Lincoln
I guess if we really want to cover my story with Lincoln we'd have to go all the way back to my visit to Gettysburg when I was about 10 years old.
I had no desire to go to Gettysburg. My ambition was to be an Olympic swimmer so I only wanted to be in the hotel pool. I had no interest in tramping through fields of rocks where some guys I'd never know had died a gazillion years ago. Maybe if I'd known what Gettsyburg had in store for me that morning I would've been more enthused about Gettysburg.
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The morning we arrived there it was cool and drizzling rain. I was tired, having swum in the pool until late the night before. I was also "bored out of my gourd" as we used to say back then.
I told my dad to go ahead with the family, I just wanted to rest for a few minutes and I'd catch up with them. We were in Devil's Den at the time.
I settled at the base of a boulder on which was a plaque saying something about a dead soldier found in Devil's Den after the war.
Whoopdedoo.
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I closed my eyes. Suddenly I had the feeling I wasn't alone anymore.
I opened my eyes. To my right sat the ghost of a Confederate soldier.
"Howdy Ma'am," he said, tipping his hat to me.
I tried to scream for my dad but all that came out was a squeak.
Ghost of a soldier in Devil's Den
I doubted chasing off the ghosts of Civil War soldier was in the repertoire of things dads were expected to do for their kids anyway.
"I'm not a Ma'am. I'm a kid, I said to the soldier as I studied him.
He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. His clothing was worn with rips in places, a large crimson stain covered the front of his shirt and coat. His boots were worn and muddy.
He threw back his head and laughed at my "I'm not a Ma'am" comment.
"Just so ya know...I think you're dead. Like a ghost or somethin' " I added. Just in case that fact had escaped his notice. "And ya look like shit."
He threw back his head, laughing even harder, slapping his knee as he did. "That's what I love about y'all Patty. Y'all always tell it just like it is. But you best watch your mouth or your stepmama will wash your mouth out with soap again. But I done gone and got myself shot so I imagine I do look like you-know-what."
(How did he know my stepmom washed my mouth out with soap when I cussed?)
"How do you know my name?" I asked.
"I just do," he said.
"Aren't ya gonna tell me your name?"
"Name's Adam."
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Adam talked funny, like my cousins from "Missoura". We talked for awhile - about the war, how he'd grown up on a farm, how much his missed his mama's peach pie.
Then his face grew serious.
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"Y'all have a secret, Patty. A secret you don't tell anyone."
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HOW DID HE KNOW ABOUT MY SECRET? I never revealed to anyone I was psychic, I'd learned to hide that fact.
I played with my shoelaces. Talking about my secret wasn't something I liked to do. Yet for some reason, I felt safe talking to Adam about it.
"The kids all make fun of me," I confessed. "Call me witch and devil and stuff.
"What y'all have is a gift, Patty. A gift y'all will help many people with in the future, including those kids that made fun of you. Don't ever be ashamed of that gift."
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With that he said it was time for him to go. Adam vanished into thin air.
I raced ahead to catch up with my family. I'd already decided I'd keep Adam's visit to myself. Who would believe me anyway even if I did tell?
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Dad was taking us to some Civil War museum. I felt myself drawn to a glass display case containing Civil War era photos. I was drawn to one photo in particular...a soldier who'd been shot in Devil's Den. The caption below the photo read "Anonymous soldier found dead in Devil's Den." I was staring intently at the soldier's face. He's not anonymous, I thought. His name was Adam!
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After my encounter with Adam it seemed I had this weird psychic proficiency when it came to anything Civil War related. For example, a woman came to me whose son was a Civil War re-enactor. She'd taken a photo of him during a re-enactment and when she'd had the photo developed the fully manifested ghost of a soldier stood directly behind her son. She wondered if I could tell her anything about that soldier.
I gave her the soldier's name, what city and state he'd been from, his rank, what he'd done in the war. A couple of days later she came back, telling me she and her sister had found a record of that soldier. I'd gotten everything about him right.
