Midnight.Sapphires
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Jere's memories
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Midnight.Sapphires
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Jere - My life as Wah-Tse-Gee
In a prior life, I was a young boy during the Sand Creek Massacre (about 11.5 - 12 years old) and the memories are a bit hazy. However, I do remember the Washita massacre very clearly.
There is another person on this forum who posts under "Argenteluna" and she was at Washita at the same time I was there, however, she was on the other side - meaning, she was with the U.S. Cavalry, but as a Medic, not a soldier. It was by chance that we found each other on this site and by an even stranger coincidence, I had a vision of seeing her (or, rather, the man she had been in that prior life), on that day in 1868.
We both "remembered" seeing a young Native woman, just a young teenager, get shot "point blank". The force of the impact spun her around, at which point she fell down dead. Only, Eileen, as Dael, saw more of what happened to her than I did, as a Native fleeing the massacre.
While reading over Eileen's accounts, I saw a vision of a Cavalry man, who I thought was a soldier, walking through the chaos. He was disheveled, had lost his cap (I saw his blonde hair), and was in total distress. This was the last image I saw of Washita in that lifetime, as I fled with a Kiowa native who had tried to protect the village, but realizing that the situation was beyond his control, fled, taking me with him. With confirmation from Eileen, we realized that the cavalry soldier was her, or rather, the man she had been in that lifetime. And I found out that he was not a soldier, but a Civil War Medic.
In that lifetime, I was orphaned at age 3, found by a Cheyenne, and was adopted by the man who found me. That's how I ended up experiencing and surviving the the horrors of Sand Creek.
When I was moved onto a Reservation later in my life, the White people who lived in and around the Reservation couldn't pronounce my name, and, since I had been with the Kiowa when the natives were forced to reservation life, they assumed that I was Kiowa. So, they called me "Kiowa Charlie".
Here's a few amusing events of Wah-Tse-Gee's life, post-Washita.
1. Learning to wear Wool trousers that itched so much, it made him walk funny.
2. Scaring the beejesus out of two White women (more than likely Missionaries or wives of Missionaries) because everytime they turned on their gramophone, he was there, sitting or standing outside of their window. It was only because he was so fascinated by the sound of the music.
3. The look on his face when the women finally allowed him into their home to view the object of his curiousity.
4. Taking a wife, which was a big mistake, because he found out very quickly that they were COMPLETELY incompatible. The names he called her behind her back - Buffalo Rump, for one.
Jereldeen
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Indian massacre victims
In a prior life, I was a young boy during the Sand Creek Massacre (about 11.5 - 12 years old) and the memories are a bit hazy. However, I do remember the Washita massacre very clearly.
There is another person on this forum who posts under "Argenteluna" and she was at Washita at the same time I was there, however, she was on the other side - meaning, she was with the U.S. Cavalry, but as a Medic, not a soldier. It was by chance that we found each other on this site and by an even stranger coincidence, I had a vision of seeing her (or, rather, the man she had been in that prior life), on that day in 1868.
We both "remembered" seeing a young Native woman, just a young teenager, get shot "point blank". The force of the impact spun her around, at which point she fell down dead. Only, Eileen, as Dael, saw more of what happened to her than I did, as a Native fleeing the massacre.
While reading over Eileen's accounts, I saw a vision of a Cavalry man, who I thought was a soldier, walking through the chaos. He was disheveled, had lost his cap (I saw his blonde hair), and was in total distress. This was the last image I saw of Washita in that lifetime, as I fled with a Kiowa native who had tried to protect the village, but realizing that the situation was beyond his control, fled, taking me with him. With confirmation from Eileen, we realized that the cavalry soldier was her, or rather, the man she had been in that lifetime. And I found out that he was not a soldier, but a Civil War Medic.
In that lifetime, I was orphaned at age 3, found by a Cheyenne, and was adopted by the man who found me. That's how I ended up experiencing and surviving the the horrors of Sand Creek.
When I was moved onto a Reservation later in my life, the White people who lived in and around the Reservation couldn't pronounce my name, and, since I had been with the Kiowa when the natives were forced to reservation life, they assumed that I was Kiowa. So, they called me "Kiowa Charlie".
Here's a few amusing events of Wah-Tse-Gee's life, post-Washita.
1. Learning to wear Wool trousers that itched so much, it made him walk funny.
2. Scaring the beejesus out of two White women (more than likely Missionaries or wives of Missionaries) because everytime they turned on their gramophone, he was there, sitting or standing outside of their window. It was only because he was so fascinated by the sound of the music.
3. The look on his face when the women finally allowed him into their home to view the object of his curiousity.
4. Taking a wife, which was a big mistake, because he found out very quickly that they were COMPLETELY incompatible. The names he called her behind her back - Buffalo Rump, for one.
