LIFE PATH GUIDANCE
By Christina M. Schumacher

     I was born on Halloween at 10:05 a.m. and, I believe, my birth date had a great deal to do with what I am doing today. I will be 43 this year. I am at a stage in life where it is easy to look back upon things and see all that has happened to lead me on this road. Is it all a coincidence? I can honestly say I don't believe in coincidence. Of course, I can't say that I understand the reasoning behind everything that has happened to me over the years, but I am convinced that everything has had its purpose.
     Being born on Halloween, especially being somewhat of a homely child, began shaping me early. My birthday drew taunting from the kids in school and gained me the title of witch as early as first grade. At that point in time, the only real reference we had for witches was from "The Wizard of Oz". The taunting was done in such a way that I was meant to feel as though I was the wicked witch in their cruel game.
     Many children, with this kind of teasing, would turn into themselves, but I have never been one to do this. I'm a fighter. Not in the sense of putting up my fists, but more like the saying "fighting fire with fire". Instead of allowing their cruelty to hurt me, I started "a witches club". This was the turning point. 
     Secretly, as children, we all wished to have magic powers - especially girls it would seem. Even now as adults, we often secretly wish for the abilities that we've seen on television shows such as "Bewitched". My "witches club" was just the ticket gaining me a whole new respect amongst the girls in my elementary class. No longer was the name witch used toward me in a cruel way, but was suddenly transformed into a word of awe.
     It was at that point in time that I began collecting every book I could get my hands on concerning the paranormal. I even bought "The Enquirer" with my allowance which was one of those papers that extrapolated on the truth about such things as UFO's, giants, witches, and the like. I had scrapbooks of these articles according to subject matter.
     As the years went by, I began writing fiction stories about teenagers with special abilities involved in paranormal events. It wasn't difficult as I was very widely read in everything that was available concerning anything of a "spooky" nature.
     Fate kept putting people in my path that had similar interests. At the age of twelve, my best friend, lived in a haunted house. We had candle séances to determine who the spirits were in her home and had great success with a spirit by the name of Felicia. Having always been very good with research, I knew that we could find out whether Felicia ever actually existed by finding out who had lived in the house. The property records were open to the public, so we spent an afternoon going through the ownership records of her house. We discovered that the house was once a plantation home and that Felicia (and there was only one) was one of the servant girls in the early 1800's.
     My best friend's mother did not welcome the spirits within as we did. We came home from school one Friday when I had been given permission to spend the night and found her mother in tears on their front porch. She had been sitting out there for hours waiting for us to come home from school. She told us that she had been coming down the stairs, placed her hand on the turnstile and swung herself around. She said it felt as though she'd hit a brick wall and fell back against the wall. Looking up, she saw a solid figure of an Indian woman with a papoose on her back. That's when she headed out the door and had refused to reenter the house until we were there with her.
     A good number of things happened to me at the age of 14. In fact, I think this might have been a kind of test year for me to see which way I would actually go - toward good or toward evil. This was a year of turmoil in more ways than one. My parents decided to separate for that year. There were two guys in the apartment complex buildings close to mine. One was 18 years old and the other was 21, and though they were friends, one was a Christian and the other was a Satanist. Though I had been raised with good values, there always seems to be, in the teenage years, a fascination for "the bad boy". I was truly intrigued by the 21 year old boy and we would sit for hours doing ESP experiments with cards, talking about the paranormal and it was truly amazing to talk to someone who seemed to know so much about such things. I had church training, but was also drawn to learn about the other side. I purchased the book, "The Complete Witch" and also "The Satanic Bible". In the meantime, the 18 year old boy would take me aside whenever possible to make sure I was keeping my head on straight. It was truly a battle between good and evil. I was not impressed with "The Satanic Bible" though I did read it all the way through. Being born with a kind nature, I just didn't believe in the revenge and anger that seemed to evolve out of it.
     When my parents decided to get back together at the end of that year, I had broken all contact with the 21 year old, but continued to write back and forth with the Christian boy. Much to my surprise, he called me upon entering the Army and asked if I still had "The Satanic Bible". I told him it was packed in a box somewhere. He requested that I send it to him as he had decided to go that direction instead. I don't know what changed him, but I sent the book. It never made it to its destination. Someone stole it upon its delivery. I truly believed something had intervened.
