A BREAK AWAY MOMENT HERE AT ADLANDPRO Everyone loves a story and its a great way to get away from the mononetany of working at the computer. So sit back and read stories that are weird and unexplained by our not so weird, bizarre, strange members of Adlandpro who are just dying to tell what they have never been able to tell anyone else. You can read and/or post but you will need to click on "E-mail me when someone posts". Who knows you may have a story to read each day and then just when you least expect it something out of the ordinary will happen, come here and share your story. There will be no little men in white jackets and you won't hear anyone say "No way, your crazy". This is a great place to spit it all out. You don't have to identify yourself (Oh, like we don't see your profile)!!!! or the location if you want to stay anonamous. No Couch fees either or you can send a small counseling fee. Now this should benefit all of us. Here we go---remember to click on "notify me"

While cleaning out a drawer I found an article about the death of Mary Kay Ash, founder of Mary Kay Cosmetics. She is my idol having used her products. Note: that is why at 66 I look like 34. Anyway, I reluctantly threw it away and returnd to the computer to open e-mails. A nice e-mail from Bogdan, our CEO and founder had just popped up so being greedy I wanted to be the first to post. He has a regular forum on famous quotes of famous people. To my amazement, what should appear. Yep a quote from Mary Kay Ash. He was writing and posting at the time I was reading a very old newspaper clipping. **********************************************************

Now I know someone can top that story. After all that can be explained. My mouse was reading over my shoulder and sent a message to Bogdan.

Hi, Mary,

I think two of the wierdest things that happened to me certainly enter the twilight zone.

After I had my first major surgery, I returned home to my apartment at the top of Reigate Hill in Surrey.

The Apartment next to ours was inhabited (for want of a better word) by hippies. They were nice enough people but had a way of looking at the world that I found strange.

One night they invited my wife and I to an 'event', a sort of hippy gathering, which we were delighted to accept because they were marvelous hosts and had many wonderful musicians in their number.

A great time was had by all and, at midnight, it was decided to have a Ouija session using the letter cards from a childrens' game and an ordinary drinking glass. While my wife and I were not over keen on the idea, I was talked in to joining in. The questions started with the usual nonsense but the answers seemed to be correct and then someone asked the question "Who are you?".

All of us with a finger on the glass felt a huge heat from it (I had a blister for two weeks) and then the glass flew over the heads of everybody to smash against the wall over the fireplace. The shattered glass fell to cause a perfect circle in the hearth and the temperature in the room fell to what felt like freezing point.

I've never use Ouija since.

About two weeks later my wife and I were in bed when I heard another of my neighbours calling out for me. Margaret couldn't hear anything but I definitely could hear these calls.

I got dressed and looked around outside to find out what was wrong but couldn't see or hear anything so went back inside. As soon as I closed our front door, I could hear my neighbour again, calling for me.

Naturally I was very tempted to assume he was playing a trick on me but his voice sounded faint and anguished. There was no way I could get to sleep with him calling out like that so I went round to where he lived (a good 500 yards away) but, as I got near to his door his voice faded away.

By this time I was feeling just a little peeved because it all seemed so very much like a bad joke and walking 500 yards was quite an enormous task - until I tripped over his feet as I walked round his car.

He had been working on his car that afternoon and had not put chocks under the wheels but used the 'park' position on his automatic gear box. He had intended to balance the prop shaft and forgotten that, if he removed it, there was nothing to stop the car from moving. He removed it while lying full length under the car and it had simply rolled off the jacks and fallen on top of him.

He was unconscious when I found him and in early stage hypothermia combined with shock from three cracked ribs - he would not have survived the night and certainly had not been calling for me - but I heard him.

The Old Coot 

Thanks Mary,

Great stories Arthur,

also, An area in the UK that I know.

Seven years ago, my grand daughter was 3 years old and we have always had a special relationship.

My wife was looking after Sophie for the day and I had promised to call home at lunchtime to have a little to eat and see them both.

I had gone to cut a hedge for somebody about a mile away. I was too lazy to bother to tie my ladder and whilst cutting the hedge with a big professional hedgecutter my ladder twisted.

My first reaction was to grab the hedge and of couse I grabbed the hedgecutter blade instead. I cut one finger very badly and so was forced to stop and check the damage to my hand.

The cut was very bad so decided that I would have to get myself to the local Accident and Emergency Centre a mile away. Firstly I thought, I must ring my wife, tell her what has happened and that I would not be going home to lunch.

I got my cellphone and as I went to make the call I saw that I had a missed call, (usual when hedgecutting as machine is pretty noisy) checked and found it was from home.

I pressed the call button and my wife said immediately ''I've been trying to get hold of you in the last five minutes. Sophie wanted to know if you were ok, I had told her that of course Granddad was ok but she insisted I call, she was very agitated. When I rang and you didn't answer. Sophie was worried''

I then told my wife what had happened and she was as amazed as me. My grand daughter still thinks it's COOL.

Roger

Hi, Roger,

It's nice to find someone that knows an area I am talking about. You might even know the house I lived in - it was called Pilgrims Holt - a huge great place divided into apartments of equally monstrous size.

We had a sitting room that was 40 feet square and over 18 feet high in the middle. There was one part of it near the middle of the floor, only about a square yard in size, that was always freezing cold. We never did find out why that was but it came in handy in summer (we had hot ones in those days) for helping us cool down and keeping our drinks cool on a table.

There were many strange tales told of the ghosts of pilgrims who had died or been killed on their pilgrimages to Canterbury. We often saw strange lights around Reigate Hill and Box Hill but rationalised them as reflections from Gatwick Airport which is not so far away.

Our son was a baby at the Holt and was always having conversations with people who weren't there. When he was about three years old we called in our parish priest because he was 'playing' with a ghost - literally!

He would roll a ball and then sit with a huge grin on his face and hold his hands wide as if to catch a return - and the ball would be rolled back to him (and I don't mean like it was simply rolling down a slope, we could see the action of invisible hands or feet upon the ball)! 

The priest blessed our apartment and told us that we were very lucky to have benevolent spirits around us. We never felt fear - only bafflement.

The Old Coot

ps. These experiences, and many others, are among the reasons that my life has been spent searching for answers.