One of the great pleasures in the calling I have received to help throngs of spirits to cross over, is the understanding there must be a highly organized effort on the other side that employs many angels and other spirits. It has been explained to me that this is largely a family effort. At one time I was told there were 18 family members working on the other side, gathering spirits on this plane and helping them cross over. My mother and my father oversee a lot of this effort, as well as providing me guidance in my life. My brothers Bob, Eugene and Jim have been with me since the beginning. But besides my own family there are others intimately involved. I have come to understand Don Borrego, one of the three spirits originally protecting me at the haunted house and a family friend, is a very special spirit with a powerful healing ability. One of the questions I routinely ask the spirits in my recording session before any crossing, is who brought them to that site or told them where to find me. At first, the answers were always my mother, my father or one of my brothers. Then I began to hear the name Don Borrego. After Stella's uncle Roger passed away, I began hearing his name, as well.
At one 4;30 recording session with my guides, I received the following message, “Justin, in about an hour, will be injured in a motorcycle crash in Orlando and will be killed. He will want to stay here with you and work with you. And we will guide him and help him until he is ready to cross through you. We are telling you because we want you to know he will be around you and will contact you. And he will ask you to give Melisa a message. We want him to stay here with you. We will work with him and he will work with you. He will assist your brothers and you.” As was my routine, I did not transcribe the recording session until later in the evening, after the event in Orlando had already occurred. I was stunned. Justin was the fiancee of Stella's cousin Melisa who lived in Orlando with her father Beto (Stella's uncle), her mother Mary and her brother David. I never knew Justin well because we only saw him during family gatherings, but I was fond of the young man. He was only 22 when he was killed. In spirit, Justin did visit me the next day during my 4:30 session and left the promised message for Melissa.
Three weeks or so after Justin's death, I visited the Oscar Scherer State Park in nearby Osprey, Florida for a crossing. The park is one of the last bulwarks of the threatened Florida Scrub Jay, a curious, friendly and beautiful bird that would often hang around my crossing events. I followed the Red Trail that is cut between flat plains of palmetto bushes, sparsely dotted with pine trees. With no shade and no clouds, the sun was brutal. But I noticed a magnificent bald eagle shadowing me, soaring between the tallest pine trees as I hiked. At the western edge of the park, at the far end of the palmetto barrens, there was a dense jungle of oak and palm trees. It had been my intention to disappear under the jungle canopy for the crossing, away from the sun. But I felt the eagle had a purpose for following me and I didn’t want to discourage it. I stopped at a bench along the edge of the trail to do the crossing, next to the jungle but still exposed. The bald eagle settled on one of the top branches of a nearby pine tree and calmly watched. The eagle flew away when I was finished with the crossing. I had a notion about the eagle, so I got out my iPod and asked. “Was there a significance to the bald eagle that was here?”
“It was Justin,” my father confirmed.
“Why did he come as an eagle?”
“That’s what he wanted.”
“Oh. Good for him.”
“He has much to learn,” my father concluded. (continued below...)
I worked hard to never take any crossing event for granted and to treat each one as special. After all, each spirit is unique and important and deserved all my attention. But because I was doing this basically everyday at this point, the individual events inevitably began to run together in my mind. This one crossing stands out only because it was third consecutive event in which I had helped more than 20,000 spirits cross over. On the hike back to the car, I got out my iPod and asked my father about it. "So I guess 20,000 spirits is not my limit."
"It is not," he confirmed.
"What is my limit?"
"We're not sure. You've exceeded all our expectations."
I returned to the Deer Prairie Creek Preserve for another crossing. I had already returned to the abandoned barn once and had an extremely close encounter with a demon there. So I had no intention of stopping at the barn, but I still had to pass by the structure on the way to the area where I intended to do the crossing. As I passed by the barn, a single crow that had been resting on the roof, took flight with a frenzied cawing. It circled overhead, screeching at me with everything it had. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language,” I said to the crow, flippantly. A hundred yards further up the trail, a second crow joined it, and the din increased exponentially. And as I walked on, more crows joined in. They all flew ahead of me, screaming their heads off. The noise was ear-piercing. It was like a hundred ambulances and fire engines passing by at the same time with sirens wailing. I was reminded of the attack on the school children from the movie The Birds. I hoped these crows didn’t have anything sinister planned, other than vigorously protesting my presence in the preserve.
As I drew close to where I had thought I would do the crossing, the crows kept up their un-holy screeching. I knew I would not be able to perform the crossing ceremony with such a constant racket. “Quiet!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. And that was all it took. The crows immediately stopped their cawing. They kept flying around me for a few minutes longer, then quietly dispersed. I went on to help 73,601 spirits find their way across the light bridge. As I was hiking back to my car, I saw all the crows had gathered in an oak tree near the barn. As I walked closer they started their protestations again, although with nowhere near the same intensity as before. They flapped their wings and screeched at me but stayed in the tree. As I crossed in front of the tree, I snapped my fingers and pointed at them. I didn’t say anything but the gesture was enough to silence them and stop all the activity. I got out my iPod and asked my father what was going on with all the crows. “The crows were possessed,” he answered.
“Possessed? By whom?”
“The nineteen spirits that remained.”
When I had done the original crossing at the barn, nineteen of the original seventy-five spirits had chosen not to cross. When I returned for the second crossing and had the encounter with the demon, 772 spirits had crossed but twenty-two remained. I had understood at the time that, among those twenty-two, was the original nineteen. I had been unable to convince them the second time, either. “Are they going to stay in the crows?” I asked.
“No, they have departed. You showed you have dominion.”
Snapping my fingers and pointing had never had such an effect before. I tried it all the time with our puppy Sura when she was barking and she always ignored me. I guess it proved an evil spirit did not possess her. “Is there anything I can do for those nineteen spirits?” “No. You should stay away now.”
I never returned to the Deer Prairie Creek Preserve, which was sad because it was one of my favorite places to hike. (continued below...)
It was the 75th crossing event when I finally eclipsed one million spirits total crossed over. Although I knew I was surpassing a million, I didn't give it much thought. After all, it was barely a dent in the number of 600 million I had been given. But when I put on my iPod after the event, I was greeted with what sounded like a party through the white noise. I heard multiple voices offering congratulations. I still didn't assign much significance to the number, but I was happy to see that even on the other side they give importance to arbitrary milestones. It somehow made me feel closer to those helping from beyond.