Jereldeen
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Indian massacre victims
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Little girl in Japan during WWII
I also had a past life in Japan. I have very vivid memories of myself as a little girl, running barefoot between burning wooden buildings. There was chaos and I was alone, terrified, screaming and crying. My death came when one of the burning buildings fell onto me. It was during a WWII air raid on my town. However, I'm not sure if it was during the Tokyo Raid or Hiroshima or Nagasaki, but I too have always had a fascination with Hiroshima. I would love to visit there one day.
In this lifetime, I am also Japanese. I went to see the movie, Pearl Harbor, and during the battle scene, it was very difficult for me to watch. At one point, I got so sick to my stomach that I wanted/needed to leave the theater, but couldn't because we were in the middle row and I didn't want to crawl over people to get out. So I just sat there and gritted my teeth and watched the scene.
I can only describe the feeling as a feeling of horror and guilt, sort of like, "Oh my God!! We did a horrible thing!!!" Sometimes, planes flying overhead will make me uneasy...it might be a carryover from that lifetime.
I also had a past life in Japan. I have very vivid memories of myself as a little girl, running barefoot between burning wooden buildings. There was chaos and I was alone, terrified, screaming and crying. My death came when one of the burning buildings fell onto me. It was during a WWII air raid on my town. However, I'm not sure if it was during the Tokyo Raid or Hiroshima or Nagasaki, but I too have always had a fascination with Hiroshima. I would love to visit there one day.
In this lifetime, I am also Japanese. I went to see the movie, Pearl Harbor, and during the battle scene, it was very difficult for me to watch. At one point, I got so sick to my stomach that I wanted/needed to leave the theater, but couldn't because we were in the middle row and I didn't want to crawl over people to get out. So I just sat there and gritted my teeth and watched the scene.
I can only describe the feeling as a feeling of horror and guilt, sort of like, "Oh my God!! We did a horrible thing!!!" Sometimes, planes flying overhead will make me uneasy...it might be a carryover from that lifetime.
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Swiss-Germany mid to late 1500's
I clearly remember my life in Swiss-Germany.
As far as I know, I was Mennonite (or AnaBaptist, as it was a time when the Mennonites were just starting to form as a religious sect).
It was in the mid to late 1500's and my name was Elzbeth.
Jereldeen
I clearly remember my life in Swiss-Germany.
As far as I know, I was Mennonite (or AnaBaptist, as it was a time when the Mennonites were just starting to form as a religious sect).
It was in the mid to late 1500's and my name was Elzbeth.
Jereldeen
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
South America - tidal wave
I believe that I lived many centuries ago in South America.
I was a native woman, with long dark hair. I was young and I had a very young baby. I remember I took the baby out to the ocean because the water had receded (I didn't know that a tidal wave was approaching).
I was playing in the water with the baby when the wave hit. I remember trying desperately to hold onto my baby but the undertow tore us apart and we both drowned. Everything happened so fast.
I remember my baby being pulled out of my arms, struggling, and feeling intense panic and fear. I remember the salt water choking me, burning my nasal passages and lungs, and then everything went black.
I believe that I lived many centuries ago in South America.
I was a native woman, with long dark hair. I was young and I had a very young baby. I remember I took the baby out to the ocean because the water had receded (I didn't know that a tidal wave was approaching).
I was playing in the water with the baby when the wave hit. I remember trying desperately to hold onto my baby but the undertow tore us apart and we both drowned. Everything happened so fast.
I remember my baby being pulled out of my arms, struggling, and feeling intense panic and fear. I remember the salt water choking me, burning my nasal passages and lungs, and then everything went black.
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
My Native American Grandmother
I once had a very close relationship with an elder woman (in her late 60's at that time) and she was a very spiritual woman.
I know about my pastlives and one night, I was thinking about one in particular...it was a life as a Native American woman who more than likely lived in Montana.
While deeply in thought about this life, I saw the woman that I used to be, walking with her grandmother back to the village. They were carrying wood and water.
When I looked at the grandmother, I saw an image of my elderly friend's face superimposed on the face of the grandmother from that lifetime. Also, their personalities and the way we interacted with each other in this lifetime and back then, are identical.
That's how I knew that my elderly friend in this lifetime, had been my grandmother in a past life.
Jereldeen
I once had a very close relationship with an elder woman (in her late 60's at that time) and she was a very spiritual woman.
I know about my pastlives and one night, I was thinking about one in particular...it was a life as a Native American woman who more than likely lived in Montana.
While deeply in thought about this life, I saw the woman that I used to be, walking with her grandmother back to the village. They were carrying wood and water.
