Jump

I have been able to see, hear, and feel ghosts around me since I was 4. I have been able to warn family and friends of upcoming events since around 20. These things have become second nature to me, and members of my family. No one looks at me sideways when I tell them they are going to get a flat, or a ticket.

I have had reservations about telling my story, I have had many experiences. My mother has told me dozens of stories of her, my grandmothers, and her friends' encounters. My children tell me things that happen to them. We seem to have a family trait. My ex husband calls me a witch, and tells my children they get their ability to see and know things from my side of the family.

The most unusual, scary, and life altering events that I have ever experienced was when I was yanked out of my body, thrown into someone else, and watched as family members died. This was not something I intended to do, never thought I could do, and never wanted to do. When I say yanked out of my body, which is exactly what happened to me twice. I have not told people about the things that have happen to me. It may be from fear of what would others think of me if they knew. I have no proof other than the family members who were there, and had to listen to me be hysterical.

August of 1987, I was 27 years old. I was a cashier at a grocery store. I drove a Chrysler Cordoba, a big yellow tank of a thing. I was scheduled to work from 4 pm until 10:30 pm the day my first jump happen. I got up around 9:30 am. Or so, I showered, after smoking a cigarette. I came back into the bedroom about 10:15am. I sat down of the side of the bed to put on my socks and shoes. As soon as my but landed, I was in my car driving home from work. I had no idea how I had gotten there on the road. I had no memory of any event in the day at all. I looked at the digital clock in the dashboard, and it read 10:32. I was defiantly on my way home. I just let it register in my mind, and continued to drive. I would figure out what happen when I was safely at home. As I was driving along, I spotted a man walking on the shoulder of the road. He was about 20 or 30 feet ahead of me. He had on a white t-shirt and jeans. He continued to walk toward me, I thought nothing of it. I would just pass him, and we both would continue on our way. As I got near I noticed he was not completely on the shoulder. Just when I discovered this I hit him. He came up the front of my car, smashed into the passenger side of the windshield, smashing it, went over the top of the car and landed behind me. I got the car to stop, I was shaking. I looked backwards through the back window; the man was just laying there, no movement no sound of groans or moans. I grabbed the door handle, shoved the door open, and stepped on the road. When I stood up I was back in my bedroom, it was still morning, I was shuck up, scared, and about to call off work. I spent the entire day telling my husband that he had to drive me to work and pick me up. There was no way I was going to drive, and if I did I was going to kill someone on the way home. He moaned and groaned, I was ruining his plans for that night. His brother in law was coming over to drink with him; they had planned it a week before. I let him know he would not miss a thing. Dean would probably just wait in the drive way for us to return home.

My then husband drove me to work. I got off work on time. He picked me up and drove home. I was so relieved. Then about an hour later Dean was late, his wife called telling my husband the state police had called her. Dean had been in an accident, and she needed to come to the hospital as soon as she could. My husband told her he would meet her there and hung up the phone. He told me the conversation and left. She called back to see if my husband was picking her up. I told her no he said he would meet her there and left.

I sat in my front room waiting for a call, to tell me how badly he was injured. While waiting I heard Deans car pull into the driveway. The blue bomb needed exhaust work. You could not mistake it for any other car. The light from his car blared through the window of the kitchen. I jumped up and ran to the front door. Pulled it open thinking someone had picked pocketed him at a bar, and they had the wrong guy in the hospital. As I opened the door, there was silence, and darkness. There was nothing in the driveway. Everything instantly disappeared. Right then I knew Dean was dead. When my husband returned home, he told me Dean had run out of gas, walked up the side of the road and had been hit by a motorist. What I had seen from inside the car was exactly what had happen. The 18 year old driving the car only had one working headlight, on the driver's side of the car. Dean had mistaken it for a motorcycle and had not moved over far enough to accommodate a car on the road. The driver was sober, while Dean was 3 times the legal limit for drunk. No charges were filed. If only I had figured out who he was, I could have stopped it all from happening. I had 12 hours to do something about it; Dean was only 31 at the time of his death. I was given a time limit to change, or stop what was about to happen. This was the first time I had experienced anything like that. I had no clue what to do. I think about that day a lot. I struggle between what the outcome could have been, if I could have warned him, or if I had drive to work, would I really have hit someone else and Dean would still be with us.

