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Brisbane Ghosties
MR BOJANGLES
A year on after an uplifting trip to magical India I’m back here in Australia. One day a beautiful aboriginal ghost appeared to R and I in West End Brisbane, appears to be a controversial ghost at that. A death in custody victim. Later on I knew all the facts. At the first contact time though, the one and only clue he communicated to me as he passed over was a nickname, Mr. Bojangles.
Yes I believe I communicate with spirits caught here waiting to pass over. The only downside is as time goes on, all I want and can do is this profession and it will never make me money rich. I hope I can follow my goal of free readings or even barter.
I’m not one of those people you meet who are continually searching and reading every new alternative book on the market. I actually like to read about the subject matter after the experience, to compare others.
Paradise Street, West End I lived at this time.
Before my West End shop even started I did the Brunswick St Markets and had the Reiki experience I needed to become a convert to the getting and giving Of Reiki, all I had to do was offer swaps and I was high as I wanted. It’s the best natural drug and healer ever invented !
Reiki is basically a form of healing where the healer passes their calming energy to another.
I call it a quick lesson on meditation.
Back to the story I had my shop, retro clothing, as cover for my passion of palm reading and Reiki, months before R came on the scene. Regularly R would do the rounds of the second hand shops and mine happen to be near the essential grocery outlet. I would go home and fantasize about this young man who liked to arrive at ‘Tomorrows Parties’ topless. He loved my
clothes even though he wore more traditional ones. I was happily going through a phase of wearing fifties style elegant gear.
I loved my job which was my social life due to the hours spent. It seemed to coincide that the shopping complex’s demise and the getting together with R happened. Basically R visited me one day and I invited him to go shopping for stock with me, he was interested.
We came back to unload and I offered to read his palm, I noticed his palms sweating.
Not sure what to make of that.
Still early, I invited him to my house where he might feel a bit more comfortable. I never
thought we would actually get together. I told my friends, they, like me thought that R would soon be gone, gone, and gone.
They made that funny look people do when older women and younger men get together. R was a good looking young man tallish nice skin, blue eyes. Those eyes, when it looks like they are eye lined, his short hair highlighted his eyes . After our first meeting when I saw his outstanding eyes there was the muscular body, which is not the main attraction for me.
He hung around till he moved in months later. I never wanted or expected anyone to move in. I even spoke to, believe it or not, a floating pale colored light (Orb) passing through my room one night. The light was about five feet up from the carpeted floor and as soon as my full focus was taken off my TV onto it, the Orb disappeared.
Luckily one of my cats was there and she closely watched it continue to the door. I said to this fog like light ‘please do not show yourself to me while I live alone. ‘I dreaded waking up in the middle of the night to it at my bedside as I would be paralyzed in fright , maybe if someone is living with me but that would be never, I thought
So forgetting this strange conversation, months later R moved in. Almost immediately he saw his first ghost and started dreaming frequently. He said he hadn’t managed to dream for ages and was in awe after seeing his first ghostie, because one afternoon he saw a light go the opposite direction that I was walking.
After this sighting, I had a dream of a well-groomed aboriginal man wearing a neat white short sleeved shirt, he sat so I could see his profile on my bench seat outside. After this I dreamt about a little aboriginal boy walking a Labrador and telling me how he had to leave his kitty behind and was sorry about my missing kitty.
I was still recovering from the loss of my two cats one-month apart. A few months after that time, R moved in. My sensitivity must have been heightened due to this and then that memorable night came round!
R and I were talking in his room about my books on Astral traveling by Lobsang Rampa, near my door, which joined his room. It was late and I had been having a funny sense of eeriness that I eventually vocalised about. I said I was feeling there was someone standing in the low lit doorway. R said he felt something too and minutes later I spotted the image of a man’s full flesh arm, wearing that same shirt as in my dream. He was just sixty centimeters or 24 inches away, near the door….
Well I had no intention of waking up in the night to very realistic body parts in my face so I remembered advice from a physic and I started to pray for this poor spirit. I was actually speaking to what seemed the obis saying that he must go to the light. Just then I saw the bright vision of his aboriginal ochre painted face up close to mine. It happened so fast that I just had time to realize there were others in the room too and I asked him his name.
All I heard before he transformed was the name Mr. Bojangles. When I say
transformed I mean he became three layers of light in different colors. I saw him or his blacker than black shadow being dragged into my room and then he returned transformed. It wasn’t only the visual of the experience that R and I both shared but the emotion of joy and sorrow combined, he left this wonderful gift inside both of us.
Our faces were covered in tears of his joy. I thought he didn’t need these emotions any more.