When I looked at the grandmother, I saw an image of my elderly friend's face superimposed on the face of the grandmother from that lifetime. Also, their personalities and the way we interacted with each other in this lifetime and back then, are identical.
That's how I knew that my elderly friend in this lifetime, had been my grandmother in a past life.
Jereldeen
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Wah-Tse-Gee, born Shoshone and raised Cheyenne
I went into the regression session with nothing more than my curiosity. I never expected to come out of the session with anything more than a nice story about some wonderful fantasy I may have dreamed up.
But, as I think back, the emotions, the memories, everything was real. I don't know how else to explain it. I cried tears of grief, I expressed my anger, I felt pain when I was injured...I even joked around a bit and laughed at the White man's (regressionist's) suggestion that I see myself writing my name on a chalkboard. I remember telling the regressionist "I don't know how to write your pictures (meaning letters of the alphabet)".
In that lifetime, I was just an ordinary man struggling to survive and keep my sanity in a world of abandonment, hatred, war, and terrible loss. I wasn't a great Indian Chief or Indian Warrior, nor was I the son of a great Chief. I wasn't Sitting Bull or Crazy Horse or Kicking Bird. I was just Wah-Tse-Gee, born a Shoshone but raised a Cheyenne after being orphaned at the age of three.
I did research, found the truth in what I had said in my regression, and if I wanted to be a great Indian Chief or Brave (or even something interesting) I would not have chosen to be Wah-Tse-Gee. But knowing the truth, I have learned that certain traits of mine have been brought over through lifetimes, and I have to incorporate my strengths and deal with my weaknesses from life to life.
Jereldeen
I went into the regression session with nothing more than my curiosity. I never expected to come out of the session with anything more than a nice story about some wonderful fantasy I may have dreamed up.
But, as I think back, the emotions, the memories, everything was real. I don't know how else to explain it. I cried tears of grief, I expressed my anger, I felt pain when I was injured...I even joked around a bit and laughed at the White man's (regressionist's) suggestion that I see myself writing my name on a chalkboard. I remember telling the regressionist "I don't know how to write your pictures (meaning letters of the alphabet)".
In that lifetime, I was just an ordinary man struggling to survive and keep my sanity in a world of abandonment, hatred, war, and terrible loss. I wasn't a great Indian Chief or Indian Warrior, nor was I the son of a great Chief. I wasn't Sitting Bull or Crazy Horse or Kicking Bird. I was just Wah-Tse-Gee, born a Shoshone but raised a Cheyenne after being orphaned at the age of three.
I did research, found the truth in what I had said in my regression, and if I wanted to be a great Indian Chief or Brave (or even something interesting) I would not have chosen to be Wah-Tse-Gee. But knowing the truth, I have learned that certain traits of mine have been brought over through lifetimes, and I have to incorporate my strengths and deal with my weaknesses from life to life.
Jereldeen
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Italy, mid to late 1200's
I've had several regression sessions over the years and during one session, I told of a life in Italy in the mid to late 1200's.
In that lifetime, I lived alone in the mountains and had knowledge of using herbs and plants to heal. To make a long story short, I was eventually falsely accused of killing my children and selling their souls to the devil. I was hunted down, dragged to the town square, tied to a stake, beaten and burned.
The thing is, prior to that session, I had no idea that people who were accused of witchcraft were beaten first. I always believed that the victims were tied to the stake and burned alive. As I learned while researching the information I gave during my session, beating the victim to death was not a common practice in some parts of Europe, but in Italy, it was done.
I've had several regression sessions over the years and during one session, I told of a life in Italy in the mid to late 1200's.
In that lifetime, I lived alone in the mountains and had knowledge of using herbs and plants to heal. To make a long story short, I was eventually falsely accused of killing my children and selling their souls to the devil. I was hunted down, dragged to the town square, tied to a stake, beaten and burned.
The thing is, prior to that session, I had no idea that people who were accused of witchcraft were beaten first. I always believed that the victims were tied to the stake and burned alive. As I learned while researching the information I gave during my session, beating the victim to death was not a common practice in some parts of Europe, but in Italy, it was done.
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Songs from the Plantation
I guess I should explain why I'm asking about old plantation slave songs/stories...
I had a very brief life as a young woman named Lydia, who lived in Louisiana from around 1910 until her death at around 1938 or 1939.. She was 1/8th black, her grandmother having been a slave, I think in Mississippi. I posted something in the dream topics of this forum and from what I know the dream may have had a possible past-life connection.
Katrien gave me an excellent interpretation, of which I am posting in part:
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Need Help Regarding Plantation Slaves
I guess I should explain why I'm asking about old plantation slave songs/stories...
