This book is the result of two year’s intensive study of physical mediumship, both past and present; of the ‘dead’ physically returning, of ‘spirit doctors’ curing “incurable” patients, of interviewing numerous mediums, and of joining a development circle in order to become a medium myself. To say it’s been a wild ride would be an understatement. I’ve stepped into a mysterious, compelling, addictive and utterly mind-blowing arena, where I’ve seen things I never thought possible; where I’ve communicated directly with family in the afterlife, had spirits take over my body, and felt the physical touch of spirits. I’ve heard and seen ‘dead’ people, been operated on by a “spirit doctor”, and I’ve been poked, prodded and tickled by spirit children. Of course, unless it’s personally seen, felt, and experienced, this is all understandably very hard to believe, and I’m as sceptical as the next person; perhaps even more so. I’d encourage the reader to venture into their own exploration to discover this proof, that no matter how much it defies our logical, rational mind, these things can and really do happen, as I’ve discovered for myself; that the dead don’t really die: they’re still around us, all the time.
Physical mediumship may be going on across the land in small closed home circles, but they usually remain private and do not get known about these days, while in years gone-by, thousands of people would get to experience these things. With the invention of television and its multitude of channels to watch, with the internet, gaming, mobile phones; everyone is spoiled for choice when it comes to evening entertainment. In the old days, there were no televisions, no mobile phones, no internet, and often very little money too. Spiritualism was readily and enthusiastically experimented with in the comfort of people’s own homes, often for such entertainment purposes, but also because after the two World Wars, there were so many families in mourning and desperate to be reunited with their dead sons and husbands, fathers and grandfathers. Just like a family might have gathered together and played a game of cards or parlour games; many families were creating Ouija boards or attempting table-tipping, or simply sitting in the dark and waiting in hope, endeavouring to receive some kind of communication from their dead; or they would hear about a séance from neighbours or friends, and many would go to a local Spiritualist Church. These days, Spiritualist Churches still exist, though they’re far from packed nowadays, and it’s harder to find a local development circle, for most of them simply don’t exist anymore, or don’t advertise for members and are known only by word of mouth. It’s certainly no longer a past-time of families across the land anymore. At the turn of the 20th Century, the medium John Campbell Sloan would hold open seances at his house in Scotland, where he would demonstrate direct voice phenomena; where voices would be heard in the room, but they were not coming from Sloan himself. The medium Alec Harris would produce spirit materialisations – where “dead” people literally walked around the seance room and shook hands with the guests and held conversations with them. Investigators like Edward Brackett and Colonel Henry Steel Olcott would weigh materialised spirits on weighing scales, and surgeons who had died would come back to operate on patients through the hands of mediums like Isa Northage, Jessie Thomas, Tom Pilgrim, or William Lilley who carried out ‘spirit operations’ in front of crowds of witnesses, who would testify before a court to the truth of what they had seen; and there would be x-rays and hospital records to prove it. The medium Harry Edwards would hold public demonstrations, to a packed Royal Albert Hall in London with thousands watching him carry out a live healing or give highly accurate evidential messages. Steven Upton, former tutor at the Arthur Findlay College of Spiritualism and psychic sciences tells me that when Edwards was alive, he received literally millions of letters from around the world, asking for healing from the spirits; such was his success rate. Modern demonstrations of mediumship very rarely include physical mediumship or healings now; yet Edwards would receive a ‘veritable Niagara of testimony,’ from people who had been healed by the spirits who worked through him. Yes, there were charlatans too, as there are in every profession and every walk of life; but medical records and x-rays showing tumours have disappeared cannot be argued with. Today, I’ve found some more mediums who can still perform these “miracles.”
The purpose of this book is to shine a light on some of these compelling accounts, of spirits healing “incurable” people, of the “dead” physically returning to speak with and embrace their loved ones, and to show you just how close to us the spirit world really is; if only you would dare to discover….
As I drove through the densely tree-lined country lanes in the heart of the Surrey countryside, and pulled up at a remote house, nestled among a forest of the tallest trees, I wondered what I had got myself into. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. No-one would know where I was if I didn’t come back. I sat pondering this in my car as the front door opened and the loveliest lady came towards me, greeting me and welcoming me inside. Too late to back out now, I thought. I’d come for “psychic surgery.” I was seriously ill and I’d come for spirits to operate on me – like real doctors in hospitals. At the same time, I felt utterly ridiculous. That’s why I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. How could I? How was I supposed to explain that? It sounded too silly for words; and, of course I didn’t believe in it. I’d thought to myself, “Well, this will be a good experience for my research; after all, how can you write about such things, if you don’t experience them first hand?” But I believed it was a complete waste of time too. I mean, who would believe in any of this, realistically? I began to feel rather irritated with myself, and wished I’d decided to spend my time doing something more useful or enjoyable. I was already calculating in my head how long it would take me to drive back home, and which route I’d take. But I’d booked an appointment, and for the sake of a couple of hours, I’d better go through with it now, I reasoned. I just wouldn’t tell anyone I had. All these thoughts were running through my head as I stepped through the front door and into the most beautiful old country house, and instantly I felt the most peaceful atmosphere imaginable. Perhaps I was imagining it, but immediately, I felt at ease, and soon we were joined by the husband; the clairvoyant through which the spirits were going to “operate” on me.
