I have so much personal evidence of survival of death, plus my many years of research into the evidence of survival.
Here is just some of the most convincing evidence. Any single one taken in isolation can possibly be dismissed as coincidence, however unlikely the odds. But taken together it is blindly obvious that there is some other explanation.
I started writing posthumous letters to my partner, George, after he died. I then received a letter from Lenny, a friend of ours, who said his partner Frank, an amateur photographer who had taken pictures of George and myself sitting in a rocking chair, wanted to get copies of the photos made. Lenny said that Frank, unknown to me, had given the negatives of these two photos to George, and could he have them back to make copies. We had a cardboard box full of old negatives, so I searched methodically thru them, but could not find the two negatives in question.
In my next posthumous letter to my deceased partner, I told him about this request from our friends, and said if indeed he had been given the negatives, could he somehow let me know where they were as I had searched the box with old negatives and could not find them. The very next day while in my kitchen the phrase came clearly into my head: ‘The negatives are on the top shelf of the larder’. This seemed utterly ridiculous to me, but nevertheless I climbed on a chair and lo and behold there were the two negatives in an envelope.
In another posthumous letter some weeks after George died, I suggested perhaps I should stop writing these letters and allow us both to move on. Again the very next morning, while shaving, I got the urge to play some of his records. Now our musical tastes were totally different. While I only collected 1950s style rock’n’roll/rockabilly and traditional Country Music recordings, my partner had a large LP selection of all popular music from the early 20th Century or even earlier right up to his death in the 1990s, plus a large classical collection. I was not at all familiar with his record collection as I never played any of them.
I pulled out one of his albums completely at random, not having any idea what record it was or who was the artist. All I knew was it was the large pop section of his collection, not the classical stuff which was right the other end of the shelf, virtually the width of the large room. I did not look at the LP sleeve, just took the record out and placed it on the turntable, not looking at the label. I stuck the stylus down randomly on a track somewhere in the middle. Immediately my question of the nite before was answered: ‘Should I stop writing the posthumous letters to my partner?’ Dorothy Squires voice sung: ‘Love letters straight from your heart keep us so near while apart’. I still write the posthumous letters to George, but now only on anniversaries, about three times a year – his birthday, our anniversary of first meeting, and the anniversary of his death.
On a holiday in Jersey just over a week before he died, we were on a sandy beach and I was listening to music on my Walkman-type audio cassette player. George was next to me and told me before I came back to Jersey the next year with my mother to get a cover for my cassette player to stop the sand getting in it. After he died I looked in various shops, but could not find a cassette player cover. Then in the kitchen one day not long before I was due to go back to Jersey with my mother, the phrase came into my head: ‘You will find what you are looking for in there’. I was standing in front of a cupboard where George put unwanted Christmas/birthday presents we had been given, or things he had bought in a cheap shop which he thought might be useful as presents for other people. I had little knowledge of what was in that cupboard. I certainly did not remember a cassette player cover. Indeed when I looked there was not one in there, but what I did find was a little wallet-type thing to hang around your neck under your clothes to keep money in, useful for when on holiday. My cassette player just fitted into the wallet, and there was even a zip-up pouch for the batteries. It was very significant that the telepathic message had not referred to a ‘cassette player cover’ but rather to ‘you will find what you are looking for’, i.e. something which served the purpose.
Years earlier I had been a member of the Young Communist League and then the Communist Party itself. I was a fanatical hard-liner, and my bedroom at the time was decorated with Soviet posters, and there was also an altar to Communism draped with the Soviet hammer and sickle flag on which I placed a statuette of Lenin and a volume of his written works. On the bedroom door were tapestries of Lenin and Stalin. My mother was very worried about me at this time, and while I was out one day my estranged father called. My mother asked him to come and take a look at my bedroom, and he was horrified at what he saw. On my return after my father had left my mother said he had started shouting: ‘I am taken to my son’s bedroom, and what do I see? MURDERERS!’ I replied calmly that it was a bit rich coming from him. He was Greek-Cypriot and had a picture of EOKA-B terrorist, responsible for many British soldiers’ deaths, George Grivas on his mantelpiece in Hampstead.
Years later my father returned to his native Cyprus and the wretched picture of Grivas went with him and hung in a frame on the wall of his living-room in Paphos. I had left the Communist Party by this time, and my posters of Lenin and Stalin and all the other Communist paraphernalia had been taken down and discarded. When my father died my brother and I went over for his funeral in Cyprus. We were sitting in his living-room in Paphos after the funeral and the picture of Grivas, which had been in the frame on the wall for years, suddenly fell out of the frame! We were only in that room for an hour or so, yet it seemed my father had chosen that time to take down his picture of a murderer just as I had taken down mine years earlier.