I had a very brief life as a young woman named Lydia, who lived in Louisiana from around 1910 until her death at around 1938 or 1939.. She was 1/8th black, her grandmother having been a slave, I think in Mississippi. I posted something in the dream topics of this forum and from what I know the dream may have had a possible past-life connection.
Katrien gave me an excellent interpretation, of which I am posting in part:
I was just wondering if there was some connection with the train and my past life as the grand-daughter of a slave. I'm thinking that she (I) must have grown up hearing of "soul trains" in the old songs and/or stories of her ancestors.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Need Help Regarding Plantation Slaves
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
More about the Japanese girl
I don't know much about my prior life in Japan...I only have visions of the last moments of my life.
I do know that I was small for my age because I was born during the war years, when food was scarce so I was more than likely under-nourished.
At that time, the houses in Japan were built very close together, so close that a narrow lane separated the buildings from each other and you could practically "hear your neighbors" from your home. The houses were also made of wood.
When the bombing started, I remember running between these houses that were on fire. I was all alone and absolutely terrified...screaming and crying. I believe I was desperately trying to find my mother.
The last moment of my life was when I heard a loud creaking and cracking and the building fell on top of me.
I don't know much about my prior life in Japan...I only have visions of the last moments of my life.
I do know that I was small for my age because I was born during the war years, when food was scarce so I was more than likely under-nourished.
At that time, the houses in Japan were built very close together, so close that a narrow lane separated the buildings from each other and you could practically "hear your neighbors" from your home. The houses were also made of wood.
When the bombing started, I remember running between these houses that were on fire. I was all alone and absolutely terrified...screaming and crying. I believe I was desperately trying to find my mother.
The last moment of my life was when I heard a loud creaking and cracking and the building fell on top of me.
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Mid to late 1400's in South Dakota
I have a question for anyone who is interested in forensics. This is so that I can understand something from one of my prior lives.
Here is my question:
If a man, approximately 5'10" - 5'11" is sitting on a horse, and he spins his horse around, and then is shot twice in the chest with 2 different arrows - one arrow going through the sternum and the other just slightly above and right to that, close to the clavicle...would one of the exit wounds end up between the shoulder blades?
There is a man I have very strong past life connections with, who died in a prior life in such a manner, and I just found out that he has a birthmark on his back, between the shoulder blades. The birthmark is sort of oval in shape, and just a tad bit ragged around the edges. I'm wondering if this birthmark could be a pastlife mark from those arrows?
Jere
The event supposedly took place sometime in the mid to late 1400's in South Dakota (my friend, having been from a tribe up north and the other tribe further south. If you know anything about Native history, the 3 tribes - Blackfoot, Crow and Sioux were always going into each other's territories and bothering each other).
So that would make the arrowhead more than likely flint, although I'm not sure what sort of materials the Natives did use for arrowheads used for war...would it be a different type than ones used for hunting...?
What happened that day, from what I can remember, was very chaotic. The gentleman that I have connections with had gone into an enemy camp for the purpose of revenge (the enemy camp having attacked his the summer before). It was a complete surprise and while the women, children and older people were running to the woods for protection, the warriors only had enough time to grab their weapons and horses and run to defend their camp. Some men didn't have time to grab their horses and some had to escort the other tribe members to the woods before going out to help. So there were many warriors on foot as well as on horseback.
I remember my gentleman friend had his back turned toward me (I was there in that lifetime and had been caught up in the chaos) and something distracted him to where he spun his horse around and at that point was shot. When I see the images, it's all in slow motion. He fell from his horse but didn't die right away. It was a very slow death...I'd say maybe it took about 5 minutes before he took his last breath...but I'm just estimating on the time.
I have a question for anyone who is interested in forensics. This is so that I can understand something from one of my prior lives.
Here is my question:
If a man, approximately 5'10" - 5'11" is sitting on a horse, and he spins his horse around, and then is shot twice in the chest with 2 different arrows - one arrow going through the sternum and the other just slightly above and right to that, close to the clavicle...would one of the exit wounds end up between the shoulder blades?
There is a man I have very strong past life connections with, who died in a prior life in such a manner, and I just found out that he has a birthmark on his back, between the shoulder blades. The birthmark is sort of oval in shape, and just a tad bit ragged around the edges. I'm wondering if this birthmark could be a pastlife mark from those arrows?
Jere
The event supposedly took place sometime in the mid to late 1400's in South Dakota (my friend, having been from a tribe up north and the other tribe further south. If you know anything about Native history, the 3 tribes - Blackfoot, Crow and Sioux were always going into each other's territories and bothering each other).
So that would make the arrowhead more than likely flint, although I'm not sure what sort of materials the Natives did use for arrowheads used for war...would it be a different type than ones used for hunting...?
