"The Palomino"

Part Eight of "In Touch With His Soul, An Interview with Walden Welch", as conducted by Gina Cerminara. 

WW: "The last day Joanie and I ever shared together fell on a Sunday. It was one of those exceptionally beautiful days that only the first days of springtime can bring. The sky was so vibrantly blue that I recall Joanie commenting, 'It looks like God painted it with Easter egg dye,' and that grass was so green that it reminded her of a picture postcard she had seen of the emerald hills of Ireland. The fruit trees in our yard had begun their bloom, and pink and white blossoms Joanie described as looking like popcorn and candy cotton surrounded us from every angle. It was May 29, 1955. On June 1^st Joanie would have had her 12^th birthday. She was six months older than I when she died.

"Sunday was always our full day to play together. Full, that was, after I tended to the chickens and mowed our lawn. Bucky spent Sundays visiting his mother and sister in Rio Vista, which was a pleasure for me, for we two still failed to get along. Joanie would come to my house and help me with my chores every Sunday to take Bucky's place. When she arrived that last Sunday of our lives together, I had already tended to the chickens and was mowing the lawn. Joanie grabbed a rake and swept the grass clippings into little haystack shaped mounds to be picked up and scattered around the trunks of our walnut trees for mulch. However, on this day I came up with what I thought was a far better idea and purpose for the unwanted clippings. Guy had just bought a deep freezer, our very first. It was white and large and bulky, one of those coffin shaped ones where you had to slide open the top and look down inside. Mom hadn't yet shopped enough to fill it with much of anything so my idea was to deep freeze some of the grass clippings to save for the birds to eat in the coming wintertime when green grass would no longer be available. Joanie agreed that it was a brilliant idea, so I ran into the house to ask Mom if I could please have her permission. Mom good-humouredly said she thought I had come up with a very kind and thoughtful idea, so she gave me several plastic freezer bags, which Joanie and I scooped full of fresh mown grass and stacked in the freezer for storage. I had no idea at that time that this simple childish idea would soon cause the change in Mom's and my lives that we so desperately longed for."

Dr: "Do you mean freezing the grass?"

WW: "Yes, but I will explain how this changed our lives when I get there."

Dr: "Very well. I am assuming that the day that you are currently describing was the day before your friend Joanie Howell died?"

WW: "Yes."

Dr: "Do you recall what else you two did that day?"

WW: "Distinctly. We did what we always did· we played horses. (Laugh) Pretending that we were two horses was the only game Joanie ever wanted to play. Joanie was obsessed with Golden Palominos. She had already made up our minds that when we two grew up we would get married, move to a ranch in Montana and raise Palominos. That was her dream of dreams."

Dr: " And what was your dream of dreams?"

WW: " To be a famous movie actor and live in a big mansion in Beverly Hills·preferably next door to Susan Hayward." (Laugh)

Dr: "Not to marry Joanie and raise Palominos?"

WW: "The last thing I wanted was to have a farm of any kind! I had had enough of running a farm, thank you. I never told her that. It would have spoiled her dream. But we were children and, of course, I thought Joanie and I would marry. We agreed to have both a farm in Montana and a house in Beverly Hills and spend half of a year in each place."

Dr: "Even in your youth you were quite the diplomat as well as being the perfect gentleman!"

WW: "But of course! Joanie's obsession with playing horses had her parents, teachers and my mother, all very worried. Her parents, not knowing what else to do, finally decided to send her to a psychiatrist once a week. Joanie would go for several days at a time without speaking so much as one human word. If someone would ask her a question she would toss her head back, shake it from side, tossing her long blond hair as if it were a horses mane. Her answer would come as a verbal 'neigh' as horses do, and then she would stamp her foot as if it were a horse's hoof. This behavior went on for many months."

Dr: (Laugh) "How bizarre! I should well imagine her parents were concerned! Did Joanie stop humanly communicating with you as well?"

WW: "Only while we were playing horses. Otherwise, she would speak to me normally. We shared our own private little world together. She never excluded me as she did others. I'm not certain what caused this condition of hers, this intentional separation from others. I know her father, John, had a drinking problem, but I am certain Joanie was never abused. Mr. And Mrs. Howell had their own personal relationship problems, but they adored their two children. I know that Elsie favored Joanie. Joanie meant everything to her. She was Elsie's world. Anyone could see that. Joanie was incredibly beautiful. People would stare at her, astonished by her beauty. Joanie was aware of the adoration and attention she attracted, but she didn't care. She was never vain."

Joanie

Dr: "What else do you remember of that final day you two spent together?"

WW: "Almost everything. As I said, I have a remarkably excellent memory. I recall what an incredibly beautiful day it was·the sky, the blossoms and the warm spring air. I think it may have been the first really beautiful day after a long dismal winter and that is why it is so memorable.

