The women often talk about how seeing a red bird is the sign that a loved one is visiting from heaven and often times with a message. My granny was particularly convinced that a pure white butterfly, which she had seen on occasions, were visits from her mother. And I could tell that those sightings had brought her joy and even comfort. Many swear by these sightings and may be, in part, why both the cardinal & butterfly as well as other such messengers have often been embroidered into our daughters’ samplers.
I’m not one to discount such signs because us men also believe in those who have the sight to see & discern signs which very few understand. How is that some possess this ability while others are not the least bit attuned to this gift? Why, we’ve all frequently seen the muted & flickering lights moving through the broken windows at the old church down by the mill. But even with our shared & common acceptance of such, some folks still venture to ask how the fleeting presence of a spirit or a mysterious encounter or the ability to have sight can be explained. I can offer no theory but I believe. Undeniable events which I myself have witnessed including a personal deeply troubling encounter has touched me. So I believe.
The most recent event, for an example, is one which more than a dozen people can testify regarding a spirit visit. Our last aunt had just died, the youngest of her ten siblings, and her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren had arrived one wagon load after another. We gathered in patches of several folks in the kitchen, around the hearth near her dear body, and even on the porch and across the creek on the bottom land. Naturally, we talked of her goodness and our deep respect & love for her. But, others needed time alone with their thoughts and we noticed that one her granddaughter had chosen to do. Rose had separated from us to slowly meander along her grandmother’s flower gardens. But when she rejoined us later, she asked, “So, who was that old man with a long white beard standing alone at the edge of the porch?” We were puzzled & all looked at each other bewildered because no one of that description had yet arrived. She insisted that he was just here but had not greeted her when she approached and, being shy herself, she had simply quietly just slipped into the cabin.
As we continued to visit with one another, Rose suddenly cried out as she pointed across the room towards a family portrait hanging on the wall, “That’s him! That’s who was just on the porch!” Why that can’t be, we all assured her. He died a long time ago! But, she would not back down. As a matter of fact, she became even more strong minded that he was the exact old gentleman that she had seen. Us adults could see that we would not change her mind and came to the conclusion that our eldest treasure & aunt, now passed, had been collected by her Grandpa who had died eighty-seven years, nine months and three days before her. I swear this to be true because I was there when it happened. But the family remains astonished today that only this girl, barely old enough to be called a woman, saw him when none of us others did.
My own encounter happened early one morning shortly after daybreak. I was walking back from the barn to the cabin after repairing the beam of the oxen’s yoke and enjoying the quiet easiness of the early hour. The barn’s smells and familiarity of my tools created a personal private quiet place where I enjoyed considering many ideas, organizing my thoughts and making plans for the day. But, walking back to the cabin through the fog and very early light, I suddenly felt an especially cool something brush against me and, at the same time, as though undecipherable words had been whispered against the back of my neck. And, in that exact same moment, I also smelled the strong cherry-like sweetness of my Dad’s pipe tobacco. I recognized it to be Half & Half, burley & bright, because I had enjoyed its smell through most of my late childhood. As a matter of fact, I began smoking it myself years later because it reminded me of him. Never before and never again did I ever feel such a thing. Of course, I recognized the ‘visit’ to have been from my father, but never understood its purpose or how, in that moment, he chose to visit uninvited by any thought from me. This disturbing moment is why I believe, and can’t help but wonder if others have experienced something similar.
I share these stories with you today not to frighten but to help one to understand that, if there was any worldly place where such happenings might occur, spirits would feel most welcomed here. You see, these Blue Ridge Mountains are truly amongst the oldest in the world. Their once harsh & jagged grand heights, however, have smoothed down over the past millions of years to their present-day gentle slopes, balds and blue & purple layered grandeur.
Indians hunted and made their homes here long before we did and were forced to leave because immigrants and settlers from the east heard of the beauty and richness that the mountains had to offer. Reports of precious gems, fertile lands & timber, plentiful buffalo and other game became a siren and encouraged colonists to bring their families down along the old wagon road to establish homesteads and towns. It was hard living for these first pioneers and not uncommon to hear of hear breaking loss. Wars have been fought through these deep valleys and along the mountain ridges, some with brothers against brothers, and many lost their lives. So, it’s not surprising that restless spirits still wander these lands which they once loved and cared for their own families as we do today. There are still many hidden areas yet to be fully explored so be alert to the possibility of meeting a spirit along the way.