What happened that day, from what I can remember, was very chaotic. The gentleman that I have connections with had gone into an enemy camp for the purpose of revenge (the enemy camp having attacked his the summer before). It was a complete surprise and while the women, children and older people were running to the woods for protection, the warriors only had enough time to grab their weapons and horses and run to defend their camp. Some men didn't have time to grab their horses and some had to escort the other tribe members to the woods before going out to help. So there were many warriors on foot as well as on horseback.
I remember my gentleman friend had his back turned toward me (I was there in that lifetime and had been caught up in the chaos) and something distracted him to where he spun his horse around and at that point was shot. When I see the images, it's all in slow motion. He fell from his horse but didn't die right away. It was a very slow death...I'd say maybe it took about 5 minutes before he took his last breath...but I'm just estimating on the time.
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Past life mothers...
I had a gypsy life in Italy and my mother and grandmother were the biggest influence on my life. I believe I lost my mother when I was a young girl and my grandmother had taken me into the mountains to protect me, and thus brought me up there.
I remember a Native American life in which I belonged to a Northern tribe (my tribe was split into north and south and would meet during the summer months for a reunion) which had been massacred. I was found by the Southern tribe, orphaned and sitting next to my dead mother amongst trees. I believe my mother had tried to run into the woods but was killed before she could run further in to hide. She had tried to protect me by using her body as a shield.
I had another Native American life where I had wandered away from my tribe, and while I was away, the tribe had been attacked. I was about 2 or 3 years old and the last memory I have was of my mother frantically running toward me. We locked eyes just for a brief moment before someone (I am now assuming it may have been my father) ran from behind me, grabbed me under the armpits and threw me into a brush...in an attempt to hide me and thus save my life.
More recently, I have very loving memories of a black grandmother (I was what was referred to as a quadroon) who loved to sing old slave hymns and in the very last life before my current life, of a mother who was completely devasted when she lost me in the 1960's to what I believe may have been TB, but I'm not sure.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering Mother
I had a gypsy life in Italy and my mother and grandmother were the biggest influence on my life. I believe I lost my mother when I was a young girl and my grandmother had taken me into the mountains to protect me, and thus brought me up there.
I remember a Native American life in which I belonged to a Northern tribe (my tribe was split into north and south and would meet during the summer months for a reunion) which had been massacred. I was found by the Southern tribe, orphaned and sitting next to my dead mother amongst trees. I believe my mother had tried to run into the woods but was killed before she could run further in to hide. She had tried to protect me by using her body as a shield.
I had another Native American life where I had wandered away from my tribe, and while I was away, the tribe had been attacked. I was about 2 or 3 years old and the last memory I have was of my mother frantically running toward me. We locked eyes just for a brief moment before someone (I am now assuming it may have been my father) ran from behind me, grabbed me under the armpits and threw me into a brush...in an attempt to hide me and thus save my life.
More recently, I have very loving memories of a black grandmother (I was what was referred to as a quadroon) who loved to sing old slave hymns and in the very last life before my current life, of a mother who was completely devasted when she lost me in the 1960's to what I believe may have been TB, but I'm not sure.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Remembering Mother
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
A life as a mixed-race girl
These notes of mine were actually emails sent to a group of friends. Also, while reading these over, I realised I made a mistake. It was not my "grandmother" in that lifetime who had been a slave, it was my "great-grandmother".
Last night, I decided to regress myself back to a possible life with a friend of mine. I remembered how I was regressed back to Elzbeth's life and I decided to try this technique, just to see if I came up with anything. This might be a bit long, but I want to know if anyone can make sense out of what I "saw".
The technique used to regress me back to a previous life went like this...
After surrounding myself with a protective white light (from head to feet), I walked through a white tunnel. When I reached the end of the tunnel, I was standing in front of a movie theater. I walk up the stairs and enter the building. There, I see a concession stand with snacks so I go there and pick up some popcorn and soda. And then I enter the theater. In my last regression session, the movie hadn't started and the screen was still dark, but this time there was already a movie playing. I sit down, a bit confused and tell myself...I don't think I belong here...I should leave. As I think these
thoughts, I feel or hear a voice telling me to stay...that there's something I need to know. So, I sit and watch this movie.
At first, I see an old town, some of the buildings are made of brick, and in this part of town, the buildings are built quite close together. It is dark, I feel it is late evening or very early morning (just after midnight). I see an old-fashioned black car make a turn around a corner and then suddenly I feel I'm riding in the car, as a passenger.
I look at myself and I'm dressed as if I'm going to an evening party. I was wearing a long, lacy, off-white dress and I had white gloves on. My hair was swept up, with some tendrils of hair falling to both sides of my face. My hair is light brown, my eyes are very light brown, maybe hazel, and my skin is very fair. I'm very excited, very much in love. I asked myself what year it was and the year 1931 immediately came to mind. I felt that I was about 20 or
21 years old.
