F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction Author

death

The Dead Bird

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The Dead Bird. Holbrook, AZ, March 22, 2015.
The Dead Bird. Holbrook, AZ, March 22, 2015.

During our road trip to the Scottsdale, Arizona last week, we’d stopped in Holbrook, AZ to overnight, and while there had taken a couple walks down the main street (or what we thought to be the main street) of the town. On our second jaunt, during the day (our first was at night), when we could actually see stuff, I’d spotted it.

The dead bird.

How fitting, huh, that I, who writes about the weird and the dead, should spot the poor creature?

But I found this kinda sad…that the poor winged beast had somehow caught itself in a way that had it (apparently) hanging by its neck.

Now, how the heck had that happened?

It was creepy and sad to observe that end to a life that had known free breezes and unfettered airspace. A creature that freely did what most humans long (and literally dream) to do.

But, there it was…dangling from the edge of an abandoned gas station’s overhang. It’s little head craned all the way back at an unnatural angle, beak slightly opened. Something holding it up there.

This scene just kinda held me, transfixed. We all just stood there and stared at it. We were on a fun road trip and seeing this there—at least to me—affected me in (yes…) a weird way that was actually kinda hard to describe, even now.

Death.

On a crappy and dilapidated building.

And how the hell had that happened?!

I mean, think about it…here’s this pigeon…flying (or walking) around…on this overhang…what could possibly have happened to “grab” a bird and have it hang from its neck like that?

Did it reach down to get at a bug in a narrow opening up there, then some sharp jag of metal did its deed?

Was some nefarious trap set?

Did it fly into it and somehow jam its head in there?

I don’t know, but to me it was simultaneously repulsive and riveting. Thought-provoking, obviously.

Tragic.

I’ve since e-mailed the Holbrook Chamber of Commerce, hoping it will remove the bird from the roof, if it hasn’t already dropped.

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Cemetery Art

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By Robin from Kraków, Poland (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0 Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)
By Robin from Kraków, Poland (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0 Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

You know, one might well ask, what the hell, Frank? Why are you so fascinated with cemeteries?

Fair question.

I’m fascinated with life…and life involves transitions. Part of those transitions…is death.

Death…cemeteries.

I posted my query to myself on this same question, in my post Cemetery Dance, where I attempt to answer this question. But, since I’ve gotten onto Pinterest, I found something else that piques my interest about cemeteries: all the really cool cemetery art. Yes, art. The stuff is incredible. It’s art that rarely seems to get the time of day. Sure, some of it is creepy, but to someone, like myself, who’s interested in the paranormal and supernatural, wow, it’s some of the neatest art out there! A real-life Night Gallery of sculptures! And what they reveal in their composition can be quite stunning. The love and caring that went into their creation, the expression of their love for the dear departed over which they now reign can be downright striking.

So, rather than post all kinds of Pinterest photos here (if that’s even legal…), please take a look at some of my collection. I’ve only recently gotten onto Pinterest, so I don’t have a ton of material, but I do add to it kinda frequently, so please, feel free to stop by off and on, during your travels! Hope you find them as fascinating as I do!

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The Ghost Inside My Child

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http://youtu.be/ED0HAoPumqc

“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 Death of a Man

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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.

The Assumption Cemetery

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The Assumption Cemetery, October 2013
The Assumption Cemetery, October 2013

Yesterday I posted about Silver Cliff Cemetery. Today, I’m posting about the sister cemetery up a little farther on that little dirt road, called The Assumption Cemetery. It’s a Catholic cemetery (and I’ve read Silver Cliff was a Protestant cemetery) and isn’t as old as Silver Cliff.  Most of the graves in Silver Cliff were 1800s, while in Assumption, there were many more contemporary graves.

Curiously, my wife and I noted a preponderance of “Franks” buried here.

That reminded me of the time my dad and I were staring down at my grandfather’s gravestone during my grandfather’s service, over 21 years ago. My grandfather was the “Sr.” of the “Jr.” and the “III” of us, but his gravestone did not have “Sr” on it. After the service I turned to my dad and remarked how that was our name on the gravestone. We both chuckled at how unreal it was attending our “own” funeral!

Anyway, since this was later in the day, I loved the long shadows that developed at Assumption; it reminded me of the Vincent Price film, House of the Long Shadows, I’d just watched the other night. It definitely added an extra bit of atmosphere to the place. And there are a couple shots I have that really turned out great, one a small tilted wooden cross and another of a wooden cross propped up by bricks that lent a particularly eerie (human?) shadow….

Note, I’ve attached links to my other cemetery posts, below. Take a tour!

So, without further ado, here is The Assumption Cemetery:

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Silver Cliff Cemetery

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Silver Cliff Cemetery, Silver Cliff, Colorado
Silver Cliff Cemetery, Silver Cliff, Colorado

Yesterday, my wife and I visited the Silver Cliff Cemetery, at Silver Cliff, Colorado. It’s a stone’s throw east from Westcliffe, Colorado. We picked this cemetery because of the drive…and that it’s supposedly haunted. It’s listed as the “most haunted” (scroll to the bottom to read about it) Colorado cemetery. Of course, you need darkness and a moonless night to see the supposed blue and white lights, but we went during the day…also to go on a drive on such a beautiful, crisp October day that it was. We saw no glowing lights that are said to hover above the graves, and are also written up in National Geographic (August 1969, Volume 136, No. 2). I did a quick search for the NatGeo magazine, but didn’t find any entry into one, just outlets looking to sell it to me, and now, to search NatGeo’s archives, you need an account. Not creating one.

Our visit was interesting…once entering Silver Cliff, you take a left on an unmarked street (should have been labeled “Mill Street”) just before the only pizza joint in town (on the left), drive down a short stretch of Mill Street blacktop, then onto a dirt road, which takes you out into the open Colorado plains. Lots of sun and wind. Open space. This, as well as another cemetery we also visited just up the dirt road from it, The Assumption Cemetery (will post tomorrow), both repose before the beautiful Sangre de Cristo mountains. Basically, they’re not your typical, Night of the Living Dead layout, but, this is Colorado. They both had some beautiful and interesting gravestones, and, as always, these places always fascinate me about the lives lived and lost. Who were they—really? How’d they die? How’d they live?

What are they doing now?

Here are some links to read about Silver Cliff:

Top Colorado Cemeteries to visit

Silver Cliff Town

Silver Cliff Lore 1 (lights)

Silver Cliff Lore 2

Silver Cliff Lore 3 (lights)

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