I will start with my own experience. It's only fair now isn't it. Well, last July, I visited Lincolnshire, England staying with my friend Debbie Jenner. I was there for four days and the first two days went on beautifully no strange noises, no weird sounds nothing. The third night, I went to bed as usual in the upstairs bedroom right next to Debbie and her gorgeous cocker spaniel Molly. You know that feeling when you are in a deep sleep and you feel something softly touching your chest area between your neck and collarbone? Well, in my sleep I felt soft touches around that area, not rough at all. Just enough touches to bring me out of a deep sleep. I was alone in bed in that room. I opened my eyes, the digital clock said, 1:30 a.m. I sat up and looked to my right against the wall next to my bed stood an older aged woman dressed in a top and pants looked as from this era not another century at all. She was not exactly solid but not thin or smoky in form either. She was solid enough I could make out her features. Her mouth was moving quickly but I could not hear a voice, at the same time her hand extended pointing a finger at me in a "go away" motion! She was not happy I was in that room. I was half asleep and not feeling threatened or as if she would hurt me but scared enough my first reaction was to put out both my hands in front me palms up toward her while saying loudly, "no no no!" Immediately after that she literally disappeared before my eyes. I thought for sure Debbie would have heard me or Molly would start barking but nothing. I went back to sleep and when I woke up later I went downstairs said good morning to Debbie and said, "Do you know you have a ghost?" I stayed one last night as I was leaving that next morning to drive to the Isle of Wight. I can happily report nothing else happened. I did say before bed something to the effect, "I mean no harm and I only mean to come with love as it is so beautiful here." I slept well, woke as usual and got ready for my teary goodbyes. I would stay with Debbie again, if she would ever have me back!
To learn a bit more visit her website, Tennysons Birthplace
Just after 2am one morning I was suddenly woken by a rustling sound. I was convinced that someone had just rushed past my bed. It was dark in the room so I couldn’t see anything but the illuminated face of the clock on the bedside table. The air was perfumed with a sweet floral scent that was not at all unpleasant, so I turned on the light and went across the room to the huge windows that opened up onto the garden. I thought that the lovely smell must be coming from the plants growing just outside the window, so throwing them open I leaned out to discover that the smell was definitely not coming from the garden. Turning back into the room, the scent had almost faded, the air was warm and I was left with a calming feeling.
It was not at all a frightening experience but it was strange. I am certain it was not a vivid dream or my over active imagination. I have never experienced anything like this before or since.
My friend Heather and her husband Mike joined me. He had recently lost his father to cancer and was hoping to contact him. We rented rooms in one of the quaint private guest homes and found ourselves among a group of spiritual insight training students led by a trained medium and Spiritualist minister named Candy.
The grounds of Lily Dale were breathtaking. There was lush vegetation, an old growth forest, the beauty of the lake, and charming 1940’s style houses and cottages. Readings were available at the Forest Temple and Inspiration Stump, as well as a service in the Healing Temple. As we walked the grounds and took supper in the outdoor pagoda, we felt the energy of the place and wondered where this day would take us.
Night fell and we returned to our lodging. As the evening wore on, we talked with Candy’s students Felicia and Lester and established a rapport. Soon, midnight was approaching and we were invited to join them for a trip to Leolyn Woods to visit Inspiration Stump in the dark.
What was the significance of the Stump, we wondered? Candy explained that it was the site of some of the most profound spiritual energy in all of Lily Dale. It was not unusual for visitors to the Stump to experience a strong sense of heightened awareness, profound peace, and receive messages from the beyond. Were we interested? Of course!
Armed with a few flashlights, we headed towards Leolyn Woods. There were six of us; Candy, Felicia, Lester, Heather, Mike, and myself. We entered the forest with a sense of excitement, passed a spooky old pet cemetery, and found the Stump in a grove surrounded by magnificent old trees.
Candy explained that in this place, mediums had been passing messages from Spirit to others since 1898. The Stump at one time had been a tree around which children had gathered and levitated.
She led the group in some energy work and encouraged us to stand on the stump. One by one, we felt the pull towards the middle and the feeling of being in some kind of vortex.
Heather came down from the Stump and claimed that she felt a persistent tugging on her right sleeve, like someone was trying to get her attention. She was pretty freaked out by it, especially when she started to experience shifting in her peripheral vision on the left side.
Lester snapped Polaroid pictures off and on using a flash, even though it was dark.
Heather panicked and begged us to return to the guest house. On the way back, she was ice cold, even though it was a hot night. The number nine kept coming at her, and she told everyone so. Leaving Leolyn Woods, the shifting in her vision reoccurred and she turned to see a dark-haired boy who she thought to be nine, bare-chested and barefooted, wearing old fashioned dark brown and green checkered shorts, rather worn.
She felt a dull aching pain in his left temple, and realized that he had a hurting wound there. Instinctively she knew that he woke up on the shore with that wound, only to see a canoe flopping in the water.
As we neared the guest house, she had a vision of him sitting in a canoe watching the back of another boy’s head in front of him. He looked over his shoulder at the shoreline. At that point, she said that it was ‘like his eyes were her eyes’. He scanned the shore and saw an old house with a shed attached and a three wheel tricycle, rather old fashioned looking. She experienced his panic as he heard choking behind him. The canoe was wooden, dark reddish-brown, and small, for two people only.
We went into the guest house and tried to get her to settle down. She turned and screamed, saying that she saw the child at the top of the stairs. He was speaking to her but his lips were not moving. Only his expressions were changing. He was repeating that the year is 48, and saying Ryan, Ryan, Ryan with a deep sadness. She couldn’t tell if it was a last or first name or the name of the victim or friend.
The last part of it came as a vision of a boy floating face down in the water, his red shirt like a bubble on top of the water. Her impression was that the boy was telling her that his friend drowned and relayed sadness and remorse. He was sorry for his part in it. Then he left her alone.
Some interesting facts…
Heather is not a trained medium or student, just a visitor to Lilydale who tagged along with this group. She did not invite this communication and wishes that it never happened. She says that John Edward can keep his job.
Other people who went with her that night got impressions of the color red, deep sadness, and saw a point of light on her right sleeve at the Stump when she said that her sleeve was being tugged. The camera also captured this. They recorded her experience on paper as she was relaying it.
We visited the museum the next morning and described her vision to the curators. We learned that over the years there had been many drownings on that lake, although this specific one wasn’t recorded.
Years later, we still wonder what it was all about. Why would that spirit want to contact us and relay that heart wrenching confession? Could it be that a man who recently died needed to return to the scene and tell the real story? We checked with local newspapers and historical societies, but we never found an answer.
The spirit appears to be at rest.