In 2003, my psychic medium wife Shannon and I went to Old Town Sacramento for the day. When we arrived, Shannon immediately started sensing a very strong pull. Neither one of us knew anything specific about Old Town, except that I knew it was a very cool place to party at during the jazz festival, which is sadly no more. Anyway, as Shannon and I start walking around enjoying ourselves, she begins sensing two things. 1. That another town was buried under Old Town. And 2. A very strong urge to search out and find something or someone there. Instead of casually strolling around and enjoying browsing through all of the shops, Shannon is walking at a frenzied pace, as if she was late to an appointment or looking for something. I kept asking her what was she sensing, and she would reply with, “I don’t know yet. But I have to keep looking. I have to know. It’s very important and I just can’t let it go.” So for about an hour, Shannon is dragging me around on some paranormal wild goose chase, until we come to an old beautiful brick building. We go inside and I immediately notice there are small stores on the ground floor along with stairways to more shops on the upper floors. So I assume if Shannon doesn’t find what she’s looking for on the ground floor, we’ll be hoofing it up those stairs. But… I was wrong. I was so wrong. Instead, Shannon heads down the stairway to the basement where a long creepy hallway filled with out of business shops were. The hallway felt like it was straight out of a horror movie. Somewhat dark and foreboding. As we ventured down the hallway, I tried to stop Shannon from going any further, but she was having none of it. I said “look, there is nothing down here. Let’s go.” And as soon as I said that, we came upon a little custom leather shop. My first thought was, what a horrible location. How can this place even be in business. Anyway, we go inside and an older man greeted us thinking we were clients coming in to pick up an order. The man, who was probably in his late 70’s or early 80’s, and myself were both surprised to hear Shannon’s next words. Shannon starts doing an impromptu reading on him and describes how a young man in a uniform who died during the Vietnam War was driving her to find the old man. Shannon tells the shop owner very personal and accurate information about him and the deceased soldier, and after about 20 minutes or so, the old shop owner says wait right here. He disappears in the back and then reemerges with an old photograph of a soldier. The photograph verifies Shannon’s description of the soldier, and the old man says he was my son. Now, I don’t know why Shannon can be driven to find a complete stranger to deliver a message and not know it was from the man’s son, but it happens sometimes. Psychics do not have “know all and see all” abilities, they’re only given what is needed, and in this case, what Shannon was shown was enough to convince the old man because he said he didn’t believe in psychics and if he hadn’t of experienced what he just experienced with Shannon he never would have believed it.
Afterwards, Shannon is feeling relieved that she was able to deliver the deceased soldiers message, so we go to the tourist center and guess what we learn, the original Old Town kept flooding in its early days by the Sacramento River so it was completely buried over and the new Old Town was built on top of the original Old Town to prevent flooding. Shannon’s sense of another town buried under Old Town was now verified.
Deadwood. 2001. Shannon and I are in South Dakota for three days vacationing. Remember, just three weeks prior is when my deceased cousin Kirby helped set Shannon and I up, and that Shannon is a psychic medium. Anyway, we are visiting Deadwood. Specifically, the Mount Moriah Cemetery. Final resting place of Wild Bill Hickok…… Or is it?
Shannon and I are walking around the cemetery enjoying the beautiful countryside of the Black Hills, when she starts to sense very angry Asian spirits in a far off separated section of the cemetery. Shannon is a little freaked out by their anger and despair, so we do not go into that area. Betrayal. Shannon also feels betrayal. Shannon doesn’t really pick up much more than that, so we turn around and head back towards the entrance. As we walk, we come upon an attendant giving a presentation to a group of people about a certain grave site. The grave site of Wild Bill Hickok. Or so we are told. During his presentation, Shannon leans into me and whispers; “he’s not buried here.” Immediately I become intrigued. Afterwards, I approach the attendant and inform him that we know Wild Bill is not buried there, he looks at us strangely and asks if we’ve been there before and we say no. I tell him about Shannon being a psychic medium and what she has already experienced with the Asian spirits. The attendant now becomes just as intrigued as I am. He tells us that in the years following Wild Bill’s death, grave-robbers kept disturbing Wild Bill’s grave so his body was moved to a more private location up behind the cemetery, and that the presentation that is given at the false grave is just for the tourists.
His attention then focuses on the Asian spirits. He says the story behind them is they were Chinese, and instead of full wages for their labor; upon their death, they wanted their bodies to be sent back to China so they could be buried in their homeland. Their American employers agreed to this but did not keep their promises and eventually had them buried in a segregated section of the cemetery to save money. The attendant then told us that this story is actually on their brochures which are available at the main entrance. I look at the attendant and said; “we didn’t know that so we don’t have one.” He was even more impressed after that. As we left the Mount Moriah Cemetery, we grabbed one of the brochures and it verified what the attendant told us, which in-turn confirmed everything Shannon had sensed.
