F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction (New Weird) Author

To Be Human

UFO Watchtower…Revisited

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UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado, June 28, 2014
UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado, June 28, 2014

Well, this is kinda funny.

This past weekend I’d posted about the UFO Watchtower, a place I’d visited about once a year since 2005, then hadn’t been to for a couple years. I’d talked of trying to make my way down there this year, for certain. Well, no sooner had I posted that post, when my wife says, “Do you wanna go today?”

I’d never even considered it, and had, in fact, been looking to head down there in a couple weeks.

I looked outside.

Mow the lawn and yard work, standard weekend chores…or a fun, spontaneous road trip?

We day-packed the car, made our hotel reservation, and sped out about an hour-and-a-half later.

There’s nothing like a road trip…heading out on the open road, leaving the cares and chores of everyday life for asphalt (or concrete) and rolling scenery. It was a gorgeous Saturday. Blue, sunny skies, mid-to-upper eighties. We only ran into one glitch, with a temporary delay just south of Colorado City. A pickup truck and it’s camper had flipped and gone off the Interstate. As we’d approached, I’d seen the Flight-for-Life chopper heading north, low, off to the right of us. The accident had happened before we’d driven by, so we didn’t have much of a delay. Was a heck of an accident, but, so far, both people have survived. The truck ended up pointing north, but was on the southbound side of the Interstate. Must have been quite the flip. Was sad to see so many personal effects scattered about, like a cat carrier (what happened to the cat?), clothes, and any of the standard items people take with them on vacation, spread out alongside the road. We wish them well.

It did take us a little over 3 hours to get to the Alamosa area. We had to eat, but the restaurant we frequented while there, Dos Rios,

UFO Enchilada, Calvillos Restaurant, Alamosa
UFO Enchilada, Calvillos Restaurant, Alamosa

had been bought out and renamed, so we went to Calvillos, instead. We’d been there before, and the food was great. The maître d’ was extremely attentive.

Of course, I had to have the “UFO Enchiladas.”

We then backtracked and took a left on Highway 17, up to the UFO Watchtower.

Well, though it’d been a few years, turns out not much had changed. We did find that the green alien sign that had been on the right side of Highway 17 was no longer there. Those (Judy Messoline, owner and operator of The UFO Watchtower, had later told us), had been removed at the behest of the Colorado DOT. It had all been part of the Lady Bird Johnson Beautify America “act” years ago. No advertising billboards in non-industrial areas—even though Judy owns the land upon which said billboards resided. Apparently when land has a road bisecting it, you cannot put up any signs that advertise and tell drivers to “turn here.” Okay, I get that. This stretch of Highway 17 isn’t busy, so drivers can (and probably do) simply stop and backup to see the signs at her entrance. Makes for a good story….

Anyway, the road to turn left on, off of Highway 17 into the Watchtower, indeed remains a dirt road. Once off Highway 17, Judy has her little alien directional signs to the Watchtower, and most things there remain the same. The Garden is much more packed with visitor trinkets. Once section was of particular note, given I’m a writer: there were tons of pens and pencils jammed into the earth (I’d meant to take a picture of that, but got sidetracked, so never did…).

Judy isn’t smoking as much anymore, and, in fact, never lit one up once, while we were there. She says she no longer smokes as much, and is actually using e-cigarettes now. But her patio table and chairs remain outside, under the Watchtower’s mesh platform, and she still has several dogs, one of which was there when we’d last visited. Another she’d lost to an illness, if I remember right. Had a couple new ones.

Judy Messoline, Owner/Operator, UFO Watchtower
Judy Messoline, Owner/Operator, UFO Watchtower

And, Judy remains as friendly and outgoing as ever!

Judy’s gift shop is a little more sparse. She no longer has her horses or cattle. Too expensive to care for, et cetera, so she had to let them go to someone who could give them adequate care and attention. All I could think was the same applied to her gift shop. Things are just more expensive now, is all. She showed me some new additions to her notebook on strange incidents, like how one visitor took pictures of the The Garden, her pictures had shown orbs in them…her camera had malfunctioned (actually stopped working)…and when she’d returned home, The Garden pictures had disappeared from her camera. Okay. As you can see, below, my picture remained…and no orbs. Inneresting, as my Man With No Name character would say….

