2 parts youth, six parts stupidity, and one part ouija board

Discussion in 'Your Paranormal Experiences' started by Ronin, Oct 17, 2018.

  1. Ronin

    Ronin
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    Recall my name, on your journey to hell.

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    [in 2 parts, because I overran the site word filter]

    Let’s set the wayback to 1988. I was 17, thin, good-looking, and driving a 1984 Pontiac Sunbird – 4 door, so of course it was a chick magnet. I lived out in the country on a small farm, about a 30 minute drive from school and even more to my nearest friends. So when there was a gathering, party, or outing, it was a long way to go to get there.

    On this fine September day, just before the start of my senior year, I had been invited to a birthday party on the far side of town in what passed for an upscale neighborhood in a small community. It’s important to note that I was invited not because I was friends with the birthday girl, but because I was part of a larger circle of people she wanted invited and I just came with the package. As I worked Saturdays, I’d be joining things late in the day, but it was planned to go until midnight, mainly because the girl’s parents were out of town for the weekend.

    Now, anyone with sense knows that last bit of information is just trouble waiting to happen, and even at 17, so did I. However, most of the main group that would be there were serious Baptists. As in, serious enough that their Baptist church held book burnings to get rid of the “Devil’s work”, so I knew there wasn’t going to be drinking, drugs, or any of that dirty rock and roll everyone is going on about. In any event, I was mainly going to meet up with my best friend [we shall call him ‘Dag’], so I was going to drop in, say hi, deliver a thoughtful present (so thoughtful that I can’t even remember what it was), and then head back out to Dag’s place for a few hours and do something entertaining. So I get home from work, shower off the ink (I worked the press lines at a newspaper), and head that way.

    As the framing suggests, I got there with events in progress. I navigated to the house, parked, and went in. I saw some people, said hi, and asked where I could find the birthday girl. I was directed into a large den, where all the furniture had been moved to the walls. Balloons and streamers were all over, and it certainly looked festive enough. But it didn’t sound festive. In fact, it didn’t sound at all. When I walked in, the heads of about half a dozen teenagers turned toward me, all of them sitting on the floor, 4 of them with their hands on the planchette of a Ouija board.

    At the time, I was used to not being the most popular guy in the room, but I was still pretty surprised when one of the guys told me to get out. Now, this was still a couple of years before I started training in martial arts, but I was a pretty big farm boy, and I’d already taught a couple of bullies a lesson in picking their targets. So, politely (yes, politely, thank you), I responded that Gale (the birthday girl) had invited me, and he’d be better off deferring such statements to her (it’s possible that last part was said a hair less than politely).

    This was quickly followed by one of the girls stating that “He said he wouldn’t talk to us if you were here.” So I looked at Mr. Get Out and said some variant of “good, he’s best seen, not heard,” to which she responded “no, not him, the ghost.” Here she pointed to the board. This pretty well stopped me in my tracks. At this point Gale gave an actual explanation, which was to the effect of that they had contacted this ghost, who was being really talkative, but before I showed up he’d said something to the effect of not wanting me around.

    Now at this point the more astute of you should have some alarm bells going off. Please keep in mind that I was 17, and I’m not empathic nor did I have any special sensitivity (again, training for that kind of thing was still in the future). So since I really wasn’t there for those people, I didn’t give it much of a thought and left the room. Dag still hadn’t arrived, so I just hung out with people who didn’t want anything to do with the Ouija and waited for him to show up.

    About 30 minutes later, Dag did indeed show up, and I caught him before he went into the house. One of the first things he said was “something’s off here.” I gave him a quick summary of the events in the den and he – being a more in the game than I – went straight into the room.

    As an aside, I don’t recall that he brought a present. Cheap bastard.

    Regardless, he came out of the room less than a minute later with some papers in his hand and began putting them in my face. I don’t know which had been written on when (before or after my arrival), but now MY alarm bells were going off. These papers had diagrams and descriptions of a ritual where the kids present would draw a circle, place Gale in the center, and sit around her chanting something a in a language I didn’t recognize. Dag would later tell me it was Latin, but languages are not my strong suit. He could have told me it was Sandskrit and I would have no way of knowing better.

