Living in two worlds has always been a part of my life, even when I wasn’t a psychic.
In another life, when I was a police officer, I signed on one morning and was ordered to immediately assist in a missing person scene that was already active. I asked the dispatcher to give me details about the person so I could keep a look out for the missing person as I drove to the scene. I was told to go to the scene and report to the supervisor for the details. “Okay?”, I thought. “Why can’t I just be told directly? What is happening?”
When I turned onto the street where the search was taking place, I saw at least ten police vehicles lining the street. There were bloodhounds and German Shepherds, all looking for this person! I remember thinking, “Who are we looking for, the President?”
I walked into the house and reported to the officer in charge. He told me that they had been searching all night, that they had a room covered in blood and a missing man, and that they weren’t if this was a crime scene or not. (It seemed odd to me how much effort was being put into what may not even be a crime scene, but it was clear that at the least there was a very serious accident!)
I told him I was there to assist in any way I could and to let me know if they needed help. With that, he walked off to join his men.
The house was pumped with energy from these cops and the frantic family members, but it just didn’t match up with the underlying calm that I was feeling. Their nervousness was at odds with what I was actually feeling. I placed my hands in my pockets (it’s a cop thing) and decided to look around the scene.
First, I went into the room covered in blood, expecting to learn something from the blood. I was hoping to see splatter patterns, or pooling behaviors that were indicative, or something that might shed some light. As I entered the room, it occurred to me that, yes, there was blood there, but it didn’t have the feeling of a struggle. I didn’t feel like a crime had taken place. I was actually feeling weak, as if I was dizzy from the loss of blood.
I was then drawn to the bathroom. Again, I saw more blood, and again I felt weak. I stepped in to the living room and everything I was feeling stopped. The sense of panic and weakness dissipated. I decided to go to the kitchen to see what I would find there. The kitchen felt the same as the living room: Nothing urgent. But, as I I walked away from the kitchen, I heard a voice say, “DOCTOR”.
When I heard that I was guided to the phone on the wall in the hallway. As I looked at this old green phone I noticed a phone number written on a piece of paper right next to the phone on the wall. It had a phone number written in big numbers! I picked up the phone and dialed the number. After a few rings a woman answered the phone saying, “St. Mary’s Hospital”. I introduced myself and asked if she had any information on our missing guy? I was transferred to admitting. The admissions person told me they had our guy and he was brought in earlier the evening before.
I thanked them for their help and hung up.
I then calmly worked my way over to the supervisor and told him I located our missing person. He turned and looked at me as if to say, “Who are you again?” So I relayed the information that I had obtained from the hospital. I told him that the missing person was not missing and was fact in the hospital, and had been for the past twelve plus hours.
After a grunt or two the supervisor called off his men. While they spent hours searching, I was able to feel and listen to the information around me. I was only at the scene for about fifteen minutes. It is nice to have help!