Another funny thing happened: while as I was setting up my books for consignment in Judy’s gift shop, from behind me I heard someone hail me by name. I turn around, and it’s Ron Cree, a writer friend of mine. Of all places to meet someone who actually knows me…it’s usually my wife who runs into people she knows, since she was essentially raised in Colorado (an early transplant)! I haven’t seen Ron in some two years, since the last writer’s conference I’d attended (and he mentioned he hadn’t seen me at the last one). He and his friend had been on a road trip, and were heading north. So we chatted a bit, took some pictures, and off they returned to their road trip. On his way out, Ron had gone back to his car to fetch something for The Garden. On his return he called to me to show me what he thought would be perfect for him to leave as a “Garden gift”: a writer’s conference pen. We both chuckled, and he stuck it in the ground, by one of the so-called “vortex centers.” Was good seeing ya, Ron! He mentioned he’d just sent his next novel manuscript to his agent. Be on the look-out for that. He writes for young adults, but mostly 30-something women seem to like reading his work.

It was cool finally “delivering” on my promise to give Judy a copy of ERO…and to leave a few (signed!) copies behind for

The Garden, from Atop Watchtower
The Garden, from Atop Watchtower

consignment, and some ERO business cards. I also left copies of Sleepwalkers and The Uninvited. Be interesting to see how they do, especially given her upcoming UFO Conference, July 26th and 27th. One thing we forgot to do was sign in at the gift shop’s register, dang it.

As we hung out at the watchtower, I was up on the platform, just hanging out, when I see this “interesting” bird fly low, over the tops of the brush, some distance out from us. I grab my binoculars, and home in on it…and find a whole parliament of ground owls! I counted seven! And they were so funny, the lot of them just hanging out at this one location, just messing around with each other, hopping on and of brush, branches, and each other! So, we figured, they must have been young ones. One of them seemed larger, probably the mom. We didn’t have any “long lenses,” just our little digital camera, which took far better pictures than I’d expected,given the distance, even if blurry. But, maybe the photos were blurry for a reason? Were they really ground owls…or “screen memories”…memory images (or photographs…?) of aliens replaced by something familiar or perhaps friendly (owls or deer are typical screen memories of aliens). We watched them for quite a while, it was the coolest thing!

But, alas, no UFO sightings.

We had a great time talking with Judy, and a couple other visitors who stopped by while we were there, but come around 7 p.m., she had to part company.

Ground Owls...or "Screen Memory" Aliens Keeping Watch....
Ground Owls…or “Screen Memory” Aliens Keeping Watch….

We then drove to Monte Vista, to The Best Western Movie Manor hotel we always stay at. The rooms are named after movie stars, and we stayed in room 102, this time, the “Paul Newman” room. The movies were Dragon 2 and Transformers. From within the hotel rooms, you can only see one of the screens, and the one we could watch was Dragon 2. Didn’t do anything for me, so only watched part of it before calling it a night. That didn’t keep us from getting some popcorn and (for me) a hotdog, though. This really is a unique hotel…there’s no other like it that I’m aware of in the US, anyway. Do check it out if you can! You can call ahead to see what movies are playing, and if you want to see the other screen, you can hop in your car and drive in to the other one, for free. We love drive-ins, and do try to make at least one drive-in a summer. When we had our dog, Mac, and our truck (and the local drive-in that is now a Wal-Mart…), we used to back into the drive-in slot, and all pile into the truck bed, blankets and sleeping bags and watch in the open air! So, try to support you local drive-ins, if you can!

So, the trip was fun, not much had changed, and it was good seeing Judy (and Ron!) again. If you’re ever “in the neighborhood, do make a trip down to Hooper-way, and tell them we sent ya!

By the way, as I post this, it is the 67th anniversary of the Roswell Incident, July 1-4, 1947. Again, I hadn’t planned this. Funny how it all happened, though. Synchronicity.

Blanca Peak. Only Thing I Saw Disappear Into It Was Melting Snow....
Blanca Peak. Only Thing I Saw Disappear Into It Was Melting Snow….

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UFO Watchtower

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UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado, c. 2005
UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado, c. 2005

The place, 2 1/2 miles north of Hooper, Colorado (about 40 minutes north of Alamosa, Colorado).

The mission?

Well, the mission is similar in scope to the  likes of Area 51 or the Marfa Lights Viewing Area. Located in Saguache County, Colorado, in the heart of the San Luis Valley—where all the “weird shit” one hears about in Colorado originates (e.g., cattle mutilation, UFO sightings)—is this interesting little destination run by Judy Messoline, called the UFO Watchtower.

