Spirit Messages, by Elizabeth Owens

Spirit essages M 

Š Dawn Medley

About the Author Elizabeth Owens (Florida) was certified as a medium in 1984 and ordained as a Spiritualist minister in 1985. Since September of 2001, she has been appearing on radio shows across the nation promoting her books. Elizabeth also has appeared on The Other Side, CNN, Hard Copy, Now It Can Be Told, and A Current Affair, and participated in news shows that were broadcast in Japan, Germany, Australia, France, England, and Florida.

Elizabeth’s other titles include Women Celebrating Life: A Guide to Growth & Transformation (2000), How to Communicate with Spirits (2001), Discover Your Spiritual Life (2004), and Spiritualism & Clairvoyance for Beginners (2005). How to Communicate with Spirits won the Coalition of Visionary Resources 2002 Visionary Award for Best Biographical/Personal Book.

Spirit M essages Inspiring Stories about Mediumship and Experiences from the Other Side

ELIZABETH OWENS

Llewellyn Publications Woodbury, Minnesota

Spirit Messages: Inspiring Stories about Mediumship and Experiences from the Other Side © 2018 by Elizabeth Owens. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Publications, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Edition First Printing, 2018 Cover art by gettyimages.com/185173700/©Javier Canale Cover design by Shira Atakpu Llewellyn Publications is a registered trademark of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Owens, Elizabeth, author.

Title: Spirit messages : inspiring stories about mediumship and experiences from the other side / by Elizabeth Owens.

Description: First edition. | Woodbury, Minnesota : Llewellyn Worldwide, [2018].

Identifiers: LCCN 2018030943 (print) | LCCN 2018037579 (ebook) | ISBN 9780738756301 (ebook) | ISBN 9780738756196 | ISBN 9780738756196 (alk. paper) Subjects: LCSH: Mediums. | Spiritualism. | Owens, Elizabeth Classification: LCC BF1286 (ebook) | LCC BF1286 .O94 2018 (print) | DDC 133.9/3—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018030943 Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. does not participate in, endorse, or have any authority or responsibility concerning private business transactions between our authors and the public.

All mail addressed to the author is forwarded but the publisher cannot, unless specifically instructed by the author, give out an address or phone number.

Any internet references contained in this work are current at publication time, but the publisher cannot guarantee that a specific location will continue to be maintained. Please refer to the publisher’s website for links to authors’ websites and other sources.

Llewellyn Publications A Division of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. 2143 Wooddale Drive Woodbury, MN 55125-2989 www.llewellyn.com Printed in the United States of America

Other Books by Elizabeth Owens Spiritualism & Clairvoyance for Beginners (Llewellyn, 2005) Discover Your Spiritual Life (Llewellyn, 2004) How to Communicate with Spirits (Llewellyn, 2001) Women Celebrating Life: A Guide to Growth & Transformation (contributor) (Llewellyn, 2000)

Love and appreciation to my parents and God, all who created me. I have been blessed with gifts I cannot explain.

Much appreciation and love to my husband, Vincent, who has always supported my endeavors and loved me through their completion. My best friend forever.

Much love and appreciation to my cousin and her husband, and a bucket of gratitude for her loving guidance.

Contents Introduction … 1 Chapter 1: Childhood Memories and Beyond … 7 Chapter 2: The Path to Knowledge … 33 Chapter 3: Religion, Mediumship, and Spirituality … 39 Chapter 4: Spirit Art … 51 Chapter 5: Open Road … 63 Chapter 6: Spirit Guides … 73 Chapter 7: Phenomena and Séances … 87 Chapter 8: Delivering Messages from Spirits … 99 Chapter 9: Private Readings … 109 Chapter 10: Group Readings … 121 Chapter 11: A Spiritualist Church Service and Gallery Readings … 141 Chapter 12: Experiences with Those Unseen … 149 Conclusion … 193 Glossary … 197

Introduction

As a little girl growing up in the metropolitan area of our nation’s capital, I never thought I would become a medium. For that matter, as a teenager and adult, I never thought I would become a medium. A what? I had never even heard of the term medium and had no idea what it was to be one. But that is exactly what I became. And it was my destiny to do so.

This book is a collection of my personal experiences with the unseen side of life and messages that have come through to me from the spirit world. Additionally, this project has evolved into a personal journey of growth. As I experimented with new endeavors, such as ghost hunting, I grew in my knowledge and was exposed to a new understanding of what I had previously feared or not appreciated. This just proves that the journey is never over, as long as we have an open mind and heart.

You may wonder how in the world people become mediums.

Do they all have a natural gift, or do they receive training to enhance their ability? Maybe they had an accident where they struck 1

Introduction

their head, or some other phenomenon occurred and they were immediately transported into a new life.

All of these are possibilities, but each person who finds themselves being mediumistic comes to it as an individual. In some cases this is a part of themselves that they don’t understand. It’s foreign to them, and in all likelihood the ability is not seen in other family members or friends around them. It would be understandable to feel weird in this situation. Then there are those who are dragged into the “work” kicking and screaming. That may sound odd, but not everyone wants to be a medium. Some people may not want to see spirits, even though they have since childhood. And they may not want to know when something is going to happen to another. Some people enjoy living a normal life. Mediumship is not what the average person would consider a normal life.

What most people do not understand, mainly because they have not been educated about such gifts, is that mediumistic talents are natural. Yes, I said natural. Everyone possesses natural abilities, but most people with mediumistic talents do not choose to understand or learn about them, let alone enhance them. They prefer to ignore the fact that they have seen relatives in spirit form since childhood. If they are fortunate enough to remember things that occurred back when they were five, they may wish to dismiss those memories, preferring to focus on the material world they live in. Such a pity, in my opinion.

