2022-09-25, 10:57 AM
This is one of the most intriguing personal paranormal experiences I have ever come across… every so often I go back and reread it just to reassure myself that I’m not miss remembering it…
“About twelve years ago my marriage was in serious trouble. My wife and I had tried everything to make it work and in desperation, as a couple, we even went for a Tarot reading. My reading gave a bright outlook but my wife had one which the reader said was not so positive and she didn't want to know the outcome.
At this time I was working at Erdington police station just outside Birmingham. I had joined the police from the army and I consider myself to be well grounded and pragmatic. The Tarot reading was not my idea and not the sort of thing I had any interest in, but I was prepared to try anything that my wife suggested in order to save the relationship.
I often patrolled the Lyndhurst estate, which is a council owned housing estate on the border between Erdington and Sutton Coldfield. It consists of numerous low rise maisonettes, seven tower blocks, community facilities and a recreation ground.
A few weeks later after the Tarot reading I was on my own, patrolling the estate. It was late in the afternoon when I saw a man walking towards me on the opposite side of the road. The man had shoulder length, dark hair and was wearing a leather jacket. I would guess his age at anywhere between 50-60 years old and his skin tone and dark hair gave him an appearance similar to a native American.
I crossed over the road and we acknowledged each other. It was certainly not a case of wanting to carry out a stop check or anything like that. If anything he had more the look of a potential victim than an offender.
The man told me that he had a message for me and he had information that I was looking for. He made a reference to the Tarot reading, which I thought was incredible because I had never met this man before in my life. At no point did he give me his name but he invited me to come and speak with him at his home and gave me his address. We made arrangements for me to go visit when I was on an afternoon shift.
A week or so later I went to the address he gave me, it was a large house on the Chester Road near to the railway station, which was sub divided into bedsits.
The guy had a room in the attic and I went inside sat in an armchair while he made me a cup of tea. He spoke to me about opening a door, which would give me information and if I chose to do that then there would be no going back. The man was a warm and sensitive person and although it seems strange to anyone hearing this story, at no point did I feel any alarm although I did notice there was a pentagram drawn on the floor which was partly concealed by a rug. I decided that I didn't want to take things regarding the information further. We shook hands and I left.
Several months later, I was by now in a new relationship. I had split up from my wife, but with the divorce proceedings in the background, it could have an impact on my mood. I was sitting in a hotel bar in Stratford-upon-Avon with my new partner, who I loved dearly, and I eventually married. We were having a stupid argument, a really pointless fall out about something trivial, when the double fire doors burst open with a mighty bang. There was no reason for this in terms of the wind or anyone messing about and it certainly shook me up. It immediately stopped the stupid argument but it also started to play on my mind.
Maybe I was putting two and two together and making five but I decided to go back and speak with the guy who lived on the Chester Road when I was next back on duty. I walked up to the house and stepped into the foyer but when I was inside I was stunned to find that the layout was different and door to the room in the attic didn't exist. I was in the exact same house and it had not been renovated but the door was not there.
I have spoken about these events to very few people because it raises so many questions, questions I have asked myself many times but to which I can still find no answer.”
“About twelve years ago my marriage was in serious trouble. My wife and I had tried everything to make it work and in desperation, as a couple, we even went for a Tarot reading. My reading gave a bright outlook but my wife had one which the reader said was not so positive and she didn't want to know the outcome.
At this time I was working at Erdington police station just outside Birmingham. I had joined the police from the army and I consider myself to be well grounded and pragmatic. The Tarot reading was not my idea and not the sort of thing I had any interest in, but I was prepared to try anything that my wife suggested in order to save the relationship.
I often patrolled the Lyndhurst estate, which is a council owned housing estate on the border between Erdington and Sutton Coldfield. It consists of numerous low rise maisonettes, seven tower blocks, community facilities and a recreation ground.
A few weeks later after the Tarot reading I was on my own, patrolling the estate. It was late in the afternoon when I saw a man walking towards me on the opposite side of the road. The man had shoulder length, dark hair and was wearing a leather jacket. I would guess his age at anywhere between 50-60 years old and his skin tone and dark hair gave him an appearance similar to a native American.
I crossed over the road and we acknowledged each other. It was certainly not a case of wanting to carry out a stop check or anything like that. If anything he had more the look of a potential victim than an offender.
The man told me that he had a message for me and he had information that I was looking for. He made a reference to the Tarot reading, which I thought was incredible because I had never met this man before in my life. At no point did he give me his name but he invited me to come and speak with him at his home and gave me his address. We made arrangements for me to go visit when I was on an afternoon shift.
A week or so later I went to the address he gave me, it was a large house on the Chester Road near to the railway station, which was sub divided into bedsits.
The guy had a room in the attic and I went inside sat in an armchair while he made me a cup of tea. He spoke to me about opening a door, which would give me information and if I chose to do that then there would be no going back. The man was a warm and sensitive person and although it seems strange to anyone hearing this story, at no point did I feel any alarm although I did notice there was a pentagram drawn on the floor which was partly concealed by a rug. I decided that I didn't want to take things regarding the information further. We shook hands and I left.
Several months later, I was by now in a new relationship. I had split up from my wife, but with the divorce proceedings in the background, it could have an impact on my mood. I was sitting in a hotel bar in Stratford-upon-Avon with my new partner, who I loved dearly, and I eventually married. We were having a stupid argument, a really pointless fall out about something trivial, when the double fire doors burst open with a mighty bang. There was no reason for this in terms of the wind or anyone messing about and it certainly shook me up. It immediately stopped the stupid argument but it also started to play on my mind.
Maybe I was putting two and two together and making five but I decided to go back and speak with the guy who lived on the Chester Road when I was next back on duty. I walked up to the house and stepped into the foyer but when I was inside I was stunned to find that the layout was different and door to the room in the attic didn't exist. I was in the exact same house and it had not been renovated but the door was not there.
I have spoken about these events to very few people because it raises so many questions, questions I have asked myself many times but to which I can still find no answer.”