When people leave messages on our answering machine, we often don’t notice the blinking light right away. Sometimes, days pass. This happened a couple of weeks ago and I was shocked to hear a message from a friend I hadn’t heard from in nearly 40 years. Bob Preston.
Preston and I hung around with the same group during college in the 60s in Utica, New York. We went to anti-war protests, concerts, and explored the kinds of phenomena that we talk about on this blog. He was as interested in the I Ching as I was (a rare breed in those days), and I remember we used to sit around tossing the coins on all sort of questions. Our biggest question, though, usually seemed to come back to: What is the nature of reality?
“Hi, Trish, this Bob Preston. Would love to reconnect. I was reading this book called Kill Time and got to the part about Utica, New York, and suddenly realized T.J. MacGregor was you. Call if you’re so inclined.” That was his message.
I poured myself some coffee, called him, and we spent nearly two hours on the phone, pretty much picking up our conversation where we’d left it somewhere back in the 70s. It turns out that Bob now lives in Wisconsin and quit teaching some years ago to do what he loves most – play music, sculpture, and write. That’s a photo of one of his wood sculptures at the top of the post.
Preston, as I have always called him, is no stranger to synchronicity. Here’s a layered one that he sent us.
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In the fall of 1978 I was living in an old house across from an equally old cemetery in the city of Whitewater, Wisconsin. On Halloween night of that year I decided to walk across the street and play banjo to the unasembled masses. The thought had come to me that music was something that happened rarely in such a setting , that the deceased were lonely, that it would be time well spent. With this in mind I walked to the cemetery, and began the impromptu concert.
My banjo style is somewhat old-timey, often in mountain minor keys, with an emphasis on multi-step strum styles. It seemed the perfect evening, light winds, a plethora of autumn smells, sounds and aura.
As I walked and played, I attempted to become one with the instant, in essence, strumming in time to the moment. I continued this way for twenty minutes or so, walking in a haphazard pattern between plots and rows. At one point, I stumbled into what felt like a partially sunken grave site. There was enough of a jolt to my senses that it felt like missing the last step on a stairway. It caused my head to jerk upward, and focus on the constellation Orion.
At exactly the same instant, I felt a weight, not unlike a hand, on my left shoulder. This caused me to feel a little disoriented, a bit confused with a tinge of eerie unease. I stepped out of the depression and immediately walked back to the house across the street. I entered the house through the back door, stepped into the kitchen, closed the door and stood there with my heart pounding and my breathing shallow.
Then the back door knob began to slowly turn. My dog, Sociology, began barking and the cats scurried in every direction. The door opened a bit, then closed gently. My dog started whimpering, cats were frozen in place, and I felt that weight again on my shoulder. Immediately, the phone rang, in essence breaking the silence. At this instant, the door once again opened, then slammed shut with a resounding echo. All animals became calm.
I answered the phone, still feeling somewhat confused. It was my girlfriend, just checking in. I muttered something along the line of…’you’ve just saved me’.
The following morning I walked across the street to examine the area of the cemetery where I had been the night before. I couldn’t locate the grave that I had ‘stepped into’. After a while I returned to the house, filing the whole episode under the general category of ‘interesting’.
Within a month or so, I decided to move to Colorado, simply because the opportunity arose. I was gone for nearly a year. In this time the cemetery incident had evaporated into the past. I had never shared the story with anyone.
I returned to Wisconsin in May of 1979, got a job teaching, and happily went about the business of living. At some point, within a few weeks, I traveled to Madison. While picking up some things at a mall, I decided to stop and see a friend that I had not had any contact with in a long time. As I drove past her house, I noticed that she was outside, raking her front yard. I pulled into her front yard, got out of my car to give a hug and exchange pleasantries. After a few minutes she indicated that she had an appointment and asked if I would like to go along. We left right away, from the yard to my car and on to the appointment.
We arrived at my friend’s destination and as she was getting out, she asked if I wanted to come along to her meeting with a tea-leaf reader. Having always been interested in such things, I gratefully accepted the invite and followed her to the front door of the reader’s home. As soon as we entered the home, the reader stared at me and asked my friend if it would be possible for her to have a few minutes with me before starting the appointed meeting.