I went to see exceptional medium Colin Fry at Fairfield Halls, Croydon who was very specific with his messages. I was sitting up in the balcony. The very first message Colin gave was about an elderly lady called Edith who lived to a good old age, then had an accident and deteriorated rapidly then died. By this time a woman in the stalls had put her hand up to claim the message. I did not put my hand up at that time, even though it described my grandmother’s demise exactly. I thought in those thousands of people several could have a relative or friend called Edith who passed after an accident.
Then Colin went on to describe a kitchen which had been badly refurbished, and said that someone had stood a hot pan on the cheap working surface and damaged it. The damaged bit, Colin said, was on the left as you entered the kitchen.
By this time I had my hand up, as I knew this message was so specific and unusual it could not possibly apply to anyone else there but me. However Colin did not see me up in the balcony as he had already had the message accepted by this woman far too early. Although nowhere had I written down any of the details about my mother’s kitchen at that time, the fact Colin gave this message to the woman who claimed it dispels any suggestion he somehow knew about me, my maternal grandmother and my mother’s kitchen refurbishment or he would have said it did not feel right, the message was for a man not a woman in the audience. It just made it all the more convincing for me.
My grandmother was named Edith, and on Boxing Day 1970 was reaching for a saucepan on a shelf, slipped and fell breaking her hip. She was 83. She ended up in hospital and deteriorated slowly over the next few months, even though the hip was repaired. She died on my birthday March 20th, 1971. Not long before attending Colin Fry’s demonstration of clairvoyance at Fairfield Halls, my mother’s kitchen along with others in her sheltered accommodation had been refurbished with cheap material. I had stood a hot pan on the cheap working surface and damaged it, and this damaged bit was indeed on the left as you entered the kitchen! My grandmother was very fond of her eldest daughter, my mother. The last thing my grandmother said to me was to look after my mother. It was entirely natural she would take a keen interest in what happened around my mother and in her home.
When my own mother finally died at the age of 101 she had spent the last few months in a Nursing Home not far from where I lived. She had come out with me on the Thursday before she died, on the Friday she had difficulty holding a cup without her hands shaking violently. She had not eaten any solid food for about three weeks. By the Sunday she was bedridden. I visited every day, and on the Tuesday visited her in her room twice. I knew she didn’t have long to live, but had no idea when exactly the end would come.
Early Wednesday morning I awoke from sleep and very briefly saw a bright white orb up by the ceiling of my room next to a bookcase. I then knew my mother had died. Hours later I got the call from the Nursing Home saying she had passed away around 0200 in the morning, just before I saw the orb.
Two cats also visited after they passed away. One, Dixie, was a heavy Tom cat who used to sit on top of the wardrobe in our bedroom to look out of the window. His favorite trick was to leap down from the wardrobe on to our double bed. This was no joke, to have a heavy cat land on top of you. After Dixie died George, next to me in the bed, said several times he had felt Dixie land on top of him from the wardrobe. I dismissed this and said he must have been dreaming, even though he was fully awake sometimes when this happened. Then one night I felt a heavy thud on my leg while wide awake, and there could be no mistake – Dixie had jumped down from the wardrobe and landed on my leg just as he did in life.
Another cat, Tibby, had a habit of opening a cupboard where my tee-shirts were kept. I put a coffee table against the cupboard door to stop her doing this, as when I wanted to wear the shirts some were covered in cat’s hair. After Tibby passed away I moved the coffee table back into the center of the room. By this time my partner had also died, so I was living in the flat alone, and had not been near the cupboard. The cupboard door could not open of its own accord. Yet on two occasions I found it open. Tibby, like Dixie, had made her presence known.
There has been on-going communication between my partner, my mother and other deceased friends and relatives with me right up to the present. I ‘tune-in’ and type some out, but others come via signs and via my partner’s old dictionary. On one occasion I had just finished a bottle of bitter lemon drink, opened the dictionary at random, pointed blindly to a definition without looking, and it said ‘quinine’, an ingredient of the drink which gives it its bitter taste. On another occasion I asked George’s spirit how he was, and on opening the dictionary anywhere and pointing blindly I got his typical witty reply ‘immortal’.
Both my partner George and my mother, when I tuned in, gave detailed descriptions of what happened to them immediately after they died. Had I imagined these scenarios, having read about Near Death Experiences, I would have mentioned floating above their bodies, entering a tunnel, emerging into the Light and having a Life Review.
My partner talked of entering a reddish smoke or mist and then hearing wonderful music, I had not at the time read of any such description of what happens after death. Neither my partner nor my mother mentioned a tunnel, emerging into the Light nor a Life Review, though when I asked him about this George said it happened later.
