My At the time of this extraordinary event, son, Sam was just under two years of age. It was a Saturday afternoon at the beginning of the autumn months, and unusually cold for that time of the season.
Because the night before was “festive,” drinking heavily with clients and workmates, an afternoon nap was essential. In a panic state, my then-wife rudely woke me out of a much-needed slumber.
“Sam is being taunted by the ghost!”
Some background information is needed here to grasp the unexplained uncleanliness of the event.
For many reasons, my wife and I had been separated for approximately nine months, really not relevant to this narrative. We decided to try again and rented a house in Brighton and KNEW, the house was haunted. We saw the same apparition of a woman sitting by the bedroom French windows on separate viewings of the house. Considering my extensive past with the paranormal, I should have known better but decided to rent the old house despite the warning.
As I stood up from the couch, Sam literally jumped into my arms. He pointed to the hall next to his bedroom, uttering, “Bad, bad… girl.” My son was looking at something invisible to my wife and me but was there in his eyes just the same.
I said, “Tell her to go in the name of God! Tell her to go away!”
Sam then said, “Grandpa, grandpa…” pointing in the direction of my study. We got to the study, and he grabbed my grandfather’s rosary beads from the wooden cross that stood in the middle of my desk. We returned from my study to the hall, and he shook the rosary beads, his hand extended, saying, “Go, go, go…” In seconds, I felt Sam relax in my arms – the “spirit” that was taunting him had gone.
At the age of 18 months, Sam knew nothing of my grandfather, who, by the way, was a very religious man and had died in 1964. How? There is no rational explanation, but my son knew how to rid himself of the uninvited guest.
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