I followed her into the ‘reading’ area, where she asked me to sit. She picked up my left hand, all the while looking deeply into my eyes. She indicated that there was an existing issue that she needed to discuss with me. At this time she prepared a cup of tea for reading and after a few moments said, “Do you recall the evening in the cemetery?”
Believe me, that got my attention. There was absolutely no way she could have been aware of the incident, now over a year in the past. I had not discussed this with anyone, I had never met this person, no contact could have been made before we met and my friend was totally unaware of my story. She then began to relate the entire event to me and started by calling me Robert – even though we hadn’t been introduced.
She related the entire cemetery incident, down to detail, adding at the end that the reason I had not found the grave the following day was because it had not been a depression in the ground but, rather, a raised mound on an unmarked grave. I was told that a young girl was buried at that spot, that she had been the daughter of a founding father of Whitewater and had died in the 1850’s, the victim of a train accident.
The tea-leaf reader went on to relate that I had drawn this young girl to me with music and happenstance. Evidently, she had lived in the same house that I had been staying in, so I had provided the opportunity for her to gain entry into the dwelling. She said the girl had been frightened by the noise, level of reaction and the phone call.
At this point the tea leaf reader indicated that the cemetery story wasn’t the message she had for me. She got very serious and talked about all of the incidents relating to the supernatural that I had been involved in over the years. She brought up Utica, by name. She talked about the I Ching and my fascination with witchcraft. She went on to caution me about the effects of the unknown with people who don’t possess the necessary skills to successfully delve into the subject.
Her advice was simple: gather the appropriate knowledge or steer clear of the subject. There comes a time in the study of the occult that preparation cannot be over-emphasized. With that, our meeting was over. My friend met with her and later, I took her back home. I did not discuss this with her.
The following day I visited the local historical society. Everything the reader had told me about the house and the young girl was confirmed by the records! From that day until now I have kept my own council.
What a beauty!!
That tea leaf reader was surely very tuned in and very wise.
Enjoyed reading this post, wonderful story! And sound advice, thank you for sharing.
Just a few syncs here grabbed me,because I had just written a post on my own blog about “The Church”‘s song “Ripple” and a movie called
“Connected:An Autoblogography about love,death and technology”
https://brizdazz.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/ripple-of-connection.html
To me a ripple has always represented connections,and music to me is sound ripples,or sound connections sent through the air to connect to like minds and ripple on throughout the world.So the above story struck me more along the lines of our ability to connect on lines that seem to be unconnectible to our rational minds,but connectible somehow to our subconscious minds.
Here’s the syncs that I found interesting between my post and your post –
* “It seemed the perfect evening, light winds, a plethora of autumn smells, sounds and aura.”
They were my thoughts on the night “The Church” played the ‘Powerhouse’ in Brisbane on Christmas eve,except it was summer,not autumn that night.The ‘Powerhouse’ is right on the banks of the Brisbane River which has lovely light winds at night plus the sounds and smell of a restaurant just outside.
But I thought the word “aura” was quite interesting as the song “Ripple” is off the album “Priest = Aura”;
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priest%3DAura
There are also a songs called “Witch hunt”,”Film”,”Feel”,”Old Flame”,”Paradox” and “Aura”.
They played the entire album on the night,plus two others.
* “There was enough of a jolt to my senses that it felt like missing the last step on a stairway. It caused my head to jerk upward, and focus on the constellation Orion”.
“The Church” also sing “Under the Milky Way Tonight”,which was the main song I wanted to hear on the night and probably my main reason for going.A You Tube is included on my post of this song (acoustic version).
* “My dog, Sociology, began barking…”
The cover of “Priest = Aura” has a photo of a dog looking into the distance like it senses something.
* “The tea-leaf reader went on to relate that I had drawn this young girl to me with music and happenstance.”
Another album they played in full on the night was “Untitled #23” which has the song “Happenstance” on it,as well as a song called “”Deadman’s Hand” ;
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Untitled_23
There is a clip of “Happenstance” here;
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYy5ohu4k6o
I was quite surprised when I read your post and saw the syncs…or should I say connections between them.
Great story,and I have to say that the wood carving featured above reminds me of the dream symbol in this post of yours from a few weeks ago;
https://www.synchrosecrets.com/synchrosecrets/?p=7582
That’s the face I was thinking of when looking at “the face” in the dream symbol.
