Embracing the Spirits: True Stories of My Encounters With the Other Side (24 page)

to dismiss them without investigating further. So with that,

we decided to attend the circle at least one more time, to give Baka the opportunity to convince us all the more.

As we sat reminiscing about our late grandmother, Anita

reminded me of something I had completely forgotten about

(or perhaps I never knew at all.)

“You know Baka was absolutely obsessed with boxing and

wrestling, don’t you?” she said.

“Really? “I laughed.

“Oh yeah,” said Anita. “She’d be glued to it for hours!”

I suddenly thought of the large flashing light which unwav-

eringly appears in our TV room whenever Stu and our friend,

Dean watch the
Ultimate Fighter Competition.
As soon as I thought of it, I was flushed with the unmistakable conviction that the light is connected to Baka.

I’ve often commented on the bright flashes which appear

on fight night. Since they are usually positioned beside Dean, I had always thought that the spirit lights must have belonged to his guide. But now I think otherwise, and the next time UFC

screens, I’ll be ready with my camera, asking if Baka would

like to appear in my photo!

hapter twenty-two

G h o s t l y G u a r d i a n s

When I reflect on my most frightening paranormal encoun-

ters, I wonder if I’ve misconstrued the attentions of some

ghosts as sinister, when in fact, there was a more benevolent

motivation at play.

I have come across numerous accounts whereby peo-

ple have imagined themselves to be victimised by unwanted

ghostly attention, when in reality, the spirit was trying to protect or warn them.

This was certainly the case with a lady named Tracey,

whose unsettling visitations were a concerned ghost’s way of

delivering a timely warning.

Tracey works as a critic for a local newspaper, and we

became acquainted through my publicity campaign for my

first book,
In the Presence of Spirits.
What began as a professional relationship quickly progressed to a friendship, as

Tracey and I discovered we were kindred souls with a predi-

lection for the paranormal. It wasn’t long before Tracey told

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198 Ghostly Guardians

me about some of her own encounters with spirits, the most

memorable of which happened when she was just fourteen

years old.

Together with her mother and younger sister, Tracey

moved into a gracious, two-storey Queenslander, just a twenty

minute drive from Brisbane. Although there was a palpable

presence in their new home, the family did not find the energy threatening. In fact, the house felt welcoming and somehow

familiar, to the point where the two girls made instant bee-

lines for the bedrooms they would occupy. There was no

hesitation and no arguments, it was as though there was no

question as to where the girls belonged.

Another advantage of the Woodridge home was that it

housed a granny flat. This was the perfect arrangement for

Tracey’s single mother, who happily ensconced her mother in

the downstairs apartment.

Tracey tells me that it wasn’t long before she suspected

that the house was haunted, and was particularly sensitive to

a wandering presence at night. Her bedroom sat right beside

the staircase, and she repetitively heard footsteps marching up and down the stairs. Uncomprehendingly, she also heard the

clatter of the front door being secured with a chain. This was most bizarre, as the door didn’t have a chain at all, just a simple, single-key lock.

Night after night, the routine was the same; Tracey heard

footsteps on the stairs followed by the jangling, non-existent chain.

When Tracey questioned her grandmother, the elderly

woman was quick to assure her that she had no desire or inten-

tion of running up and down the staircase! Nor had she ever

Ghostly Guardians 199

done so. And even if she had, there was still no explanation for the sound of the invisible door chain.

After several nights of the inexplicable noises, Tracey

began to feel increasingly unsettled.

“I began to freak out!” she told me. The presence began to

dominate Tracey’s nights and rob her of her sleep. “I begged

my mother to help, but she didn’t know how. She had no idea

what to do. Maybe she thought I was just being a silly teen-

ager!”

Then one night it dawned on her, that just maybe, the vis-

its could be some kind of warning.
Perhaps the ghost wanted a
chain on the door
…
maybe there had been one there in the past.

By now, Tracey was so rattled by it all, that anything was

worth a try. She spoke to her mother and insisted that she

install a chain. Immediately!

Being a single, working mother, the last thing she wanted

to do was traipse around during her lunch hour trying to pro-

cure a door chain; but Tracey was insistent. Her mother had

little choice but to give in to her daughter’s wishes, it seemed the only way to calm her down.

By the time her mother came home that evening, Tracey

was bouncing with nervous energy. She insisted that the

lock be installed at once. Although probably hindering more

than helping, Tracey tried to assist in the installation process.

(All the while cautious not to annoy her already exasperated

mother!)

Later that night, Tracey fell asleep easily, confident that she had experienced the last of the troubling visitations. Little did she know that she was soon to be roused by something much

louder and infinitely more disturbing.

200 Ghostly Guardians

The household was awoken sometime after midnight; by

an almighty banging coming from the front door. Somebody

was trying to force it open, but it was mercifully holding fast thanks to the newly-installed chain.

Terrified, Tracey peered out of her bedroom window, and

was horrified by what she saw. A naked man wearing only

shoes and socks, was determinedly trying to get in. Worst of

all, he was holding a knife in his hand. Tracey screamed for her mother.