I look at the driver and he is wearing a light beige or cream-coloured suit. His hair is slicked back but I see it is blonde, with some darker shades of brown. He is also about 20 or 21, maybe 22. He has very light eyes but I couldn't tell if they were blue or green.
I wanted to know my name so I tried to concentrate on it but couldn't come up with a name. So I decided to see if I could pick up the name in a conversation between the two people. They are speaking with a Southern accent.
Next, I see us traveling through what looks like farmland. It is daylight and we are having a conversation in the car. He takes my hand and he's asking me to change my mind. I tell him I'm not sure if I can (I appear a bit confused, as if I'm not sure what I want to do). I mention something about his parents not accepting me and that they would never consent to our being married. He tells me, that's why we're doing this. He tells me that he doesn't care that my great-grandmother was black. (OH...!). He tells me that we're going to "do this" and then make a life for ourselves. We'll keep in touch with our families and then return in a few years and by then, things should have settled and our parents will have accepted what we did. And then he says, Lydia...this is the right thing to do.
Next, we are pulling into another small town. The next scenes are brief...we are standing in a semidark room with candles and there is a judge or justice of peace and I see a ring being placed on my left finger. I see us at a hotel room (doesn't look very expensive but it's not a run-down motel either). He is carrying me through the door. The next scene, we are having breakfast in the hotel diner and we are ecstatic and I'm just smiling and talking a mile a minute (but this time, I didn't hear the conversation...I was just "observing" here).
After that, I see us in the car once more, driving out of the town and heading towards more open road with farmland up ahead. I don't have my gloves on and I see him pick up my hand to look briefly at my ring. ( All this time, I had an underlying feeling of doom, that something horrible was going to happen).
At that moment, I looked at him and then I looked up and saw another car heading toward us. The car had crossed over into our lane. It was moving a very high speed and weaving back and forth. The last thing I remember, I screamed out my husband's name and then everything went black. I then floated above the scene and I saw our car lying off the side of the road, completely wrecked and it was facing in the opposite direction, on its side. Somehow, I had ended up under the car and was dead. He was still in the car, crushed up by the steering wheel, also dead. I saw police and people around the scene.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Notes on a prior life as a mixed-race girl
These notes of mine were actually emails sent to a group of friends. Also, while reading these over, I realised I made a mistake. It was not my "grandmother" in that lifetime who had been a slave, it was my "great-grandmother".
Last night, I decided to regress myself back to a possible life with a friend of mine. I remembered how I was regressed back to Elzbeth's life and I decided to try this technique, just to see if I came up with anything. This might be a bit long, but I want to know if anyone can make sense out of what I "saw".
The technique used to regress me back to a previous life went like this...
After surrounding myself with a protective white light (from head to feet), I walked through a white tunnel. When I reached the end of the tunnel, I was standing in front of a movie theater. I walk up the stairs and enter the building. There, I see a concession stand with snacks so I go there and pick up some popcorn and soda. And then I enter the theater. In my last regression session, the movie hadn't started and the screen was still dark, but this time there was already a movie playing. I sit down, a bit confused and tell myself...I don't think I belong here...I should leave. As I think these
thoughts, I feel or hear a voice telling me to stay...that there's something I need to know. So, I sit and watch this movie.
At first, I see an old town, some of the buildings are made of brick, and in this part of town, the buildings are built quite close together. It is dark, I feel it is late evening or very early morning (just after midnight). I see an old-fashioned black car make a turn around a corner and then suddenly I feel I'm riding in the car, as a passenger.
I look at myself and I'm dressed as if I'm going to an evening party. I was wearing a long, lacy, off-white dress and I had white gloves on. My hair was swept up, with some tendrils of hair falling to both sides of my face. My hair is light brown, my eyes are very light brown, maybe hazel, and my skin is very fair. I'm very excited, very much in love. I asked myself what year it was and the year 1931 immediately came to mind. I felt that I was about 20 or
21 years old.
I look at the driver and he is wearing a light beige or cream-coloured suit. His hair is slicked back but I see it is blonde, with some darker shades of brown. He is also about 20 or 21, maybe 22. He has very light eyes but I couldn't tell if they were blue or green.
I wanted to know my name so I tried to concentrate on it but couldn't come up with a name. So I decided to see if I could pick up the name in a conversation between the two people. They are speaking with a Southern accent.