Near as I can tell, my wife and I made our first excursion there back in July 23, 2005, the same year Judy’s book, That Crazy Lady Down The Road, came out. I forgot about how or when I’d first been made aware of the Watchtower, but once I’d heard about it—and the Best Western Movie Manor hotel, with its own drive-in theater you can watch and listen to from your hotel room—I had to go there.100_0328

Alamosa, Colorado is located about 3 hours southwest of Colorado Springs, west of the Great Sand Dunes National Monument (also a great place to visit!). When you hit the town of Alamosa (if you take the I-25/Highway 160 route), you take a right on Highway 17, and head north. About 22 1/2 miles later, just north of Hooper, Colorado, you might see (if it’s still there), off on the right, after you past the Colorado Gators Reptile Park (I told  you, this is an interesting place, didn’t I?), a little green alien waving at you (I can’t remember if we’d been told the little guy had been stolen or not, but, in any event, it used to be there…). A half-mile later, you’ll take that left (on our first trip there, my wife had played the X-Files soundtrack, as we pulled up to the place; it was surprisingly—or not so surprisingly—apropos to the mood!). You’ll be able to see the Watchtower from the road at that point. Out in the middle of your average, everyday Colorado plains. You’ll then follow a side road (I think it was a dirt road when we last went) around to the right, veering away from the campground entrance off on the left, and end up in the little dirt parking lot. If Judy’s not immediately there, she’ll eventually catch up, maybe like she did with us, in her golf cart, with her “little friend.”

100_0337Judy runs this little “bubble” gift shop hut, in which she sells all manner of book, posters, and fun “alien and paranormal stuff.” It’s beneath the UFO Watchtower, and the dome-shaped structure fits perfectly in-line with the location’s mission: to promote and observe extraterrestrial phenomena.

And hold stimulation conversations on the patio, beneath the Watchtower.

Along with Judy’s campground is a bed & breakfast, which should have already begun taking reservations (see site). In front of her watchtower is a place, called “The Garden,” which she built in 2002 (again, see the site, and click on “The Garden” link under the “Must See Tower Links”; she has a lot going on at her website, so check it out). The Garden, we are told, is the center of a cosmic vortex…but I have never seen this vortex that others have claimed to see. That’s cool. We all have our superpowers.

Entry to the Watchtower used to be free, with a requested donation (which we always paid), but I now see that she charges a mandatory $2 to enter. Judy (when not doing her chores and all) usually sits out there with any guests and shoots the breeze, as she smokes her cigarettes, her dogs milling about. In the past, she’d occasionally put out cookies or some kind of munchies. She’s very easy to get along with and will chat with you about near anything. I think on our last trip down there, a fiddlist friend of hers, from up Denver way, had her instrument out and played a tune or two for us—then later showed me some basic violin handling. It was fun…sitting out on the plains during that summer, listening to our own private, little concert, then getting a private, mini-violin lesson!

It was also on our first trip there, back in 2005, after we’d left the Watchtower, that we stopped at a couple of locations, in Hooper,

UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado
UFO Watchtower, Hooper, Colorado

and asked around about any strange activity people might have seen. Besides the personal interest in things-paranormal, I was getting ready to begin work on my novel, ERO, so I’d come down here to do what UFO research I could, in my own “backyard,” so to speak. And, surprisingly (or not so surprisingly), we found everyone we talked to open and eager to share their stories of seeing strange things in the San Luis Valley skies. The strangest of these was from one lady who told us of a great-great-grandmother who’d seen a hovering craft flying around over Blanca Peak, to the east of Hooper. It had been above the mountain…then descended down and into the top of it.

Yes, great-great-grandmother. Who’d seen this in the late 1800’s.

Over the next five or so years, we’d gone back to the Watchtower about once a year, and I’d given Judy progress reports on how my UFO novel had been coming along. We had some interesting conversations, about things she’d seen, things others had seen. UFO speculation. Conspiracy theories. You know the drill. She showed me some cool pictures, books, and other things in her gift shop, and I bought an item or two. It has been several years since those annual pilgrimages, and with this year, we hope to make another. I’ve sent Judy a copy of ERO, but have only just done so (am kinda embarrassed I hadn’t earlier—I thought I had, but it had just gotten lost in all the “paperwork” of life…).  Be interesting to talk with her about it, once she’s read it….

That Crazy Lady Down The Road (Judy Messoline, © 2005)
That Crazy Lady Down The Road (Judy Messoline, © 2005)

Now, every year, for I don’t know how long, Judy also hosts a UFO Conference. This year’s conference is July 26th and 27th. On her site is a brochure that can be checked out. The hyperlink is cute. Or, again, check out her Facebook link. She also hosts annual UFO Watches,and has had members of MUFON in attendance.