There are things that go bump in the night, as I like to say.

That unexplained occurrence at three o’clock in the morning… What does it mean? Was that a voice I just heard? Shudder.

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Let’s not even go there. Let’s just pretend this event never happened. Yes, let’s continue on with life as we know it and ignore the possibility of something more being out there because it’s all too frightening to acknowledge. There actually is another world out there. One we are not taught about in school. One that is invisible to the average person and scares a fair number of people.

I understand that the unknown is frightening. It is to everyone who can breathe. But only if one chooses to remain ignorant.

Personally, I believe in educating myself so I have a clear understanding of the not-so-understood. I want to know the answers. I don’t want to remain a scared rabbit, closing my eyes to the truth.

I want knowledge!

There are also people who experience things that go bump in the night and truly desire to understand what is happening around them. Perhaps you have a friend who is experiencing visits from spirits. Your friend doesn’t understand these occurrences but is intrigued by them. You are intrigued hearing about these occurrences, too. The idea of not pursuing answers never enters the thought process of either of your brains. Your curiosity is piqued! Your antennae perk up! You wonder, Where are the explanations? How do I learn more about this phenomenal experience? Have other people experienced this as well?

It is my pleasure to share with you what I have learned about becoming a medium and the experiences I have had along my path as a medium. What I am presenting here is a collection of personal experiences, observations of other professional mediums, and information I have gleaned from walking this path. Frankly, my personal adventure may not be a normal path because my family did

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not consist of Spiritualists or mediums, as you will read. Yet my destiny was to become a medium. Looking back on my life, I see it as a winding path to get to my destination. Every step, no matter how seemingly unrelated, was important for the journey because lessons were presented at every turn to point me in the right direction.

Understanding what you at first may have thought was a bizarre experience or a series of strange events that you chose to ignore can open up a whole other world. Whether you are frightened or intrigued by what is happening currently or what happened in the past, perhaps as far back as childhood, my intention is to provide comfort and shed some light on all your concerns.

By reading about my life, you will understand, I believe, how mediumship can develop. The examples I give and the opinions that other mediums share will also aid you in understanding the gifts—your gifts—and so much more.

It has truly been a joy to write about my life in order to show how a normal person can be a medium. Well, I may not be entirely normal. I stand a mere four foot eight inches in height. I guess you could call me a small medium!

You will come to understand why I strongly believe that destiny played a huge role in leading me onto this path. The spirit world and God must have been watching over my early life in order for me to become a medium. Growing up with rigid parents and later working in a governmental environment were quite contradictory to a path in mediumship. The stepping stones placed on my path by spirit led me from Washington, DC, to a Spiritualist community in Florida via two husbands. Nothing

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could have been further from my upbringing. The paranormal events I experienced in between were meant to prepare me for my destiny, to give me some exposure to the unseen. I owe my unsuspecting husbands a giant thank-you!

As you read this book, you will walk with me step by step as I travel my path. Some of my stories include an account of a full spirit manifestation in my apartment, the foretelling during a psychic development class of a serious accident I ended up having, numerous personal encounters with spirits, my observations as other mediums worked with spirit, descriptions of what happens during readings, and my ghost-hunting experiences, to name a few.

All along the way, you will be entertained by the spirit world and all their antics. And you just might see a little bit of yourself in my story.

The additional mediums I have included in this book are those I know well and respect. These wonderful people come mostly from the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp in Cassadaga, Florida.

Their comments add emphasis to my story.

I am certain that all my medium friends will agree with me when I say that obtaining the services of a medium is a great comfort for people who are grieving. There is nothing more satisfying for us than having someone walk away from a reading feeling comforted by the knowledge that their loved one is whole, healed, and safe on the other side of life. They have the knowledge that the spirit is happy! Although they may still feel the physical absence of their loved one, what a relief it is for them to know that their loved one is content and at peace. Additionally, as mediums we perform

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a service for those in spirit. We aid them in communicating with the loved ones they left behind.

Mediumship is a blessing! Knowledge of this blessing gives all of us a renewed approach to life, a far better understanding of life. I feel it is so important for the general public to have a clearer understanding of what it is, and is not, to be a medium. There are so many misconceptions about mediumship and mediums. Some people think we are peculiar and some are afraid of us. I don’t want anyone to be afraid of mediums.

Maeda, one of my medium friends, says that the mediumistic path is about compassion. It’s about speaking to the so-called dead and honoring everybody’s journey in life and everybody’s right to make that journey. This path requires us to exercise unconditional love as we try to reserve judgment as best we can, being we are human. That sounds pretty noble to me!

I have written numerous books on spirit communication, pulling from my knowledge of the spirit world. It has always been my purpose to educate others when I write. Education is freedom from fear and confusion. Education teaches everyone how to best utilize their abilities. Education serves to enlighten those in the dark who need to be led into the light of knowledge so they may be released from fear and misunderstanding. Education is key!

It is my sincere hope that this book in your hands will transform your understanding of mediumship and mediums. We aren’t weird, we aren’t fakes, we aren’t fortunetellers, and we like to have fun, just like everyone else. So please slip into your sneakers and let’s start walking this path together!

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— One —

Childhood Memories and Beyond

When I look back on my childhood, I don’t think there was anything special about me that would have caused someone wise to say, “Oh, she’s going to be a medium.”

I don’t recall anything extraordinary occurring in my childhood or my parents chastising me for saying that I saw dead people. If that happened, I just don’t remember. If I had talked about it, I’m sure my proper and strict parents would have banished that idea from my head: “What will the neighbors think! She’s a weird child.