Next, I see us traveling through what looks like farmland. It is daylight and we are having a conversation in the car. He takes my hand and he's asking me to change my mind. I tell him I'm not sure if I can (I appear a bit confused, as if I'm not sure what I want to do). I mention something about his parents not accepting me and that they would never consent to our being married. He tells me, that's why we're doing this. He tells me that he doesn't care that my great-grandmother was black. (OH...!). He tells me that we're going to "do this" and then make a life for ourselves. We'll keep in touch with our families and then return in a few years and by then, things should have settled and our parents will have accepted what we did. And then he says, Lydia...this is the right thing to do.
Next, we are pulling into another small town. The next scenes are brief...we are standing in a semidark room with candles and there is a judge or justice of peace and I see a ring being placed on my left finger. I see us at a hotel room (doesn't look very expensive but it's not a run-down motel either). He is carrying me through the door. The next scene, we are having breakfast in the hotel diner and we are ecstatic and I'm just smiling and talking a mile a minute (but this time, I didn't hear the conversation...I was just "observing" here).
After that, I see us in the car once more, driving out of the town and heading towards more open road with farmland up ahead. I don't have my gloves on and I see him pick up my hand to look briefly at my ring. ( All this time, I had an underlying feeling of doom, that something horrible was going to happen).
At that moment, I looked at him and then I looked up and saw another car heading toward us. The car had crossed over into our lane. It was moving a very high speed and weaving back and forth. The last thing I remember, I screamed out my husband's name and then everything went black. I then floated above the scene and I saw our car lying off the side of the road, completely wrecked and it was facing in the opposite direction, on its side. Somehow, I had ended up under the car and was dead. He was still in the car, crushed up by the steering wheel, also dead. I saw police and people around the scene.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Notes on a prior life as a mixed-race girl
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Research Headaches
I have been looking at maps and various internet sites but it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Without a surname or at least a place name, it's really difficult. I found several sites with listings for obtituaries but you need to sign up as a member, and also pay a fee. Same with Ancestry.com. At the moment, I really can't use my credit card to pay for these sites so I'm trying other options. I found something from Ancestry.com which really caught my attention, but again, to get further information I would have to register and pay the fee. Look at this:
Name: Lydia Nelson
Birth: year - city LA USA
Death: 1939 - city Calcasieu LA USA
Marriage: dd mm year - city Orange TX USA
Parents: name surname, name surname
Spouse: name surname
I highly doubt it's her. Calcasieu LA is near the Louisiana-Texas border, however. Too bad there wasn't just a wee bit more information...like year of birth.
I looked up Inter-racial Marriage Laws and found this:
Begin: the year that the state began restricting interracial couples
End: the year that the state stopped restricting interracial couples
State: Louisiana
Begin: 1724
End: 1967
(Louisiana had the most Sections in their Code of Law (4) but basically, it's the same - that inter-racial cohabitation and/or marriage was against the law and subject to fines/jail).
State: Mississippi
Begin: 1822
End: 1967
[Sec.] 2361. Unlawful marriages--between white person and negro or Mongolian prohibited.--The marriage of a white person and a negro or mulatto or person who shall have one-eighth or more of negro blood, or with a Mongolian or a person who shall have one-eighth or more Mongolian blood, shall be unlawful, and such marriage shall be unlawful and void; and any party thereto, on conviction, shall be punished as for marriage within the degrees prohibited by the last two sections [i.e. incestuous marriages]; and any attempt to evade this and the last two preceding sections by marrying out of this state and returning to it shall be within them.
State: Texas
Begin: 1837
End: 1967
Art. 483. Intermarriage of whites and blacks.--If any white person and negro shall knowingly intermarry with each other within this state, or having so intermarried, in or out of the state, shall continue to live together as man and wife within this state, they shall be punished by confinement in the penitentiary for a term not less that two nor more than five years.
I didn't know Texas actually had a law against intermarriage. This is new to me. I guess I always assumed that Texas was a bit more relaxed about inter-racial marriages because the Whites, Natives and Mexicans had been intermingling with each other for a very long time.
If they (Lydia and her lover) did elope to Texas, they took a big risk. I'm guessing they figured with Lydia's Caucasian features and the fact that no one would know them or their backgrounds, no one would question their right to be married.
Jereldeen
I have been looking at maps and various internet sites but it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Without a surname or at least a place name, it's really difficult. I found several sites with listings for obtituaries but you need to sign up as a member, and also pay a fee. Same with Ancestry.com. At the moment, I really can't use my credit card to pay for these sites so I'm trying other options. I found something from Ancestry.com which really caught my attention, but again, to get further information I would have to register and pay the fee. Look at this:
Name: Lydia Nelson
Birth: year - city LA USA
Death: 1939 - city Calcasieu LA USA
Marriage: dd mm year - city Orange TX USA
Parents: name surname, name surname
Spouse: name surname
I highly doubt it's her. Calcasieu LA is near the Louisiana-Texas border, however. Too bad there wasn't just a wee bit more information...like year of birth.