"After we finished doing my chores we rode our bikes to a place we called 'our special place', which was a huge grassy field far to the north of South Olive Avenue. There was a narrow river that ran through it, lots of shrubs, oaks, bay and poplar trees. It was a beautiful spot, and very private and secluded. This was our favorite place to play. There was never anyone else around. When we arrived there on that final day, I recall that Joanie was thrilled because the field was ablaze with yellow mustard flowers, and that we picked bouquets of them and stacked them in our bicycle baskets to take home to our mothers. I don't believe there was anything else remarkable about that final day together. We played horses as usual, laid together in the field of mustard and chatted about whatever was important to us at that time, and then rode our bikes home in time for our dinners as we always did. I had no idea this would be the last time I would ever seen Joanie alive. I had no precognition that she would die as soon as she did."

Dr: " This may be a foolish thing to ask but did you ever tell Joanie that you had a premonition that she would die?"

WW: "No, I kept that a secret from her for obvious reasons. I would never have scared her like that."

Dr: "Of course you wouldn't. I just had to ask in order to be thorough. And so, you returned home that Sunday evening to have your dinner. When did you become aware that Joanie had died?"

WW: "The following morning. It was a Monday morning and I was dressing for school. I heard an ambulance siren from outside. It sounded as if it were coming up the street to our house. It scared me because I thought maybe Mom was ill and had phoned for it, so I ran into the kitchen to see if she was all right. I remember that I was relieved because she was ironing clothes. The siren passed by our house down the street somewhere and then the sound of the siren stopped.  It concerned Mom that someone in our neighborhood might be sick or have had an accident. We stood on our front porch looking up the street, but there was no ambulance in sight. Thinking everything was o.k., Mom kissed me goodbye and I walked up the street to meet Joanie so that we could walk to school together as we always did. When I arrived at her home I saw the ambulance and a police car parked in the driveway. Two or three officers were in the yard outside the house. From inside I could hear Mrs. Howell screaming, 'No! No! No! God, No!' It was a frightening and awful sound. I remember being very frightened. I walked up to an officer and asked what was wrong. I remember him gently pushing me and telling me to go home and keep out of the way. No sooner had he said that when two ambulance drivers dressed in white exited the house from the front door. They were carrying a stretcher. I could see that there was a small body lying on it covered with a white sheet. They hoisted the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. While doing so, I saw Joanie's arm slip out from beneath the sheet. I knew it was she because I saw the silver Palomino charm bracelet I had given her around her wrist. It all happened so unexpectedly that I don't recall much else·just the screaming, Mrs. Howell screaming. I ran home. I ran as fast as I could. I told Mom what I saw. I remember how shocked and upset she looked. She told me something, but I can't remember. Everything seemed surreal and disjointed. I recall that she told me to stay in the house, but I walked into our front yard and watched her walk up the street towards Joanie's house. There were a lot of neighbors standing on their porches trying to see what had happened. I do recall that. The next thing I remember was riding my bicycle. I was following the ambulance that had Joanie's body in it. I remember the ambulance leaving Joanie's house and driving up the street towards mine. As it neared our house I got on my bicycle and started following it, peddling as fast as I could, but I couldn't keep up. I kept screaming, 'Stop! Wait!' at the ambulance. What a crazy thing to do! I must have been in such a state of shock and disbelief that my actions were totally erratic and senseless. I remember doing crazy things·just crazy things."

Dr: "Such as what?"

WW: "Such as throwing rocks. I rode my bike to 'our secret place' and ran out into the field where we had played the day before and started throwing rocks as high and as far as I could into the sky. I kept hollering, 'Damn You! Damn you! I don't like you anymore.'"

Dr: " I don't understand? Whom were you talking to?"