She can’t go around saying she sees dead people!”

I have since learned that it is quite normal and, frankly, a frequent occurrence for young children between the ages of three and eight to communicate with those on the other side of life.

Children are so close to having crossed over to the physical side of life that it is a natural situation for them to still have contact with those in the spirit world. A child would not understand why they wouldn’t be able to communicate with spirits—until their parents say there is nothing there.

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“It’s just your imagination,” they might say.

No, it isn’t!

Once I started studying to be a medium, I remembered incidents from childhood. Well, it was more like remembering feelings. I can recall being in bed and not wanting to go downstairs. There was something down there. I felt it. At other times I could hear a party going on, a low murmur of voices as the spirits spoke, though no single voice was clear enough for me to understand what was being said. Something occurred during those childhood years to cause those feelings. However, I don’t have a conscious memory of spirits visiting me or any otherworldly event in my youth that would explain them.

Margarita, a wonderful medium friend of mine, doesn’t believe that we develop abilities but rather that we remember them.

These abilities are within all of us. It’s about knowing and remembering your essence. It’s about trusting and allowing life, because the door is always open, so we can just walk through.

As a little girl I disliked school immensely. I found it boring. I would have rather been drawing and, later, painting. Back when I was three, my parents were astonished to discover that I could draw. Drawing came naturally to me. My first rendering was in pencil on a wooden step at the bottom of the basement stairs. It was a drawing of an eye. I loved drawing eyes! To this day, my art reflects very soulful eyes. Later on, the eyes grew into faces.

Knowing what I know now, I have to believe that spirit was guiding my hand when I drew. How else would one explain a child with no formal artistic training being able to draw faces?

Faces! Those are the most difficult things to draw! I would liken

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my experience to the child prodigy who sits down at the keyboard of a piano and begins to play classical music. There simply is not a rational explanation for such a thing to occur.

During childhood, I also had a desire to write books. I remember clearly wanting to be an author during the summer before eighth grade. I loved reading, so I saw myself writing novels. I have been fortunate to make my dream of being an author come true. I have written both fiction and nonfiction and can see myself continuing to write into my advanced years.

Being an only child, I spent a lot of time alone or with adults.

My parents were strict and protected me from outside influences. I had no independence whatsoever. If I had been fortunate enough to have a sibling, life definitely would have been different.

Actually, I almost had a sister. When I was eleven, my mother became pregnant. I remember being so excited to have another member of the family. I desperately wanted a sister!

We had been living in Pennsylvania for two years due to my father’s career. My maternal grandmother had come to live with us. During the late term of my mother’s pregnancy, we were in the process of moving back to Northern Virginia. My parents were staying in a rental house, awaiting the arrival of the moving van, my grandmother, and me. My sibling chose that time to be born. Unfortunately, I overheard my grandmother talking on the phone as she told someone that the baby was a girl and had been born dead. At eleven, I knew what dead meant. I was devastated!

I remember thinking that it would have been all right for the baby to have come much later, rather than early, and been a boy, as long as a baby had arrived. But the fact was that I was not going

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have a baby sister to dress up and play with. I would never have a sibling.

My grandmother made me go to school that day, despite the awful news. I don’t know why she thought I should attend school on such a terrible day. I always blamed that decision on her German stoicism. But I was anything but stoic; I was a sensitive child.

My beloved sister, Kathy, never drew a breath. But she has come through during séances on two occasions.

My Teenage Years I think those who understand and/or study astrology will appreciate knowing that I am a Pisces. That explains a lot, doesn’t it? Sensitive, artistic, creative, the most psychic sign in the zodiac … That is a brief description of Pisces. I was probably predisposed to experience what I did. However, my parents did not encourage my creativity; rather, they ignored my artistic talents.

We lived twelve miles outside of Washington, DC, relatively close to some prestigious art schools. Although I was a creative Pisces, my parents made sure I was trained during high school to work in an office, because that’s what my mother did. I was supposed to be like my mother. I’ll tell you a not-so-big secret: I’m nothing like my mother. All my creativity and sensitivity were ignored, and I was positioned for a boring office job with the government.

With my creative, sensitive nature, that was a failure in the making. But before all of that began, during my teenage phase, I initiated a change in my parents’ plans for me.

I wasn’t popular in high school, probably because I was shy and quiet. But I was part of a group of about ten girls who all

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lived in my neighborhood, and we would gather at the clubhouse pool all summer long. We also frequently had slumber parties at each other’s houses. Like most teenagers at that time, we smoked cigarettes at the parties. No marijuana, just the regular tobacco type of cigarettes. I remember the brands of choice were Winston, Kent, Tareyton, and Salem. I was into Salem. Oh, how I loved that minty flavor!

At one of those slumber parties I was told by a brave girl that I didn’t have a personality. She said I was too quiet. She went on to suggest that I work at developing a personality. Can you imagine? I was floored, needless to say. But she was right and actually did me a favor. I had a tendency to observe what everyone around me was doing and saying, becoming very engrossed in my surroundings but not contributing. I recognized that I should be involved in the conversation, participating in life, so I set out to develop a personality. I don’t remember how I did that, but I believe what occurred was that I finally became me. I had held back for so long, pushed away from my real self by my parents, but finally I chose to open the door and expand myself.

The new me became more outgoing. Unfortunately, my proper mother didn’t appreciate having a lively daughter. I remember her telling me to calm down and be quiet. I thought she was nuts to say that. I didn’t calm down and I was not quiet. I was busting out of my shell—the one she had created—and becoming a person, finally. I was ready to spread my butterfly wings and fly!