2002. Pleasanton California. Shannon and I are driving home to Fremont. There are several routes you can take to get home, but the way I was going to take was on 680 and not through Niles Canyon. Why is this relevant? Well sit back, relax, and let me explain. Niles canyon is severely haunted. Growing up just one mile from the canyon’s western entrance, I was always seeing on the news about car accidents in the canyon. Many of them resulting in horrific death. As a small child, I remember when my family were nearly in one that involved about 5 or 6 vehicles. Over the years, bodies were found in the canyon too. Some of them were homeless people who died there, and others were those who committed suicide. There were a few murder victims, too. Oh! There is also the old legend about the White Witch who haunted the canyon, and sometimes, if they were unlucky, the travelers who drove the canyon late at night might be subject to her ghostly attentions. Needless to say, Niles canyon is filled with a lot of negative energy, and the narrowness of the land concentrates that energy to extremely high levels which can affect a psychic medium in a very strong and unusual way.
The very first time I drove Shannon (who is a psychic medium and who was from Washington state) through the canyon, experienced many spirits. Some she could see on the side of the road, and others she sensed down in the creek where their car eventually ended up after going over the edge. The drop off varies and is only about 10 to 20 feet, but still devastating when traveling at the moderate speed limit posted in the canyon. The most intense part of the eastbound drive was going through Dead Man’s Curve. This hairpin corner is where the bulk of the vehicle accidents take place. After we drove through Dead Man’s Curve, Shannon leisurely stated; “there were about a dozen people standing on the side of the road waving at me,” and I said what? I didn’t see anyone, and Shannon said; “they were all ghosts.” I had focused all of my attention on driving through Dead Man’s Curve, and had temporarily forgotten about her sensing spirits. Anyway, we reached the eastern side of the canyon and turned around in the little town of Sunol to head back west to Fremont through Niles canyon, and this is when things got really weird.
We start back to Fremont and Shannon slowly starts to feel inebriated. She starts slurring her words and swaying in her seat like she can’t keep her balance. Her eyes begin to drift and she starts to feel nauseous. The drive through the canyon is only about 7 to 8 minutes, but it felt much longer. When we reached the western side of the canyon, Shannon immediately started to feel better. After a few days, I came to the conclusion that the reason Shannon was affected this way during the westbound drive, was because a lot of the car accidents that occurred were by teenagers who would drive into the canyon (eastbound) sober, park their cars and party down by the creek, then drive back towards Fremont (westbound) drunk, which is when they would crash and lose their lives. Makes sense to me, and Shannon thought so too. After this time, Shannon and I have only driven eastbound through the canyon, once, and have never driven westbound. Not in 18 years…. Except maybe once.
Back to the beginning of our story. As I had stated before, Shannon and I were driving back to Fremont from Pleasanton. We were on 680, and the plan was to take 680 back to Fremont because of her prior bad experience, but it was late and I was tired and Shannon was asleep. We also lived in a little cottage right at the western entrance of Niles canyon, so going through Niles would have been a lot quicker. I have stories about that as well. But those will be told later. Anyway, Shannon was asleep in the passenger seat. A sound sleep. A sleep so deep that even the occasional pothole didn’t disturb her. So when the exit came up for Niles Canyon, I slowly started to drift onto the off-ramp, when all of a sudden, Shannon bursts awake throwing her hands up in front of her yelling; “YOU’RE GOING THROUGH NILES CANYON!” I freaked out and hit the brakes and swerved back onto the freeway just in time saying, “NO I’M NOT!” We actually both laugh about it now, but at the time it was just another amazing paranormal experience we got to share together. And now we get to share it with you.
2002. Sunnyvale. I take my psychic medium wife Shannon for the first time to experience the haunted Toys ‘R” Us in Sunnyvale California.
Back in the 90’s I use to co-own a pizza parlor one block from Toys “R” Us, so I’ve experienced paranormal activity before. But I digress, this is about Shannon’s visit.
The stories vary, but the core is, around the turn of the last century, a ranch hand fell in love with the ranchers daughter who owned all of the land up and down the El Camino Real. Including the land where my pizza parlor was. Anyway, the story is the ranch hand was chopping wood and accidentally chopped into his own ankle and bled to death when he saw the ranchers daughter. According to the legend, her beauty was so overwhelming and he was so in love with her that it distracted him which lead to his accident.
Him bleeding to death is an important part of Shannon’s part of the story.
So… back to 2002.