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In hindsight I think this was just a setting of the stage for what was to come. When the Angelics orchestrate something they always set the stage for that orchestration.
The following year my dad took us to visit Lincoln's Springfield home. I felt an odd 'kinship' with that house.
When the tour reached the front parlor, I stopped the tour guide dead in her tracks when I blurted out "Eddie died in this room!"
"Why yes he did," she confirmed, when she'd composed herself. "But how did you know that?"
"He just told me."
I had no idea who Eddie was apart from a little boy that appeared to me during the tour and began talking with me.
Lincoln home parlor that used to be the bedroom Eddie Lincoln died in
Eddie Baker Lincoln was Lincoln's 3rd son. Very little is recorded in history about him because he died just shy of his 4th birthday of tuberculosis.
However the similarities between Eddie and I were remarkable, right down to a shared story of both of us wanting to adopt a stray cat, our mothers both saying no and our fathers overriding them to let us adopt our respective cats.
At that time I just thought this was a fluke oddity.
It would turn out to be much more than that.
In the 1990's I'd be gathered in a chat with my psychic friends. Among them was my South African friend, Mike who was ill with terminal cancer. Mike was also an extremely gifted medium.
We were just casually chatting about nothing in particular when Mike suddenly said "Patty I have someone here with a message for you."
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"OK. Who is it?"
"Some American dude."
"Well that certainly narrows the field down Mike," I laughed.
"Says his name's Abraham."
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I scanned my data banks. I couldn't think of anyone in spirit i knew named Abraham.
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"He says you wrote a report about him in 6th grade and when you went to visit him you were eating a red lolly and tried to sit in his lap," Mike continued.
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O...M...G!!!
I had written a report about him in 6th grade. And when I'd visited his Memorial I'd been eating a red Tootsie Roll pop and I had tried to scale the statue to sit in his lap. That was pre 9-11 when one could still walk right up to his statue.
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"You're telling me you have ABRAHAM LINCOLN for me?" I laughed.
"I don't know...some American dude. Who's Abraham Lincoln?" Mike asked.
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We all explained to Mike who Lincoln was.
"Oh," Mike said, sounding rather sheepish. He's nodding his head yes."
"Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay...and pray tell what does Abraham want?"
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Mike was a big practical joker so I just assumed this was another of his practical jokes - although I don't know how he knew about the report I'd written or that I had tried to scale Lincoln's statue to sit in his lap. I'd never told anyone I'd done that.
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"He says an important letter he wrote was lost. He wants to dictate that letter to you." I was then to send it to the Natl. Archives in Washington D.C.
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"Ummm yeah. And I'm supposed to tell them what? That Lincoln dictated the letter to me from beyond his grave? I don't think so," I laughed.
"He says proof that what you're written is legitimate will be revealed."
"Yeah, well you tell Abe I don't do automatic writing and I'll take a pass on that one."
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I thought that would put and end to Mike's practical joke. It didn't. Abe then went around the room telling each person something no one knew about them. To say they were shocked would be an understatement. Abe then launched into the most eloquent speech any of us had ever heard about America's Civil War, "men's blood being spilled in the sand" and how if we didn't learn from history we'd be doomed to repeat it.
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By the time he'd finished there wasn't a dry eye in the house. It took us all several minutes to recover and only then did we remember it was the 4th of July, Independence Day.
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A few days later I ran into Mike and asked him if he'd been pranking me. He insisted he hadn't and that he really hadn't known who Lincoln was. "Some American dude" became a joke between us until Mike's death the following year.
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Now I believed it hadn't been a joke but there was nothing I could do about it at that point.
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Fast forward to July, 2007.
Hubby and I were eating dinner while watching the nightly news. Suddenly the TV anchor announced "A lost letter written by President Abraham Lincoln has just been recovered in the Natl. Archives..."