At age nineteen, I worked as an entry-level clerk for the government, lived at home, and made a car payment. When I made noises about wanting to move out and get an apartment, I was

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told I would have to do so without my sweet Camaro. You see, the title of the car was in my and my father’s names, another control method. There was no way a person could live where I did without a car, so I stayed at home.

I had been overly protected, coddled, a little spoiled, and controlled all my life, so I was completely unprepared for real life.

Consequently, at age nineteen I had the maturity level of a sixteen-year-old at best. My parents recognized my maturity level.

They didn’t recognize that they had done this to me by controlling my every move. Understandably, I continued to burn for freedom. So I found a solution and did what any immature girl would do: I married the first guy who asked me at the age of twenty so I could experience life. Of course, that wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did and wouldn’t be the final dumb thing I chose to do, either. The marriage didn’t last, predictably. But my choice led me to some interesting circumstances that were part of my destiny to become a medium. Consequently, my belief is that I didn’t really make a mistake. I was following my path. Most paths are not constructed with even paving. They are full of gullies, rocks, and mud. And I got a little muddy along the way.

Everyone walking on the earth plane makes choices that could have been better, at first glance. But as a result of my own errors, I have learned that although we make so-called bad decisions, they aren’t truly mistakes. They are lessons through which we either grow or sink lower. Either way, we learn something, whether we want to embrace that lesson and rise to new heights or continue as before and sink lower. It is our choice—free will in action.

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Husband Number One My first husband and I eventually ended up living in a tenant house on a dairy farm seventy-five miles away in West Virginia.

He was hired as the caretaker of the dairy farm owned by his mother’s cousin. His mother lived just down the winding country road, where she, too, resided on a dairy farm. I was living on a farm. A city girl living on a farm … oh my! Nothing in life had prepared me for this, yet it was part of my path to mediumship.

The tenant house we lived in was quite old, a two-story relic in need of remodeling. Having been raised in Northern Virginia, I had visited every historic site and wandered through numerous historic homes at my parents’ insistence. I loved old houses! So this was an intriguing adventure for me. I could see myself decorating with old furniture, wallpapering the walls, and having a great time in this old house.

Let me tell you about this house. The only bathroom was a square room jutting out from the dining room at the back of the house, an obvious afterthought to incorporate indoor bathroom facilities. There was some old furniture and one interesting antique painting in the house. A closed-in staircase between the dining and living rooms led to our bedroom upstairs, which was situated between two other bedrooms. The plan was to renovate the larger bedroom to the left and eventually move into it. However, our marriage didn’t last that long.

Here is the most interesting part about that house: there was definitely a presence living there. I can remember being downstairs in the dining room and feeling something upstairs. When I was alone in the house, sometimes I didn’t want to go upstairs.

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Understandably, it felt creepy to me. Because I was married to a man who liked to party—well, in all fairness, we were young—I spent some nights alone in bed until he wandered home. Those were not my favorite times. I never knew what was in that house with me, but I did know something was present, and it made me uncomfortable, much like when I was a child not wanting to go downstairs at night. Except by now I was twenty-one.

After two short years of marriage, including several separations during which I briefly returned home to my parents, my husband and I permanently separated and divorced. I did not return home this time. I finally had the freedom I had sought, so I found an apartment above a small restaurant in the town of Martinsburg, West Virginia. There I commuted by train to Washington, DC, to work in an office. Yes, I was still working in an office—but spirits were guiding me elsewhere!

At the age of twenty-two, I turned over in bed one night to see a young woman with lovely blonde hair falling past her shoulders and dressed in a long, white dress standing in the doorway.

Holy moly, it was a ghost! Literally standing before me was a woman in spirit! I was shocked, to say the least, as I stared at her.

I wasn’t ready for this encounter, so I quickly turned back over so I couldn’t see her. I could still feel her presence, though. Finally, I summoned up the courage to roll back over to face her. But she was gone.

I was so intrigued by this event that the next morning I went downstairs into the restaurant to inquire about my mysterious visitor. The owners didn’t know anything about her. I searched upstairs, one flight above me, in the only other room in the

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building to see if I could find any clues about this young woman.

Nothing. The room was empty. There wasn’t even a door to keep people out, just a hollow room. I never discovered who this mysterious person was or the reason she came to me. And she never returned, at least not as of the writing of this book.

I have since learned that spirits are attracted to those who are sensitive to them. However, at that time I didn’t understand that I had any such sensitivities. I have come to believe that this encounter was meant to bring my attention to the fact that there is much more out there than we can see with our physical eyes. There is direction and guidance to be had, if only we ask. There are spirits who wish to assist us in our growth, but we have to recognize this first in order to seek what we do not currently have. We have to acknowledge that life is not only what we can hold in our hands or rationalize in our minds. And so my journey began. I was a Piscean Secretariat, released from the gate and proceeding at a slow pace at first until I gathered my will to forge ahead at great speed.

I read books on astrology, candle burning, and, of course, anything involving Edgar Cayce, like everyone else who is on a spiritual quest does. My eyes opened. My heart expanded. My life broadened.

Marriage Number Two At some point, probably during a rebellious stage in my maturing, I quit my job in Washington, DC, and became a cocktail waitress at the hotel in town. I had lived in the hotel for a couple months while making my transition from the tenant house to my apartment, so I knew everyone working there very well. It was an

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old hotel, and the nightclub was a hot spot for people to gather.

To the average reader, working at a nightclub probably seems like another example of the many dumb choices I made, but you must understand that I had been so sheltered for so long that I longed to experience life. Working in a nightclub seemed exciting to me—and necessary for my future.