     That same year, I was practicing for a school talent show with two other girls. Two of us, Cindy and I, were to sing while the other girl, Gretchen, accompanied us on the piano. We went to Gretchen's house to practice as she had the piano. She owned a black dog named Sasha that might have been a type of lab. Upon us entering the house, Sasha greeted Gretchen, then Cindy, took one look at me and went running with her tail between her legs. This was the first time in my life that I'd ever had an animal react like this to me as I'd lived on a farm for many years and had raised many different kinds of animals. Sasha had hidden herself underneath Gretchen's parents' bed and we tried everything to coax her out from underneath. Her toys, dog biscuits, people food, but all she did was growl anytime I would get near. We finally gave up and went to practice.
     After Christmas break, several months after the incident with Sasha, Gretchen took me aside in the girl's bathroom at school and handed me a small white box, instructing me not to open it until I was completely alone. Her story to me concerning this box took place over Christmas break when her aunt, apparently a psychic, had come to celebrate the holidays with them. According to Gretchen, she had been sitting at the table thinking about how strange Sasha had acted and her aunt interrupted her thoughts by saying, "You're wondering about your friend and the dog." Gretchen was floored. Her aunt asked her if I had been born on Halloween and Gretchen told her yes. She said her aunt nodded and told her that Sasha's reaction was natural. According to this woman, some black animals reacted this way to someone born on Halloween because certain people with this birth day were considered "the queen of black." This was the point where Gretchen's aunt handed her the little white box and instructed Gretchen to give it to me with the message not to open it until I was completely alone and that if I didn't understand what it was for right then, I would eventually.
     Despite all of my reading and beliefs at that point, I couldn't quite grasp the story Gretchen shared. I left the bathroom with the box still unopened. A part of me expected to open it and find a rat's foot or some other gross item. Of course, curiosity took over and I finally opened the box. Inside was a handmade wooden cross, very simple, on an inexpensive chain. I still have this cross, but it is now in two pieces as it became caught in my jewelry box and broke in half. To this day, I still do not truly know the purpose of the cross nor have I ever had another animal, no matter what color, react to me in that manner.
     The other odd happening that year concerned a girl whose name I no longer remember. She was two years older than I was so I never really paid attention to her until I suddenly did not have a choice. Clothing, at that time, was pretty ordinary. Bell bottoms of odd colors and shirts were the thing, but this girl had already gotten a grasp on "gothic" wear. Black dyed hair, black clothing, black fingernails, etc. I began getting notes in my locker from her, though I had no idea at first who they were coming from. The notes talked about joining a witches coven and that she had been sent to convince me to join. I put the notes down to a practical joke because, at that point, other than the situation that had happened with Gretchen's dog, I no longer advertised my interest in the paranormal. She found me in the school library one day. This is where she introduced herself and where I found out the notes had been from her. I listened to what she had to say, but was not at all intrigued to do as she requested. She stated that her coven was in California which was a far cry distance from Maryland where we were. The head witch of the coven told this girl that she had to convince me to join their coven stating that, though this girl had never noticed me, the head witch of the coven in California had given her my name, birth date, and a description of me.
     I had to admit as she talked to me there were things she knew that she should not have known. Especially since I had not stayed in the same school for more than a year due to my father's incessant need to move all the time. There was no way she could have known the things she knew about me that not even the friends I'd made that year had ever been told. This girl plagued me for months. I finally told her that if she didn't leave me alone I would have to go to an adult and have them keep her away from me. I never saw her again - not in the halls, not outside the school. She just suddenly was no longer there.
     At this point, I need to go backward to go forward. In sixth grade, I met a girl by the name of Cindy. She invited me to stay the night at her house one Friday and shortly before we were to go to sleep, we began talking about the paranormal. Cindy seemed truly interested, so for fun, I suggested that we place a ring on a dresser opposite the bed and try to move it with our minds. She was all for it. Cindy sat concentrating on that ring for about ten minutes. When nothing happened, she told me to try. I closed my eyes, pictured the ring in its spot, then pictured it moving. I'd never done this before so did not really expect anything to happen, but it was something different and fun. Suddenly, Cindy began screaming. Not just a little squeak, but full fledged screaming. My eyes flew open and I hollered at her asking her what was wrong, but she wouldn't answer me. Her parents came on the run and I ended up being taken home. She told her parents that she did not want me there any longer. I found out later through school friends that she believed she'd seen the ring actually move and she believed that I was a witch. She was terrified over the whole ordeal and never spoke to me again. We moved at the end of the school year, as usual, and I never gave her another thought.
