If Houses could talk, this is what they can reveal.

For me, “talking houses” that tell all, are a concept that is real, nothing is impossible…in fact you could say that things, items,  and locations are a matter of resonance, vibrations, with a emotional, recorded type of data, a recognition of, and happenings in time that were embedded into physical matter and the can be a “witness” to, so, in that sense, they do talk to the right people if you are sensitive enough to open that information up and retrieve it, listen to it so to speak. Its called Psychometry, an acknowledged scientific phenomena,  to be able to “read” the information. I truly believe at some time in the very near future, science, technological advances will create to have an objective where in any object or space can be replayed, whereby the tech might be able to describe what is embedded within the molecular atomic structure,  all that has been recorded like a video tape, left within a space or object, and it can reveal a history, or data.

Impressions are nothing I have been good at, certain entertainers can do them, a friend I had named Tim did them frighteningly well! But when it comes to getting impressions of a psychic kind, that’s a different story. I can do those. It’s called Psychometry, the reading of an object as it is touched, it gives off impressions, visuals, sometimes sounds and other information, smells to as all things open up like a surround sound video with all senses opened and made clear.

I have done this on most of my cases that involved cold files, whether it was a garment to hold given by the police, or a location to stand upon to “see” what took place in the homicide event. Circumstances give other information, which leads to more, and on and on. This is how the police work, piecing a case together into a tapestry that makes a picture and a story.

It naturally has assisted me in my own life events since childhood. When I touched the hand of a man that reached out to shake and kiss mine, I was only a little child. My mother stood next to me and expected I would be courteous and allow my hand to be kissed as this was the first time this man was meeting me. We were in church and just ready to leave as the services were finished. I shyly extended my hand and when it was the mans hand touched mine, I was immediately flooded with emotions and pictures. The culmination of what I saw without giving the details was that he was a pedophile and I immediately ripped my hand from his before he was able to raise it up to his lips and kiss it. This was an outrage and insult of course, and my mother was mortified! She immediately pulled at my arm and yanked me toward her to spank me. She turned and apologized to the man who smiled and bowed his head in seeming understanding and acceptance and said that it was O.k.,  with a few more words to my Mother before he turned and walked away. I was still very young, in 4th grade, and I could not shake off the feeling and when he was out of earshot I had my mother lean down so that I could say “You don’t know what a bad man he is”. I will never forget she just looked at me, and I know I spooked her. She was silent and we immediately left to go outside. Her face told me that she believed me, as she had already began to know when I was a toddler and could speak, that what I had to tell her about other people, she used to say via the “eyes of a child” meaning that innocence will miss many things, but in many cases a child will see certain things others won’t and she could see I wouldn’t lie about those things. She knew I could tell her about her Mom still living in Russia, what impressions I was getting.  She would later get letters from her still living in the Soviet Union as it was called at that time, and in fact she would tell her, and with that was corroborating some of the details I would “see for her”. She knew for some years, that I felt her brother, my Uncle was still alive even though he was thought to be dead as they had not seen nor heard of him since the War that split many families apart at that time, by example as many people were captured under Lenin and Stalin and they just disappeared, just like that. Years later, she received a letter from her Mother telling of her Son, My Uncle, had surfaced! My Mothers brother had survived, was living a very brutal and rough life the whole time, he had decided to finally leave and make his way back, just that could have killed him, but where he had settled and set up his life, the small cabin I saw him in with smoke flowing from the chimney,  it was far away from all the war, camps, and chaos, so he finally, made his way out of Siberia to return home. He probably didn’t know what he would find but he made it back and was able to find my Grandmother. For his reasons, fear, starvation all of it, he made a life there and eventually, he decided it was time to let his family know he was alive.

I was very tiny, my Mother worked every day taking the train she commuted weekly to Manhattan. My Mother did not understand my crying and upset that my Nanny that was weekly in care of me while my Mother worked as a Drafts person working on blueprints and construction of roads and bridges, she knew I adored my Nanny. But that one Friday I knew was my last day with my Nanny Named Anne, same name as my Mother, Anna.  I adored her as she seemed to be my second Mother for a few years of care. I could not fathom she would not be coming back on Monday.  My Mother assured me that was not so, and she said she  knew that Anne would return to care for me next week as she always had. She eventually believed me. She received a call that Sunday late, that Anna wold not be returning. She was hospitalized for a progressive cancer tumor that she had for some time.  It was not long before I heard she had passed away. I was in nursery school, I had known her since I was a tiny baby. It was as though I was her child, it was very traumatic for me to know I would not see her again, I knew it was her bad health. I began speech while she was taking care of me, and I remember all I could say was Yum Yum for butter, which for some reason I would love as one of my first regular non baby foods to taste. I remember she was so good at understanding what I wanted. She was my second Mother.

Looking for a home in 2005, I found a darling I fell in love with, in a perfect location, perfect for me and my rescue animals. When I entered the home with my own realtor, we went ahead and went inside without the seller where he stayed outside to talk with the inspector and his own realtor, I knew when I touched the stairway railing right after we got through the front door, I told my outside talking to the other realtor named Barbara and I immediately told her what impression I was receiving loud and Clear. Her name was Edna or something close to this, it turned out to be Elda, and I saw she was thrown violently down the steps by someone that was a handyman, I knew he had killed her by choking her first. When I ascended the steps as I had stopped to receive the visions, I went right through the upstairs hallway and saw that the argument began in the main bedroom, it escalated through to the hallway over a check..I could see her holding it and handing it to the young man, but after looking at it he became intensely angry. The argument got chaotic and he began to choke her till she suffocated. He then carried her to the stair way and tossed her down to make it look as though she fell and died there. That was what I saw when I walked in.

Things took place, time went on and I eventually knew I would get my closing and would have this house and so, I went ahead and called the trash pickup company to set it all up. Yes, before the closing. Call me crazy but I knew this would be my home. The Waste company could not find my house with the address I gave them and I said that’s weird why can’t you find it, they had trash pick up there. I decided to call the local Police Dept which was actually located just north of me on my same street. They found it under the old name for the Route that runs in front of my home, so that solved that. Then I asked the Lieutenant I had on the line if he knew about an altercation, she was either a teacher, or librarian dealing with many books and knowledge, and she had someone work there for her at her home doing odd jobs. After the altercation she was killed by him, and found at the bottom of the stairs. I’m asking because I’m interested in the house expecting to buy. He paused and said Yes actually I do. I was a rookie Cop then, and it was my first call. And my first homicide case. I said was her name Edna? He paused and again and said Oh you know the case I said no but that’s Ok, he moved on and said Elda was her name. She was a retired Librarian that had hired a workman to work on a few odd jobs at the house. She paid him but he was not happy with what she decided to give him, and he choked her then tossed her body to make it look like she fell down the stairs. But forensics told us what happened, and we did find him and he did confess to what had happened, he was prosecuted and jailed for it. I thanked him for the good luck I had to call and have him on the line. HE was the only one who would have known, or remembered that as it was almost 30 years ago at that time. The Sellers, as I questioned them when I came back out side to meet up with them and the inspector, knew about every previous own to the home all the way back to the turn of the century, but had neglected to tell me about the death. On purpose.