It wasn’t long before I was bartending, having observed and practiced the art. I thought life was pretty good behind the bar. I made decent money, knew lots of people, and enjoyed the bands that came in to play. And it was here, at the age of twenty-four, that I met my second husband, a musician and singer. I will call him Tom. With Tom came both good and so-called bad experiences. The so-called bad experiences taught me a great deal about humankind and myself. I definitely matured, because at times I was the only mature one in the marriage, although he was seven years older than me. I was determined that we would become a normal, happily married couple, despite all the minefields that were on our paths. We would have children, like normal people do. We would have a house, and so forth. Well, the house part did happen, but the children part did not. Due to Tom’s alcoholism, he wasn’t able to father children. But I had plenty of furry children to focus my maternal instincts on, so I never felt any loss, and to this day I do not have any regrets about never having raised children.

This marriage was important to my development as a medium because it exposed me to a new reality and eventually brought me to where I needed to be to fulfill my destiny. That’s all wonderful in hindsight, but living through the marriage wasn’t

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particularly pleasant. As a matter of fact, it was horrendous at times because of my husband’s drinking. But there was one good aspect about the marriage, and that was that Tom had had experiences seeing spirits—and I do not mean the liquid kind.

When my husband was a young teenager, his grandfather came to him in the middle of the night—in spirit. The purpose of the visit was to say goodbye to his beloved grandson. The old man sat on the edge of the bed and woke Tom from a sound sleep. He told him he was gone from his body and that Tom would be informed by his mother in the morning of his passing.

In the morning, Tom’s mother did come into his bedroom and tell Tom that his grandfather had passed away during the night.

After this first visit, the grandfather came in spirit to see Tom when life was difficult or to foretell an event that would be important in his life. As it happened, after we first met, the grandfather came to Tom to announce that Tom was going to marry me.

And so I became Tom’s second wife, and he my second husband.

We were married for seven years, and had this not been my second marriage, it definitely would not have lasted that long.

I soon learned that it was not uncommon for normal, everyday people to receive visits from the spirit world. Tom’s stepfather, who we will call Murray, had also received visitations from his relatives. I once witnessed Murray talking to his father’s spirit in the kitchen while I was in the living room. Apparently, this was a normal event for Murray, and a welcome one at that. Murray loved having these visits, feeling comforted after his wife passed away and being given guidance about whether to move from Ohio to Florida.

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For me, this was a totally new reality. My parents had never said anything about receiving visits from relatives or anyone else in the spirit world. The most unusual thing I can recall that I was ever told by my parents was that I had a distant aunt, by marriage, who read cards. I don’t remember her name, and I never had the pleasure of meeting her. She was sort of a well-kept secret, and more than likely was thought of as an embarrassment.

I find it odd that my mother never shared anything unusual about herself with me. You see, she was born with a caul over her face. Babies born with a caul, which is often called a veil, are supposed to be psychic or have spiritual gifts of some sort. Surely my mother must have felt things that she couldn’t see and known things that others did not. But she never shared anything with me other than practical matters. After I became a medium, my mother actually embraced my profession. She said she didn’t really understand it but that everything was just fine with her. I suspect that she had encounters with spirits or a knowingness that she didn’t understand but chose to ignore them. I’ll never know.

Fortunately, I was very open to the experiences I was having in this marriage and completely accepted everything. I look back now and believe that I was being primed for the future, led every step of the way to my destiny. I think you will agree as you travel this path with me.

The Limit A person can endure only so much, and then they reach their limit. After six years of marriage, I did just that: I reached my limit. I had gone through things like Tom becoming unnecessar-

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ily jealous (because he was drunk ) over a patron paying attention to me at his regular gig and then losing his lucrative job after hitting the man. Then there were the evenings when I would come home after work to find my husband passed out on the couch, with a quart of beer turned on its side (no doubt the second), soaking the carpet. I demanded that he quit drinking and attend Alcoholics Anonymous. By this time, with so much water under the bridge, I really had no feelings left for him. So my thought was that he had better make this work—or else.

Tom was well behaved for about a year before he fell off the wagon again. I reached my limit again when I received a phone call at 3:00 A.M. informing me that Tom had sideswiped four parked vehicles in a neighborhood located in the worst part of Columbus, Ohio. I loaded up my large, overly protective boxer into my hatchback and headed to where Tom was being held by the police. I remember sitting in the back of the police cruiser, talking to my somewhat-sober-by-then husband and thinking, What an idiot! The line had been irrevocably crossed.

Tom recognized that I was done with him, so he decided to join his stepfather in Florida. The plan was that I would initiate the divorce and remain in Columbus, although I intensely disliked the bitter cold and snow there. The weather was worse than what I was used to in the D.C. metropolitan area, but I wasn’t about to move home near my parents. Besides, I had nowhere else to go.

However, it wasn’t long before Tom called to say he missed me terribly and asked if I would consider moving to Florida. I admit, this had all the appearances of being a bad idea, but I decided

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I would give the marriage one last try. I guess that’s just the Piscean way: always hopeful. But the stipulation was that he had to quit drinking and attend AA meetings. Nothing less would satisfy me. Tom agreed to my terms.

So I transferred from my job with a known insurance company in Columbus to a position in Orlando, Florida, where a new office was scheduled to open in three months. I sold the townhouse, packed, and arranged for a moving van. Tom would fly to Columbus to drive the moving van to Florida while I drove my car. Tom didn’t have a car since he had totaled his in the accident.

Everything was neatly planned out.

Unfortunately, I was sick when Tom was due to arrive at the airport. I called and left messages everywhere to let him know to take a cab home, but he didn’t receive them. Later, as I lay on the couch, Tom arrived by taxi and entered the house—completely drunk. He was also angry that I hadn’t been at the airport to pick him up. As they say, the handwriting was on the wall. I had sold our home and arranged to move, and I even had a job waiting for me in Florida. I had to go, whether Tom was sober or drunk. I had no choice in the matter.