Shannon and I walk into the haunted Toys “R” Us, and Shannon immediately stops and says, “what the hell happened here!?” (Remember, Shannon does not want to be told in advance about haunted locations) I ask why. And she said, “everything is covered in blood! The toys on the shelf and the floor are both dripping in fresh blood!” We made a quick tour of the store and then left because Shannon was starting to feel nauseous from all of the blood!
This was the first and only time that one of Shannon’s reading focused on the results of a haunting and not the ghost itself.
2002. An English pub in Half Moon Bay. Shannon and I are having lunch when she senses a spirit. I tell the waitress that my girlfriend is a psychic medium and that the place is haunted. The young girl looks excited and runs off to tell the manager. The manager comes over and asks us if its okay if we follow her, and we say yes. So the manager, the waitress and us walk outside to the building next door but is still on the same property and shares the same parking lot. The pub had several rooms they rent out in a two story building, as well. The manager unlocks the door to an interior stairway to the upstairs rooms. She then steps back and gestures for us to enter, which we begin to do, but Shannon immediately stops and stares up the stairway for a good minute or two while the rest of us just watch in anticipation. Shannon then turns and looks at the manager and says; “Your guests are trying to be pushed down the stairs.” The young waitress gasps in shock and the manager confirms Shannon’s reading. We go upstairs and Shannon sees an old sailor (ghost) who is angry with strangers sleeping in his room. That’s why he tries to push the hotel’s guests down the stairs. Another little paranormal adventure ends with great memories and a cool story to tell.
2002. My psychic medium girlfriend (wife, now and who was from Washington state but now living with me) and I drove up Mill Creek Rd in the Fremont hills.
Back in the mid eighties, two young girls were brutally murdered. But I did not tell Shannon this. I told her it was just a beautiful drive in the hills that I wanted to take her on. (Shannon never wanted to know anything about haunted places I would take her so she could satisfy her own need to be accurate) So we start up the road and Shannon immediately starts describing the girls and their night of terror before they died. I remember very well a lot of the details about the case from our local paper at the time so I knew Shannon’s accuracy about what she was describing was dead on. I’m not going to go into details about what the three men did to them before they killed the girls because it was pretty bad.
I did not confirm or deny any of what Shannon was reading at the time, until we exited the canyon, which took about an hour. As soon as we were out of the hills and back in Fremont, I verified everything Shannon said. She was very solemn for the next hour or so because the energy was so negative and the girls last night alive was so horrific that she said she can never go up Mills Creek Rd again. And in 17 years since then, we haven’t.
Southern Oregon. 2001. My psychic medium girlfriend (new girlfriend at the time) Shannon and myself were visiting a local tourist attraction, when Shannon starts sensing a girl in the woods, wailing at the top of her lungs, Shannon starts describing her to me and eventually picks up that she had been raped and murdered beyond the vortex property. Shannon keeps picking up that there is more to the story but can’t put the rest of the puzzle together yet, so Shannon asks the two tour guides; who were both girls in their early twenty’s, if they knew anything about the victim, the one girl turned white as a ghost and burst out crying! The owner of the place came running out of her office and calmed the girl down.
Once the girl calmed down, she told us it was her, 16 year old sister; three years prior, who had been raped and murdered.
This is when I became convinced that Shannon was a legitimate psychic medium.
My wife Shannon and I met in 2001, and we were introduced by my cousin Kirby… again, in 2001. The catch to the story is, my cousin Kirby died in a car accident in 1981………… Shannon is a psychic medium.
Boomtown Hotel & Casino. 30 minutes outside of Reno Nevada. Friday night. Memorial Day Weekend. 11pm-ish. I am in the Cabaret listening to a band while Shannon is on the other side of the casino gambling. For about an hour and a half she ignores disembodied whispers in her ears, saying, “Go to the cabaret. Go to the cabaret.” She also feels an occasional tug on the back of her blouse from an unknown spirit. She finally gives in, and comes to the cabaret where we meet. Instant chemistry. Instant attraction. Our souls instantly recognized each other. We spend the next three days together as if we went there as a couple. Afterwards, Shannon goes back to Washington state, and I back to the SF Bay Area in N. California. We hook up again three weeks later in southern Oregon for my vacation where Shannon tells me that she is a psychic medium and that I had a spirit with me in Reno who was responsible for her coming into the cabaret. She describes him as a male teenage relative with sandy blonde hair and who has an infectious laugh. All true about Kirby. But she is puzzled. She says he’s legally your cousin, besides being your best friend, and a soulmate, but he’s not related by blood or marriage. I smile at Shannon and say, ” that’s because Kirby was adopted.”