CROSSING #11, JUNE 8, 2013


Although dealing with demons is something I eventually learned I have been called to endure, the most frightening early encounter occurred upon my return to the abandoned barn in Deer Prairie Creek Preserve. I was reluctant to return to the barn because the spirits that remained had informed me that I was not welcomed back. But I thought there might still be spirits that wanted another opportunity to cross. My guides said it was up to me, so I told then I was going back. And, of course, they set about gathering many more spirts there for me to help. On my way, I hiked past a small ruin of a horse corral on the opposite side of the trail from the barn. As I passed, a loud, frightening scream erupted from the trees behind the corral. The scream was much louder and scarier than the other demons I had heard. But I did not falter and continued to the barn. A true demon is not a ghost. A demon has never been alive in the flesh. It is a natural earth spirit that developed for a specific purpose: to collect excess negative energy.



If it weren't for the negative energy generated by humans, demons would not exist at all. I did not see the demon and did not notice that it followed me to the barn. I did take photos as I approached the barn, though. Even normal cameras can capture a wider spectrum of light than we can see with our own eyes, much as a recorder can capture frequencies we cannot hear with just our ears. In this case I captured an image of the demon in its natural state. A demon can actually appear in any form and can sense the images most frightening to us. But it takes a lot of energy for a demon to transform. The form easiest for it to maintain is an invisible dark, amorphous blob with shining eyes. The images above show the demon in this state. Although I was on edge because of the screams I heard earlier, I did not sense anything amiss at the barn. I started my normal presentation to the spirits but I didn't get very far.  The demon let loose a roar that sounded like it came from right behind me. I swung around, poised for an attack, but there was nothing for me to see.



Another scream erupted from thin air, a couple of feet further away. I held my ground as the screams steadily retreated out into the Florida swamp. I went on to help to cross all but 22 of the 794 spirits gathered. I thought I was done with the demon, but as I was hiking away and crossing a small bridge over a creek, I saw something small and nearly invisible dart out toward me. I jumped out of the way and thought I had avoided the demon, but I soon began to experience extreme fatigue and pounding palpitations in my chest. I was able to make it home but was knocked of my feet for several days. When I was able, I asked my guides why they had not been able to protect me from the demon. They told me that they knew the demon was not strong enough to cause me any real harm. It was not allowed to interfere with the crossing event, but when it attacked me afterward, it became trapped in my aura. My aura is very strong and through being trapped the demon was cleansed and its negative energy stripped away. A video recording of the demon's screams follows next. (Continued Below)

Demon screams at an abandoned barn in the Deer Prairie Creek Preserve, Venice, FL

CROSSING #16, JUNE 21, 2013


With very few exceptions, my guides brought me along slowly and added a few dozen or so spirits to each crossing I performed. It was later in June when I reached more than 1000 spirits crossed in a single event. That happened in a meadow off the Red Trail in the Carlton Reserve. Along my hike I was roused by a commotion off in the woods. It was the sound of knocking, like someone was pounding on a tree trunk with a large branch. It was loud and not far from the trail. I stopped and listened. I could also hear the sound of the leaves rustling as branches were shaken. There was a sharp crack as a branch snapped apart. I was in a shaded spot where the trail was lined with tall pines and palm trees. But through the branches of the pines I could see an oak meadow adjacent to the trail, and the sounds seemed to be emanating from one of the large oaks. I didn’t hear any voices and knew it was unlikely there were any other people in the area.  It was extremely rare for me to encounter another person on one of my hikes.  But whatever was making such a large ruckus had to be a large and powerful beast.  



The first likely culprit that entered my mind was one or more wild pig.  Some of the boars could weigh several hundred pounds and were known to be aggressive.  But as quickly as I considered pigs, I rejected the idea.  The sharp knocking was clearly coming from a location higher than my head.  Whatever was banging wood against wood and violently shaking branches was either taller than I or up in the tree. I instinctively left the trail and started toward the commotion to investigate. I did feel all the activity was probably directed toward me as some kind of a threat, and was maybe a little concerned about that.  But I was more curious than afraid.  So off I went. I had to slowly pick my way through a thicket of palmetto bushes. I paused momentarily when I remembered that banging a branch against a tree was a common action attributed to Big Foot.  And Big Foot sightings are actually fairly common in Florida.  But then I reminded myself that I don’t really even believe that Big Foot exists.  Still, I removed my camera from its pouch, just in case.  And I told myself to be alert for the strong, pungent smell said to be emitted by the Florida Swamp Ape, the name given to local Big Foot legend. 



Finally, I cleared the palmettos and arrived at the oak meadow. I could see the branches of the tree heave up and down, as if they were caught in a tornado, but I could not see whatever was causing the activity in the tree. Then, before I even arrived at the tree, it stopped.  I froze and listened, expecting to hear a large animal scamper away.  But there was nothing, not a sound.  The cicadas had stopped their constant drone.  All the birds in the vicinity had gone still or flown off to a safe distance.  It was silent.  The only noise was the far off buzz of a small airplane. I arrived at the tree and circled around it, looking for footprints in the soil beneath, or at least an area disturbed by activity. I could not find a log or branch that could have been used to produce the loud knocking noises. I could see freshly snapped branches hanging limply overhead, but there was no animal up in the tree, not even a squirrel or a bird. I later asked my guides about the disturbance and was told it was an angry spirit. Apparently, the ghost wanted to help me cross other earthbound spirits, and became enraged when it was told it was unworthy and would need to cross itself before being considered. (continued below...)

CROSSING #17, JUNE 22, 2013


The next day I headed to the Jelks Preserve for a crossing event. It is a narrow band of wilderness along the Myakka River, just outside of Venice, Florida. During my hikes at that location, I often encountered wild pigs and alligators, along with a bevy of other wildlife. 

At all my crossing events I had been in the habit of interviewing spirits both before and after.  At the conclusion of an event, when asking the spirits why they had chosen not to cross, one of the most common answers I received was that they did not trust me.



So I began to work hard at humbling myself before the spirits, the whole exercise was about them, after all, not about me. I also exhorted the spirits to put their trust in the angels and other spirits present there to assist them. I am just the earthly vessel and they should not put their trust in me. 

Having recently surpassed the number of a thousand spirits at a time, I began to wonder about how many earthbound spirits would I be able to cross at once. The answer from my guides was, "We think about 5,000."



So that led directly to my next question. "How many spirits are there sharing the physical plane with us?" But they didn't actually answer that question. What they told me was that they wanted me to be responsible for 600 million spirits. I knew I wasn't alone in this endeavor, but I did the math. If I helped cross 5,000 spirits a day for, say 300 days a year, then to cross 600 would take me 400 years! I hoped that at some point I would have help.

After the event, one of the questions I had asked was, "Did you see the light?" You can hear the spirit's reply in the video recording that follows next.

Continue to the Next Crossing Event

"Did you see the light?" I asked.