It felt like his amazing light left us through the window. The next day we both sat down and drew what we saw the night before, the sketches were identical. The house seemed to have more room in it from that day on.
Over the years I have put some of the jigsaw pieces together about Mr. Beaujangles, I heard that a deceased aboriginal person’s name should not be uttered for a week after their demise and another told me the man in question (the aboriginal dancer’s name) was reported on a local radio station.
Because of the controversy of the police and Brereton Street incident where the young man tragically died in custody there was much mention of his name.
Another piece of information I found out about this experience was that not all aboriginal tribes paint themselves with ochre before death, and our new friend must have been from the far north. Id heard that his family had had some other tragedy before the police incident. I still wonder about my dream, the aboriginal spirit boy and his dog.
Working near an aboriginal hostel some time later I got up the nerve to ask a kindly aboriginal lady about Mr. Bojangles, she was interested and obliging. She confirmed the year the radio station publicized the incident and reminded me about the memorial service held for him nearby. She also told me how privileged I was to have the crossing over experience with Mr. Bojangles. I told her how there was much information on the net and a book available from the council library with pictures of him and I was lucky I could confirm this whole amazing experience.
Mr. Bojangles was a young aboriginal dancer; I do not want to give out his real name in respect to his friends and family and the Murri community here in Brisbane and his people of the Northern Territory region.
ABORIGINAL CONNECTION
My partner R, took me up to Mt Nebo on a bit of a goose chase one dark night to show me of all things a good place for a lookout, but we were there only a few minutes when I saw a very angry red faced, aboriginal elder’s spirit almost growling at me. I knew immediately women were not permitted up this path. I warned R what I’d seen and he said he felt strange too and was happy to jump in his car and we speed off.
A year or so later we were in Indooroopilly filling in time after purchasing Lord of the Rings movie tickets. We went to a nice spot just under Indooroopilly Bridge. It wasn’t long before relaxing and looking into the sunset on the river when I realized we were not alone. What I saw was amazing.
In a circle I saw some aboriginal men quietly having a gathering. These peaceful spirits were all wearing shorts and some t shirts which surprised me. I sat there describing to R about my sighting and surprise at the welcome I had this time. After a while we got up to walk further under the classic bridge, but we were stopped! One of these men ran after us carrying his lowered stick or spear in his hand he urged us to stop and not go any further.
R saw nothing but was by this stage very confident of my new instructions. This area directly under the bridge is lovely but we admired the view from afar and respected the urging Murri man’s will.
DUTTON PARK CEMETRY AT NIGHT
I want to mention an interesting spirit that R my partner and I met in Dutton Park Cemetery. R is quite younger than I and a dare devil at times. I say that after he decided to witlessly drive my small car through Dutton Park graves on what is not really a road but a path in the lower area of the cemetery closest to the river. It was a hot humid night and a desire to sit by the Brisbane River was the original plan. Well I was closing my window and crying to R to get away as I was always disturbed there in the past.
When I took daylight short cuts through the old and eerie graves to ride the ferry to University I always bolted feeling a little sick. Anyway R gave in to my pleading and parked nearby where we sat recovering. Seated behind R in the back seat a yellow hair woman wearing a white dress boldly watched me. Yikes!!! The first thought was she must get out!! I told her to go and spoke to her like she was flesh and blood. Without doubt I immediately knew I couldn’t help her and told her as much. I thought she had disappeared.
Driving home I found, of all things some incense in my glove box and lit it to clear away a new and funny smell, it was like old stagnate creek water and R could smell it too. We rushed home. I thought our yellow haired new friend had been cleared, but the next day the haunting did not cease. For a few days a ghastly smell was around the house and every time I met R in the living room I would blame him for eating something rotten, poor guy but I soon realized it wasn’t he or anything inside or outside my house.
This odor was of rotting prawns and curiously I was told later by a forensic worker friend, that human decay is of all things like the smell of rotting prawns. It was awful.
I sometimes wonder if the woman’s spirit we encountered near the cemetery was one of the women buried there after being hanged at Boggo road prison, probably a century ago. Why I had no pity for her and immediately knew I couldn’t help her, I will never be sure. Usually I take pity on lost spirits.
To date Yellow haired woman, would have to be the most clear of visions I’ve had of a whole spirit’s body.
BULLARD STREET
Subsequent to moving into a half house in Greenslopes I acquired an antique wardrobe it fitted nicely with my bedroom furniture. Watching television one late night, my new partner and I were sitting on the couch and facing the entrance hallway when I saw something move quickly. Well I spotted a child or a very short person’s blond hair flying sideways into view and then disappear. A moment passed enough time for me to say ‘I saw a little girl peeping around th
e corner’ to a surprised Todd, when we both heard a loud creaking door noise. We both jumped up to investigate, probably because I thought it was a child that we had the inane bravery that we always complain about in scary movies. Pushing the door open and closed did not simulate the creaking sound until I put some of my body weight onto the old metal bedroom door handle. The child or midget must have swung on the door there was no doubt.
