In 2010 the tragic and sickening murder of ten-year-old Zahra Baker made international headlines. The poor girl was apparently murdered and dismembered by her stepmother, who admitted guilt in court in 2011. This woman also scattered Zahra's remains in different spots throughout the county they resided in.
We all know people can do evil things with no help from anybody, or anything's, help. But some crimes are so wicked and horrific it can make one wonder if outside forces can become involved, or even just attracted to murder or crime sites as may have happened in Sahra's case. It can be a challenge to imagine such a thing, but becomes a matter for speculation when several stories are related to a paranormal subject writer like this one from people he knows to be credible.
Ruth is a lady known for over ten years by two owners of this website. She is a brave, caring, intelligent, sober, and honest person. She also has a strong Christian faith but is thankfully refreshingly open-minded when it comes to the paranormal and unexplained. Indeed, she is quite aware this can be a mysterious world at times and that we don't have all the answers yet.
In 2012 a young teenage girl who lived in the mobile home right next to the Zahra Baker trailer, visited Ruth's house with some other young folk. After a while all the children went into the garage area to play, which was adjacent to the kitchen. Ruth was in that kitchen when she suddenly saw a small mist swirling on top of the china cabinet that she'd picked up at an antique store some time before; the mist quickly began to form into what can be only called a demonic-looking creature; with a tail, legs, and even, a face. Ruth, in a loud, commanding voice - before it could fully take shape - demanded the thing depart her house immediately in the name of Jesus Christ! She said it then dropped off the end of the cabinet and whooshed out the door, past the kids playing, with the remaining mist leaving a departing trail as a kind- of- calling-card, - that was to never be used, of course.
On reflection, Ruth was later to surmise the entity may have followed the child from the murder area, perhaps done with its business there, and was seeking a new home; but if so, it certainly picked the wrong one to try and set-up shop in.
The rest of Guardian Angel and Little Devil stories come from people this author has known and respected for many years. They are truthful and well-grounded individuals who related their incredible encounters to me personally: in two cases face-to-face, and one by an e-mail correspondence which will be explained more fully later on in the article.
This person will have their first and surnames substituted as there was a request for anonymity in the private communication. Their reason for wishing to remain anon comes from a medical condition they feel might make folks think this is where the incidents originated from; but in my own and others' research and investigations, their condition is indeed conducive to such mystical occurrences actually happening. This person also happens to be a best-selling author by the way.
"...Who knows, but that the universe is not one vast sea of compassion actually, the veritable holy honey, beneath all this show of personality and cruelty." ~ Jack Kerouac
Bonnie is a friend I've come to know well going on over four years now. She is intelligent, erudite, and down to earth. Although she graciously agreed to let me tell her amazing childhood tale, she also requested anonymity which will be respected. However, if her true identity were known by many who know her, and if she was gotten to know well by others who don't, they would have no doubts as to her mental stability and honest intentions. Bonnie did not ask that her story be published, but as one of the most intriguing this writer has ever heard, the decision was made to reveal what you are about to read.
When a young girl Bonnie lived with her parents in the base housing of a branch of the military forces located in the Deep South. Their house was near a golf course and in-between the two laid a swampy area. All the local kids were warned not to go near the marsh, as alligators were known to inhabit it. But, being a spirited young lass, and desiring the delicious raspberries about the vines one day, she disobeyed her parents and went there with a pail. While picking away, she suddenly heard a woman's voice say, "What are you doing, Brie Collins?"
Bonnie turned to the woman and she was like no person she'd ever seen. The woman was wearing gypsy-like clothing, mainly of red, with a veil about her head. She was holding roses, too, while beside her was a huge bush full of pink roses. Bonnie hadn't seen the bush on arriving so was staring at it, hard. She also asked why the lady had called her Brie Collins. The woman ignored the question and speaking in a firm but kind voice, told her to return home at once or she would never eat raspberries again. Bonnie, a bit frightened, dropped the pail and hurriedly did just that.
Later that evening, it was found one of the base's teenagers had lost a foot to an alligator in the swamp and was lying in a culvert. The most unusual thing about this encounter was what the woman had said to Bonnie. It was only years later, after being told she was adopted by her mama and shown the original birth certificate - presumably her mother knowing one or both parents -- that she found out her birth name had indeed been, Brie Collins.