One day I just got the impression my mother and father had been reunited on the Other Side, which was very unexpected as they had been apart since their separation 64 years before my mother died, and earlier the marriage was an unhappy one as he was violent towards her on several occasions. Apparently in Spirit he had apologized to her. This was confirmed when I visited a Spiritualist center some time later and the medium said both my father and mother were present. Then came the clincher, he said my mother’s name was Dorothy – indeed it was. Neither the medium nor anyone in that place knew my mother. She had never visited that place.
Even more amazing, but not a personal experience, my partner contacted friends after he died or made his presence known to Tom, Brian, Ernie and possibly others. Brian, when visiting my flat after George died, decided while I was out to wash up. This was unknown for Brian, who never washed up or did any housework. He heard my partner in a surprised voice asking what he was doing. Without thinking Brian replied ‘washing-up’, then realized the voice he heard was George’s who had died some time before. I believe he also felt someone grab his arm and he turned around to see a fleeting shadow. Tom while in the middle of the living-room with nobody else near felt a tug on his jacket. Ernie, while meditating, met my partner in a garden who told him he had to get away from the Earth plane. Another friend, Lenny and his partner Frank, were supposed to come to witness the planting of a memorial tree for George. They failed to turn up, but at the precise moment they should have been at my flat to leave for the planting, George showed his displeasure by causing their bathroom curtain around the bath to fall down for no apparent reason. He typically showed his annoyance when on another occasion Lenny complained a photograph of my partner in a frame was reflecting in the TV screen, and immediately the photo fell down for no apparent reason.
The memorial tree in some lovely gardens in Islington which my partner had introduced me to years before was planted on the same day I was exactly the same age as my partner was when he passed away, to the very day. This was not planned by me but by Islington Council. They also chose the exact spot where it was planted, opposite Jersey Road and Jersey House – George first got very ill on our last holiday in Jersey and died a week later at home.
My mother when she moved into sheltered housing near me, kept seeing a woman who she assumed was the previous tenant. One day the taps in the kitchen were turned on, the sink overflowed and damaged the flat below. My mother insisted she had not left the taps on. One day my mother calmly sat down and told the ghost woman this was now her flat, the woman was dead and should move towards the Light. My mother was never bothered by the apparition again. Years later a carer came to my mother’s flat who had not visited her before. She said she used to visit the previous tenant. My mother described the apparition, and the carer confirmed it sounded just like the previous tenant and how she dressed. Then without any prompting the carer said that the woman was always leaving taps running.
Ernie was told by a medium that he would see my deceased partner one day. He was on holiday with this medium friend in Hawaii, a place my partner and I had visited years before, when he saw a reflection in the TV screen. He turned around and momentarily saw my partner standing there. He frantically rushed out of the room to his friend who calmed him down.
My partner after we first met tried to introduce me to opera, both classical and Gilbert and Sullivan. I could not get appreciative of either, so he gave up in the end. After he died two friends, keen opera lovers, asked me to get tickets for an English National Opera production of ‘La Boheme’ at the Coliseum in London. I bought tickets for them and myself. I was so moved by the opera in English and the comparisons I saw with Mimi’s death scene and that of my partner in our bedroom, that I was crying. As we left the theater the telepathic phrase, so typical of George, came into my head: ‘I had to fucking die to get you to appreciate opera!’ My tears turned to laughter immediately.
Tom cared for an old man named Reg. One day they were talking about life after death and Tom said ‘Well nobody’s ever phoned me from the Other Side to say they’ve arrived safely.’ Reg got ill and died in hospital and moments later Tom received three missed call messages on his mobile phone reading: ‘Reg calling, Reg calling, Reg calling’ from the cut off landline in the old man’s empty flat! Tom freaked out in view of their earlier conversation about not getting phone messages from the dead!
On two occasions a video I filmed of my mother singing a song about asking her mother to come and take her home from an institution appeared spontaneously on my computer. It is impossible to access this video clip without going into an old camera application and clicking on a file and then on the video clip itself. The song is significant, my mother died in a Nursing Home and would have loved her mother to come and collect her to take her home to the Other Side, which may well have happened.
There are many more instances, and communications continue. Some, when I ‘tune-in’, could be my imagination, others received independently from mediums, thru George’s records, his dictionary and spontaneous telepathic messages telling me where things were which I did not even know were in the flat (and the video clip of my mother singing appearing spontaneously twice on my computer) are much harder to dismiss. As for the apparitions my mother and my friends saw, well make up your own minds. The only one I had was the bright orb which was, I know, my mother’s spirit immediately after she passed on.