    Let me be clear. These were a collection of 16 to 18 year old southern Baptists kids. They knew as much about ritual magic as the Kardashian clan knows about subtlety. They were so green they needed mowing. Part of the reason I was greeted with less than enthusiasm was because I was a D&D playing agnostic heathen. The odds of ANY of these people knowing what a summoning circle was, much less coming up with a ritual for the same, are less than the odds of me passing up biscuits.

    As I mentioned before, I don’t have any particular spiritual gifts. But I did have the great gift bequeathed to all teenagers: stupid. In fact, I daresay I had enough for any three teenagers. Added to that, I also had no sense of mortality – I had tried suicide twice before, once by drinking enough arsenic to put down a stable. So I did what anyone in my position would do: I went right back in and announced that it was time for Mr. Ghost to say goodbye.
     
  2. Ronin

    Ronin
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    Hoo boy.

    Have you ever been outside when the air charges before a storm? It gets dark by virtue of the sky’s refraction sliding further down the blue scale toward violet, so while there’s nothing obstructing the sun, the whole area just seems to dim. Well, the room did that. The planchette was spelling ‘go’ as fast as their little hands could hang on. The air was so heavy and thick even I could feel it.

    And here is where we get to the unbelievable part. Gale started talking. She had a completely vacant expression, and she talked in a dull, monotone, but LOUD voice. I do not recall the exact wording, but the gist of it was that she was his, and I was going to leave or I’d be sorry.

    This struck me as absurd. Going back to the alarm bells I mentioned feeling when Dag showed me the papers – I didn’t feel them because of fear, I felt them because I knew a bunch of kids were about to get hurt because they were playing with fire and didn’t know it. If that seems odd to you, then join the club. I’ll have more on that later, because to me it’s one of the more notable features of the event.

    I let her/it go on for a few seconds, and then loudly interrupted with a variation on ‘put up or shut up.’ I was saying I didn’t believe for a second it could do squat, and it was going to go one way or the other. I then did and said something completely out of character for me: I looked Gale right in the eye and said “These aren’t yours.” This is *is* something I would say years later, and I’m pretty sure I’ve said that exact phrase several times in the defense of others. But then? Not so much.

    There was a pregnant pause, then several things happened at once. There was kind of a ‘pop’, everything brightened up, and the air thinned right out. Everyone around the board looked up kind of dazed, and Gale blinked and looked around. I was nonplussed, but a moment later Dag came in saying “What the hell was that?” I don’t recall what he meant by “that,” but all the tension was gone. Dag got them to say goodbye, and I took the board and planchette from them. We burned them in the back yard, and when we went in to check on people, everyone was up, talking, snacking, etc – all normal teenager stuff. Nobody even mentioned the board or events.

    In fact, nobody mentioned them ever. Dag and I said goodbye and left, but we were both tired and just went our separate ways home. I didn’t talk to him again until school started after Labor Day. He said he’d tried translating the Latin, but in 1988 we didn’t have the internet, and the local library wasn’t exactly a hot spot for classical languages. He said he destroyed the papers. After that, I don’t recall us discussing it again until just before we graduated. We didn’t have anything new to say, just wondering and speculation.

    I personally have several takeaways on this. First, I wonder what the hell made half a dozen Baptist kids even obtain a Ouija board, much less use it. I never even thought to ask where they got it. In fact, until Dag and I talked about it months later, it never occurred to me to even talk to anyone who was there about it. I’ll tell the reader right now, I was as verbose then as I am now, so why wouldn’t I talk over one of the more singular events of my life with other participants? Second, at no time did I ever feel personal fear. At the time, I wasn’t a fighter. I didn’t know anything about the paranormal. I didn’t even watch horror movies; I was the IRL equivalent of the guy going into the dark basement with a baseball bat to investigate the strange noises. From all appearances, though, I walked right in and put whatever it was out of business. Third, why the hell would anything be worried about me showing up? If it was actually strong, what was I going to do about it?

    I don’t draw any conclusions here. I really don’t speculate too much. The only thing I can say is that I’m lucky. I don’t mean that in the transient sense, I mean that’s a signature characteristic of my life. Fortune favors me. Whatever happened that day, it had no lasting impact on me except as a remarkably clinical memory. After high school, I don’t know that I ever spoke about it with Dag again, and very rarely with others, even in the paranormal community. To me, it just sounds too far-fetched to be readily believed.