At this point it probably seems like I made a horrendous mistake, doesn’t it? But remember, I believe mistakes are not really mistakes but rather are lessons to be learned—and I was about to learn a biggie! Also, this was my destiny. I just didn’t know it at the time. I had to be in Florida for everything else to fall into place.

We rented an apartment, but it didn’t take long before Dr. Jekyll turned into Mr. Hyde and life was resembling that of the one I thought I had left behind in Ohio. Tom stole money out of my wal-

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

let to buy beer and stayed home drinking. Nothing had changed.

Also, Tom still didn’t have a job, even after being in Florida for several weeks before me! I, on the other hand, had four job offers to choose from to tide me over until my insurance job began.

Two weeks after arriving in Florida, I reached my limit with Tom for the third and definitely final time. I informed Tom that he had two weeks to find another place to live and I would find a roommate who would be able to pay at least half the rent on the apartment. Not knowing anyone in Florida and not having any relatives in the state, I placed an ad for a roommate in the newspaper. I settled on a nice woman to split the rent and utilities for my two-bedroom, two-bath apartment. The best part was that she never spent a single night in the apartment, preferring to stay at her boyfriend’s house.

I think I was brave to commit to living in Orlando, Florida, where I knew no one. My parents thought I had gone stark raving mad when I agreed to move and then stayed there when the tide predictably turned rough. But the final outcome was that I followed my path to my destiny. It wasn’t a smooth road; it was riddled with bumps and gullies and looked at first like a series of bad choices. However, despite appearances, I was progressing along my path. If I had not gone to Florida, would any of the rest of this have happened? I don’t see how it could have.

The Road to Mediumship Once I was settled into my new living arrangement with a complete stranger as my roommate and moved on with the process of divorce, I began dating a man I will call Brian. This man played

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

a key role in my journey, because he literally placed me on the road where I needed to be in order to fulfill my destiny.

Brian had received psychic readings from a particular medium named Ruth Callen, who was located in Orlando, Florida. Brian encouraged me to get a reading from her, because I had never had such an experience before and he felt it would be of value.

After all, I was heading in a new direction with my life as a soonto-be single woman in a different state. I eagerly scheduled an appointment for what would turn out to be a life-changing event.

I arrived at the woman’s apartment at the appropriate time and sat across from her. She was elderly, tall, and very thin. Ruth, who is in spirit at the time of this writing, began the reading and gave me a lot of information, none of which I can remember today. While I don’t remember the details of what she said, what made such an impression on me was not really so much the information I received, but rather Ruth’s abilities as a medium. I walked away from that reading wanting to do what she did! I began taking classes with Ruth.

Today, in retrospect, I have to believe that not having been exposed to a reader previously contributed to my awe of this woman. Also, some of my experiences over the years had me primed for acceptance. I thought she was wonderful and gifted, so much so that I wanted to learn how she did those amazing things. This felt like where I belonged.

I joined Ruth’s class to learn to meditate. A group of us met for two hours on Tuesday evenings in her apartment. I was in heaven! Meditation came easily to me. At the second class I at-

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

tended, I remember seeing cartoon figures of Native Americans in a meditation. Then I clearly saw a woman with long brown hair who was obviously in pain in a hospital bed. The next scene was the same woman lying in a white coffin, dressed in white, with white candles lit all around the coffin’s edge in a dark room.

Fleetingly, I saw the Grim Reaper. What a meditation to have had!

That was the last time I attended Ruth’s class, because three days later, on Good Friday, I became the woman I had seen in pain in the hospital bed. I had foreseen my potential to pass from this world into the next.

What occurred leading up to this situation was that I had been in the front seat of a tiny Honda Civic without a seatbelt on, sitting beside my boyfriend, Brian. We weren’t required by law to use seatbelts at that time. I was told later that a much larger car had turned in front of our vehicle and Brian broadsided it. I was thrown to the floorboards after bouncing against the dashboard a couple times, one hand striking the windshield glass. I have no memory of the accident. I just remember waking up in the intensive care unit of the hospital the next morning.

The crash caused a concussion, ten broken ribs, a punctured and partially collapsed lung, and a damaged knee, along with numerous lacerations to my legs and cuts on my hands. Mercifully, my face was unharmed. Although beaten up, I was lucky to be alive.

Years later a medium told me that after the crash occurred, my soul had to choose whether to leave or stay. Obviously, my choice was to stay, if you accept that interpretation. My friend Peggy

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

Adkins, also a medium in Cassadaga, suggested that I did foresee my accident when I saw the woman in pain in the hospital bed but that the coffin scene and the Grim Reaper could have a more symbolic interpretation, such as representing the death of my old life.

When I think about that interpretation, I recall that many of my friends vanished after the accident and many of my problems were resolved, and a new life truly did begin for me. So I would tend to lean toward that interpretation as being the accurate one. My life really did change dramatically, as you will see.

When I returned to my apartment after being discharged from the hospital, I was living in a cheaper apartment with a different roommate. I had to hobble around on one lacerated leg because the bandages on the knee of the other one restricted it from bending, forcing me to use a crutch temporarily. With ten broken ribs I had great difficulty breathing, and God forbid I should sneeze or cough!

I recuperated at home for two weeks before returning to work. Even then, I had to prop my one leg up on a desk drawer and sit with a pillow behind my back. If you have ever broken any ribs, you know how painful it is just to exist for a couple months.

I persevered, although I did need support and encouragement from other people, especially my boyfriend. Unfortunately, Brian wasn’t there for me.