As mentioned, Judy has also written a book. It’s about her life and the creation of the UFO Watchtower. She discusses what brought her down to the Hooper area, the creation of the watchtower and its “garden,” and of course, aliens abductees, and sightings. I’d read it years ago, and made for interesting reading. Some of the info in there makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, even if you’ve read it elsewhere. It all still makes you think, and will make for great conversation fodder!

Judy and her Watchtower have even been featured on the Travel Channel (2011), with Alejandro Rojas, as well as other interviews. She seems very busy, and in demand, for having been pegged…”That crazy lady down the road….”

Check out Judy’s Facebook  page. She may also be contacted at 719/378-2296, or by e-mail, at ufowatchtower “at” yahoo.com.

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The Ring

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Have You Seen The Disappearing Rings Act? (image from Jeff Belmonte from Cuiabá, Brazil [Flickr], CC-BY-2.0, http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)
Have You Seen The Disappearing Rings Act? (image from Jeff Belmonte from Cuiabá, Brazil [Flickr], CC-BY-2.0, http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)
Years ago, in our previous house, I’d lost my wedding ring.

I hadn’t lost it in your normal sense of the word nor consideration. No, “lost” isn’t exactly what’d happened.

“Disappeared,” is actually more accurate.

I had removed my wedding ring in the bathroom, this day, and placed it in the top drawer of the sink’s vanity unit. I did whatever I was doing, then later came back to the same drawer and went to put it back on—but it wasn’t there. I rummaged through everything, still couldn’t find it. I’m thinking, WTF? I put it right here.

But it wasn’t. There.

I stared blankly and in horror at that damned vanity drawer.

“Yeah, honey, heh-heh, you’ll never believe what happened. See, I took off my wedding ring, and it, heh-heh, disappeared….”

I removed everything from not only that top drawer, but also all the rest of the three or four drawers. Dumped everything out, and went through each individual item in my hands. Shined a flashlight in around all four corners of each drawer. There was a plastic baggie or two with items in them. I removed each item, held them in my hands, and emptied the baggies. No ring. I ran my hand through each plastic baggie, because I’ve seen too many horror and paranormal movies not to. Ran my hands around the insides of each drawer. Removed each drawer, turned them upside down and shook them out.

No ring.

I replaced everything as it was.

Searched the rest of the house. Asked my wife if she’s moved or seen my ring—nope.

Ask my dog and two cats. Nope—but did I maybe want to throw things around and go for a walk, my dog asked?

Went on about my life for a day or so, or however long it’d been.

Then, sometime later, I went into that bathroom to get something out of that top drawer—and out pops something that “pinged” on the floor. I looked.

My wedding ring.

Incredulous, I picked it up and held it up before my eyes.

There it was, in all its glory! For real!

I’d looked high and low, removed everything from all the drawers and ran my hands on or my eyes over every square centimeter of all the drawers and items within those drawers, and it was not there.

Yet, out it had just popped, from the very drawer in which I had, indeed, placed it.

When I write my novels and short stories, I do frequently place stuff that has really happened in my life into my stories. This happened years before my disappearing grape. In my soon-to-be-released novel, Psychic, I have my protagonist, Lizzie Gordon, also deal with a similarly misplaced ring of her own. Weird shit like this does happen to me every now and then. I can’t explain it, but it keeps my life interesting. Fun. Pay attention to the weird shit that happens in your lives. Acknowledge it. Don’t have to be able to explain it.

Hopefully, it’s fun, like mine.

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The Ghost Inside My Child

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“Airplane Crash! Plane On Fire! Little Man Can’t Get Out!”

I read about James Leininger (now, a full-fledged Eagle Scout teenager) years ago (around 2000, or so), when the story about the young two-year-old reincarnated from the downed WWII pilot, James M. Huston, Jr, first came out, and have been following his progress ever since. Read the book, Soul Survivor,  his folks published.  The other two stories of reincarnated children on this video are new, and I’d never heard of them before but are just as riveting. I don’t want to say anything about them, so you can enjoy the discovery on your own, in the above, 41-minute video, which was just posted on the Leininger blog.

Not shown in this video, because it’s about children, is another pretty incredible story, involving Jenny Cockell. I highly recommend checking out her and her books, one of which is titled, Across Time And Death, A Mother’s Search For Her Past Life Children.

The thing about reincarnation is that everyone does it. It’s not just those who’ve died nasty deaths…but those who have died nasty deaths are probably more apt to recall past lives, because the circumstances had been so horrible upon their deaths. I’ve also read that some souls, upon death, immediately turn around and jump back into physical life—that doesn’t mean they’re reborn in the same year, that next second, but that they just don’t take any time to “relax” or assimilate their deaths…and jump right back into physical reality in whatever time period they chose (and in James’s case, he describes a little about that briefly in Soul Survivor…about how he, essentially, “floated around” for a period of time looking for the right parents, and observed them for a little before choosing them—note, I said choose).