WW: "God. I was throwing rocks at Him, venting my anger. I thought heaven was in the sky above us in those days. I was so hurt, confused, angry and distraught. This was one of the most insane moments I have even experienced in my life. It was never my nature to be violent in any way. This is one of the only times that I can ever remember that I was. I just kept throwing rocks into the sky hoping to hit God and yelling, 'Damn you' until I was exhausted and couldn't scream anymore. At some point during this explosion I heard my mother calling me. I didn't see her car from across the field and had no idea she even knew about 'our secret place'.  She was walking towards me through the grass and I became very worried she might become too exhausted and what that could do to her heart, so I told her to stop and I ran to her. She looked extremely upset and worried, and kept asking me, 'Come here·come here, Sweetheart·come to me.' She put her arms around me and I could hear her heaving for breath, which scared me. 'Are you all right, Mama?' I asked.  She said that she was and asked me to sit down in the grass beside her. 'I know Honey·I know. I know what you're feeling·I know.' She had an arm around my shoulder, her hand tenderly rubbing my cheek with her forefinger slightly beneath my right eye. I knew that she was searching to see if I had been crying, searching for tears. But, there weren't any. I remember smelling her scent of 'My Sin' perfume and feeling safer having her with me. It was an awkward time for I knew there was nothing that could be said which would make what happened in anyway right. Perhaps I just tried to melt into her to pretend there was nothing else but us together and nothing else existed. I knew Mom knew all that I felt. She didn't have to be told, for the silence was enough. Knowing that I was finally calmed she asked, 'Why were you throwing rocks? I've never seen you do that before. Is it because you are mad because of Joanie having left you?' 'No,' I answered truthfully. 'I'm not mad at Joanie. It wasn't her fault that she died. I'm mad at God and I was throwing rocks at Him for what He did to her. He lets everyone I love get hurt and die. What did Joanie ever do to have to die? What did Brutus do? He could have stopped Joanie and Brutus from dying, but He didn't! I don't like Him! I don't like Him at all! I think He is a lie and I don't believe in Him anymore.' Mom pulled me even tighter to her saying, 'Shhhhh·its o.k. You believe in Him. If you don't think He is there, why are you throwing rocks at Him as if He was? You wouldn't be doing that if you didn't believe in Him, would you? One day you will understand. All things have to one-day die. Some people die earlier than others. Some live to be older. It is just the nature and the way things are in this world. God knows what He is doing. He has important reasons to do what He must do. You must trust that and believe. Everything we must go through is a test for our faith in Him. Our little minds cannot even begin to understand God's infinite wisdom. Besides, I'm still here. I didn't die.' 'No, but you almost did. You died for three minutes.  And, even though you came back, He didn't make you well. He made you be bedridden for five years. He made us poor. He makes us live here with Guy. He lets your heart be sick. You can't eat salt or all the good foods that other people eat, or do the things that other people can do. You have to take lots of medicine everyday to stay alive. What did you ever do to be punished? You're the nicest person in the world. Why didn't he make a bad person sick? It doesn't make sense and it isn't fair!' I really don't recall all that I said, but what I have related is, of course, what likely came from my hurt and confusion. What I do recall clearly is the things that my mother said to me. How she found the words to console such a young child I do not know. She had a way of healing the wounds in my heart.  She was the only person who intimately really knew and understood me. Only one other person, who I was to meet much later in my life, has ever had this total understanding of me."

Dr: "Please share with me what you remember her saying."

WW: "Mom said to me, 'God gave you a special and very rare gift·the ability to see things before they happen. I think that He loves you so much that He wanted you to know, and be prepared that it was Joanie's time to die. He thinks that you have the wisdom to know that all things are planned ahead of time, not just the good things, but the sad things too. He doesn't share the gift of prophecy with just anyone, you know? For some reason, He loves you so much that He wanted you to be prepared. I think you should thank Him for caring enough to prepare you, don't you? I know that you're young and you don't know how to understand this special gift, but you will in time. Just be patient. God will teach you when it is time. Learning to use your gift is much the same as learning to ride a bicycle or learning how to throw a baseball. It takes time and practice, but pretty soon it becomes very easy and natural. You will see. Just be patient.'

"She went on to explain to me how Jesus cried when Lazarus died. I hadn't read that Bible story before. Mom explained to me that Lazarus was Jesus' best friend and that when he died Christ wept, not because He did not know that life was eternal, but because He would miss seeing Lazarus in the flesh everyday. 'He also cried because He was so happy that His friend Lazarus had gone to heaven and would finally find happiness eternal.' She went on to say that she thought people misunderstood the reason Jesus had cried. 'What Jesus really cried from was sheer happiness, because He knew the joy that Lazarus would experience.' And then she shared with me her experience when she had died."

Dr: "On the operating table?"

WW: "Yes. She said, 'Do you remember when I was in the hospital and I died for a little while?' 'Yes, when you spoke with The Librarian,' I replied. She continued, 'Do you remember what I saw when I looked through the doorway to heaven?' 'Yes, you saw your dead grandfather and your little dog Betsy, and you heard the music of the angels,' I answered. 'Yes, it was very wonderful. Remember, too, that I told you I knew that this door, the one from which the music of the angels came, was the door to happiness because the feeling of everything was so very wonderful. Well, I know that that is where Joanie is now because I have been there, and I also know how wonderful she must feel because I felt that too.' I asked if Mom thought that maybe Joanie was with Betsy now. She replied, 'No, not with Betsy. She didn't know Betsy. I'll bet she is in that special part of heaven where God keeps the horses. That would be the most perfect place of all for her to be. I believe that God wants her to tend the horses because that is what she loves the most of all.' (Laugh) Somehow, due to my young age, Mom's reasoning made sense to me. I replied, 'Yes of course! And the raccoons, too.' Mom hadn't realized Joanie had a fondness for raccoons so I told her that she had two pet ones named Randy and Rhonda in cages in her backyard. 'We give them sugar cubes to eat. You know how raccoons wash everything before they eat it? Boy do they get mad when they wash the sugar cubes because the sugar dissolves and disappears. They get so mad they throw things at us. It's really funny.' I remember Mom laughing and telling me it was naughty to tease the raccoons. 'Because they are creatures of God, too, and because God loves them as much as he does people.' She reminded me of Noah's Ark and how God had asked Noah to save two of every variety of animal, and that included raccoons as well. When she finished retelling the story, she asked me if I knew how to feel the presence and closeness of Joanie anytime I wanted to. I said that I didn't, so she pulled me closer to her and placed her hands over my eyes. 'Can you remember her face? Can you see it in your memory?' she asked. I replied that I could. 'Then Joanie will always live within there and you can have her in your memory forever.' Next she placed her hand over my heart and asked me, 'Does your heart ache because Joanie died?' I answered that it did.  'My heart hurts. It feels like a big, soggy balloon that is filled with warm water.' 'Then that is Joanie that you are feeling inside your heart and so you know she will always live within there too. She is now a part of you forever and that is how God lets people who have died and who we love never leave us. She lives in your mind. She lives in your heart. She will always be alive, but in another way. Now you will always know where to find her when you need her.'"

