Long time, no blog.

It has been a busy time in my neck of the paranormal woods for the last few months.  Bravo Paranormal has a great project in the works.  We even got a Halloween fluff piece produced on the local news.   We have the ship aimed in the right direction; with some hope and a lot of luck, we can bring our method of investigation to the masses. 

This blog will continue to serve as a way for me to talk about some of the more unusual things I run across in the paranormal field.  I want to provoke thought.  My goal is to invite discussion of things paranormal.  I want to spark interest in the previously uninterested.  I want to bring the ultimate question to the forefront, and show some of the results we have obtained in seeking answers to that question.

The question is, “Does the human soul continue to exist in some manner upon the death of the physical body?”  This is what guides our research.  It is the bold words written across the top of the legal pad, underlined, and underlined again for good measure.  It is the question that got us to stop spending countless hours in “haunted” locations, capturing EVP’s, and calling it a night.

I want to know who is speaking the words that frequently and predictably show up on my recordings.

Rule #1–always carry the recorder and headphones with you at all times.  I learned this the hard way in photography, and in paranormal research.

So I am going to dinner last Sunday night.  Grabbin’ some pho, at my favorite pho place.   And Greenville avenue is barricaded at 6PM.  I look past the barricades and see a wrecked motorcycle in the center lane, with two police cars beside it.  And the ominous orange spray paint trail leading to the wreckage.  We know what that means, and instantly the opportunity to do some research presents itself.  Someone’s soul left this plane in the VERY recent past about 100 yards from where I am parked.  So I proceed to record for about 3 minutes. I get out of my truck, and walk past a police detective interrogating two groups of people, presumably involved in the fatal accident.  I go to dinner and grab a window seat. 

I pull out my book “Mad Man in Waco” about David Koresh and the Branch Davidians.  I pulled this book out of the stack because April 19th is the 20th Anniversary of the apocalyptic fire, and I wanted to relive the story.  But I find it increasingly hard to read; I am instead drawn to observing the human reaction to what happened in the street in front of me.  Most of the reaction consists of the slow driver craning his neck to get a view.  A girl grabs her cell phone and starts snapping pictues of the bike carcass in the street.  I am immediately taken back by this; is this behavior a product of this instantaneous socitey that we live in?  Is there this urgent need to document everything as it happens?  Even when someone loses their life?  Is this in a sense what my paranormal group is doing?   The thought of it upsets me.

As I looked closer, I began to realize that a fatal traffic accident requires a lot of people doing their jobs, in a professional manner, somewhat oblivious to the stark reality of what just ocurred.   The police have to direct the traffic, question the witnesses, spray paint the trajectory and final resting place of the vehicle, coordinate the entire scene.  The tow truck driver comes to pick up the remains of the vehicles and clean the scene so that the road can get back to being a road as quickly as possible. And before I got there, the ambulance driver had to take the deceased to the morgue.  And once this is all done, and all evidence, save the orange spray paint, is removed from the scene, it is back to the usual.  And then I hit record on my recorder and ask the question that guides our research.  Hopefully, I can start a dialogue with the soul of the departed and find out a little more of what happens at the moment that life as we know it in this plane comes to an end.  This is macabre work, no doubt.  But I am not ashamed of it.

In the same way a medical examiner conducts an autopsy to find out what caused death, I am trying to pick up from the point of death and press forward.  Only my research does not require me to probe the physical body.  I simply ask questions into the ether, and hope to be able to use my ability to understand what the responses are.  And try to connect a puzzle piece to the adjacent one, while staring at a pile of a thousand pieces.



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