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Silent Whispers-Book 2 Excerpt


April 2018

Full names will be in finished edition of SW book 2

            “I’m going to walk around and see if I feel anything. Hopefully, we can find N’s grave,” I said.

            We took our time walking the cemetery in the hot sun searching for her grave and finally found it. I looked for any deceased people roaming around, specifically N, and I didn’t feel anything of significance.

            “Look, do you notice how many graves carry the name K? They must have been very prominent here. There are so many with the same last name,” I said.

            I walked up the hill to the top corner and wondered if beyond the fence was the old property. There were many trees around up the hill, which is what I remembered from childhood. The rest of the area was flatter and with short bushes.

            I started walking back down and noticed a nice and expensive pick-up truck pulling up to the fence. We didn’t really have a reason to be at the cemetery and we weren’t sure if we’d be questioned of our intent.

            Tina was down towards the fence and they said hello to her as they got out of the truck.

            The three of us kept walking around in a non-obvious manner while observing the few people. One was an older man with a much younger woman. Another person was with them and they slowly walked toward the graves.

            The older man nodded at us, the woman also smiled.

            “Hi,” I said.

            “What family are you with?” he asked.

            “Uh…we’re not. We are just visiting the area,” I said.

            He mentioned that his family’s last name is K and started to question why were at the cemetery and I decided to blurt out an answer.

            “We’re here to visit N’s grave.”

            “Why? I’m her brother,” he said.

            Well, I didn’t see that coming.

            The younger woman walked up and said, “Dad?”

            I looked over at Andrea and Tina made her way to us.

            “Oh! Wow! We…we just read the story about her horse…L?”

            “What about it?”

            “It…well…just was interesting and thought…we’d visit the cemetery…so how did she die?”

            “She committed suicide.”

            “Oh…do you think that’s true?”

            His daughter stood closer to him and immediately shut down the conversation.



In August 2016, my husband, Robert, and I stayed in a one-hundred-year-old cabin near Beulah, Colorado. This was an interesting cabin. It had an electric stove and some dim lights, but no running water or bathroom. It was essentially camping with a bed, roof, and stove.

My aunt, Tina, had used an ancestor website to do some research on our ancestors on my paternal grandmother’s side of the family.

We were all surprised to learn that my great great grandmother, Lena, was full-blooded German. She came over to the United States with her siblings and mother, seemingly leaving the rest of her family back in Germany.

Upon arriving here she met an American man, married and had five children. Unfortunately, her husband left her for another woman and she died at the age of 47 while some of her children were still growing up.

What made this interesting was that Tina learned Lena’s grave was in Beulah. How Lena came all the way to Beulah, a tiny town even now, back in her time frame was a mystery. I wanted to visit her grave to see if she would appear and I could ask her questions. I wasn’t expecting another visitor…or two…or three.

To this day after that experience, I’m not so sure I want to visit graveyards anymore.

The town graveyard was decent. It was obvious the older headstones were not maintained and the newer ones were. Except for Lena’s grave. Her grave had many lilies planted in a circle around her grave. No one else’s older grave had flowers.

There were many unmarked graves as well, but Lena’s was well marked.We did notice a large hunting knife stabbed into the ground near her grave. A bit creepy?

I was visiting her grave with Robert and my family. Lena did not show up, but we walked around reading other headstones, enjoying a warm summer afternoon.

In our cabin, early morning (around 3am), I woke up and saw a male child standing at the foot of the bed. I acknowledged his presence and fell back to sleep. A few hours later, upon fully waking up, I heard, “Matthew, Matthew, Matthew.”

I’m betting that is his name. I should go back to the cemetery and see if I find his headstone.

Later in the day, walking the cemetery for a headstone with the name Matthew, I saw the same little boy’s spirit standing ahead and away from me.

“Matthew, show me your headstone.”

He pointed along one row. I walked to him where he remained and then he led me to one spot.

“But it’s not marked…let me keep walking and see if a Matthew shows up on a stone.”

I walked around more, never ONCE seeing a Matthew written anywhere. I found this strange since it’s a common name.

I looked back to the original spot and he was still standing there waiting patiently for me.

After walking back, I put my hand on the grave to feel the energy and allow it to form images in my mind. I figured I would see a child who was sick and poor perhaps. Too poor for his name to be etched into stone.

That’s not what I saw.

I was shown Matthew being grabbed by two large men. They were dragging him and he was screaming for help. He was wearing a stripped shirt and jeans. He had brown/auburn hair that needed a trim. He looked a tad dirty and getting more dirty as he was being dragged by these two seemingly angry men.

I knew they were going to murder him and I stopped watching.

“I’m so sorry Matthew…I’m sorry. You don’t have to be in pain anymore. There’s help…you always have help.”

His energy started shifting after he was able to tell someone about his murder. I asked him to stand next to his headstone and I took his picture with my phone.

I continued back to Lena’s grave and this time she was there. She expressed her anger and resentment. I could understand she was angry, but it became obvious she had not fully crossed over. I would continue to work with her especially after learning she is my spirit aspect.

I am my great great grandmother.

That night at dinner, I showed my father the picture I took.

“What do you see aside from a headstone?”

He focused on the photo and said, “There’s a boy there.”

“Matthew, he was murdered. I think he’s moving on now.”

That last night in the cabin more nonphysicals came to tell me how they were murdered. The picture they showed was death by drowning in some small body of water. It almost looked like a Baptism from long time ago. They were angry too….

The cabin itself wasn’t haunted, but the cemetery was! I later learned a nonphysical male followed me home…an angry male who was angry with Lena and wanted to take it out on me.

The next time you visit a cemetery, check your car for any folks who decided to hitch a ride with you…