This arm break of Leo has done some major altering to his conciousness. He’s never thought about repercussions since he’s been with us. He’s pushed all the horrors of his early years in the Siberian psycho wards as a child, then, he gets this major reality check. Last night while walking back from the barn on a kitten check, Leo asks me about what happens when you die. What? In the nine years we’ve had him, he has NEVER asked me about anything as deep as this. Pretty neat, yet, I’m not the best person to handle a response. But, I gave him my thoughts, while trying not to freak him out… My first encounter with a spirit was fairly mild. Another tech kept seeing a little man with a bowtie in a basement we were running phone lines through. I never saw it. Since he wouldn’t go back down to complete the cable punching, I kept my eyes peeled while I completed his part of the installation… I never saw anything. I finally just turned up my radio and dedicated cables. One odd thing I did witness at this house was actually funny. The home, converted into a real estate office, had been built in 1926. Really thick walls and that heavy tile roof popular in that era. As I went to mount a 10 button wall phone in the kitchen/new break room, I drill out some one inch holes in the wall to bring up a 50 pair cable, plus for the phone anchors. Before I can do anything, I’m dodging bees flying at me. The kitchen is suddenly live with them. Turned out, the wall was filled with a hundred year old bee hive. I taped the holes and went to the next room. Found out later they had to take the entire exterior wall off, then, removed hundreds of pounds of comb and honey… I’m in another basement in Beverly Hills off of Wilshire. It’s for a commercial building, so, it’s big. Really big. Corridors and causeways shooting off in every direction. There’s boxes and containers six foot high on each side of the cement passageways, full of records and files. I shinned my flashlight on some. Dated 1956. Sheesh. Feeling something weird, I shine my flashlight down a long, black walkway to my left and say, “Anybody down here?” A stack of files on the left of the walkway just falls over into the walkway. Then, opposite it, falls another. Hmm… Working for a Korean college off La Cienega, I end up in a maze of basements, interconnected with cement tunnels that run underneath La Cienega itself. Some had steel blast doors blocking them off since they had been built for bomb shelters during the cold war. Tons of old buildings throughout L.A. have them. Going down one dank, dark tunnel, I feel something. A presence. I keep following the cable above my head clamped to the ceiling, trying to be professional. I follow it to a steel ladder going up. I take the ladder, lift the steel cover plate. I’m behind the nine foot, ivy covered walls of the oldest cemetery in L.A. All around me are THOUSANDS of vaults and crypts. Into infinity they went… I’m in the Griffith house in Griffith Park. It’s sort of a park that the general public can’t access. It has a full time securtiy guard. The guard unlocks the front door then stands back. I say, “Aren’t you coming in?” He shook his head no, then said, “It’s full of ghosts pal. I’m never going inside!”… I’m talking to a forensic pathologist in the morgue at Cedars off Beverly. I asked him if he had ever seen or felt anything. He looked me right in the eye and said, “It’s why you have to be extremely proffesional in this line of work. You’re being watched all the time!” Hmm… A friend of mine in Riverside has a cabin up in the foothills. He wanted to enlarge his back walkway and repair a chimney so he had a crew break apart a large granite boulder to pull it off. In front of five people, the fractured rock exposes a 16″ long, solid pewter spoon. One edge of its handle had been repaired with a tiny weld. I’ve held that spoon and read the eye witness statements. I have the book, ‘Forbidden Archeology’, but, had never actually had it in my own hands… I end up telling Leo that he has to make up his own mind. It’s part of becoming a whole person. Seeing he was perplexed, I told him not to bet too upset about it. That he had a LONG time to go before he had to worry about death. Except for another shooting out of car windows again with his BB gun. In that case, he would die a lot sooner…
