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Stories / Experiences

Visitor from Sheridan, MI
Kirby Johnson says...

My husband was killed on August 15, 2007 by a semi truck. We had been married for 24 years and together for 27 years. As couples do from time to time, they fight, well we had a big blow out and he walked away. This happened around July 8, 2007; He intended to go south to see his father who was not doing well. I went to work on August 13th, this was a Monday and I work 2nd shift. As I worked I felt shaken, confused and unfocused. By the end of the night I told my foreman I had to take a couple of vacation days. Tuesday, the 14th, I tried to shake this feeling of doom but it just wouldnít go away. I always go to bed about 12:00, because of working 2nd shift, I am used to this time. This night I had to take something to sleep because my mind wouldnít shut off.

At 5:30 in the morning I hear a bang at the door, two officers asked for my daughter. I thought "Why do you need her?", but I got her. The officer asked her to sit, and told her Ray had been hit by a semi at 12:05. I hit the floor. The officer said "Who are you?", my daughter said "Sheís his wife". It was such a blur from that point on for about a month. I can remember trying to take him out of the morgue and being put on medication just to make it though the funeral. After coming out of the thick fog, I remembered my thoughts and feelings on the 13th and 14th. I have done this in the past, for some reason I know things. I have even told people how long it would be before they died, and I was usually mad and yelling when I said it. I wish that I could control or understand this sensitivity; this is the only word I can use to describe this. I am not claiming to be special at all, and I donít know how it works but I wish I came with instructions. Even after 2 years I still feel guilty for the fight we had and not saving him, and most of all, not telling him I loved him and still do.

When I finally got back to work, I would cry on the way home and talk to him. One night I walked through the door and sat at the table and screamed "I canít take this anymore. Every night you are standing over me. I can feel your sadness and you need to move on!". This is the short version of me yelling and crying at the top of my lungs. After I did it I wanted to take it back, I wanted him back. I prayed for him to come back to me, someway, somehow. About 7 months later, Ray's dog was in the back yard barking and going nuts about something in the shed. I thought it might have been somebody, and without a yard light I grabbed the camera and snapped about 9 pictures. I didnít see anything in the shed at the time and I had to make the dog, Dawg (that is what Ray named him), come in. Well I put the pictures on my computer and the last one had a ghostly figure. I sent it to both my girls and I asked "Am I nuts or do I see your dad?". They both reported back saying "Yep, thatís him.". So then I tried to get an EVP and all I got was crickets. I tried about 7 times still nothing.

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