After I returned to work, Brian decided to end our relationship. I have to imagine he felt such guilt, having been the driver in the accident. I was a constant reminder of this unfortunate event as I hobbled around on my bad leg. The breakup shook me to my core. I was ill-prepared to handle an emotional breakup at a

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

time when I had been physically traumatized and injured. I sank into a depressed state. Physically, emotionally, and mentally I was one messed-up woman. I needed help, so I took a course in Silva Mind Control, which I thought might help me regain some sense of normal. I also found another meditation class to attend. But nothing worked to bring me around. I believe it was too soon for me to achieve positive results.

During this time of healing, I experienced a very interesting event. I was in bed, sleeping on my back, when I woke up. This was odd because I never slept on my back at that time in my life, but there I found myself on my back. Then I saw Jesus hovering above me, parallel to my body. It felt like his entire body was pressing into every inch of mine, from forehead to toes. I knew I wasn’t dreaming. It was all so real, and interesting too. I wasn’t a practicing Protestant, so Jesus was not on my mind. Needless to say, it was quite an experience, and one that I feel was meant to heal me.

At that time in 1980, we didn’t have cable television to watch.

On the weekends when I was not working, I relied on the TV for something to do, but the only thing available was sports, which I didn’t like. There was no HBO, no HSN, not even HGTV—nothing exciting to entertain me or at least give me something to do.

So I sat alone in the apartment, crying. During one of these sad times, my roommate, Angela, came home and caught me crying.

She could see I wasn’t rebounding from my accident, so she suggested I accompany her to a meditation class in the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp. She made arrangements with the teacher for me to attend, and off we went the next Tuesday night.

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

Cassadaga, Spiritualism, and Classes I always like to say that once I arrived at Cassadaga, I never left.

Cassadaga basically saved my life, which is the same sentiment so many others have expressed when life has been unkind to them.

This quaint little village attracts thousands of visitors each year from all over the world. The Southern Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp Meeting Association, its formal name, is the oldest continuously existing religious community in the South and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It is located between Orlando and Daytona Beach.

George P. Colby is credited with being the founder of the Spiritualist camp at Cassadaga. Born January 6, 1848, in Pike, New York, George was guided by Seneca and his other spirit guides along a footpath and then through pathless wilds to an area that looked exactly like it had been shown to George during a sĂŠance.

Part of that area was destined to become the Southern Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp Meeting Association. The year was 1875.

You might wonder what inspires people to come to Cassadaga. There are several answers to that question. Some people are drawn to the Spiritualist community because they wish to receive a reading from one of the resident mediums. Others come because they are grieving and have a desire to communicate with their deceased loved ones through the assistance of a medium.

Students attend classes to develop their mediumship abilities.

Sometimes there is a need to escape for the day to a peaceful, serene environment, a place that seems to have been lost in time.

Cassadaga is not the only Spiritualist camp in the United States, although it is one of the few remaining. At one time there 26

Childhood Memories and Beyond

were many such camps that popped up after the establishment of the Spiritualist movement, whose origins date to March 31, 1848.

On that evening, in Hydesville, New York, the Fox sisters once again heard unexplained noises in their cottage. Margaret, fifteen, and Kate, twelve, developed a system of rapping to communicate with the spirit making the noise, whom they believed to be Charles B. Rosna, a man who had been a peddler until he was murdered in the cottage. His body and peddler’s pack were eventually found buried in the cellar. From these meager beginnings grew the philosophy, science, and religion of Spiritualism—and many Spiritualist camps, such as Cassadaga.

Cassadaga’s sister camp is Lily Dale Assembly, located in Lily Dale, New York. In the late 1800s many Spiritualists living in Lily Dale were searching for a winter home in Florida, so they were eager to establish this new Spiritualist community in Cassadaga. Spiritualists from Lily Dale, Massachusetts, and the Midwest erected cottages, an assembly area, a hotel, a church and some apartment buildings. Some of those buildings still stand today. Most of the houses we see currently are turn-of-the-twentieth-century cottages. Some are quite lovely, while others need upgrading. I ended up renting apartment number two in Brigham Hall for a meager $75 a month after my introduction to Cassadaga.

I was in the perfect environment to learn about everything that is spiritual, mediumistic, and psychic from highly reputable teachers. I attended classes religiously, eager to learn. Did I want to learn to read photographs? You bet I did! How about doing some detective work? Of course! Whatever challenges were offered by my teacher I eagerly accepted. However, the training I

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was receiving at that time was strictly the development of psychic abilities, no mediumship training. That would come later, with other teachers.

I will refer to my teacher at that time as Jeff. The unusual thing about this teacher was that he didn’t appreciate spirits. Jeff couldn’t see the benefit of contacting the spirit world, yet he was perfectly capable of doing so. He was aware of spirits in his house and other places, but if spirits entered his readings, Jeff would dismiss them.

I remember walking down the hallway of Jeff ’s house when he asked me if I knew of a person in spirit who had been a police officer. He described the man as having dark hair and blue eyes and being clean-shaven. After I thought for a moment, I said, “Yes, that would have been Michael. But I don’t know if he’s alive or in spirit.”

“He’s in spirit now,” said Jeff. “He was walking beside you as you came down the hall.”

Michael had been a boyfriend of mine in between my first and second husbands. He had worked for the local, small-town police department when I lived in West Virginia. He was very Irish, with black hair and beautiful blue eyes. Quite a good-looking guy, he was, but a very heavy drinker. After I left the state, I lost track of him. (In 2017 I tried to locate him on the internet but didn’t uncover anything to indicate whether he was alive or in spirit.)

