I welcome accounts from other people — from people I know, from people I used to know, and from complete strangers — but in the case of complete strangers, we have to meet in person. Send me the Contact form, and we can arrange it.
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1st account — My mother could see “fairy lights” as a child
You remember what we call those colourful lights that we string up at outdoor parties? We call them fairy lights.
When my mother was a child, she could see small colourful lights up at the ceiling inside their home. She saw them again and again, always in the same spot. One day she mentioned them to her mother. Her mum said, “Oh don’t be silly. There are no lights up there.” My mother never saw the lights again.
2nd account — My mother met my father three months after he died
Three months after he had died, my father visited my mother. It was daytime in Port Moresby when Mum’s subconscious mind suddenly said to her, “I’m going to meet Alex tonight.” That night, she fell asleep. She came to consciousness in mind, although not in body. She saw the arrival of some kind of mass, which had light and was vibrating very fast. The vibrations slowed down, and Mum recognized my father’s form, just his head and chest. He was very young; he was the age he had been when they first met. My mum said, “Oh Alex, I knew I would meet you!” My young father spoke these words to her, “You were right. There is life after death.” With that, the event was over. My mother woke up in the morning.
3rd account — My mother met Alex Stewart after he died
A similar event.
Mum had an old friend whom she had known in her younger day in Sydney, Alex Stewart. (He was also called Alex, like my father).
One morning in Port Moresby, Mum woke up and could remember that Alex Stewart had visited her during the night. He told her that he had been killed by a car. On waking in the morning, Mum told us about it, me and my sister. She couldn’t figure out if she had been dreaming, or if it was a real meeting. My sister and I assured her it had been a real meeting, and that this visit showed that he still loved her very much.
Two or three years later when visiting Sydney, Mum was talking to another old friend. The old friend said to her, “Did you hear about Alex Stewart? He was walking home one night and got hit by a car and killed.”
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When my Mum was a young woman in Sydney, she had to choose between two men who wanted to marry her — Alex Stewart and Alex Flory. Mum chose Alex Flory.
4th account — I met my mother three months after she died
I’ve never forgotten that Mum met Dad three months after he died.
After my mother died, I hoped I could have the same experience. I prepared myself for it. I spoke to Mum in a normal fashion, telling her that I wanted her to visit me exactly three months later, just as Dad had visited her.
Looking ahead to the exact day, three months later, at the exact time on the clock, I knew where I would be. I would be driving home from our Seibersdorf lab. I identified, in advance, where I could pull over and park. I timed exactly when I should leave the lab, to reach that spot no later than that exact time. The spot was in Eggendorf.
So on the day, I was approaching Eggendorf. Just moments before I reached the spot, I smelled a very familiar fragrance inside the car — it was Mum’s fragrance, the same fragrance we could smell on her pea-green cardigan when we were children. We loved that cardigan because it had Mum’s fragrance on it. I turned to the passenger seat and smiled. I spoke, although I could see nothing there, “Oh Mum, you’re here! Thank you for visiting me.” Moments later I reached the spot and parked the car. I sat there for a little while.
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Actually, I should include this event under Part 1 — Momentary experiences, but for some reason, I would rather put it here.
Here’s one account that no-one told me, but rather, I read it in a book, so it has no place on my website at all, but I can’t resist sharing it with you. I can no longer identify the book. It was a collection of supposedly true stories. I got it from Pickwicks in Vienna and took it back there, not thinking that I would need it again today.
5th account — The fairies at Hills Hotel
A guest was staying at the Hills Hotel on the hill above Largs in Scotland. In the morning he took a walk outside, passing the well-tended flower beds. He saw, to his astonishment, fairies dancing in the flower beds. He went inside and told the people at the Reception. Another couple said, yes, they had also seen the fairies but hadn’t mentioned it because they thought no-one would believe them.
It wasn’t clear if the fairies could see the people.
Many years later, in 2014, I visited the former Hills Hotel. By then it had been turned into a sports hotel, open only to athletes, but you could still drive up the hill, up the long driveway, park and walk into the hotel. I did that. I visited the flower beds. They were two long narrow beds. They weren’t well tended and had become more like weed beds than anything else. If I had hoped to see fairies, I was disappointed.
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These are freak events, but they do happen. As people say, “The veil must have been thin on that day.”
I have read (and again I can no longer remember in which book) that fairy-tale creatures do exist in spirit. So fairies, elves, gnomes etc. exist in the spirit world. Over the centuries a great many people must have seen them. Those people have shared their knowledge by writing fairy-tale stories for children. Think of the English expression, “There are fairies at the bottom of my garden.” You bet there are.
We had an elderly Austrian medium (who died in 2023), who said that when she was a child, she could see fairies (or elves or something) when walking in the woods. She didn’t say if they could see her.
And of course I’ve met those imps, the scumbags, which I describe in Part 1.
6th account — The psychic nomadic tribe in Egypt
In Moresby Mum met an Englishman called Peter, and a years-long friendship developed.
Peter told Mum about an experience he’d had as a young man hiking in Egypt with a couple of friends. Here’s his account.
The three Englishmen arrived at the dwelling place of a nomadic tribe. They were welcomed as guests. At some moment a man in the tribe, or perhaps several men, drew Peter and one of his companions aside and told them something in private. They said that their third young companion was going to die in three days’ time. They said it would happen within sight of the sea.
Peter and his friend told the third young man about it, and they all had a good laugh.
On the third day, the three young men were hiking along a dirt road, in single file. A truck drove past them. The first two young men, Peter and the other, turned and looked back at the third man. He was lying at the side of the road. They ran back to him. He had been hit in the head by a stone that had been thrown up by the truck’s wheel. He was dead. The road they were walking on had a slight rise. On the other side of the slight rise was the Mediterranean Sea.
The men in the nomadic tribe, very psychic people, also told Peter that he would marry, but they couldn’t “see” his wife anymore. Peter asked if his wife would die, and they said no, she doesn’t die, we just can’t “see” her anymore. Peter did get married but later got divorced.
The tribe members also told Peter and his companions that their fellow countrymen were frightened of them. See, the nomadic tribe were very psychic people. Their fellow countrymen probably thought that not only can they foresee things, but they can make things happen. That would frighten people.
I doubt that the psychic nomadic tribe could make things happen. They could only foresee them, so my theory. And as I say elsewhere, people who are on the move become very psychic.
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Peter’s account gives me goose bumps every time I think of it. I posted this account yesterday and have just realised today, 6 August, that this was not a spiritual experience. It was a psychic matter and the tragic death of a young man. It doesn’t belong on my website, but I’m going to leave it here.
7th account — The leprechaun
Richard, a friend of my sister and her husband since their 20s, told my sister this thing:
Richard met a man in Australia who had lived in eastern Europe as a small boy. His parents chose one day every year to bring every single thing out of the house. They cleaned the house from top to bottom and put everything back in again.
On one such day, the small boy was standing alone in one of the rooms, now temporarily empty, the room with the fireplace. He looked over to the fireplace and saw a little man standing there. The little man saw him. They looked at one another. The little man was dressed in proper clothes, colourfully, like a gnome.
The boy heard the adults walking along the corridor toward the room. He knew they would enter the room in the next moment. He turned and looked at the door. Then he turned and looked back at the little man, but the little man was no longer there.
The boy never saw him again.
I call the little man a leprechaun. You could also call him a gnome. They can only be male, it seems. This brings me to a new thought: Can fairies only be female?
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You remember the Irish poem — “Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen, we daren’t go a-hunting for fear of little men …”