And, as you watch the above video, consider this…those personalities who have reincarnated into our time? They were also reincarnated in their lives.

Ever consider that?

We all “reincarnate” throughout all our lives, in that (in my humble opinion) we all live multiple—and simultaneous—lives. Life is far too intricate and wondrous to be limited to one, single life. We all have far too much to learn, and we just can’t fit it into one life. I’ve talked about this before in other posts.

It’s disheartening that situations like these arise and the parents involved are not equipped to deal with them. Need to “make it better” or can’t “fix” it. There’s nothing to fix…only to understand. And in understanding, it’s not about the previous personality taking over the current one’s life. It’s simply a matter of understanding what’s happening, fully addressing it, helping the child understand…but also understanding that your life is yours…not anyone else’s…not even that previous personality’s. One should not be worried about a child talking about “another mother”…or that that “other mother” will take over your affections. Don’t you see this can be Daisy-chained ever farther backward, with each previous person’s reincarnational lineage? To everyone? What matters is your present life. What matters is you as a parent or uncle or friend schooling the children with these memories that it’s okay and natural to have them. It is…but you’re in a new place now, those memories cannot really hurt you. Children cry and wail for all kinds of reasons, and we soothe them. Sooth them, here, too. I know there haven’t been tools or guidelines out—until recently—on how to deal with this kind of behavior, but with an open mind and a little research you can understand what’s going on through venues like this, books like Soul Survivor, and so many others. A past life does not have to take control of your child…reliving its memory is one thing, and is healthy to the greater understanding of who we are, why we behave as we do…why we’re afraid of flying, or water, or have  a penchant for music, alcohol, or wide, open plains and Mongolian barbeques. We need to understand these things, not stomp them down into our unconsciousnesses, where they will never really go away, but breed and fester and somehow manifest into symptoms we can never truly understand and end up medicating for the rest of our lives.

Reincarnation also shows how we are all so intimately connected.

Maybe a parent in one life is our spouse or child in another. It should give us a far greater appreciation of each other, that we are all not that different, no, not at all, not even all that separated from each other, no matter that we live on different sides of the planet. That death is not permanent. Life situations are not permanent. That our souls actually do survive beyond death and that, hey, here’s a shocker, we not only choose the lives we live…but also our parents…our family members.

Reincarnational memories usually happen before six years of age, usually around ages 2 or 3. For many, these memories eventually fade after 6 years of age…unless one makes an effort to keep them. I have one instance when I was about six years of age that involved the Civil War, but have had other feelings and predispositions, like an interest in B-17s.  The problem with getting these later is that they’re more filtered by your current life’s beliefs and minutiae, so the memories are not as fully developed, not as complete.

Don’t let reincarnational memories frighten. Be smart about them and learn from them. Be open to them…and be open to your children about them. If you think children can’t handle them, consider what they’re already going through…what they’ve been through in a previous life. Be a parent and guide them through it. If they’re already talking about “my other mother,” describing gruesome death scenes, it’s probably a pretty sure bet they can handle the conversation you control. It’s probably a pretty sure bet that all the good you tell them they can handle. If you don’t understand it, tell them you’re not sure, but together you will both find out what it is, what’s going on, and explore what your child is trying to tell you…but that memories cannot hurt them. Ignoring them, stomping them down can.

Be a parent.

Apply the same techniques you would with any other situation that children are having a hard time with, or are afraid of. Just don’t ignore it. There’s so much to learn and grow from.

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The Boy Who Was Brave

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We all to have die sometime of something.

This may sound flippant, cruel, or heartless to some (especially given what I’m about to discuss), but it is a simple truth and not meant coldly. Most of us probably hope our deaths will be quiet and painless…or, perhaps at least in service to some greater good. We all more or less expect to die at a “right” time, after we’ve lived a full life…and those with children certainly never expect for them to go first….

Why do we have to die?

Why do some die horribly?

Why do some act heroically while others are victims?

These are powerful questions for which few have answers…or those who claim to have answers tend to be part of organizations that truck in the metaphysical (I include religions, here, because I’m using “metaphysical” in the broadest of senses). Nothing wrong with that. How else do you expect to find such answers, in real, everyday life, since most of us don’t take the “obvious” as answers, and “obvious” means different things to different people? Many of us are searching for answers to all the “whys” in Life, one of the biggest and hairiest of which is…why death.

