Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side

by Barbara Parks

  until they were no longer recognisable.

  It seems the bitter old woman was satisfied with their fate,

  preferring to see her items destroyed rather than in the hands of others. There were no further disturbances after this day.

  Austin had only one other negative experience, this one

  instigated by his daughter fooling around with a Ouija Board.

  The phone rang just a little after 1 am. Austin could barely

  make out the voice of his stricken daughter, as she tried to

  speak through her hysterical sobs. She was absolutely terrified, that was apparent, but it took much calming and cajoling to

  ascertain why.

  Austin’s heart sank as the facts came to light. His daugh-

  ter and her friends had spent the evening playing with a Ouija board, and had unleashed a throng of angry ghosts who were

  at that very moment clawing at the walls. Austin could hear

  his daughter’s friends screaming in the background. He had to

  move quickly.

  His daughter told him that there were demons peering in

  at the windows. She could barely get the words out.

  “Just keep praying!” said Austin. “I’m on my way …”

  Thankfully his daughter lived just a couple of suburbs

  away, so he was soon banging on her front door. The young-

  190 Austin

  sters screamed, not realising it was their rescuer and not an

  evil entity demanding entry.

  Austin told me that the sense of negativity and evil was

  overwhelming, he was in no doubt that the group had opened

  the door to low-vibrational entities and that they had firmly

  taken hold. He felt their resistance as he wandered through

  the apartment, repeating the same prayer through each room

  as he sent them to the light.

  It was daylight by the time the energy lifted and thankfully

  other than the legacy of deeply ingrained fear, there were no further repercussions. Needless to say Austin’s daughter had

  a stern talking to, as a minister’s daughter she should have

  known better!

  Austin tells me that his church fields countless phone calls

  each week from people who believe they have evil entities in

  their homes, and many of these arrive via a Ouija board invi-

  tation. What to many begins as a bit of light-hearted fun

  often ends as their greatest nightmare, and Austin can’t stress enough the dangers of experimenting with the unknown.

  In most instances these entities can be moved on with a

  house cleansing and dedicated prayer. But there are some enti-

  ties who steadfastly refuse to budge, so of course it’s best not to invite them into your home in the first place!

  There are safe ways to establish spirit contact, and in inex-

  perienced hands, the Ouija board is certainly not one of them.

  Protective rituals and prayers need to be in place and only then can we safely breach the divide between the spirit world and

  our own.

  Austin’s parting invitation to his church’s Open Circle was all the encouragement I needed, as I was well and truly ready

  to take the next step. The circle was scheduled for the follow-Austin 191

  ing evening, and there was no doubt in my mind that I would

  be there. If I had seen two spirits just by chatting in Austin’s office, what would I see during the circle?

  The next day couldn’t come quickly enough. I couldn’t

  wait to find out.

  My cousin, Anita and I arrived at the Spiritualist Church

  an hour before the circle was due to begin, as we were keen

  to gauge the atmosphere before the meditation. Austin wel-

  comed us warmly, and showed us a photograph of the long-

  dead Mrs Perkins, a faded framed portrait which sat on top

  of the organ. There was also a brass bust of the church’s

  esteemed spiritual teacher, and the inanimate Mrs Perkins

  seemed to preside over the proceedings from the corner of the

  room.

  Thirty or so chairs were arranged in a large circle and Aus-

  tin invited us to choose a seat. It wasn’t long before we were ushered into a small anteroom for healing, to ensure we were

  at our most spiritually receptive before the session began.

  As each person walked into the church, the routine was

  the same. They would share a brief exchange with Austin, be

  invited into the small healing room, and then resume their

  position within the circle. By the time eight o’clock arrived

  every seat was taken.

  The main lights were turned off and the only source of

  illumination came from a solitary blue light globe hanging in

  the corner of the room (just above Mrs Perkins’ portrait, giv-

  ing her an eerie, otherworldly glow.)

  The atmosphere was befittingly spooky and for a brief

  moment I felt vulnerable and exposed. This was starting to

  feel very much like a séance, and the warning spiel prior to the start of the meditation unsettled me all the more.

  192 Austin

  A gentleman named Phill was to lead the meditation, and

  his sombre warning verged on the alarming.

  “If you are threatened in any shape or form, or if some-

  one tries to take over your body, immediately envelop yourself in Christ’s golden light. Cross your arms and ankles. Demand

  that they leave. You may notice people’s faces changing in

  the darkness, and see the spirits gathering around them. Take

  note of what you see and at the conclusion of the meditation

  you will be invited to describe the entities you have encoun-

  tered …”

  Phill then led the congregation in prayer, firstly inviting us to join him in the Lord’s Prayer, after which we said a prayer of protection. The circle was ready to begin.

  The meditation was not at all what I had imagined.

