Ghosts on the beach

By Peter A Morris

Sitting on the beach, in a favorite place by Dallas Road, tucked in between some logs that kept the wind away, I drifted off into a nice meditative space where I was immune to everything, even the pins and needles in my backside!

I have no idea of how long I had been drifting, but suddenly, a voice said loud and clear even to my deaf ears "I've seen you here before!" As I was drawn back from my nice quiet place I was aware of this elderly looking gentleman sitting next to me. He continued, "I have seen you here before and you can see us right? I mean you can see people who have 'died' and gone over to live in the Spirit World?"

"Well, yes that is true" I replied "Yes," he said "we get to know lots of things over here, and I have seen how you started to see ghosts after getting blown up on the bus in WWII and how you were 'chosen' to be able to do that to help people?" "Yes," I said "and I have seen a lot since then. Were you in that war?"

"Lord bless you no Guv." I landed over here a long time before that, 1875, that was the year I arrived here from England on a bloody awful ship that was runnin' slaves back home. I got fed up with it and jumped ship. I couldn't stand to see the way they treated them. Nobody should be treated like that, and all for money. Some 'fat cats' sitting at home who would never even see them, but just pick up their profits."

"That would be hard to live with" I said "I don't blame you for getting off the ship. Did they come looking for you?" I asked. "Oh yeah! But I was younger and fitter in those days and there were lots of places to hide, lots of trees and bushes, and they soon got tired and gave up."

"So what brings you here today, visiting with me?" I asked him, "and by the way, my name's Peter, what's yours?" "Huh, I'm Bill. Funny, names don't seem so important here in spirit. We seem to, well, just know everybody! But why I'm here is that I am on a search for lost souls, you know people whot have 'died,' as you call it, and don't believe where they are, so I look for them and try to explain what had happened to them and try to convince them to come 'home' with me".

That's when I saw you sitting, and you were 'out of your body' so deep were you in yourself, I thought I would come and say hello!"

"I'm glad you did" I said, "Have you had any success?" I asked Bill, "Oh! yeah he said, "You know what? It just amazes me every time I come on these 'searches' just how many there are who believe when you are dead that's it, there 'ain't no more,' and some of 'em just will not believe what you tell them. Well, you must remember that from when you used to talk to all those people and those who would come up to you after and tell that they just didn't believe it?"

"True enough Bill, though now I do not have the energy to argue with them. When they get over to the 'other side' they will have lots of 'Good Samaritan's like you to help them find your way!" and we had a good laugh. "I notice you use the language of the life you spent in East London, your Cockney accent is still strong.

"Funny thing," said Bill, the majority of people seem to feel at home with it. Of all the one's I could use, this is the one I use most. Well I should go and see if I can find some waifs and strays. That is what I came here to do. I will look for you next time." And with that, he was gone.

As he left, I came slowly out of my meditation and became aware of the waves that were coming closer and the wind that was getting cooler.

I reflected on what had just happened, something that used to occur frequently in my earlier days when I taught about life after death and spoke regularly with spirits and took part in ghost busting and helping spirits to leave houses or places in which they had lived prior to their 'death' and refused to leave places that were home to them, in spite of their family and loved ones waiting for them.

This is the kind of work Bill is doing now, and it satisfying to be successful at times. Meeting him brought back many memories from the sixty plus years I did this work, and all thanks to getting 'blown up' by an enemy bomber.