Happy Halloween
As printed in the 10/20/2010 Blue Island Forum
by Jude Coyle
If you read my Halloween story last year, you'll remember that I spent a day with two Blue Island born and bred sensitives, whom I called Crystal and Faith. Along with Ursula Bielski, a WDDE film crew, representatives from the FORUM, the Chamber of Commerce, the Library and the City, we visited homes that were reported to be haunted. It was an incredible experience with wonderfully perceptive individuals, and an eyeopener to say the least.
Another young lady joined us at the end of the day. Where she didn't appear in the film, she offered some insight. Her name is Candi, and I know her because she belongs to an organization that my family belongs to. At Christmas time particularly, we work to help the less fortunate enjoy a good meal, gifts and clothing at what can be a painful time of the year.
Candi was in kindergarten when she first joined her brothers during the Boy Scout Food Drives. She passed out fliers and later picked food off of porches. Over the years she's sought out volunteers and organized food drives at her schools. And now that she's out of school, she continues to help.
Candi is a psychic photographer. Both she and I have taken to carrying a digital camera, partly because I need it for work, and partly because she used it to take some really unique photos. I don't know how many times she'd point and tell me to take a photo of a bush, a door, or even a fence post. I'd do it, giving into her fancy, as I would indulge a spoiled child. Only when downloading the memory card, I'd find a shot of a huge orb. “I just felt him watching me,” she'd say as the hair follicles on my arms stood up. Other times, she would just show up at my door with creepy photos she took all over town. One is a shot of several faces constructed of mist.
I should point out that paranormal investigators use digital photos as corroborating evidence and not as the evidence itself. They will pick up dust and water vapor in the air, and unless Candi can eliminate those things, she won't declare it to be proof of anything.
Now Faith is an integral part of our group. If you haven't guessed by now, this is a story of something that happened last Christmas.
Each year, an area realtor provides us with work space. Last year we worked out of a food processing plant, which must have been empty for quite some time as our directors spent many long hours cleaning. In spite of that it was still dusty.
There was a huge factory floor, with equipment still in place. We stacked clothing and canned goods along the walls and between the equipment. There was a lunchroom, a sales office with cubicles, and a couple of executive offices. The outer offices were painted bright, lime green, and was basically empty except for some beat up office furniture. We called it Santa's Wonderland. New toys were stacked on tables, waiting to be wrapped, while the cubicles held wrapped gifts.
The big hauncho had once occupied the last office. It was still occupied by a wrap around desk and credenza. Except for a thick layer of dust, it looked as if the owner had just gotten up to refill his coffee. Framed product labels hung on the walls, and sales propaganda, photos and trophies adorned the furniture. The walls had been painted the color of orange juice.
After dropping off several food drives, I asked Candi to please organize a work crew to sort our haul into boxes by kind. She and her brothers drafted their friends, including one young man I'll call Sal. Sal is also sensitive.
We had barely started working when Candi declared, “There's someone in here.”
“Excuse me?”
“A spirit or something.” She took off with Sal at her heels.
A few minutes later Sal returned. “Candi wants you.”
I followed him into Santa's Workshop, and past stacks of wrapped and unwrapped gifts.
“There's someone here,” Candi assured me when I entered the orange juice colored room. She nudged Sal, who agreed wholeheartedly. I nodded and left to get my camera.
Once she had it, she snapped away. Finally she lowered it and turned to leave. “You know,” she said, “That desk is really cool. I wonder if anyone would notice if I figured out how to sneak it out of here. I really like it.” She stopped suddenly and turned on Sal and I. “Oh my God. Someone just kicked me in the shin!” It wasn't us. We weren't even that close.
That night I downloaded her photos, and sure enough, huge orbs saturated every photo. “It's too dusty.” she reminded me. In her eyes it wasn't enough to prove what she saw and felt.
Well, vindication comes in unusual ways. A week or so later I dropped in to visit with the Boss. We discussed our schedules, volunteers, and the amount of work still to be done. I mentioned Candi and described our experiences in the back office. “Oh, my God!” the Boss exclaimed. “That was Candi?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You know Faith, right?”
“Faith, the sensitive? Sure. Why?”
“She was wrapping presents in Santa's Wonderland. She said that there was someone in that back office. He told her that no one was going to take his desk!”
Next month I hope to bring you another story. Faith, Crystal and Candi are going to visit the home of a resident, and report on what they see. And, with luck, we'll bring you more stories in the future. Faith commented that she would enjoy spending alone time in some public buildings in town. Hopefully we'll have that to look forward to as well.