I looked up Inter-racial Marriage Laws and found this:
Begin: the year that the state began restricting interracial couples
End: the year that the state stopped restricting interracial couples
State: Louisiana
Begin: 1724
End: 1967
(Louisiana had the most Sections in their Code of Law (4) but basically, it's the same - that inter-racial cohabitation and/or marriage was against the law and subject to fines/jail).
State: Mississippi
Begin: 1822
End: 1967
[Sec.] 2361. Unlawful marriages--between white person and negro or Mongolian prohibited.--The marriage of a white person and a negro or mulatto or person who shall have one-eighth or more of negro blood, or with a Mongolian or a person who shall have one-eighth or more Mongolian blood, shall be unlawful, and such marriage shall be unlawful and void; and any party thereto, on conviction, shall be punished as for marriage within the degrees prohibited by the last two sections [i.e. incestuous marriages]; and any attempt to evade this and the last two preceding sections by marrying out of this state and returning to it shall be within them.
State: Texas
Begin: 1837
End: 1967
Art. 483. Intermarriage of whites and blacks.--If any white person and negro shall knowingly intermarry with each other within this state, or having so intermarried, in or out of the state, shall continue to live together as man and wife within this state, they shall be punished by confinement in the penitentiary for a term not less that two nor more than five years.
I didn't know Texas actually had a law against intermarriage. This is new to me. I guess I always assumed that Texas was a bit more relaxed about inter-racial marriages because the Whites, Natives and Mexicans had been intermingling with each other for a very long time.
If they (Lydia and her lover) did elope to Texas, they took a big risk. I'm guessing they figured with Lydia's Caucasian features and the fact that no one would know them or their backgrounds, no one would question their right to be married.
Jereldeen
Midnight.Sapphires
Senior Registered
Funny stories from Wah-Tse-Gee's life
Notes from my life as a Native American man who was adjusting to life on the Reservation at the turn of the century:
"Just to make you chuckle, here's a few amusing events of Wah-Tse-Gee's life, post-Washita".
Learning to wear Wool trousers that itched so much, it made him walk funny.
And this story:
In that lifetime, there were two missionary women - widows, I believe. They had a gramophone, which was near a window, and used to crank it up and play it for their entertainment. Well, they were not only entertaining theirselves...I too became fascinated with the music coming from that old gramophone. Everytime they cranked it up, I would be there, sitting on the
ground outside of the window listening...sort of enjoying myself, I guess. I scared the bejesus out of them. Now, I don't mean to sound prejudice, because that's not my intention but you need to think about how most Caucasians looked at the Natives at that time...for two Caucasian women living alone with no male in the household to protect them, and having a strange Native man sitting outside of their window almost everyday...well...
But these were staunch missionaries who believed their lot in life was to save the souls of the Natives. So, they asked him in one day and allowed him to touch, look at and listen to the object of his fascination (I can still see the look on his face...just like a child seeing something wonderful for the first time). After that, they gave him clothes, taught him to read a little, speak a little bit of English and gave him an English name because they couldn't pronounce his Native name.
It was one of the rare moments in that lifetime when he/I actually felt a bit of joy...and I still smile thinking of it.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Funny memories
Notes from my life as a Native American man who was adjusting to life on the Reservation at the turn of the century:
"Just to make you chuckle, here's a few amusing events of Wah-Tse-Gee's life, post-Washita".
Learning to wear Wool trousers that itched so much, it made him walk funny.
And this story:
In that lifetime, there were two missionary women - widows, I believe. They had a gramophone, which was near a window, and used to crank it up and play it for their entertainment. Well, they were not only entertaining theirselves...I too became fascinated with the music coming from that old gramophone. Everytime they cranked it up, I would be there, sitting on the
ground outside of the window listening...sort of enjoying myself, I guess. I scared the bejesus out of them. Now, I don't mean to sound prejudice, because that's not my intention but you need to think about how most Caucasians looked at the Natives at that time...for two Caucasian women living alone with no male in the household to protect them, and having a strange Native man sitting outside of their window almost everyday...well...
But these were staunch missionaries who believed their lot in life was to save the souls of the Natives. So, they asked him in one day and allowed him to touch, look at and listen to the object of his fascination (I can still see the look on his face...just like a child seeing something wonderful for the first time). After that, they gave him clothes, taught him to read a little, speak a little bit of English and gave him an English name because they couldn't pronounce his Native name.
It was one of the rare moments in that lifetime when he/I actually felt a bit of joy...and I still smile thinking of it.
This post and discussion is continued in the thread Funny memories
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