The sense of my own ridiculousness persisted, but at least I was meeting the most charming and charismatic couple, who could not have been more welcoming. They’d been clairvoyants and spiritual healers for many decades, and we chatted for quite a while. In fact, the conversation turned to my scepticism of many of the mediums and healers from the past to the present, and their scandalous trickery and outright fraud. Surprisingly, they agreed with me several times and mentioned their own rather disappointing experiences over the years too. Like any profession and in any walk of life, there are some mediums in the past, and still today, who profit by pretending to be able to contact the lost loved ones of grieving people, or trick people at seances into believing a spirit is walking about in the room; but there are many more genuine mediums too, as we will discover in this book. Well, after an hour or so of chatting, sitting in their living room which was full of old books and ancient artefacts, I was asked to hop onto a treatment bed for the healing session to begin.
Lying there in the semi-darkness, with a couple of small lights on, I closed my eyes and the couple got to work. I quite hoped it would be over with quickly. Soft music played in the background and I lay there thinking, “Well, this is not going to do any good at all.” I felt stupid, and found myself thinking about the work I needed to do when I got back home, the list increasing as I continued to ruminate. I thought about the rest of my week too, and went through my diary in my mind, for the sake of doing something, rather than simply lying there and doing nothing. I found it very difficult to just relax and lay there. About twenty minutes later, I suddenly felt the sharpest sensations inside my body, as if a scalpel was being used on me! It hurt – not excruciatingly, but it was very uncomfortable and I wanted it to stop, but I was also intrigued. I opened my eyes a fraction – surely, they weren’t actually operating on me! I saw both healers standing on either side of me, and I could clearly see their hands. Neither of them were touching that part of my body; they were no-where near it, and they were not holding any scalpels either! What I did see was a hand and an arm – exactly like you might see on an x-ray image. I could clearly see white, bony, long tapered fingers and a bony arm, hovering right over the part of my body where it was hurting. I closed my eyes thinking I had gone entirely mad; that I had to be imagining it, but when I opened my eyes again, I could still see the arm and fingers. I know, or at least, I believe, that there are other “psychic surgeons” out there who are simply charlatans, who probably simply use sleight of hand, or the power of suggestion; but that was not the case here. I couldn’t have been more sceptical when I’d walked into their house, and as I’d lain there, feeling entirely ridiculous; and yet I did not imagine this pain and discomfort, and gripping, scrapping sensations inside of me. They were too real. Of course, just about every rational person will dismiss this account, quite understandably, but I know what I saw and I know what I felt, and I can’t change that. Make of it what you will, but I can’t dismiss it because it felt so physical, and, I’m not in the habit of seeing x-ray arms and hands, and those bony fingers – but that’s what I saw, take it or leave it! I’ve questioned myself regularly since, of course, but what I can’t forget are those sharp, gripping, scrapping, cutting sensations inside my body. It wasn’t on the surface of my body – it was very deep inside me; and it felt like claws or fingernails, or a scalpel.
Prior to this, I’d been to other spiritual healers before, including visiting the Harry Edwards Healing Sanctuary in Shere. I’d never felt anything, nor seen anything. That isn’t to say that no healing took place; it’s just that, apparently unlike most other patients, I never could feel anything happening, and this was also why I’d had no expectations before I went to this couple’s house in the heart of the countryside. Over time, as I’ve got to know the couple in the countryside very well and become great friends with them, the husband who carried out my “psychic surgery” told me that it all began for him when he was working as an executive. He would regularly receive phone calls from a lady client, whose manner was particularly brusque and rather rude. After months of putting up with her phone calls, one day he finally snapped and answered her back; to which she replied, “Ah, I see, you’re one of us!” He had no idea what she meant, but he found himself being invited to go to a suburban house where a psychic development circle met each week. Before long, he found himself developing the ability to communicate with the dead. One night, not long after he’d joined, he was given the message to go to a community centre in South London, where once a week a healing clinic took place. When he arrived there, the healer in charge told him to simply observe the proceedings, but shortly afterwards, the healer changed his mind and asked why he was just standing there! Rather swiftly, the husband found himself treating patients too, but with no idea how to do it or what to do, other than to rest his hands on their backs! That same day, the healer suddenly announced he had decided to retire and that he had appointed the husband to take over, with immediate effect! It was not long after this that the husband began to give healing to a man who had come to the community centre with a bad leg. The man was limping badly and barely mobile. As the husband placed his hands on the man’s back, little knowing what else to do, he suddenly heard a voice in his head, talking to him, telling him to cut the man’s leg open! He thought he had to be imagining it, or was simply losing his mind, but the voice kept on urging him to do it, telling him, “Pick up the scalpel!” He could see a scalpel now too, clairvoyantly, and he couldn’t stop thinking he was going completely mad, but the voice was so persistent; it wouldn’t stop demanding that he cut the man open, and so eventually, he found himself grasping the invisible scalpel in his hand and making cutting gestures along the man’s leg. “Open him up!” the voice kept saying, and so he did. Not literally cutting the man’s leg, but making the gestures with his hand as the voice continued telling him what to do next, so that in the end, he was performing an operation as expertly as a surgeon in a hospital operating theatre, even sewing the man’s leg back up with stitches when he was finished, yet all the while thinking he was going insane! Meanwhile, the man sat patiently, showing no signs of distress, no agony, and really being none the wiser about what was going on, and when it was finished, the man calmly got up and left. The following week, the man returned to say that when he’d got back home, his wife had been rather surprised to see him jump over the garden gate rather than hobble through it as he usually did! His leg was completely cured, he declared…