  Rather than being guided through a group mediation as I had

  expected, Phill simply told us we were at Safety Bay Beach and to enjoy the experience. He left us to our own devices and said he’d be back for us later .

  Just as we began to fall into the depths of our subcon-

  scious, a woman to my left began to cough violently (she later told us that she felt as though an entity had been trying to

  strangle her …) She stood from her position in the circle and

  began to leave, upon which the stillness was abruptly shat-

  tered.

  “Sit down!” yelled Phill. “Never get out of your seat! It’s

  dangerous to break the circle!”

  “For God’s sake!” muttered Austin under his breath,

  appalled that someone had broken the cardinal sin of circle-

  sitting.

  “Just stay in your seat,” repeated Phill slightly more calmly, as the chastened woman sheepishly resumed her chair. I had

  Austin 193

  no doubt that had the lights been brighter we’d have seen her

  cheeks blazing with mortification. Perhaps ungraciously I later wondered whether her evil entity story was concocted to extricate herself from her embarrassing situation.

  We were once again encouraged to breathe deeply and

  Phill asked us to return to the tranquillity of Safety Bay Beach.

  At first I tried to comply with Phill’s instructions, and

  imagined myself bobbing in a brilliant, sun-sparkled ocean.

  But as my relaxation deepened and I began to feel presences

  around me, I couldn’t help opening my eyes to scan the room.

  The blue-lit
darkness was perfect, just bright enough to

  see the circle of people around me. The spirits glowed iridescently around the sitters, some in between and some behind.

  They were calming, benevolent presences and I closed my eyes

  again and fell deeper into trance.

  It wasn’t long before I felt my right hand being grasped, at

  first lightly and then more firmly. My hand began to tingle. I then felt as though there was energy wrapping itself around

  it. It was hard to work out whether my hand had found itself

  in a spiralling energy vortex, or whether something was being

  wound around the hand itself. It was like a buzzing sensation

  systematically wrapping itself around my hand, increasing in

  intensity with every revolution.

  Of course I had to open my eyes again to look. Who was

  touching my hand? Seeing no one, I stole a quick glance across the room, my eyes drawn to the inanimate bust of Mrs Perkins. A

  pale green glow emanated from her likeness, until there beside the bust floated the form of Mrs Perkins herself!

  Any doubts as to the identity of the floating spirit were dis-

  sipated when one of the sitters later began conveying mes-

  sages from Mrs Perkins, and I wondered whether the woman

  194 Austin

  had also seen the greenish mist materialise into the form of

  the church’s long-dead mentor. But still lacking confidence in sharing my visions I just sat listening to the experiences of others, silently comparing them to my own.

  I did however mention the winding, buzzing sensation

  which was still affecting my right hand, hopeful that someone

  could possibly shed some light on the strange phenomena that

  I was at a loss to understand.

  Anita also experienced a strange sensation, as what felt like

  a strong hand pressed firmly on her right shoulder.

  At the conclusion of the meditation, Austin asked if any-

  one had any messages they would like to share. I was singled

  out several times, and received a mosaic of descriptions which fit the profile of my late grandmother. She was described as a homebody; someone who would regale us with witty one-lin-ers which often seemed at odds with her old-school traditions.

  Her love of cooking defined her, as did her talent for crochet and needlework, all of which were mentioned on the night.

  Since I had often felt the presence of Baka ( especially when I’m cooking or listening to Croatian Folk music) I wasn’t at all surprised to hear she was around me.

  I was however delighted when Austin offered further con-

  firmation of Baka’s presence, by telling Anita that the spirit in between us was her grandmother too. Anita didn’t doubt him

  for a second, knowing that the protective hand on her shoul-

  der could belong to none other than her beloved grandmother.

  I wondered if it had been Baka who had been holding and

  radiating energy into my right hand.

  By the time we got home Anita and I felt exhausted but

  happy. Nothing particularly earth-shattering had occurred

  (and indeed the validations of Baka’s presence may well have

  Austin 195

  been little more than lucky guesses) but the physical sensa-

  tions we experienced reminded us that something inexplica-

  ble had transpired. We would be doing ourselves an injustice

  to dismiss them without investigating further. So with that,

  we decided to attend the circle at least one more time, to give Baka the opportunity to convince us all the more.

  As we sat reminiscing about our late grandmother, Anita

  reminded me of something I had completely forgotten about

  (or perhaps I never knew at all.)

  “You know Baka was absolutely obsessed with boxing and

  wrestling, don’t you?” she said.

  “Really? “I laughed.

  “Oh yeah,” said Anita. “She’d be glued to it for hours!”

  I suddenly thought of the large flashing light which unwav-

  eringly appears in our TV room whenever Stu and our friend,

  Dean watch the Ultimate Fighter Competition. As soon as I thought of it, I was flushed with the unmistakable conviction that the light is connected to Baka.