Hubby literally dove over the table to keep me from choking to death on my dinner.
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Abe had said that proof of what I'd written was legitimate would be recovered. And here it was! In the Natl. Archives where Abe had told me I was to send his dictated letter.
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Here's the story from the Natl. Archives own archives.
I now realized I'd really screwed up BIG TIME and told President Abraham Lincoln to take his lost letter and stick it.
This would certainly not have good karmic ramifications for me.
But there was nothing I could do at that point.
The lost Lincoln letter
The only alternative I had was to apologize to Abe for thinking the whole thing had been a joke.
So that night when I was alone, I telepathied "Abe if you're listening...I'm so sorry. I honestly thought Mike was playing a practical joke on me."
A couple minutes later I heard a soft voice say "That's ok love, you didn't know."
I froze. OMG was Abe back?
"Do I dare ask if this is really you?"
"It is. But I know how you like your proof Patricia. Look at photos of me. And by the way, please call me Lincoln. I always hated the name Abraham, everyone called me Lincoln." POOF he was gone.
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I wasn't taking any chances this time around. I pulled up a website on Lincoln and what's the first photo I find?
HE BEING DEAD YET SPEAKETH? Oooo Lincoln apparently didn't horse around! Not only that, I found an article on that site that said he hated the name Abraham so everyone called him Lincoln, even his wife.
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"HEY GET YOUR PRESIDENTIAL ASS BACK HERE!" I yelled.
Gales of shrill laughter. "You don't have to shout, love. I'm dead not deaf."
"Why did you come to me about your lost letter?" I asked.
"Because we share a bond."
"What bond?"
"You're a smart cookie, you'll figure it out." POOF he was gone again.
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For two weeks I tried to figure out what this bond might be. I was coming up empty. I finally got an idea. I'd have a good friend who was also a very good psychic medium contact Lincoln without knowing who she was contacting so she wouldn't be influenced by anything in making contact.
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"Gee, this man has wonderful energy, Sis!" she began.
So far so good, she got he was male and got his energy right.
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"Ask him what the bond is," I instructed.
"Sis, did he have sons?"
"Yeah, 4 of them. Why?"
"He's saying you're the second son and showing me a baker?"
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Wait...what?!!!
"He's saying I'm his second son, Eddie???"
"Yes, that's what he's saying. Oh Sis, he's laughing so hard at the look on your face right now."
"Yeah, hilarious. Glad he's having a good laugh."
"Sis, who is this man?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
"Abraham Lincoln."
"Oh." (Pause) "Wasn't he one of your American Presidents or something?"
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I guess Australians know about as much as South Africans when it comes to Lincoln.
Was I believing I was the reincarnation of Eddie Lincoln? Don't be ridiculous. I set out to DISPROVE I was. I even consulted a very well known psychic but said nothing about the whole Eddie thing to see if she'd trip to it. She did...telling me I was the reincarnation of Eddie Lincoln.
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I began to make a list of reasons why I couldn't be the reincarnation of Eddie, differences between us. That was a lost cause. I ended up with a list of similarities between Eddie and I.
Then one of my psychic friends noticed something interesting. She'd laid a photo of myself at Eddie's age when he died next to my photo at the same age and pointed out how we could have been twins. Everyone agreed.
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At the age Eddie died of tuberculosis, I'd nearly died of pnuemonia. I attended LINCOLN school, my dad's dental practice was located above the LINCOLN Pharmacy - who was owned by a man named EDDIE Wavro and who treated me like his own daughter. Eddie's mother was named Mary, both my mother and stepmother were named Mary.
My maternal grandparents lived on BAKER Road. (Photo at right)
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But Linc (as we'd decided I'd call him) wasn't through with me yet.
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"We're related by blood," he informed me.
"Get outta town! We are not!"
"Yes we are. Check it out if you don't believe me."
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As luck would have it my husband was a genealogist so I had him check it out. Sure enough! Linc was my 5x great uncle on my mother's side. We were related by blood.