While living on the base the TV programs would often be interrupted by what her daddy called snow. As Bonnie was to later realize, the snow images had nothing to do with the programming. The freaky part was that often, when the TV was turned off, images would just linger on the screen and move. Sometimes they would suddenly appear on a screen that had been turned off for some time. Once when alone with her dad listening to records, the turned off set abruptly lit up with images of faces. She asked her daddy who those people were. He made a joke about them before getting up and pulling the plug, but even then the images lingered on for quite a while.
Another time she was in her parents' room when the screen of the little TV there suddenly turned itself on and brightened up. Bonnie saw on the screen what she took for strange-looking men. There was audio, too, like they were talking, but not in English. Her mama came in, snapped off the set, and took her out of the room. Her mother never said a word about the incident but she could tell it upset her mom. The TV gremlins, which is what her father called them, spooked Bonnie, badly.
To this day she cannot sleep with an uncovered television set in the room.
All the kids at the base community knew of them. Little men of two different types; taller silver ones, and large-headed red ones. The children usually referred to them as devils although the red ones were more mischievous than bad. They walked through walls and doors and had a habit of carrying things off; things like car parts, vacuum cleaners, knives, and toilet dispenser bars etc. The kids saw them do these things and could never understand why their parents were at a loss at what happened to our car? Or who dissembled the lawn mower?
Apparently, only the youngsters could see and interact with these entities.
Sometimes the devils would bring things to the children. A hodge-podge of items, really, like cookies or nuts or slips of paper with weird impressions on them.. Bonnie usually saw two of them; one was nice and would play games with her brother, and another was mean who would pinch and try to get the siblings to do dangerous things. Her brother was enticed to hurl a jack-in-the-box at their mother one time and later on led into the middle of the street. If the nice devil hadn't told one of the neighborhood boys, who ran out and retrieved the lad, no telling what might have happened. Another time the mean devil talked Bonnie into licking the coating off some lawn fertilizer by telling her it tasted like candy. She got pretty sick from doing it.
The silver men didn't show up too often. None of the kids regretted this as they were very strange. When they did come around, it was at night, and the children believed they spied on their dreams. The friendly devil taught Bonnie how to get them out of her own dreams by going to sleep thinking about what she wanted to be when she grew up, or by dwelling on some imaginary life. She was supposed to concentrate hard on these thoughts till she fell asleep. The trick seemed to work. But many of the other kids weren't so lucky, and continued to complain how the silver men gave them headaches by coming into their sleep.
There was one night in particular Bonnie remembers. The friendly devil was sitting between her and her brother's bed, quietly playing with her siblings blocks, building what looked like a very nice castle. Later she was awakened by the sound of high-speed chatter. When she opened her eyes, the little devil was still hard at work and she began drifting back asleep, only to be startled awake by seven woman who had seemingly floated into the room. They were all very pretty just hovering there, speaking among themselves, when one suddenly came very close to her. The entity spoke without moving her mouth and told Bonnie she would be leaving soon and wanted the child to see something.
Several of the women took hold of her, barely touching the girl, really, as they then flew through an open window. Bonnie doesn't recall too much about what happened next, except for one thing, and that was a great body of water. The waters were flooded over everything - land, buildings and cities. And then they took her under the water to an airplane that had just landed and was sinking. It seemed like she was suddenly inside the plane feeling cold and terrified.
Bonnie was then back in her bed without recalling any more about being inside the sinking plane or how she had returned to bed. Later she told the friendly devil what had happened. He said the women were enemies of the silver men because the women's people lived forever and the silver people didn't believe in forever. And he also said the silver ones had a king who did believe in forever but, he told the people he was God in order to control them.
She saw the women one more time before her family moved away. They came, they said, to show her wonderful things in a dream. It was a nice dream Bonnie wrote, in which she saw people she had never met before, but people who were dear to her nonetheless. In the years since, she has met many of the people in the dream, most importantly her beloved husband.
Bonnie shared one more childhood occurrence with me. The base community was having a Thanksgiving dinner at a large church when Bonnie got lost in the crowd going to get some oyster casserole. She found herself inadvertently shuffled by the bigger folk into the basement corridor. She wasn't scared at first, for there were people there, too, laughing and talking. But having lost her sense of direction, she became uneasy before bumping into a man carrying a newspaper. He asked why she was crying and on being told why, turned her around and pointed the way back into the banquet hall.
