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Just My Thoughts | |||||
The subject matter of this magazine issue is "Time Travel". I wasn't sure that I would actually have anything to write about in this area, but I have had two experiences in the last several months that have left me completely baffled. Does this mean that my subconscious mind is causing things to happen to me so that I may have something to share with you? I can't answer that. All I know is that what I will share in these pages are events that I have never, to my recollection, experienced before. Of course, since what happened was so unexpected, I won't be able to give any explanation on why they took place either. I truly don't understand myself. But, maybe I'm not supposed to. Maybe, like everyone else who shares for this website and magazine, the point is just to share and then let those who are interested in taking certain subjects further draw their own conclusions, adding all of our experiences to their own for further study. Maybe this is what is meant when we call someone an expert. It seems we are all experts in some areas whether we recognize that we are or not. I have studied various aspects of the paranormal for the last 33 years and consider myself quite knowledgeable, but nearly every day, someone shares something with me that I cannot explain nor have ever encountered before. This opens up a whole new realm of interest and study, piquing the curiosity and nearly driving us mad in the need to understand why things happen as they do.
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But, I've babbled long enough. It's time to share my experiences and I welcome anyone who has a theory for me and the others who have shared their stories of Time Travel in this magazine. Riverside Cemetery in Marshalltown, Iowa is quite close to where The Night Watchman and I work - only about eight blocks away. Its closeness provides a place to go if we want a peaceful drive while we eat our lunches during our lunch break or a place for me to go if I am waiting for The Night Watchman to finish an after work meeting. It's a beautiful cemetery. Quite large, hilly in parts and flat in others, and sporting a good sized pond with memorial benches around it. Many in the Marshalltown area go there to feed the two gorgeous white swans, the mallards, and of course, the Canadian geese who all have claimed Riverside as their home. Others come to just sit and watch the pond fountain - others to walk. It's as close to wooded nature as we can get without corn and soy beans and the most peaceful place within the city. Almost a year ago, upon entering the Riverside Cemetery, the twisting and winding of the roads seemed like a maze to me. My sense of direction has never been good, though once I am familiar with a place, I do not get lost. Some of the roads are paved, some dirt, and there are no signs to point you back to the entrance. After going there frequently, for the above mentioned reasons as well as taking photographs which we can only take in the daytime due to cemetery hours, I no longer had a problem navigating through it. In fact, we kind of picked up a routine pathway without really even thinking about it. One day, in the beginning of July, I had completed my part-time duties at work early, so I went to Riverside to take some photos while waiting for The Night Watchman to get off for lunch. As always, I took a familiar route, stopping to take photos every few feet and keeping an eye on the time with my cell phone.
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After shooting approximately 30 pictures, I found myself next to a mausoleum where I could take a right on the dirt path toward the entrance or a left on the paved path to continue on in the cemetery. Knowing it was nearly time to pick up The Night Watchman, I packed my camera away and turned right to head for the entrance. What happened next, I cannot explain. I found myself coming up to a wrought iron gate, of which the cemetery has three. Only the entrance gate is used - the other two are always closed. I remember thinking, "Why is the gate closed?" I was so bewildered at finding that I couldn't get out that I pulled the car over. Suddenly, I realized that nothing was as it should be. There was no pond behind me, no funeral home to the left of the gate and I truly had no idea where in the cemetery I was or how I had gotten there. I remembered turning right on the dirt path which is the only way to get to the entrance, then finding myself pulled over at the closed gate. I don't remember anything in between which would account for a loss of about 5 minutes of time. Upon looking around, I began to recognize some of the stones and it dawned on me that I was at the East end of the cemetery - a good distance from the center entrance gate. How had I gotten there? In turning right on the dirt path, I could only end up at the entrance gate or further West into the cemetery, but there I was on the East end. It's difficult to describe my confusion, but I literally felt "blank" when I wondered why the front entrance gate was closed. There didn't seem to be anything firing in my brain and it took great effort to look around and begin recognizing where I was. It was almost as though my brain had completely shut down for that period of time that I was missing and seemed to need some kind of extra jump start. Needless to say, once I realized where I was, I pulled the car out onto the pathway, headed for the entrance and went to pick up The Night Watchman. | |||