Dr: "How lovely. What a lovely analogy to give a child."

WW: "I will always remember that day, Mom and I sitting amidst the bright yellow mustard flowers and sharing one of the saddest days of my life together. It was May 30, 1955. Joanie would have been twelve on June 1^st. The week before I had bought her a beautiful porcelain Palomino statuette from the 5 and dime for her birthday. I regretted that she had not lived to see it.

"I don't recall too much about her funeral. I remember there were many, many people there - all dressed in black, most whom I did not know. Mom had bought me my very first suit. It was dark gray flannel and I recall how uncomfortable it felt, all prickly and warm. Mom told me, 'You look so handsome. Joanie would love the way you look.' She was proud to be seen with me. I think the funeral was held in a funeral home rather than a church. I recall the smell of gardenias and lilacs and roses. I had never seen a dead body before and I was frightened to face the moment I would have to view Joanie. Her casket was up front at the far end of the room. From where we were seated I could not see her body inside. Poor Mrs. Howell was suffering such agony and pain that it hurt just to look at her. She had that frightened screaming look on her face·the sort of look an animal has when it is cornered and has no where to escape. Her son John Howell, Jr. and her husband John sat together at her left. They seemed to both just stare at the floor, feeling awkward and trying, like men, not to cry. The funeral director came to where Mom, Guy, Bucky and I were seated. He said that Mrs. Howell requested that Mom and I sit beside her. I was seated next to Elsie and Mom sat at my right. During the eulogy both woman held and squeezed each of my hands. I did my very best not to cry despite the fact it was heart breaking to hear Mom and Elsie weeping beside me. I remember just sitting there and biting my lower lip trying not to cry because, for some crazy reason, it was something that men were not suppose to do. It has always confused me as to why. How could it possibly be considered manly and noble for a man not to cry at times of great sorrow? I remember sad organ music and people walking single line past Joanie's casket, stopping for a moment to look at her body inside. Throughout the ceremony I searched the room with my eyes hoping to see Joanie's spirit body standing somewhere there amongst the crowd. The Howells, Mom and I, waited until everyone had left the room and then Mrs. Howell asked me if I would like to say goodbye to Joanie, and I knew that the moment I dreaded would now have to be faced. As John, Jr. lifted me so that I could view the body in the casket I held my breath. To my great surprise Joanie looked as if she were simply sleeping. My fear of what death would look like left me, for she was every bit as beautiful as ever. They had dressed her in a pale yellow dress with appliquéd white daisies. I remembered her wearing that same dress the Easter Sunday before. The casket was lined in white satin and her head rested on a soft shiny pillow that matched. She looked so beautiful it was hard to believe she was dead. Around her left wrist she wore the sterling silver Palomino charm bracelet I had given her for Christmas. It was then, seeing that bracelet, that I could no longer control trying to be manly and finally began to cry. Mom asked me if I would like to kiss her goodbye, and I said that I would. I kissed her on the cheek and spoke to her silently from within my head, as one would communicate with a spirit. Other than saying 'I love you', I don't recall what I said. It was mostly what I felt and I didn't want to share that with anyone else but her so I said it to her silently from inside myself.

"Mom preferred that I did not attend the burial service. I suppose she thought that would be too traumatic for me, so the two of us drove home alone together. I asked Mom why hadn't I been able to see Joanie's spirit at the funeral. How come I was able to see Eugene's sprit when I didn't really even know or like him and not be able to see Joanie's spirit when she was my best friend and I loved her with all my heart?  Mom answered that she thought, 'Joanie might still be resting. Sometimes a spirit sleeps for a while before it wakes up and then travels on to heaven.' 'Or maybe she was busy feeding the horses?' I asked. 'I'm not sure,' Mom replied. 'But I'm certain she had a very good reason. Now close your eyes and remember her face.' She reached across the seat of the car putting a hand over my heart. 'How does your heart feel?' she asked. 'Like a big, soggy balloon that is filled with warm water,' I replied. 'Good. Now you know where Joanie is.'"