The second time I jumped was in July 2005. I can't remember what I was doing. I was so traumatized by the event; my only thought afterward was to get a warning out. I know it was mid day or later, but not dark out. I jumped into a woman, walking in the pouring rain, headed toward an intersection. It was late at night, the street lights were on, I had no clue where I was, or where I was headed. The rain, even though a down pour, was not freezing, and I was soaked to the bone. My hair was wet; the dampness had worked its way down my neck, and into my cloths. I was wearing a rain coat, with no umbrella. I was in no hurry, to get out of the rain; evidently I had been walking for some time. At an even pace I was headed toward the intersection. I was about 10 or so sidewalk squares from the end. I saw a silver car pass me going about 35 miles an hour or so. It turned right, going around the corner into the far lane. Just as it was fully perpendicular to me a large black SUV passed me, there could have not have been more than a 5 second laps since the car turned. It also attempted to turn right. What happen is it caught the car at the rear corner panel and ripped up the side of the car. Scrapping and crushing forward as it plowed the car toward the median. The crash was a loud mixture of metal ripping and grinding. No brakes were hit; with full on force it mangled the little silver car. I ran up to the car, making my way between the car and the truck to the passenger window of the car. What I saw will haunt me for the rest of my life. In the pouring rain, already disheartened by the fact that I knew I would find someone dead, I looked into the window. My heart stopped, I could not breath, and my world was instantly destroyed. My oldest son was dead; he was crushed between the door, and the center column of the car. His head was lying against the driver, his eyes were closed, with blood on his forehead, and coming out his nose, his mouth was agape. I could tell there was no life there. I backed away from the car, by that time a man from another car had showed up. He ran to the driver's side of the car, and began pulling the driver out of the car through the window. He pulled the man out, and laid him on the ground beside the car. Then the police showed up. I remember looking up at the officer as he walked up, and boom I was back to me again. I began calling my children looking for my oldest. My children lived with their father in another state. I had no phone number for my oldest, he had just moved back to Ohio, and was living with a friend. I called the other two children and told them to get a hold of him and have him call me as soon as possible. I called every day for a week, two and three times a day. Finally he came by one day, he happened to be in Michigan to see his girl friend, and stopped by to see me. I told him that he could not be a passenger in a car for the next month. I had not seen a clock in this jump. I knew with it being July that the warmth of the rain gave him a month. The rain would be colder after August. I told him if he got into the passenger side of a car he would die. I did not tell him silver car, night time, or rain. I was just so happy to see him alive I gave him the only warning I could. Do not let anyone drive you anywhere for a month. That night or the following night, he and his friend were coming home from being out selling what was left of his products. He would sell things at flea markets or gas stations, the things that would attract you like single roses, trinkets, lighters, cheep jewelry. The junk you see sitting on the counter when you go to buy gas. It was dark out and raining. He was driving; he turned wide at a corner to avoid a dip in the road. A large black SUV hit his car, smashing his friend between the door and the middle column. Everything happen exactly as I had seen it. There were no changes except for who was sitting on the passenger side of the car. The young man's hips were crushed; his head hit the window then smashed back into my sons face. When his head snapped into my son it broke his neck and my sons jaw. The warning I gave him was enough to save his life. The warning I gave him was not enough, his friend lost his. They had haggled over who was driving that night; my son had remembered my warning and refused to let his friend drive. When my son looks back on that night he wonders if he made a mistake in having his friend get in the passenger side. Others in my family have died, some in car crashes. I have not seen all these happen, I feel I was only shown certain ones for a reason. I believe the reason was to change the outcome of the accidents. At the time of the accident, I lived 70 miles away.

I do not understand what happen to me, or how it happen. There was no pain, only complete awareness of the fact that I was some where I could not be, and I was in someone else's body. Other than gaining information visually I was not a participant in these events. I have jumped a third time. Just a few months ago, I ended up in the passenger side of my step daughter's car. It had stalled on the rail road tracks. I looked at her, and then to the back seat her daughter was there. I begged her to either start the car or jump out. A train was approaching, and I begged her to jump out, to grab her daughter and move. She was frantically turning the key, but nothing would happen, just the motor trying to catch. I sat there waiting for her to move, we ended up being hit. I was stuck waiting for her to jump out before I did. I got in touch with her threw her facebook page. I told her about what I had seen with the other two. The first she was too young to remember, the second I had lost touch with her since the divorce and over twelve years had passed. I told her to get rid of the car, or she would die in it. She replied oh well whatever happens is meant to happen. She seemed unconcerned; I felt awful and told my oldest about it. My son called her and told her I was not crazy, to heed the warning and get rid of the car. I cannot confirm the outcome, but my son told me she sold the car, and it had stalled on the new owner, it has not been fixed.