Why?

But, no matter what we think we see, we experience, what if the answer to the Why of Death is that there really is no death?

Jesse McCord Lewis’s story is heart-wrenching. I haven’t read the book, only the RD article, but the article (and some Internet research) tells the story of six year old who acted older than his perceived six years of life should have allowed him to…and saved lives.

Jesse’s December 12, 2012 day, in Newton, Connecticut, started like any other day at the Lewis household, according to his mother, Scarlett Lewis. Scarlett woke Jesse up with song and kisses until he giggled. Jesse’s father, Neil, “arrived” (divorced, separated, shift worker…?) to take Jesse to school. It was a sunny morning, and frost coated the car. As Scarlett said her good-byes, she’d found “I love you” scratched into the frost on the car, and Jesse standing there, smiling up at her (she took a picture of it). But, when Neil dropped off Jesse at school (inside the school’s hallway, in a crouched position, I have to assume), Jesse turned to his father, put his hands on his father’s shoulders, and said: “I just want you to know it’s gonna be OK. I love you and Mom.”

Jesse turned and left for his first-grade classroom.

Scarlett tells us that Jesse, only four feet tall, was “born brave,” never shied away from challenges, always had a ready grin (interesting choice of words—not a “smile,” but a grin…). Possessed a “warrior’s heart” and was “an old soul” (another interesting choice of words). He also had a “favorite camouflage helmet.”

Scarlett tells us that when the first blasts of automatic gunfire opened up at Sandy Hook Elementary, there were reports that Jesse didn’t run, and more so, that he stayed by the side of his first-grade teacher, Miss Soto, whom he loved.

The gunman, whose name was Adam Lanza, entered their classroom and opened fire, killing Miss Soto. Survivor reports say that Jesse ended up with a head wound, did not flee, stayed on his feet…and faced the gunman…who ended up pausing to either reload or deal with a weapon’s issue (okay, weird synchronicity, here: as I’m initially writing this, on Dec 31st, about 4:47 a.m., on my iTunes radio the very instant I’d been working on this section was playing a Shinedown song, called “Second Chance.” I paused it when I heard the following: “Tell my mother, tell my father/I’ve done the best I can/To make them realize/This is my life/I hope they understand/I’m not angry, I’m just saying/Sometimes goodbye is a second chance…”; click here are the rest of “Second Chance’s” lyrics). It was in this moment that Jesse yelled to his classmates to run. Nine little kids did as they were told, by someone who possessed an uncanny and coherent presence of mind for someone six years of age that (to my way of thinking) goes beyond any six year old I’ve ever met. All nine who ran, survived.

Following Jesse’s death, Scarlett found in Jesse’s personal effects a picture he’d drawn two days earlier of (in her words) “an angel standing in front of a bad man.” I’ve only found this image in the Wayne Dyer video, on Scarlett’s website, at about the 3:25 mark. It does show a very short person before another, taller, person whose head is “messed up” (i.e., scribbled over) Scarlett also later found that Jesse had also scrawled on their kitchen chalkboard the message “Norurting Helin Love” (“Nurturing Healing Love”). Immediately following Jesse’s funeral, Scarlett further informs that during the balloon release in his honor that the floating balloons had actually formed a heart as they drifted over Sandy Hook Elementary School.

Why—and how—all of this?

One could invoke “God,” but how do you reconcile God “allowing” murder? The murder of innocents? This is another topic that draws much discussion (including the “free will argument)…but…what if reincarnation fit in with most views of what God is? What if reincarnation “fit in” with most religious beliefs? From what I remember of my study of religion in college, it can fit in with most religious tenants. Couldn’t reincarnation explain—through what I like to term “reincarnational angst”—a lot of the violence that pervades our world? Explain unexplainable grudges, anger, conflict? Personal angst? Especially such explosions as this that seemingly come out of nowhere? Yes, mental illness is at play in this instance, but why (again another of the “Big Whys”…) the mental illness? Get past the pure biology or psychology of it all and try to go philosophically, spiritually—what brings on this kind of mental illness? If we’re so quick to leap into religious discussion about devils, battles between Good and Evil, why can’t we also leap into discussions about reincarnation? Okay, it might not be written about in one or another’s holy books…but are computers written about in said holy books? Cars? The concepts of space travel, or capital gains? So, if so, then we might begin to see that perhaps we are the creators of the violence in the world, not some unseen, inherent Evil, but a very personal misunderstanding of confused energy and feelings. Fear. That through the  misunderstanding of our feelings, our urges, in the case of uncorrelated experiences to a person’s current life experiences, that issues from another life might very well be impacting an individual’s psyche. It might be a useful course of action to follow. Again, how much more “far out” is it to consider reincarnational theory then it is to consider an inherent Devil at odds with God? We all like to use terms like “old soul,” in casual conversation…why use it if we don’t believe it?