"I think I felt somewhat betrayed that Joanie had not appeared to me in spirit. If I had a 'special gift' as Mom said I had·.then why didn't it work when I wanted it to? I did not go to school for several days after Joanie's funeral. Mom thought it best that I stay at home for a while. I was reluctant to return to school anyway."

Dr: "Why reluctant?"

WW: "Because after my frightening encounter with the spirit of Eugene in my classroom all the kids started calling me 'Spook' and 'Crazy' and, of course, I was sensitive to that. I felt like both a fool and a freak. Also, being teacher's pet was a curse. Your peers frown on anyone considered to be the teacher's pet. Now that Joanie was gone, I didn't see any reason for going to school anymore. However, reluctant or not, I of course had to return. My desk was directly next to a window at the back of the classroom. Joanie's desk sat next to the right of mine. Students were seated alphabetically by last names in those days."

Dr: "But how is that? That's not in order·Welch and Howell?"

WW: "Remember? I used Foss, my stepfather's name, during that time. We didn't have any student whose last name began with a 'G' so that placed us beside each other."

Dr: "Yes, of course. I forgot you were using the name Foss then."

WW: "On the day I finally returned to school we were experiencing a terrible wind storm. I have never liked the wind. I find the wind to be haunting and frightening. I took the school bus that morning to avoid walking in the storm. When I arrived I saw that Joanie's desk had been decorated like a memorial. There was a vase of daisies atop it along with a large handmade sympathy card, which all the kids had signed and that was to be given to Mr. And Mrs. Howell. Even though I had not attended school in several days, Mrs. Scott did not want to send it off until I had signed it too.  I was glad that the desk did not look vacated. I was dreading having to see Joanie's desk without her seated there or, worse yet, somebody else seated in her place. Somehow or other, it did not seem so lonely because the desk was decorated as a memorial to her memory. Anyway, on that day one of the most wonderful psychic happenings I have ever experienced occurred. Naturally, in my teen and adult years I have had more important psychic occurrences, meaning revelations that have helped other people. But, during my early childhood years, other than the visitation I received from the spirit of my deceased great-grandfather and his prophecy that my mother would not die, the happening I am about to share with you was, to me, my most wonderful. It was unlike any other psychic experience I had encountered before, more wondrous perhaps, because it was about Joanie."

Dr: "Please share."

WW: "On that day I recall that Mrs. Scott was standing at the front of the classroom giving a geography lesson about Nova Scotia. She was originally from Nova Scotia so her lessons usually strayed back to that, her favorite subject. She was talking on and on about what wonderful clam chowder the Nova Scotia's made. Having heard her talk on this subject, over and over again, my bored mind began to wander and I averted my attention to what was going on outside the window in the schoolyard.  Our school was very new, so the playground was a rather bleak and ugly one. No landscaping had been done yet so there was no lawn or trees to improve the flat drabness of it all. I remember watching papers and dust and dead leaves swirling and spiraling about in the wind. Suddenly, off in the distance, I saw a bright golden horse. It was so bright and golden in fact that it took my breath away! We had no pets or animals of any kind at our school, so of course it was amazing to see a horse there. I did not realize at that moment that the horse was not real. I lurched forward from my desk and tapped Raymond Tipton on the shoulder and whispered, 'Hey! Look at the horse.' He turned to look out the window then replied to me, 'What horse? I don't see no horse, Pee Wee.' I pointed to the direction of the horse, but he just shrugged his shoulders and whispered back, 'You're seeing things again, Pee Wee. There ain't no horse there.' It was at that time I began to suspect something unusual was happening to me. I looked very carefully and intently to be certain that what I was seeing was not just a figment of my imagination or just something that was blurring in the wind. And then I noticed that there was a young girl sitting on top of the horse and a tall thin lady standing along side them. The entire apparition seemed to flicker and pulsate. What I was viewing appeared to be surreal. The images would become clear, then fade. It was as if the wind was distorting the figures. As the image would clear I realized that there was something very familiar about the girl. I couldn't see her features well for I was such a long distance away, but I felt I knew her. It was not until I noticed the figure of the girl raising her arm above her head and waving her hand at me that I realized it was Joanie. It was then that I could hear her calling to me. Her voice was so clear it sounded as if she were beside me, when in truth she was communicating to me inside my head. You know? It's the way spirits do."

Dr: "What did she say to you?"

WW: "She said, 'Wally come see! Come see Beauty! Wally, come see! Look at me! Look at Beauty!'"

Dr: "I don't understand. What did she mean? Did you understand what she was saying?"