The next day I rang two people, my cousin Patricia who gave me the now spooky wardrobe and a friend who gave me instructions in how to pass on a child spirit.
HOFF STREET HORROR
I was with Todd looking to buy a house south side of Brisbane.
We were a little wicked and had a look around a back yard of a house for sale without contacting a real estate. It was a cute cottage in Hoff St. Mt Gravatt. and it didn’t seem such a sin initially. We walked into the small leafy front yard and felt comfortable enough at first. It had a cute and welcoming balcony entrance and the house was painted happy butter yellow and white trims.
We sauntered down the narrow side pathway and first noticed a spar pool full of green left over water, I remembered thinking how it looked like the last occupants left in a big hurry. I looked through a small side window into the laundry and at a bare open cemented space and wanted a closer look.
Todd was deciding where the back yard boundary finished, while I crossed the threshold to the laundry area. Looking up I noticed a dark water stain on the architrave. I called Todd and as he joined me strangely we both looked towards the front of the house at the same time. We were peering through a hole in a walled off room directly below the front balcony. The black as ink hole was made by three missing Besser bricks.
What Todd saw was different to what I felt. He thought he saw a large black vicious dog flying at him to attack. I felt a horrible male energy yelling and warning me off. We both gasped and ran away. What is funny ha ha, is as we both ran up the side of the house Todd was behind; he grabbed and stopped me, to pass by me thus leaving me at the back, shocked and vulnerable.
For three days afterward both Todd and I loathed being alone, I found I was most afraid in the shower. It was horrible to recall the events and the information that flooded me as we screeched away from that terror. A devil of a man was murdered and buried there over 20 years earlier.
LILLY
Some of a small homeopathic class was gathering at one of the more colorful student’s home in Rainworth.
I had already witnessed a ghost sighting in her house and curiosity had brought me back for more. Ghostie Lilly came and went over the years, with no particular routine. Lilly once had stood at the end of a couple’s bed who were guests of the house, reporting the next morning they thought the owner had been sleep walking in their room.That was because of the blond hair.
The youngest student stayed the night just before we had our student study gathering,but had no sighting despite my forewarning. Still that day she seemed on edge, but sat in the very seat, earlier, I’d told how Lilly had poked a metal skewer toward my uncovered left ear. At the time I thought Lilly knew when I was a child I had a complex about the size of my ears. This seat was closest to the hall leading to a disturbing fire place and a bedroom I was sure was the hot spot of the spirit energy.
We were all chatting and there was a good feel in the dimly lit room. I was looking ahead when I was alerted to turn my head left to the poor young girl landing back onto the couch and a long way down!! I think mostly everyone in the room bar me saw her speedily ascend so high in her fright state and of course they were laughing and squealing by the time she was on the way down. She now seated in a meditative poise, looked hilarious. I have a feeling her adrenalin rush was also something to do with my forewarnings.
BATHROOM HAUNTING
A Rochedale house was the setting for the bathroom haunting and without an intuitive dog no one would have believed me this time.
There was a time I regularly visited at a dearly missed friend’s house not too far from the Chinese Temple in this suburb.
Every time I visited his WC I had the strong feeling that I couldn’t wash my hands in the next room, the bathroom.
As time passed the only occupants left in the house was my male friend and the dog named Woof. The guy had always dismissed my ghostie sensing.
Till one day, one of our many phone conversations he let it slip that he had witnessed Woof alarmingly barking at a shampoo bottle in that bathroom and admitted he solved the problem. Stiffly he relayed the creepy experience, how he phoned a medium he found advertised in the newspaper and she generously and emotionally eradicated the unwanted
ghostie for free. This usual, joker of a guy had never been so serious in all the years of knowing him.
BULIMBA BOOGIE MAN
A fine family in Bulimba had a very aggressive presence in their house this year of 2007. They had moved into a brand new house which had no end of builder’s faults to the great hassle of the new occupants. It wasn’t long till the strange goings on commenced. I heard the story daily blow by blow. Firstly one of the teenage daughter’s bedroom door handle was nearly shaken off the door as it was locked. She asked the next day who was trying my door last night?