There was a room in that house downstairs in the basement that held a strong vibe. It is unusual to have a basement in Florida, but the house was built on a hill, so there actually was a basement area that included a garage and a makeshift storage area

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

on one side. On the other side of the staircase was a bathroom, an open area, and a room where séances were once held by the previous owner, a noted medium. Yes, a séance room! Every time I walked from the bottom of the stairs and through that room to the open area, oh, the feeling I would have! It was like there was a room full of people there waiting for me to enter. As I walked through, I always felt like someone was behind me, following me, and there probably was at least one spirit doing just that. It wasn’t much better in the open area, either.

One time I was in that open area, where I really did not prefer to be, and was looking in a mirror with the séance room reflected behind me. There was such a strong sensation of someone, or many someones, standing behind me. Probably many, because although I couldn’t see them but only feel them, the sensation was really intense. I looked behind me but saw nothing. Cautiously, I looked in the mirror again, but I still didn’t see anyone behind me in the reflection. It was a creepy feeling to be stared at by spirits.

Oddly, the other side of the staircase held a totally different energy. To me, at least, it felt normal to be in that area or the garage below, but not once I crossed over to the old séance room and the open area—creepy! Obviously, my sensitivity to the spirits was acute. I felt their presence even if I didn’t actually see them. I was a medium in training without any instructions—at least none from the living.

Jeff asked me to house-sit while he was speaking at a psychic center in Virginia. I slept in the only bedroom in the house, certainly not wanting to sleep downstairs in the séance room where there was actually a bed available. No way was I brave enough

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to sleep there. One night while asleep, I awoke to movement— mine! I was moving backward across the bed in my semi-fetal sleeping position. I started crying! Didn’t the spirits like me? Were they mad at me? Why were they pushing me backward toward the edge of the bed?

This was a real dilemma for me, being a tiny woman. The bed was large and high, and I was afraid that if I were pushed off it, I would land on my back and be injured. I told whatever was causing this action to stop, that I was afraid I was going to fall and hurt myself. The motion ceased. I was so shook-up by this that I had to get up and turn on the light. I was not a happy person at that moment! Obviously, I couldn’t go back to sleep that night.

When Jeff returned home, I relayed to him what had happened. He assured me that the spirits meant no harm and were probably testing me. Testing me? Why would they test me? That sounded ridiculous.

Jeff explained that the spirits were probably testing my abilities to see how much control I had. Because I had told them to stop what they were doing, I had exercised control over them, and they had complied. I had passed the test. I never received any further “testing” similar to this again in that house. Thank goodness!

While I lived in apartment number two in Brigham Hall, some interesting events occurred. Perhaps they were more spirit tests? They were definitely experiences of note. This was the perfect location for such events because the building had been finished around 1897. It was originally a lodging house, and four apartments were constructed, running from the front to the back on two floors. Each apartment had three rooms and a bath added

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

on at the end. A long staircase rose between the two sides to the second floor.

One evening while I was lying on the couch watching TV in my living room, I heard my name called from the hallway. It was as clear as I had ever heard my name called, and I thought I knew who the person calling my name was. I rose from the couch to open the front door, fully expecting to see someone standing there. No one was there. No one visible to the ordinary eye, that is. So I shut the door and resumed watching TV. This “hearing your name called” is a common thing that spirits like to do to us.

I guess they want to get our attention, or maybe it’s another test.

Whatever the intention, it certainly makes a person take notice.

This occurred several times over the years I lived there.

Another event occurred there while I was sleeping. I awoke on my left side, facing the wall in my double bed, which was situated in the right corner of the bedroom. All at once I became aware of movement and the sensation of someone being right behind me.

Then the bed dipped downward, indicating that someone had sat down directly behind my back. Suddenly I heard a whooshing sound. It was as if hurricane-force winds were blowing across my right exposed ear. I didn’t appreciate this one bit, so I closed my eyes tightly and visualized a white light in my mind. In my head I kept repeating “Go to the light.” I also visualized dark blobs traveling into the light. I added on the sentiment “Be healed.” Everything stopped. The whooshing noise ceased. The bed raised to its normal position. Calm reigned.

Again, what was the purpose of this event? I can only conclude that it was a test or perhaps just something spirit wanted

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Childhood Memories and Beyond

me to experience. Then again, maybe this visiting spirit had slept in that room during their time in the living. Some years later, one medium suggested that the spirit may have wanted to simulate sex with me. I had always felt this was a male spirit, so that idea gave me the heebie-jeebies.

During the time I lived in that apartment, I experienced energy so thick that it was like a heavy fog had fallen into the apartment. I remember thinking that the sensation was so heavy, I could slice it with a knife. Other times I heard people walking up the staircase in the hallway. That was impossible, though, because I was the only one living in the building at that time.

There was also the occasional sound of someone walking about overhead on the second floor. I always felt that was the spirit of Sarah Brigham, who in her day was a doctor and a Spiritualist. She was one of the pioneer female doctors in the medical profession, having graduated in 1856 from the Eclectic Medical College in Cincinnati, Ohio. Sarah and her husband, Dr. Hubbard Brigham, owned the lodging house until 1913, at which time they sold it to the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp, who later turned it into an apartment building.

The whole time I lived in Brigham Hall, I was in training by the spirits. I was their captive student, an attractor of spirits. This experience made me realize that besides being clairvoyant, I’m also clairsentient—that is, I feel spirit energy. I’m also clairaudient, meaning I hear spirits. What a joyful time that was!

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Body, Mind & Spirit / Psychic Medium

Guidance & Healing

From the Other Side

Have you ever felt the presence of a spirit subtly guiding you in life?

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Elizabeth Owens was certified as a medium in 1984 and ordained

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