WW: "Oh, yes! You see, Joanie's favorite book was 'Black Beauty', but her greatest wish was to own her very own Golden Palomino horse whom she said she would name 'Beauty'·just 'Beauty'. Anyway, the amazement of hearing her voice caused me to loose control of both my rational mind as well as my body. Unknowingly, I wet myself. I was not conscious of the fact I had done this. It was Raymond who first noticed that I had wet my pants.  I remember him staring at me in disbelief saying, 'Mrs. Scott! Pee Wee's done wet his self. He's sick or somethin'. Somethin's the matter with Pee Wee.' And then I remember Mrs. Scott rushing across the classroom towards me while the children all stood and stared at me and laughed. Mrs. Scott kept asking me, 'What's wrong with you?' over and over again. She knelt down beside me looking very worried and concerned and kept feeling my forehead to see if I had a fever. I'm certain that I must have been horribly embarrassed and ashamed regarding my accident, but at that time I was so transfixed by the apparitions outside the window that I think I was unaware as to what I had done. I do remember whispering to Mrs. Scott, 'I see Joanie. I see Joanie!' and her look of confusion and concern while she repeatedly asked me, 'Where?' I just stood there pointing out the window to the spot in the far distance where I saw the apparitions of the tall woman and Joanie and the horse. Next, I recall Mrs. Scott taking me into the coat room and trying to put my coat on me while we rushed out of the schoolroom into the playground and then us two standing together in the barren windswept field. We walked to within several feet from where I saw the three apparitions. She kept asking me, 'Show me where she is. Please show me.' and I knew that she believed me despite the fact she could not witness the sight that I beheld. I just stood still and pointed to the spot where the figures were. I don't believe I spoke a word at all. I can't remember. Everything was so surreal."

Dr: "You were probably too transfixed? Or maybe in shock and frightened?"

WW: "Not in shock or frightened. Transfixed perhaps, yes."

Dr: "What did you see, exactly?"

WW: "The most majestically beautiful golden horse one could imagine. It was a Golden Palomino with a radiant light yellow mane that appeared to blow and flair about high above his head, but in the opposite direction from the way the wind was blowing that day. It was like watching seaweed sway as it does in the currents of the oceans floors. It's a grotesque yet fascinating sight, surreal as if in slow motion. Joanie was seated bareback upon the horse. She was laughing happily and gleefully. Happiness emanated from her. She seemed thrilled and excited and oh so very proud. She looked as she had always looked in life except that her coloring was brighter, more intense·more vivid. She was not transparent as most people assume spirit manifestations to be. She appeared to be of solid flesh and light. Almost all my sightings of spirits have appeared to me as realistic solid figures. These figures are just brighter and more colorful than the norm, that's all. I have experienced very few spirit manifestations that are of the ghostly or transparent kind. Her lips never moved. She spoke to me inside my head as spirits always do; this is the way of their communication. 'Wally·Oh, Wally·look at Beauty! Look at my Beauty! Do you see Beauty?' I finally spoke. I remember startling myself when I heard the sound of my voice. I just kept yelling out to her beyond the sound of the wind, 'Oh, yes Joanie·I see her·I see her.' Poor Mrs. Scott kept squeezing my arm with all her strength asking me, 'Please show me. Let me see too! Tell me what you see.' She was crying and totally moved by what I was experiencing. I had no doubt that she questioned that what I was witnessing was truth and not simply a childish prank. And then I experienced a strange, almost magnetic energy between she and I. It was as if we were in a bubble, or time warp, together. I think that whatever energy was emanating from the spirit manifestation encompassed Mrs. Scott and I both into it. The only difference was that I could see and feel it whereas Mrs. Scott could only feel it. Yet she knew there was something supernatural happening around her. Anyway, she kept pleading with me to tell her what I was seeing, but other than describing the apparitions there was so little in words that I could say."

Dr: "Because the communication between you and Joanie came from within you as you have described?"

WW: "Yes. Anyone who has ever seen a spirit knows that communication between the spirit and the human being takes place within the human. The spirit's voice, although crystal clear and distinctly its own, is heard from within the being of the human. But the spirit's communication goes far beyond the mere words that it is speaking. There are thought communications, too -  dozens and dozens of them that the human is given. It's rather like reading an entire book in less than a second. It isn't symbols that are given. It's facts and absolute knowingness. It's an exhilarating knowingness that is impossible to describe to those who have not experienced it, for it defies what we in the body know as natural law. One just becomes encompassed in this knowingness that the spirit communicates to the human body."

Dr: "I understand exactly what you are trying to relate and you do it beautifully considering how difficult I know it is to put something into words which there are no words for. But, can you possibly describe what was being communicated to you?"