It seemed as the days dragged by this now identified me ghost would do his thing when the husband was on night shift. One weekend night the mum text me many times telling me how terrified she was as she heard sounds like furniture being dragged down the stairs. She was asking for my help, it was late and frankly I was a bit too frightened to go there and try some exit persuasion techniques. The other factor was there were small
children in the house and my suggestion of playing loud annoying music or simply swearing at him to go just, was not an option. It seemed that the whole family had no alternative but to discuss another house move, so soon. The husband came to me one day and said he had witnessed the kitchen door open and close. It was daytime and he admitted exhaustion with the rest of the household from no sleep.
I purchased a smudge stick for the family to use and the ghostie apparently moved back to annoy the next door neighbors, thank goodness.
White sage is a common herb used in smudge sticks for this purpose and as I’m working in a crystal store making and selling smudge sticks I was happy to arrange one.
The smoking smudge stick ritual was successful; the neighbors got the jack of Mr. Boogie man and called in a priest. The priest traced Mr.Boogie man to another house where the person who conjured up the ghostie lived and followed her into Bulimba next door neighbors house. When he arrived outside the original offender’s door the priest said the house was too evil to enter so that’s how the story has come to date.
Friend and her family have slept well at least.
BOB THE BUILDER MARK 2
Not so long ago, I made a lovely friend who was very interested in the sale value of his house in Greenslopes. We actually met at a spiritual group meeting nearby. Craig found out recently he had Aboriginal blood.
He was one of those people I have met in my life where I just knew I needed to pursue to know and would find out. Seven months later I had my answer.
A very comfortable leather couch had me frequently slumped and chatting to Craig at his home. Straight ahead of my seated view was an unused bedroom. It wasn’t long into those visits that I spotted a large man peeping around the open doorway at me. Craig was making his specialty tea in the other room and I relayed some amusing information from
my newly named ghostie friend. Bob the builder, told me how the roof had a hole in it
“Hey Craig the ghostie told me there’s a hole in the roof.” I got the no reaction expression and a change of subject.
A few days later I’m again visiting after some rain to witness buckets spread around collecting the drips of a leaking roof. Craig admitted he wasn’t uncomfortable that there was obviously something in the house. He joked that Bob probably was not happy with the house being a product of two halves joined, and there was shoddy cementing downstairs.
The conversation over some weeks concluded to Craig selling out and moving away. I protested how Bob needed us and what would he do. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I sensed and saw Bob leave the spare room for the first time. He went into Craig’s room and started rustling around. I was sure he would hear it! But Craig decided to go investigate instead; as he walked through the architrave Bob slid sideways outward passing Craig’s side on with as wide a gap as possible. I called Craig out of the room to sit by my side and hold my hand.
I decided to pass Bob over to the light, it was nighttime and I ordered Craig to stay by my side not knowing how long Id take. So there was Bob an arms length from my right side, holding a large object wrapped in some fabric. I thought he had packed his swag, in readiness. But no, Bob opened the parcel and handed me a large gold cross. I thought about reaching out to take it, not knowing the meaning of the gift.
It almost happened immediately; two very dark figures dragged Bob backwards into the front section of the open planned room. Then the most beautiful sight, the whole room lit up and I estimated another fifty head sized lights entered the room and left with Bob.
‘Wow Craig’ was all I could say, he still holding my hand thank goodness. I relayed and reenacted the experience up to the part about the gold cross and I reached out to take the now vanished cross and to my delight there was a jelly like energy in the now empty space. Many times Craig and I repeated the grabbing action, while oohing and ahhing!
The jelly barrier loomed for about half and hour. Craig was convinced and greatly amused by this strange jelly energy barrier.
Later that night Craig remembered the day two years earlier his first inspection of his house when first for sale. How he saw a large gold cross on the front bedroom wall.
Another detail he remembered was the mother and daughter lived on there after the husband failed to return from the war. I thought that fifty of Bob’s dead mates crossed over to get him, but just lately I heard that when a spirit is passed over many other spirits waiting, rally around to pass over together.
The real confirmation to having passed spirits over to the light is when the next day you visit. The emptiness but extra light in the house is so apparent. It’s as if the house has had a fresh coat of light paint.
An impression I had about Bob the builder was he thought that Craig and I were the ghosts and he was viewing us from a safe distance, until I convinced him otherwise.
No more Aboriginal spirits have appeared to me but the list grows of
Anglo spirits of all age groups, which I am glad to have passed over many, that would let me. I will continue to pass on as many as I can of these lost and lonely spirits.
I wanted to mention in my opinion there are strong similarities between the original pre Mogul Indian and Aboriginal peoples when the two continents joined once in the worlds history, and just maybe there is a spiritual connection still existing. I believe that an awaking happened to me in India and that it is a superior personal development direction that I will keep on the increase as long as I live.
Ref:
http://www.naturaltherapypages.com.au/therapist/21250
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