As I look at the picture of the boy in his “favorite camouflage helmet,” as I look into his face…his eyes…I do not see a six-year-old child.

I see…a soul with a purpose. I see determination.

I believe we all live multiple lives across Time, and that these lives impact each and every other life (our own and others’). Though I don’t believe these lives are lived chronologically, I use the term “reincarnation,” which typically seems to imply (at least in casual conversation) linear chronology. I believe God does allows us our lives…but beyond that, it’s all up to us to create and live them. And this “allow” is meant metaphysically deeply. Is far from a trite utterance. I mean it to mean each of us chooses our lives, our challenges within them, and our physical entrances and exits into corporeal existence, including all that implies.

I feel the abovementioned picture of Jesse shows the spirit and determination of a soldier from another life “come back” to perform a deed (okay, it’s now January 1st, 4:51 a.m. or so, as I reworked this passage, and another Shinedown song on my iTunes radio, “45” plays. As I wrote the preceding, the following lyrics hit me: “And I’m staring down the barrel of a 45/
Swimming through the ashes of another life…”; here is the link to the rest of the lyrics…interesting how this particular song might apply to both Jesse and the gunman). I can’t help but feel that that picture radiates a soldier in another life coming back to save some children from a very bad, messed-up individual. The reasons for something like this are many and varied, but, perhaps, in that other war-time life there had been some strong ties between Jesse, his parents, Miss Soto, and Lanza that related to the nine children who were able to flee that classroom with their lives. Some…unfinished business. This is what I picked up from Jesse’s picture. This is what the song synchrony seems to be reinforcing as I write and rewrite this post (as I write this now [January 1st], Breaking Benjamin’s “Breath” is playing…).

It’s tragic there was a murderer and victims to this story, and not the return of Jesse and the others to their lives. As I’d mentioned, I’d caught this story in Reader’s Digest, and it greatly moved me, as does any heroic, Human Interest story, but the reincarnational aspects of Jesse’s life jumped out to me…and hopefully pointing this out may help others in whatever ways something like this could and should help…but it does in no way justify the gunman’s actions. That person was obviously deeply and profoundly disturbed (the Sandy Hook Elementary link tells that Lanza was obsessed about writing “…about battles, destruction and war“; this clearly tells me there has to be a reincarnational aspect to his angst, given he was never personally in battle in this life, so it adds additional fuel to the soldier reincarnational theory with Jesse), and we must all take responsibility for our actions in whatever life is our current focus, reincarnational angst or no.

We need to curb our anger our hatred…the violence we inflict upon ourselves and one and other…and we can’t do that with methods that are just not working. While I hail Scarlett’s journey to try to make the world a better place with The Choose Love Foundation, I hope that it goes beyond just preaching that all we have to do is love each other “more” (she does talk of “programs,” but I don’t know what those programs are). We need to understand what is going on that all of a sudden more kids and adults are going into schools and killing each other. Why the sudden epidemic? Why schools? I remember no such instances (not one) from my youth. What has changed and why? We need to develop new methods to combat these kinds of disturbed acts. It’s not just a matter of “choosing” love over violence…it’s also about understanding where the underlying anger and violence are coming from and dealing with them. Stomping anything down—even with love—does not rid one of the problem. It merely compresses it. And as we should all know, with compression comes heat and with heat…explosions. Exploring and understanding reincarnation can be one useful tool in an arsenal of tools. From what I’ve learned, once many grow to quantify and understand their problems…understand why they might feel one way or the other, or from where their problems originate…the problems become manageable. Yes, there are always exceptions, and no, reincarnational theory is not a cure-all, but if such issues arise early in life with no apparent starting point in the current life, where else do you—can you—turn? Sure, possibly genetics, but I feel genetics can also be tied to reincarnation, and I’ve read (in more than one, non-metaphysical, source) that actual genetics can be changed within an individual without so-called scientific (invasive) manipulation.

There are many Whys…many of which I certainly don’t have answers to…but in looking to Jesse’s helmeted picture, I see more than a “mere” six year old involved in saving those nine others…there was a man…a soldier, from another time…who briefly visited our existence to help those who survived to survive. I mean he stood up to the shooter and did not run. Faced him. Why more—why Miss Soto—were not saved gets into deeper metaphysical considerations, upon which there are many books written….