  I’ve often commented on the bright flashes which appear

  on fight night. Since they are usually positioned beside Dean, I had always thought that the spirit lights must have belonged to his guide. But now I think otherwise, and the next time UFC

  screens, I’ll be ready with my camera, asking if Baka would

  like to appear in my photo!

  hapter twenty-two

  G h o s t l y G u a r d i a n s

  When I reflect on my most frightening paranormal encoun-

  ters, I wonder if I’ve misconstrued the attentions of some

  ghosts as sinister, when in fact, there was a more benevolent

  motivation at play.

  I have come across numerous accounts whereby peo-

  ple have imagined themselves to be victimised by unwanted

  ghostly attention, when in reality, the spirit was trying to protect or warn them.

  This was certainly the case with a lady named Tracey,

  whose unsettling visitations were a concerned ghost’s way of

  delivering a timely warning.

  Tracey works as a critic for a local newspaper, and we

  became acquainted through my publicity campaign for my

  first book, In the Presence of Spirits. What began as a professional relationship quickly progressed to a friendship, as

  Tracey and I discovered we were kindred souls with a predi-

  lection for the paranormal. It wasn’t long before Tracey told

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  198 Ghostly Guardians

  me about some of her own encounters with spirits, the most

  memorable of which happened when she was just fourteen

  years old.

  Together with her mother and younger sister, Tracey

  moved into a gracious, two-storey Queenslander, just a twenty

  minute drive from Brisbane. Although there was a palpable

  presence in their new home, the family did not find the energy threatening. In fact, the house felt welcoming and somehow

  familiar, to the point where the two girls made instant bee-

  lines for the bedrooms they would occupy. There was no

  hesitation and no arguments, it was as though there was no

  question as to where the girls belonged.

  Another advantage of the Woodridge home was that it

  housed a granny flat. This was the perfect arrangement for

  Tracey’s single mother, who happily ensconced her mother in

  the downstairs apartment.

  Tracey tells me that it wasn’t long before she suspected

  that the house was haunted, and was particularly sensitive to

  a wandering presence at night. Her bedroom sat right beside

  the staircase, and she repetitively heard footsteps marching up and down the stairs. Uncomprehendingly, she also heard the

  clatter of the front door being secured with a chain. This was most bizarre, as the door didn’t have a chain at all, just a simple, single-key lock.

  Night after night, the routine was the same; Tracey heard

  footsteps on the stairs followed by the jangling, non-existent chain.

  When Tracey questioned her grandmother, the elderly

  woman was quick to assure her that she had no desire or inten-

  tion of running up and down the staircase! Nor had she ever

  Ghostly Guardians 199

  done so. And even if she had, there was still no explanation for the sound of the invisible door chain.

/>   After several nights of the inexplicable noises, Tracey

  began to feel increasingly unsettled.

  “I began to freak out!” she told me. The presence began to

  dominate Tracey’s nights and rob her of her sleep. “I begged

  my mother to help, but she didn’t know how. She had no idea

  what to do. Maybe she thought I was just being a silly teen-

  ager!”

  Then one night it dawned on her, that just maybe, the vis-

  its could be some kind of warning. Perhaps the ghost wanted a chain on the door … maybe there had been one there in the past.

  By now, Tracey was so rattled by it all, that anything was

  worth a try. She spoke to her mother and insisted that she

  install a chain. Immediately!

  Being a single, working mother, the last thing she wanted

  to do was traipse around during her lunch hour trying to pro-

  cure a door chain; but Tracey was insistent. Her mother had

  little choice but to give in to her daughter’s wishes, it seemed the only way to calm her down.

  By the time her mother came home that evening, Tracey

  was bouncing with nervous energy. She insisted that the

  lock be installed at once. Although probably hindering more

  than helping, Tracey tried to assist in the installation process.

  (All the while cautious not to annoy her already exasperated

  mother!)

  Later that night, Tracey fell asleep easily, confident that she had experienced the last of the troubling visitations. Little did she know that she was soon to be roused by something much

  louder and infinitely more disturbing.

  200 Ghostly Guardians

  The household was awoken sometime after midnight; by

  an almighty banging coming from the front door. Somebody

  was trying to force it open, but it was mercifully holding fast thanks to the newly-installed chain.

  Terrified, Tracey peered out of her bedroom window, and

  was horrified by what she saw. A naked man wearing only

  shoes and socks, was determinedly trying to get in. Worst of

  all, he was holding a knife in his hand. Tracey screamed for her mother.

  Meanwhile, the intruder gave up on the front door and

  bolted around the back. Moments later, the petrified family

  could hear him banging and shaking the back door, trying his

  best to get in.

  Tracey’s mother wasted no time in calling the police. She

  returned to the window a moment later, just in time to see the man dash into the next door neighbours’ backyard.