And it’s the right time of year for the Green Man to make an appearance,since he is often linked to St.Patrick’s Day.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_Man
” Found in many cultures around the world, the Green Man is often related to natural vegetative deities springing up in different cultures throughout the ages. Primarily it is interpreted as a symbol of rebirth, or “renaissance,” representing the cycle of growth each spring. Some speculate that the mythology of the Green Man developed independently in the traditions of separate ancient cultures and evolved into the wide variety of examples found throughout history”.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJ8EsNe-qOo&feature=related
Off to check out your links in this comment and the above. You’re a synchro connector, Daz!
Great story and even better advice. There have been times when I have closed books because I knew I really was not ready to learn. There is a phrase from my childhood that is in my head right now: do not go where angels fear to tread.
Also good advice, Terri!
Excellent post and the best advice ever. I have always believed that you should not go where you are not prepared ahead of time to go. Which probably accounts for the last several years of study that I feel absolutely obsessive about. As a synchronicty – it all started this time, (I have had other times in my life where I’ve been obsessive about learning), with my connection with one Trish MacGregor and her recommendation that I read Whitely Streiber’s Communion regarding an issue I was trying to figure out.
(By the way – loved your interview on Whitley’s Dreamland!)
Thanks, Nancy!
A mind blowing post and a great comment too from Math. And how great to make contact with someone from such a long time ago.
It IS great to make contact with him again,
well, like adele, i’ve been sitting here for a while trying to figure out what to say – such an incredible incredible story leaves little room for anything else – love love love this story!
i think we each can relate to her admonition about “effects of the unknown with people who don’t possess the necessary skills to successfully delve into the subject” which reminds me of my own experience with a friend and a ouija board and the candles – the large red pillar candles that all exploded when i was asking about the circumstances of my brother’s death –
again, fantastic multi-layered story – great post – oh, and love the wood sculpture!
That story with the ouija and red candles was scary!
What a marvelous, multi-layered, insightful story! And the absolute best advice always: “GATHER THE APPROPRIATE KNOWLEDGE OR STEER CLEAR OF THE SUBJECT”. It never ceases to amaze me that there are so many folks, especially college young people, and these days even young kids, who decide to delve into the occult head-first and find themselves chin-deep in terrifying situations out of their control. That tea-leaf reader was maginificent in her talents, wasn’t she? They are few and far between, but she certainly had a straight line to the Other Side, no doubt about that. As a young woman moving through the degrees at a true, traditional Church of Wicca in Atlanta, (which takes several years to complete and can’t be learned or achieved through reading books), one of the most essential lessons taught was to never, ever get oneself into any occult or non-physical circumstance without testing the waters and having full knowledge of its depth and nature. I’ve never forgotten that; have had a few pretty significant experiences myself with the darker Invisibles; and I pass the essential message along to others: KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING INASMUCH AS IS POSSIBLE.
My own mother-in-law was apparently angry about something after she passed; she continues to haunt the old homestead on the side of the mountain in GA; and during a visit there not too long ago I was attempting to take a photo of the rest of the family in the front yard, and for no reason I’ve been able to discern, Mrs. C pushed me, hard, backwards and down over a terraced rock garden. She definitely did it. (The camera snapped of its own accord as I fell and she appeared in the pic.) I was among the walking wounded for a few weeks. Evidently she didn’t want the photograph to be taken, for reasons of her own. I steer clear of the house and property as much as I can since then, but occasionally must go there. I generally choose to sit in our vehicle as opposed to going inside, because she’s there. HER mother, btw, was full-blooded Cherokee, born on the reservation, so Mrs. C in life was tall and strong and silent and still carries that powerful Native American energy even as a Spirit. Your friend’s experience was fascinating. Can’t help but wonder, though, about the Spirit Girl’s contact; it seems she perhaps wasn’t dangerous, just lost. But of course those lost souls can be really scary to people who are unaware of their state of being. Be that as it may, how cool, that you and Preston hooked up again after so many years! Great story, guys! With several rich crooks and turns. Love it!
I agree, the advice is perfect.
What a totally awesome story. I’ve been sitting here for a while after reading this post, trying to think of what to say. I guess it leaves me speechless. So just to thank you and Robert for posting this. Oh yes, great to have another I Ching geek around.
He’s good at the ching, too, from what I recall!