Reincarnation is not just a party discussion (and there has been actual serious research performed on the subject), but a very real possibility that can help us better understand ourselves and be put to use in bettering not only our current lives…but all of our lives.

I salute you, Jesse McCord Lewis. Thank you for performing your mission. You were, indeed, a boy who’d been brave.

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The Death of a Man

by

Unknown Person
The Great Unknown (Unknown Person, photo credit: Wikipedia)

My wife and I attended the funeral of a neighbor this past weekend. His name was Eddie.

Eddie, whose particulars I will not get into to maintain family privacy, was someone my wife’s family had known for a long time. Eddie was also a fixture on his patio, smokin’ cigarettes and tossing balls (and other objects) for his dog to chase after. He is survived by his kids, mom, and other family members.

What is the measure of a person?

What is the sum total of one’s life?

How does one’s death affect everyone they’d ever met?

There are so many variables that go into any life, and trying to summarize those into an hour or so’s service in their honor is just crazy impossible…but said services are not about summarizing the passing of the life in question…they’re about closure for the those who remain behind. About missing the sound of the deceased’s voice, his or her laughter, the touch and feel of his or her’s hands or kisses. The strength of their hugs. How they helped you through your problems, or how you helped them through theirs. How you laughed and cried together. How they “reality checked” you. The security of their presence…how they strode across the Earth and played with children, lent dimensions of depth to our lives. The sparkle and life of their resilient, oh-so-alive eyes….

Eddie was a handsome devil in his younger years, and certainly still handsome in his later years (and by “later years,” I mean he was about my age), including the sporting of a beard that kinda gave him that sea-captain-of-yore look. We always hailed each other and sometimes entered into conversation (and sometimes or two a good laugh) when we were both out back, me grilling, mowing, or doing other yard work. Whatever was going on with him—and inside him, because the exterior is a mirror of the interior—he always seemed to take things in stride. He recently told me he’d been very happy in starting up a new hobby/business venture that had always kinda interested him.

“Hey, Eddie!”

“How ya doin’, Frank!”

The wafting of his cigarette smoke (yes, it was only a little annoying, and well…).

It became a “thing.”

His medical condition just never quite got better, and he kept finding himself in the hospital or some extended care facility. We weren’t “close,” in that we went out, hung out, kinda thing (we traveled in very different circles), but I did help him and his mother out in various ways. Unexpectedly—at least to my wife and I—he made that final trip into the Great Unknown we label Death, and we just couldn’t believe it.

He’d been on the mend.

He looked and sounded strong-as-bull, same mischievous tone to his voice. It was a strong voice. His energy felt good about him. He was once more returned to the “old Eddie,” the healthier Eddie—

Next thing I know…gone.

Boom.

I didn’t know Eddie in depth, but I had known him for many years as a polite and pleasant neighbor. Never had a problem with him. He seemed like a good man, a man just trying to get by, provide for his kids, his mother (his dad had died a few years ago). And he was always fun to talk with. We’d offered our services and checked up on him and his mom during the nasty flooding in our area this past summer. We always looked for him every time we went outside, so it’s no longer the same, going out there picking up on the smell of his cigarettes, no longer seeing him there, in his usual perch, his dog looking for me in that usual ways dogs do….

In our deaths, we affect other’s lives. We leave voids, unfinished sentences. Our presence in life builds an expected stability to our lives, knowing we can depend on the surety of life, a community, like pleasant friends or neighbors we enjoy interacting with in our own, personal ways. Keeping an eye out for each other. And when we leave…our ghosts remain…as we look in their gone directions and ghost patios and still see them waving to us with their unique smiles. Still hear their now-hollow voices only in our minds. It’s a weird thing, when you think about it, and such a young man…gone, now…actually leaving a void in the lives of two people not related to him….

Do you ever think about the people you know who have died that you weren‘t close to?

But, as with family members I’ve lost, I’m not sad for them…sure, I miss them and their presence and everything that goes with that…but, I’m happy and excited for them. They’ve made the decision (I believe we all choose the timing of our deaths) to move on. Done what they’ve come to do and experience.Eddie is free to return to Earthly life or move on, and I’m glad he spent some of that time in our circle of influence.

I wonder what he’s doing now.

So, to that sea captain of yore, I bid you fair winds and following seas, Eddie! Thanks for spending part of your life on this Earth in our company, and may your further adventures be exciting and fulfilling!

Oh, and, one more thing…

One day, shortly after having heard of Eddie’s passing, I went out back on our deck…and smelled cigarette smoke.

I’d shot a look in “his” direction (for real and fast—it was that weird).

Nobody.