WW: "Oh, so many things. So many of them had nothing to do with seeing her joy regarding the Palomino. Like·I knew the spirit of the thin lady standing beside the horse was Joanie's grandmother from the mother's side. I knew, too, that she was very kind and proud and that her name was also Elsie, the same as Joanie's mother. I knew she was from England, too, and that she had died long, long ago and that she was happy to be together with her granddaughter Joanie. I don't know how I knew that. I was not told that. She did not speak to me. I just knew, or sensed, of felt that coming from her. I also knew that Joanie did not feel separated or parted from me. I knew she did not feel that she had ever left me, or the earth, as she knew it. She was just 'here' and 'there' all at the same time and it was all the same space to her. She was joyous! Joyous is the only proper word to describe her state of happiness. She acted just as she would have were it Christmas morning and she awoke to find herself given the gift of a Palomino horse, which was, of course, her greatest dream. There was reality to her gleefulness. She did not appear to be ghostly or other worldly at all. Only the horse and the lady beside her did. It is almost impossible to describe the emotional interaction between a spirit and a human in contact with one. There is a oneness of sharing thought and emotion. The emotional connection says more than the eyes or the inner ear hears. Joanie and I were encompassed in love, separate from other things and people or the environment around us. We were sharing something personal together, but that 'something' is indescribable. This encounter was only between us two. She had chosen me to share with, for she knew only I could understand her joy. A thousand messages, a thousand feelings, came instantaneously. It all happens inside. There are no words to describe it except maybe to say it is pure unconditional love and acceptance, as one has never felt it in human form. It is an intermingling of love. No, not even that is right. I'm sorry. I cannot explain it."

Dr: "I think you have explained it as best it can be explained. Considering the difficulty in explaining out of the ordinary experiences I think you have done an exceptional job."

WW: "At the same time I was experiencing this wondrous unearthly experience with Joanie, my humanness was also psychically communicating with Mrs. Scott who was kneeling beside me. I could sense her desperation."

Dr: "Desperation?"

WW: "Yes, desperation. I had never known anything about her personal life before this psychic happening occurred, but somehow, out of nowhere, I sensed her desperation to have confirmed her hope that there was an afterlife. She kept pleading with me, 'Tell me what you see, dear. Please tell me what you see.' Her eyes were fixed upon the area before us to which I had pointed. I could see her peering desperately trying to see the vision I was seeing. She was my friend and I was relieved that she believed me. It was obvious she had no doubts that I was experiencing a supernatural visitation. I now somehow realized that I was the tool to confirming that belief·or her wanting to believe. I became overwhelmed by the grief I felt inside her. I seemed to be drawn into the energy of Mrs. Scott by a feeling of sympathy. I felt her loneliness. I felt her grief and became aware of several of her losses. Images, faces, a collage of unusual pictures swept through my mind's eye. I knew that these bizarre abstractions that I was seeing belonged to, and were meant for, her. I sensed that she had lost her husband several years before. Was his name Charles? Something told me that it was. And then I saw a face, a chubby sweet and kind face of a middle-aged man with white hair. 'I'm here, Sweetheart,' he said to me. Yet I knew the words he had spoken were meant for her. I smelled the aroma of fresh baking bread. Did Charles bake bread? 'Mrs. Scott, was your husband named Charles? Was he a baker? Did he bake bread?' I asked. My question startled her. She began to whimper and I could barely hear her say, 'Yes.'   I sensed she still grieved for her deceased parents. Theodore? Beatrice? Names came into my head and pictures of faces I had never seen before darted through my mind. I didn't know why or where they came from. I knew that what was happening to me now was not coming from Joanie or the images out there in the field. It was not a part of that. It was something for Mrs. Scott and separate from the other happening. I sensed this. I knew this. It was a series of psychic impressions that were meant for Mrs. Scott and had no significance whatsoever for me."

Dr: "It sounds to me as if you were experiencing the phenomena of Mediumship, the ability to see and communicate with the spirits of the deceased? Obviously, this is what was happening between you and your friend Joanie, but it sounds as if you were picking up psychic impressions regarding Mrs. Scott as well? "

WW: "Yes, I was. Of course, I did not know that then. I would have had no idea what Mediumship was. I remember being really confused and somewhat frightened by that incident at that time. What I was suddenly experiencing was far more surreal and confusing then my communication with Joanie· strange unfamiliar faces floating towards me·voices which sounded like they came from miles and miles away and impressions and thought messages which seemed to come from out of nowhere."

Dr: "Impressions? Can you describe these impressions?"

