New York, Thursday August 3, 1967 the New York Post Volume 166, No. 219 is released early morning with a front page cover that claims, By Randolph and Winston Churchill 2d ISRAEL’S SIX-DAY WAR; LBJ ASKS 10% TAX INCREASE, and the Yanks Sell Howard; Lady Cops Assigned to Male Duty Tours; Fear Flooding in N.J. Towns and Johnson Asks Congress for 10% Tax Hike; Revoke Bale of Negro in B’klyn Unrest; Reagan Ready To Go Home after a surgery to remove small bladders stones and a small spot on his lower lip, while at the same time a Whirlpool 12 CU. FT. 2 Door Refrigerator-Freezer sells for 199.95.
It appears that it is just business as usual in the Northeastern states as the New York Post hits the newsstands. On a micro scale a storm hits the east coast of New Jersey while Caroline awakens from her sleep with labor pains at 2Am, 14 days earlier than predicted. The drive to the local hospital proves to be moderately stressful as a huge summer storm rocks the city of Summit, bringing with it bellowing rains and unimaginable lightning strikes that beckon the arrival of something significant.
Just before 7 o’clock Caroline gives birth to her second child, a 7 pound 4ounce baby girl, during one of the worst thunder and lightning displays they had ever seen. Dean, the father, quietly thinks to himself, “This one is going to be an odd one,” as his wife inwardly considers a different perspective. “This is her big entrance into the world.”
Eleven months later the family visits Myrtle Beach with Nicole in tow; pacifier in mouth with a big wooden beaded necklace around her neck that her mother made for her. She adored her precious necklace and absolutely refused to take off, even during bath time.
Nicole’s parents lived in a number of locations as her father didn’t like to stay in one place for longer than two years; most houses they lived in were haunted by spirits. Her mother often saw and felt them when no one else could, although she didn’t always share the experiences with others, at least not until many years later when Nicole began to share hers.
Fast forward to a hot summer night in 1971 as Nicole laid outstretched, covered only by a sheet, sleeping deeply on her grandparent’s sofa while her parents went out for the night. Just before midnight she was startled awake by a loud rustling noise. She sprang to her feet, facing the summertime carefree style curtains. You know the kind! The one with the press on fringe. These in her grandparent’s home hung at the foot of her makeshift bed. They were moving violently and with no apparent reason. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, noticing that there was no air moving in the house that night. Her grandparents had only one small air conditioner hung half in-half out of the kitchen window, because that’s where the entire family convened to eat their spectacular Italian meals each week. On the second floor they had a small fan that sat inside the deep well of the window frame to cool them down while they slept. Putting the puzzle pieces together, she went back to focus on the crunching and rustling curtains. An image of her grandparent’s cat came to mind. It often leaped into the front picture window to watch the birds. Yes, that was a reasonable conclusion to come to. That is, until she remembered that there was no more family cat; he had died a couple of years ago.
Moving forward one year she sat in her fraternal grandparent’s family room when yet another spirit appeared. She was spending the day with her Aunt Catherine who had a wonderful accent that she absolutely adored. Nikki, as her family lovingly nicknamed her, cherished the time she spent with Catherine. She made her feel important and safe. On particular afternoon Nikki perched herself in her grandfather’s favorite high back recliner while Catherine took her usual position on the living room couch to face the television set. Catherine turned on the TV set and swiftly lost herself in a Lucille Ball repeat. Nikki sat intently eyeballing her Aunt and listening for the laugh that she knew and loved. Something caught her attention on the stairwell just behind her aunt and an odd feeling swept over her body. It felt as if someone took hold of her face, pulling her eyes and locking her gaze toward the stairwell. Catherine unknowingly giggled and wiggled in her seat as Lucille danced around barefoot in a tub of grapes.
Helplessly locked in position, Nikki stared into the empty space of the stairwell. A mist-like entity drifted slowly down the steps positioning itself just out of Catherine’s sight. Scared to death, with goosebumps on her entire body, Nikki watched as the mist began to pull itself together as if purposefully compressing into what appeared to be a heavyset woman made of mostly bone and teeth. The woman smiled at her, and then…as quickly as she took form, she evaporated back up the stairwell toward the second floor.
Minutes seemed to pass before the mist-like captor released her from her frozen gaze. Once free, she dashed from the cool leather lounger head-first into Catherine’s lap, burying her face between her aunt’s legs. Catherine laughed and snorted as she pulled her niece’s head from her full sized pillow-like thighs and looked gingerly into her eyes. “Your face is white as a ghost,” Catherine stated matter-of-factly.
The mere mention of a ghost sent shutters up and down Nikki’s spine. She pulled free of Catherine’s tender embrace and crammed her head back into her aunt’s cushiony lap. It wasn’t until years later that she was brave enough to tell anyone about what had happened that day. Her aunt shared that her great-great grandmother had died in that house and her funeral was hosted there in that very living room. As a matter-of-fact, her casket had sat right where her grandfather’s favorite recliner was situated.
These events, along with many others fueled Nicole’s inquisitive nature even though the experiences, more often than not generated fear and anxiety. With age came understanding although it was evident that not everyone believed in what she had been experiencing. The sideways glances and snide remarks took a physical toll, leaving an indelible mark on her heart and in her mind. Their negative comments left a sour taste in her mouth as she heard family and friends referred to her as psychic or unusual.
Years went by and odd events transpired. With each one Nikki matured in her practices, embracing new techniques as some unseen force guided teachers and experiences into and out of her life. Each person and experience provided new gifts while she became more willing to use them. It took over three decades for the puzzle pieces to fall into place. She finally found her place in the world and she came to love her experiences although she was driven to change the perceptions of others. Through all of her processes she knew that somehow and in some way she would prove that psychic experiences such as these weren’t mystical or without a proper explanation. Being sensory wasn’t about being psychic and she knew deep in her heart that Science would someday help her prove that seeing things as she had been meant that she was using a sense far greater than just seeing with one’s eyes.
Wanting to be accepted, she set about the task of answering some important questions. Did everyone see the world as she did? If not, what triggered these occurrences? What made each person different? God, the Universe, our DNA? Can the weather have anything to do with the person’s life path such as the extreme thunder and lightning storm that occurred on the morning of Nicole’s birth? Was it the mini-bike accident Nicole had at the age of 11 that opened her up to her gifts or did some higher power within the Universe mean for her to experience life in this way?
Keep reading to find out.