is used as slang for prostitutes. I've seen/heard/talked to dead folks for a long time. Most of the time they seem merely determined for someone, anyone to acknowledge their presence.

I think my son sees the dead too but he has started to deny it and turn a blind eye to it. One night we were out driving home from a bigger city after midnight and both saw the same thing, a small squad of men in Civil War uniforms emerging from the woods in the light of our car headlights and we both said, “Did you see that!” and talked about it all night. Now his mind is closed to it because he believes only in rationality and intellect. He has chosen to tune out.

I envy him the ability to tune it out because I can't always do that. A weekend in Galveston, Texas was horrifying because I could not tune it out and hundreds of the dead appeared to me that weekend in my early twenties. I had no knowledge at the time that a hurricane had roared through Galveston back in 1905 and killed over ten thousand people on the island. I kept seeing them everywhere. Now I know why and avoid places with high death counts from traumatic events.

Back to the night of Saturday, July 26, 2014. I felt nothing in that bland hotel room and since I've left the world of Christian Evangelicalism Mysticism I did not do my old ritual, anoint the room with oil and tell anything spiritual not good and not straight from God to scram. I did nothing like that, I didn't open my Bible, I didn't pray a prayer of protection. Plugged in both lap tops and cell phones into the desk at the foot of my bed.

Because the reservation had been for double beds since their rooms with a king sized bed were booked my husband Jim and I did like we always do when traveling and confronted with double beds. I took the bed on the left and he took the bed on the right, the same sides we always sleep on. I climbed into bed around 10 pm and immediately fell asleep. Long day and I was tired.

Around midnight I awoke with a start, I'd heard a voice and someone had sat down on my bed. I lay perfectly still but whoever was on the bed would move occasionally and started tugging the covers over my leg or tapping my leg.

I'd awoken with the same physical symptoms I always get in the presence of the paranormal, sick to my stomach with pounding head and belly pains. I get that way whenever I'm in a high EMF (electrical) field.

Have to admit I was sort of pissed off. Here I am, on vacation, and some dead person is bugging me. I turned over, determined to do like Andy my son and turn it off. Didn't happen. The more I tried to ignore this being the more it was determined to attract my attention. It increased tapping my leg, pulling on the covers and moving around the bed.

Finally after an hour of trying to ignore this thing and sleep, switching positions, moving into the bathroom and an attempt to get into the bed with Jim I gave up. Started talking to the being.

He gave me his name, first name Shawn, very insistent that it was Shawn, spelled that way. I got a last name too. In his 30s-40s, middle aged, open honest looking face but in terrible pain to the left hip and ribs. I saw that he'd been stabbed or shot in a fight in the parking lot of a local bar. No witnesses and no one had been arrested for his murder. I saw him, I saw the man that stabbed.shot him very clearly.

I asked him a couple of times what he wanted, did he know he was dead, why was he telling me this. He seemed to only want me to hear him, acknowledge his presence, his life and death. It mattered to him that someone know the truth. After that he faded, left the room and my headache, stomach ache and nausea stopped cold.

It took me quite some time after he left to get to sleep. Checking the lap tops and cells at the foot of the bed even if they'd been charging about three hours at that point the batteries had been completely drained. That explained to me how he managed to get enough energy together to manifest so fully and wake me up.

The next morning during breakfast I saw the graveyard. Went out and walked around but I didn't have time to look at every grave. Didn't see a grave for a Shawn. I also asked the hotel clerks if there had been any reports of the paranormal in our room 209. She said no.

When we got home I did some searching in crime reports, newspapers in that area with the names he'd given me and found him. He'd been stabbed and died a few days later at the local hospital without gaining consciousness while surrounded by his family. I saw a photo of him in his obituary and it's the same guy I saw.

I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with the information because I don't want to be contacting the cops in that town and be treated like a flaming crackpot. What I'm considering doing is contacting the family. The family names were listed in the obit and I looked them up, finding a mailing address. I'm thinking about writing them and letting them know what he said about his killer and they can pass it on to the police or not.

After that I've gone back to blessing and anointing my hotel rooms again. I hate functioning on that little sleep for any reason.

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