WW: "Yes. One of the faces I saw was of a young lady. She wasn't what one would call pretty. She was rather plain in appearance, but seemed very sweet·very kind. I sensed she had died·maybe 14 months ago·leukemia? What's leukemia? Somehow I knew she was Mrs. Scott's daughter. I just knew. I don't know how, but I did. 'Was Mrs. Scott's your mama?' I asked her from with inside myself. 'What's your name?' She replied back to me·inside of me·'Mary'. 'Is Mrs. Scott your mom?" I asked back, from inside. 'Yes, my mom. I love her. I'm with her. Tell her I'm with her.' She had a kind, almost musical voice, which felt warm and lovely as she spoke distinctly from outside of me yet inside of me, too. I did as she said. 'Mrs. Scott? A lady named Mary told me to tell you that she loves you and that she is with you.' Poor Mrs. Scott let out a gasp, which really frightened me. I will never forget the anguished look on her face. 'Is Mary your little girl, Mrs. Scott?' I asked. The poor soul didn't speak. She just nodded her head 'yes' and began crying. 'I think her last name is Leukemia?' I continued. I had no knowledge that leukemia was a disease, so I just presented to her the information I was receiving. 'Is that Mary's last name, Mrs. Scott?' I asked. She didn't answer me. She just continued to cry, which made me feel terribly bad. Other people love you too, Mrs. Scott. I went on. 'Somebody named Theodore really loves you a lot. Was he your daddy? He tells me that he was and that he loves you. There's a lady named Beatrice here with him. Is she your mom, Mrs. Scott? She said that she is and loves you too, and that she watches over you all the time. She wishes that you wouldn't worry so much. Theodore said that after they moved from Nova Scotia they bought a grocery store in Chicago. Is that right? Did they Mrs. Scott?' I was desperate for her to answer me, but she didn't. I remember being very confused as to why she was so upset. I was fearful that I had hurt and upset here, and that perhaps I had done something terribly wrong. She just knelt there on the ground, crying uncontrollably as she repeatedly blessed herself making the Sign of The Cross as Catholic people do."

Dr: "Did you actually see the figures of her family members standing before you?"

WW: "No, I just saw their faces. I don't know how I knew who they were. Somehow they told me. It was impressions I guess? I had no idea why this was happening to me at the time. I just felt compelled to tell Mrs. Scott what I felt and was told by Mary and the others to tell. I don't recall how long my spirit visitation lasted. It was just a matter of a few minutes at most. Yet, I had experienced so much from those moments that it appeared to last much, much longer. The vision of Joanie and the Palomino, which I had witnessed, had been like watching a movie. The images would flicker, and then brighten, then dim. Suddenly the images disappeared. They didn't dim and fade away. It was more like a strip of movie film broke and everything before me was just no longer there. Mrs. Scott and I just remained there in the windstorm staring into the empty field, me waiting to see if the images would return, and she crying as if her heart would break.

"It is hard to say what I learned from this experience. I already knew there was life after death. That had been proven to me the day I saw the spirit of my great-grandfather. I think what was of most value was that for one wondrous moment or two I was the channel which confirmed the truth that there is an afterlife to dear Mrs. Scott. From what Mom later told me, Mrs. Scott had said to her that this incident was one of the most wonderful moments in her life. Regarding my visit with Joanie· I suppose that it was just a conformation that Joanie loved me but didn't want me to miss or grieve for her anymore. From what I had experienced I knew that she was far happier in this realm where her spirit now lived·far happier than I was in mine. I didn't hurt as much about having lost her after that. Yet, I felt sorry for myself because I knew she no longer really missed or needed me. I knew she was beyond looking back and that I would just have to go forward without her. I love and miss her to this day, but am so grateful that she was there for me during a very difficult period of my life.

"Matters became worse for me after that. Word got around school that 'Crazy Wally' had wet his pants because spooks talked to him. etc.  Because my classmates knew of my having seen the spirits of both Eugene and Joanie, whatever hopes I may have had of being considered just plain, normal and ordinary banished. Kids would taunt me by asking, 'Hey, Pee Wee, did you ride your Golden Palomino to school this morning?' or 'Hey, Spooker, what's Joanie and Eugene had to say lately?' It was a very hard time for me. Of course there were also those who treated me kindly. The trouble was they treated me 'too kindly'! They separated me from themselves by treating me too specially. The regarded me as an oddity, someone who was special and awesomely extraordinary. They would speak to me in almost reverent tones, which of course made me feel isolated from them and very uncomfortable. I think perhaps that it was somewhat easier to be amongst those who regarded me with cautiousness and suspicion. Nothing has changed. It's still that way today."

Dr: "Yes, there is always pain and scrutiny to those who are considered different. As your old friend Kermit the Frog so wisely said, 'It's not easy being green.'"

WW: (Laugh) "No, it certainly isn't. But there are also advantages to being 'different'. You learn to acquire the strength and courage to be the 'true you' that you are. You learn to be the best that you can be by jumping the hurdles. I think I have learned the lessons and graduated the course. I'm comfortable with my role today. Besides the scrutiny I underwent back at that time didn't last all that long. Unbeknownst to me our lives would soon take a dramatic change and I would be leaving all that behind me. Mom and I were about to begin a new journey we never imagined nor dreamed could have happened."

Dr: " Before we move foreword I must ask·how did Julie react to your visitation with Joanie when you shared your experience with her?"

WW: "As I recall, she listened in silence. She asked me to repeat what I had seen and heard several times. After I had finished she smiled at me, gave me a big kiss and then whispered in my ear, 'I told you Joanie would be tending to the horses!'"

Dr: "Damn you!"

WW: "What? What have I done?"

Dr: (wiping her eyes) You've made me cry! You make my heart feel like a big soggy balloon that is filled with warm water!"

Joanie and Walden, 1952

End of Part Eight

Next Episode:

The 1955 White Cadillac El Dorado 'Get-Away' Car

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