     Until... I was in 11th grade, living in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It was the first time that I'd been in a school for more than one year, so I'd made some pretty good friends. One day, we were told that we had a new student to welcome. It was her - Cindy - the one I'd scared to death in 6th grade. When I saw her for the first time, that night came flooding back. She didn't see me right away, but bumped into me in the hall a day or so later. Cindy turned completely pale and I heard her mutter "Oh my God, the witch!" She screeched and ran. From that day, until we moved at the end of the year to Minnesota, Cindy told everyone she encountered that I was a witch and refused to walk on the same side of the hallway with me or to ever be anywhere near me if at all possible. Things slowed down a bit after that though I still did as much reading as possible in anything concerning the paranormal.
     I graduated, moved out on my own, got married and had my first child, a daughter, in 1983. In 1986, I became pregnant with my son. This was the beginning of some very serious thoughts. My father was never a super kind individual and he truly despised anything that had to do with family get togethers or visiting. Suddenly, though, he was driving hundreds of miles to different relatives, asking forgiveness and apologizing to them for things done in the past. It was really very strange. Six months later, in December of 1986, my father died of a sudden heart attack. It was a shock as he seemed perfectly fine and had passed a recent physical with flying colors. His death made me start thinking about the changes that had occurred before his death. I had the distinct impression that somehow he knew that he was going to die. How could this be?
     Seventeen years after my father's death, the internet brought me a way to explore the possibility with others. I began sending out random emails to people whose addresses I had found online. I explained what I was looking for in the hopes of getting some kind of validation from others that I was not crazy in thinking that my father had somehow known he was going to die. I never expected the response that I received. Many people wrote with similar stories, some so heartbreaking that I often cried while reading the emails. This is when I decided to put all the stories I received into a book. I felt it was important for people to know that it really was possible for someone to know when their time was coming and that they prepared for this in such a way that they could pass peacefully when the time came. What a relief it was to find out that I wasn't crazy and so comforting to know that my father had spent the last portion of his life doing what he thought was necessary to bring peace to his soul. I wrote back to those who had responded to my email and asked if they would mind me putting their stories into a book. Everyone was thrilled to share their stories, so began my work on the book, "Do We Know When Our Time Is Near?"

     Now, when I look back on all this, I realize that different parts of my life led up to this moment. My father used to require me to type his business letters on a manual typewriter as early as age 10. Thus,  I learned to type quickly and carefully. Both of these skills allowed me how to draft email letters that someone would read - friendly, yet to the point. I had attempted to sell many of my stories to magazines and had written a novel as well. To improve the novel, I had taken classes. My instructors were Stephen Bischoff and John Chancellor, both well known writers. I struggled with traditional publishers so learned some of the ropes involved in becoming a writer.
     When it came to "Do We Know When Our Time Is Near?" I didn't want to wait two years for it to be published if I could help it, but I tried the traditional market anyway. I had two publishers interested in the book, but ended up turning them down. They wanted to take the stories in the book and have me add false information into a story to make it longer and to remove vital information in other stories to make them shorter. The nerve!!! I turned them down immediately telling them that you don't take stories that people have shared and twist them about in this manner. Fortunately, at this time, print on demand publishers were available, though expensive, so I published the book out of my own pocket.
     While working on this book, word had gotten around somehow and I began receiving other email stories that would not fit into "Do We Know When Our Time Is Near?", but would be fantastic stories for other books. It took nearly three years to produce three books. The first as discussed previously, the second "There's No Place Like Home - Nine Forms of After Death Communication" and the third, "Soul to Soul Connection."
     "There's No Place Like Home - Nine Forms of After Death Communication" is just what it says. I received stories of such variety in the way that loved ones communicated from the other side, that I had to split them up into specific categories.

     "Soul to Soul Connection" concerns people who have experienced premonitions of a sort about themselves or others in different manners. The title comes from my belief that our souls are connected and, sometimes, have a way of communicating certain bits of information.

     After the third book, and a great deal of money out of my own pocket, I was at a crossroads in my life. My partner of eight years had suddenly decided to leave, claiming that it was mostly due to the time I was spending on the books. I was devastated that something so worthwhile could cause such a rift in my family, but I could not let down all the people who had shared and trusted in me to get their stories out there. I completed all three books as promised.
     A year went by with just myself and my four children fairing out the life of a single parent family. In 2004, I met The Night Watchman. We had amazingly similar interests and both had a desire to further explore the paranormal. He was/is in radio and I was a writer, so how could we put these careers to better use? I wanted to offer something that would help me express my appreciation to all those who trusted me and shared stories for the books I had put together.
     In our current circumstances, we had no way to do anything, so we searched for a way to improve things. The Night Watchman changed jobs and we moved to State Center, Iowa. I began working as a news reporter at the newspaper in Marshalltown and The Night Watchman continued his career in news broadcasting. I had worked in newspaper years before as well, paginating and correcting stories. I'd also owned two businesses - a DJ business and an indoor miniature golf course, so had some idea of the business aspect of things as well. I'd also taken accounting courses which helped me in my years of owning businesses.
     Since circumstances were better, we began setting up The Night Watchman Chronicles website and magazine. The email contacts I had made through the books was the starting point for getting the site out there for others to view. This is one of the most difficult aspects of any website - getting the word out. Again, I have to thank everyone who responded to my email about the website for all of their support and for spreading the word! It could not be what it is today without you. Since its inception in February of 2005, the website has grown and changed greatly. I've gone from novice designer to feeling much more comfortable in page creating and the site appears much more professional than when we first began. I still have a great deal to learn, but this is part of the fun of it all.
     The Night Watchman continues to build his own skills. In his full time job doing news broadcasting, he speaks with senators, congressman, mayors, police chiefs, local businessmen, etc., but he loves doing the interviews for the website as it is a whole new world of fascinating people and ideas.
     The most difficult aspect of the website is doing everything ourselves. I quit my job at the newspaper over a year ago and began working part time at the radio station as traffic assistant and working on the website as well. Soon, it became apparent that I needed to devote all of my time to the website if we were to keep up. So, away went my income. We cut corners, got rid of some unnecessary expenses and I began working fulltime as magazine editor and website designer. We are so very proud of The Night Watchman Chronicles and how it has grown, thanks to all of you, in less than two years. All of my life, and the things that I have done in my life, seem to have led up to this.
     The paranormal study from a young age, meeting people who increased my interest even more, paranormal experiences of my own, writing, news reporting and paginating, owning several businesses and last, but not least, meeting a man who shared the interest and could add to my skills with fabulous interviews. Coincidence? We don't think so. All of this was more like training.
     Things continue to grow in our lives too. I am currently working on a book with Ron Bowers, the Psychic Photographer. This is a challenge as we are across the ocean from one another, but email is ever so amazing. The Night Watchman is working on a freelance career in news which will allow him to devote more time to The Night Watchman Chronicles website and still bring in an income for our family. We continue to meet fascinating people every day through the website and I can honestly say that there is nothing I would rather be doing in my life than this. You've all brought us great friendship and support which we hope we are returning in kind.
     There is one last thing that I must share here before ending this very long article. I need to give a special thank you to Angie Christie, our site's Spiritualist Medium. Angie is the most remarkable person I believe I've ever known. Not just in her abilities as a Spiritualist Medium, but in friendship. She has given tremendous energy in being a part of The Night Watchman Chronicles and has spread the word about the site to more people than anyone we know. Angie is an integral part of our website and we couldn't ever do without her. I'm hoping that someday we will be able to afford to go to England and meet Angie face to face. She has become such a major part of our lives, that it will feel like coming home. Thank you, Angie, for who you are and all that you give. We love you.

For more information about the books in my article or to read the back covers, go to www.AuthorHouse.com - use the title of the book in the search box or the name Christina M. Meide as the author as that was my name at the time of these writings.

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