Meanwhile, the intruder gave up on the front door and

bolted around the back. Moments later, the petrified family

could hear him banging and shaking the back door, trying his

best to get in.

Tracey’s mother wasted no time in calling the police. She

returned to the window a moment later, just in time to see the man dash into the next door neighbours’ backyard.

He went on to easily make his way into the neighbours’

house, where he proceeded to terrorise the poor woman and

her infant son. Although unharmed, they were bailed up for

several minutes until the police arrived, and were understand-

ably shaken.

Reflecting on these events now, Tracey recalls the whole

episode with positivity. Although it was distressing at the time, it was heartening to think that a spirit had been trying to forewarn her family and protect them from potential tragedy.

Given his nakedness, one can only assume that the intruder

was mentally unbalanced. Who knows what tragedy could

have unfolded had the police not come? The brand-new door

chain had not only prevented the man from getting in, but it

had given the family time to summon the police and also save

the neighbours.

Ghostly Guardians 201

“We do indeed have spirits watching out for us,” Tracey

smiled. “Sometimes we just need to be reminded! Your book

has given me a gentle poke to start looking for them again …”

I agree wholeheartedly. Embracing the presence of spir-

its is seldom less than awe-inspiring; it’s a life-changing and precious gift. And even in those times when the frightening

seems to overshadow the wonderful; it’s wise to sit back and

take stock of the situation from another perspective. Is some-

one really trying to frighten you? Or are they just trying to get your attention?

In Tracey’s case, she feels it is more than coincidental that

her beloved grandfather passed away not long before her fam-

ily moved into their new home.

Looking back now, Tracey tells me she doesn’t think that

the Woodridge house was haunted. Although the energy

within its walls was hard to ignore, it never felt oppressive or negative. Rather than housing ghosts from its past, Tracey suspects that they may have brought a spirit of their own; that of her much-loved grandfather.

“I truly believe it was my Poppa just looking out for his

girls … me, my sis, Mum and of course his wife, my Nanna!”

Interestingly enough, Tracey heard no further disem-

bodied footsteps or clattering chains after the night in ques-

tion. Hardly surprising really, as the spirit’s mission had been accomplished. A spirit who I suspect was indeed Tracey’s

grandfather, continuing to keep a watchful eye on his beloved

girls.

M a r n i e

When I discovered that my next patient was ninety five years

old, I expected a doddery old woman to come shuffling

through the door. The reality couldn’t have been more differ-

ent. Although a little hard of hearing, Marnie was as lucid as someone half her age. She was present and engaging, with a

healthy dose of cheekiness. Even her clothes defined her as

someone just that little bit
different,
swathed as she was in a black and white caftan. She had teamed its generous folds of

fabric with a pair of long black leggings. As far as first impressions go, it was hard to not be impressed!

Marnie enjoyed having a captive audience and spoke almost

incessantly while I worked. She was forthright with her opin-

ions and frequently had me chuckling; it felt more like a social engagement than work when Marnie was around.

She went on to tell me that she would soon be going on a

long-anticipated holiday, and was very excited at the prospect of a week spent in the country.

203

204 Marnie

The beautiful Marnie.

“Where are you off to?” I asked.

“Well …” said Marnie with a clap of her hands. “It’s some-

where really fun; an old school house that was built in the 1800’s!”

My interest was instantly piqued, and I wondered if Mar-

nie was going to stay at the Ellington School House. I immedi-

ately thought of the two gorgeous spirit boys I had met there

a month or so earlier. I’d been intending to go back ever since.

Marnie confirmed that it was indeed the same school

house. I was undecided as to whether I should share the details of my stay with her, so I approached the subject tentatively

without giving anything away.

“So Marnie …” I asked offhandedly. “Do you believe in

ghosts?”

Marnie leaned in towards me with a conspiratorial smile.

“I should think so,” she said. “It’d be hard not to after what I’ve been through!”

Marnie 205

Marnie needed little encouragement; a moment later she

was telling me about her first ghostly encounter. Despite hap-

pening over seventy years ago, the memory remained as vivid

as if it happened a few days ago. Marnie could still picture the tormented apparition whom she encountered in a hallway of

the Fremantle Arts Centre.

“I heard her first,” she told me. “As clear as a bell. The poor woman was crying her heart out …”

Marnie described how she was on her way to an art class

when she heard the plaintive sobbing echoing through the

stairwell. It seemed to Marnie that the crying was getting progressively louder, so she looked around to see if she could find the distraught woman and try to comfort her.

“I turned to look behind me; I couldn’t seem to pinpoint

where the sound was coming from. I called out but there was

no response, just the incessant crying …”

As Marnie reached the top of the stairs and headed down

the corridor, she saw the weeping woman approaching from

the other end. She called out to ask her if she was OK, but as before, the woman just kept crying.

“I could see her as plain as day,” said Marnie, who thought

it odd that the woman was dressed in Victorian-style cloth-

ing. “She was wearing a high-waisted brown skirt with a puff-

sleeved blouse … and one of those frilly white morning caps.”

Marnie wondered if perhaps the woman was an actress,

which would account for her old-fashioned dress. She was yet

to register that the woman was a ghost and kept calling out to her. Within seconds they were right in front of one another,