DrumBob
New Member
Hello, I have come here knowing full well that I have lived before. In this life, I'm a working musician, journalist and author. Almost all my past life experiences involved the military. I have had two past life regression sessions with a very well respected psychic and friend, Nancy Orlen Weber, and one intense past life experience on the battlefield at Gettysburg.
At age 8, I became obsessed with knights, armor, and particularly the Crusades. Nancy was able to take me back to that period of time to discover a past life as a military participant in the Crusades, but nothing more specific than that.
About two years later, I became fixated on WWII aviation. Always a vociferous reader above my current grade level, I devoured every book I could about the subject, drew pictures of WWII planes, collected all the information I could, bought US war surplus items from the period, and identified strongly with that time period as well. It was almost as if I knew what life was like in the 1940's during the war years. About 17-18 years ago, I bought a used book detailing WWII aircraft nose art. There were hundreds of photos of decorated US aircraft, with paragraphs showing bombers primarily, many of which were lost on raids over Germany and other countries. I began carrying the book around with me and studying it every spare minute. It was beginning to disturb my life profoundly. I started dreaming about flying in a WWII bomber. It became so severe, I once again had a past life regression with Nancy, and during the session, we learned I was indeed a member of a B-17 bomber crew. My name was Steve, and I was lost on a mission in 1944. Since then, I have made peace with the subject. I will say, the first time I got into a B-17, I walked the entire length of the airplane from cockpit to tail, and when I got that 50 cal. Browning machine gun in my hands at the waist gunner position, I felt strangely at home. I have watched perhaps every single piece of WWII bomber combat footage, and every time I see a US bomber going down, I shudder, thinking about the loss of life.
But the most dramatic experience I had occurred the first time I toured the Gettysburg battlefield in 1991. While doing the auto tour, I passed by the Wheatfield, the site of a terrible struggle on the second day of the battle. It was not a scheduled stop on the tour, but something inside told me to stop the car and get out, which I did. As I walked into the center of that field, a sense of horror overtook me. I began to shake violently. I could hear the rifle and pistol shots, and the sounds of battle. At that moment, I knew I'd been there before. I ran back to the car and held onto the fender to compose myself. The second time I went back to the Wheatfield about a year later, I began to weep, as the same feelings came over me. I instinctively knew something terrible had happened to me there in a past life.
About a month after my first experience in Gettysburg, I met a woman at work who was new to the company. She shook my hand, but held onto it, and said, "Are you into the Civil War?" I answered yes, I am. She said, "You wore blue and got shot in the chest at Gettysburg." I was dumbstruck. I had never met or seen this woman before, and yet, she knew. I never saw or spoke to her again, as I left the company a few weeks later. I wish I could find her.
I hesitate to tell people within my circle of family, friends and acquaintances about these experiences, as I have been met with skepticism, disbelief and scorn on several occasions.
Since 1991, I have returned to Gettysburg, both alone and with family, many times, in fact, we are going back again in two weeks. I always visit the Wheatfield immediately after checking into our hotel, and there are times when I feel a very strong sense of dread and death, and other times, not so much. But every time I go back, I know there's a strong attraction to this one spot on the battlefield. My wife and I have contemplated relocating to the Gettysburg area after retirement. We're no longer tourists. I feel we belong there.
At age 8, I became obsessed with knights, armor, and particularly the Crusades. