“My impish nine year old had a bit of the soothsayer in him.”

It was the middle of February and I was daydreaming how nice it would be to spend a week or two in sunny California.

It was a particularly miserable winter in Chicago, and I yearned to get out of town.  My wife had called a few minutes earlier and alerted me to a problem our youngest boy was having in school.

Turns out he was in trouble with the same teacher again, and we wondered if he was alienating her or perhaps she somehow had it in for our boy.  After all, Dustin was a quiet kid who wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he was the last person we’d thought who would cause trouble.

When I returned home that night, Dustin and I had a “man to man” talk, and I was shocked by what he told me.  My impish nine year old had a bit of the soothsayer in him.  It seems he was constantly interrupting the teacher by shouting out the answer before she opened her mouth to ask the question.

I told my wife about this, and after having a good laugh, we thought it best to ask Dustin’s teacher if this was indeed true.  Well, it turns out that Mrs. Miller was at her wits end because she said our kid somehow was getting “into her head” and would interrupt her time and time again with something she was about to say.

Fortunately, Mrs. Miller had a good sense of humor, and she admitted she wished she had Dustin’s ability to read minds.  She said Dustin was a good boy and she’d figure out how to cope with his “talent.”

She also told me something about Dustin that I’ll never forget.  A few days earlier, he had shouted out “fire drill” only a second before the alarm rang.  Mrs. Miller said the school principal had alerted her that there would be a fire drill that day but hadn’t informed her of the exact time.  “Apparently,” she said, “I should have asked Dustin.  He would have told me.”

R. McGurthy
Tucson, AZ

Can you guess who it is?

This man was born Ehrich Weiss March 24, 1874 in Budapest, Hungary. Ashamed of his birthplace, he later claimed to have been born in Appleton, Wisconsin.

His family was poor and at the age of eight, he went to work to help pay the bills. He sold newspapers and shined shoes until age12, when he left home and began performing magic, calling himself “Eric, the Great.”

He was a mere 5’5″ with a high-pitched voice, but was extremely athletic and charismatic

Soon he became famous worldwide when he astonished audiences with his incredible feats.

In 1926, a member of the audience asked if he could punch the magician in the stomach to test his tolerance for pain. A few single blows caused his appendix to rupture.  Despite the pain, he continued to perform several shows but after one final performance in Michigan, he collapsed and was rushed to a local hospital.

Both of his homes, in New York and Los Angeles are currently said to be haunted by his ghostly spirit, even though one of them burned down after his death.

Harry Houdini died October 31, 1926 of peritonitis.

“He said, ‘Go back to your mother now.'”

Bernard had come down with cancer and his health was failing rapidly.  He was only forty-five years old and up to that time he had been quite active and in good health.

One Saturday morning, Bernard told his son Johnny to go out and play, that he was feeling weak and needed some sleep. The eight year old nodded and went out to the back yard to play on the swing set.

No sooner had Johnny sat down on the swing, he noticed his father walking out the yard and down the road.  “Daddy, daddy,” he called after him.  At first, the man didn’t turn or even acknowledge his son’s call.

Johnny started to run after him.  Bernard stopped slowly and said, “It’s OK.  Go back to your mother now.”

Johnny ran into the house but was met by his mother who he noticed had tears in her eyes.  “It’s better you not come in right now,” she said.  Then she went on to explain that his father isn’t in pain anymore and that he had passed away.

“But I just saw him,” cried the little boy.  “I did, too,” said his mother.  Apparently, she had seen the vision of Bernard walking out of the house, and a few moments later, Johnny saw his father walking down the road.

She reports that from time to time when she is in the kitchen she can see his vision in the garden.  “It only occurs for a few seconds, and then I can’t see him anymore.  I think he comes to check on us, to see if we’re OK.  That’s the way he was in real life, and I think he’s showing me he still cares for us.”

M. Marquais
Albuquerque, NM

“Tears were streaming down my face as I moved the pillow toward Maxwell’s face “

Mary Sampson was a South African woman who was charged with taking care of a severely handicapped boy named Maxwell.

Maxwell had been horribly injured in a tractor accident when he was nine years old and he could barely function without assistance from his loyal caretaker, Mary.

Mary wrote in her journal:  “I was very depressed because Maxwell’s parents were running out of money and they simply couldn’t afford to take care of Maxwell for much longer.  The boy needed constant attention, and it was the saddest thing I had ever witnessed.

“One morning, Maxwell, without saying a word, motioned with his eyes toward a pillow that was resting beside his head.  He silently said ‘do it.’  I looked at him and said, no, I can’t.

“I never felt so terrible in my life.

“I sat beside Maxwell for a while wondering what was best for him.  I finally came to the conclusion that perhaps it was best for the boy to put him out of his misery.  I don’t know what got into me, but when I noticed Maxwell had fallen asleep, I slowly picked up the pillow.

“I stood there for what seemed to be an eternity not knowing what to do.  Tears were streaming down my face as I moved the pillow toward Maxwell’s face.  Then I almost jumped out of my clothes when the phone rang.

“It was Maxwell’s mother who said she had a feeling that something was terribly wrong.  I dropped the pillow and was sobbing as I explained that I didn’t know what was going to become of Maxwell.  We both cried together that day.

“Maxwell died peacefully in his sleep two years later.”

“I received the scolding of my life.”

When I was at work the other day, I smelled smoke.

I walked around the office peeking inside trash baskets, opening closet doors, and examined the small lunchroom.  Although I found nothing, I was sure I smelled smoke.

I received a call two hours later and learned that my son’s school had a small fire in the cafeteria.  Fortunately, no one was hurt and the damage was minimal.

A few years ago, I had a premonition that a good friend of mine had a miscarriage.  She was pregnant and was having a difficult time.  The doctor had prescribed complete bed rest, and she was ordered to stay in bed for the rest of the pregnancy.

Not wanting to call and alarm her, I simply stopped by to see how she was doing.  Her son opened the door and told me his mother had been rushed to the hospital.  I learned that she hadn’t had a miscarriage but did indeed have a scare.

One more thing:  When I was a child, I blurted out to Peggy, one of my mother’s closest friends, that she was sick and should go to see a doctor.  My mother was furious with me and I received the scolding of my life.  She explained that nothing was wrong with her friend and asked why in the world I would say something like that.

Two weeks later, Peggy was in the hospital when her appendicitis burst.

N. Pendergrass
San Jose, CA

“Her face was ‘exactly’ as I had seen it in my dream.”

I’ve been divorced for over twelve years now, and neither I nor my ex-husband Anthony had remarried.

We’ve stayed in touch infrequently because both our kids are grown and there’s no reason for us to communicate.  Although it was an amicable divorce, as with most partings there are still lingering hard feelings.

The other day, my son was telling me about a letter he had received from his father.  I suddenly blurted out that he must have remarried.  My son said no, that wasn’t in the letter and to his knowledge he wasn’t even seeing anyone.

I didn’t know why that notion had suddenly popped into my head, as after all these years I had never mentioned the idea of marriage before.  Then a day later, my son received a call from his dad saying that he indeed got married and didn’t know how to break the news.

Later that night I dreamed of Anthony standing next to his bride.  And I could see her face very clearly as well as the exact clothes she was wearing.

The next week, my son received another letter from Anthony, and in it was a photo of his wedding.  Just as in my dream, there they were, standing next to each other in the identical pose.  Although her dress wasn’t anything like it was in my dream, her face was “exactly” as I had envisioned it.

T.  Rotelli
Bologna, Italy