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Nor was Linc shy about dropping in on my friends during our chick chats.
The first time he turned the room upside down by going to my friend, Janet White.
She had no idea who she had and I wasn't about to tell her. Linc went around the room to each one of my friends giving them makeup tips after instructing Janet to tell me to put some red nail polish on. (Heknows my favorite color is red but that I don't wear nail polish). Finally, Janet asked "Who is this I have?"
I told her "Ask him."
Long pause...
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"OH MY GOD! I HAVE ABRAHAM LINCOLN? THE ABRAHAM LINCOLN? PRESIDENT ABRAHAM LINCOLN? Oh my god Patty, why didn't you warn me? My hair is a mess! OH MY GOD I HAVE ABRAHAM LINCOLN!"
It took a full ten minutes to calm her down before she said "Wait a minute. Why would ABRAHAM LINCOLN be coming through with a message for you?"
"Ask him."
Another pause. "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE RELATED TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN?!! YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU WERE RELATED TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN!"
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My gal pals loved Linc.
As time went on Linc and I grew closer and closer. I knew I could call on him any time in a pinch.
One very hot summer afternoon hubby and I were driving back home from a medical appointment down south when our water pump quit, leaving us stranded on the side of the highway. This was in the days before cell phones and the nearest town was miles away. Nor did anyone offer to stop to help us.
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Finally I said to hubby "OK you're going to think I'm nuts but I have one last idea." I called aloud "Linc! We need your help!"
"Fat lot of good that's going to do..." hubby said.
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Not two minutes later a LINCOLN County deputy pulled up behind us and phoned a tow truck for us.
Hubby looked at me and said "Jesus Christ...you REALLY DO talk to him!" (Well DUH!)
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Linc was full of surprises. One night I asked him to show me what the Civil War was like.
He showed me the amputation tents complete with flies buzzing, piles of amputated limbs, the stench of rotting flesh, the men having amputations screaming in agony. I guess he wanted to drive home the point he'd made years earlier about "men's blood being spilled in the sand" and history repeating itself.
He was right because by that time the cabal was trying to start a second civil war.
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Another time he told me he was reincarnating.
"You are? You coming back with the same name?" I asked innocently.
Linc blew a gasket. "THERE WAS ONLY EVER ONE ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THERE WILL ONLY EVER BE ONE ABRAHAM LINCOLN!"
"Jesus!" I said "Don't get your undies all in a twist! I was just wondering how I'd know it was you! So just calm the hell down!"
A few weeks later I realized why Linc had blown that gasket and told me "Be careful what you put online."
I'd had eyes on me and the cabal had picked up on the fact Linc was in contact with me. So they hatched a plot to use Lincoln to try to win the American people over to them. Dubya Bush was the first to try it when the American people began comparing him to Hitler - and he came out comparing himself to Lincoln. Which really pissed Linc off. Then Obama jumped on the bandwagon when he was President.
Linc did tell me I'd recognize the reincarnation of him because he'd reincarnate within my family and I'd know him by the name they gave the baby. As it happened, a gal in my family was pregnant so I told my sister about the reincarnation of Linc, figuring that's the only baby he could reincarnate in since no one else in the family was pregnant.
My sister thought I'd lost my marbles. Until one day she nearly broke my door down running into my house yelling "GUESS WHAT THEY'RE NAMING THE BABY! LINK!"
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I'd told her this reincarnation would be born on Eddie's birthday - March 10th. Sure enough, on March 10th momma began going into labor. My sister was in the process of redecorating her house and laying new carpet in the living room. So she shouted out "Linc, you can't come yet! Give me a couple days to finish the house before you come!" Momma's labor stopped and exactly two days later on March 12th Link was born. (No, I kid you not!)
Eventually I figured out Linc was another of Jmmanuel's personas - at least part of the time.
According to him half the time I had him as Linc, the other half of the time I had the real Linc.