While thanking the gentleman she noticed how very vivid his clothing was and how his skin seemed extremely bright. He then smiled and walked off with the paper tucked under an arm. Later on in the sanctuary, Bonnie saw a photo on the wall and asked her mother who the man was. She said it was one of the pastors (Reverend Andrews) who had been at the church when she was just a baby. He was with God now, having passed away some years before. The man in the picture was the same person who had just helped Bonnie find her way back.
It is not rare for people to have for what is them a reality-based encounter with seeming angels or demons. And, of course, there is more than one possibility with these entity's origins and purpose. Perhaps, at times, the wicked ones are allowed to happen, to show a soul that although great evil or negativity exist and can manifest, so must a greater love that can do the same.
This angel and devil section begins with someone who's been there forever it seems like. Sitting on the same table, in the same corner of the same room, at the Methodist Church where I went to kindergarten as a child. Her face is one that exudes kindness, but her lips never speak, they only smile. Whether this is a true Guardian Angel experience or something from the very deep subconscious, I don't know, but way down, in the gut, it feels like the former.
No wings unfold from behind her arms, for she only wears a medallion on her bodice and a simple but majestic looking white dress that comes down to her shoes. A small, but beautiful crown sits atop her short blond hair. She's also petite and appears to be middle-aged, but then again, there is a timeliness about her, too. In some ways she seems to embrace the past, present and future all rolled into one.
Whenever I was down, or doubting a nice future, this golden lady vision, thought of as The Queen, would appear in my mind's eye and smile, and then I would know everything was going to be alright, or at least feel that it would be.. There was never any hello, how are you - nothing, no words bespoke her at all. She could impart an energy of love simply by looking up and smiling. Then the scene would fade away until the next visitation. This vision of the lady has never been like the classic muse artistic inspiring- kind, but more like a sparkling life vest gifted in a restless sea one finds themselves in at times.
I won't be self-indulgent with the reader by listing all the many times I've walked away from situations that I certainly shouldn't have, near escapes from a deadly fate you might say. But without fail, deep down inside, there was always a feeling of someone or something's protection. Most of us have probably had these intuitions after such times, close calls - a feeling of being watched over that is.
The one personal event I'll use as an example occurred during the rashness of an unbridled adolescence. To keep the story short, suffice to say, after a sideswipe on a twisty, sandy road, a long, thick metal pole entered the Chevy's left front and punched a hole in below the dash, then tore through the base of the driver's seat and exited out the left rear of the vehicle.
An inch in any other way but vertically straight down would have meant a horrible death as the place was quite rural, it was late at night, and I was some distance away from any occupied dwelling. I was literally sitting on the metal pole with shredded pants but no physical injuries other than a few scratches.
After the police arrived at the scene - I had to walk nearly five miles in a semi-shocked state to find a house which somewhat amazingly turned out to be a Highway Patrolman's - they said it was a miracle I'd walked out of the car alive and let me leave, uncharged, with my employer,- who told me, "Someone was looking out for you, son." And this from a man not given to saying such things at all.
Johnnie was an 85-year-old African American gentleman full of the joy of life and a pleasure to be around. He was also a very talented individual creatively, which comes as no surprise considering Academy-Award winner Denzel Washington was a relative, for one thing. The man had been a firm believer in God and the Christian bible since a small lad and the following are the occurrences, or more descriptive yet, manifestations, that happened to him that set Johnnie on that course of devotion and belief. Hypo-Christian is not a term that applied to this fine man.
As an eight-year-old resting in his bed one Saturday morning, Johnnie and his brother suddenly saw, vividly and clearly, three beautiful angelic appearing entities, that slowly glided from one side of their room to the other, only to disappear through a bedroom wall. Anyone who knew Johnnie well can only assume these spirits or angels have been there with him all his life, in one fashion or another; he truly believed that they had.
Also, it wasn't long after his angelic encounters that Johnnie spotted a little devilish-looking entity staring at him from a tree limb near a pond; his pal saw it as well when Johnnie pointed it out to him. Perhaps there was some kind of spiritual battle going on over him at that time in his young life. If this is true, then which side won is obvious.
In Oct. of 2015 Johnnie passed away after a long and uncomplaining battle with bone cancer. I had no machismo problems bending down and kissing his beloved remains good-bye, being one of two whites at his African American Baptist church service. However, the man had many friends, black and white, but some of the white friends were in a position that precluded them from attending and they regretted not being able to be at his funeral. Where ever this man's spirit is now, I have no doubt it's in a beautiful and healing place. Fare thee well my friend.