    Ok, I lied, I do draw some conclusions. It’s obvious to me that whatever the ritual was for, nothing spectacular was going to happen, even *if* it worked. It’s more likely that the consequences would be subtle, far-reaching effects, but even then that would be in a limited scope on a personal level for those involved. I would also conclude that it wasn’t my person that upset Mr. Ghost, but rather whatever force causes me to have that aforementioned good fortune, whether you term it as a guardian angel or just a part of my being I’m not in tune with.

    It’s most remarkable to me for just how incidental it was. There are absolutely no prior or subsequent events in my life you can tie back to this. In fact, I can’t say it had any effect on me whatsoever; I would still subsequently play along on two occasions where people wanted to use a Ouija board. I didn’t go out and try to learn more about it. I never even used it as a cautionary tale for people wanting to delve into that kind of thing. I mean, who is going to want to believe it?

    So there it is, my one real Ouija story. It’s certainly not overtly frightening. But it has a special kind of fear, in my mind, because I don’t know how it might have played out differently for the 6 people involved. I certainly found their church’s habit of burning books to be abhorrent, but even so the overall message of Christianity was present: be good, avoid evil, walk upright in the ways of the Lord. But there it is. As I mentioned elsewhere, if you read it and want to yell “pants on fire,” I certainly won’t hold it against you. Just think of it as an entertaining anecdote with the moral to avoid summoning spirits.
     
  3. Paulm

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    and to always bring a gift to the party ......love that part....lol.... great writing and good story.
     
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  4. Debi

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    Ronin shared this with me last night, and I was impressed with the writing and clarity of the story. And I agree...bring a gift! lol
     
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  5. Lynne

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    This event makes total sense to me. This is my take away from your account. Of course it’s just a possibility but I do have a Christian view on this.

    First off this group of souls would have been a real coup for the dark side. Somehow one or more of these teens opened the door and evil was waiting for the opportunity. The demon or entity knew you would be coming but since we have free will the outcome was in your hands. Because you didn’t have knowledge of the paranormal you didn’t have fear. I think because the negative entity had no authority to go against you (the others gave over when they participated ), it had to leave when you resisted it. Thank god you stood up, those teens souls, at least the girls may have hung in the balance.

    Why you ? Why anyone. I think God works all things together for good.
     
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  6. Ronin

    Ronin
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    A Christian view is a pretty good one to have when dealing with a room full of Baptists. :)

    I think your last paragraph has volumes of truth. Who knows how many incidents never happen because the right people are in the right place at the right time - but never even know it?
     
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  7. Charleh

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    But then again baptists have their own way of understanding things. I don’t know why it is but it’s always Baptist kids dabbling in this stuff.
     
  8. Ronin

    Ronin
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    I'd argue the point, except I'm running through my protestant denominations and coming up nothing. Baptist and agnostic so far. To be fair I don't know many Catholics.

    Methodists? More likely to toke up and then pray for forgiveness afterwards
    Church of Christ? too busy trying to keep their kids from dancing
    Presbyterian? Still recovering from the potluck last Sunday
    Pentecosts? Too busy trying to distance themselves from the snake handlers

    You may be on to something there.
     
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  9. Mrs Cooper

    Mrs Cooper
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    Some shaman say we all have two selves. One is the day to day personality. The other is the soul which interacts with the world usually through the personality. To varying degrees the personality acts like a squelch function on a CB radio to the soul.

    But sometimes when the soul senses directly something as dangerously profound as what you walked in on, it can override conscious choice & just act directly without the intercession of thought.

    When you said “these aren’t yours”, your soul had instantly recognized the gravity of the situation & who/what was behind it. So without thinking of your safety or social restrictions, or fear, you directly confronted the jerk and said the exact thing called for. You boldly asserted your dominant intent and simply reclaimed those kids.

    And yes, it likely knew you had the power to do that. Hence why it didn’t want you there.
     
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  10. Lynne

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    Ok I’m assuming this is tongue in cheek and just joking ? We don’t want to offend people’s religions
     
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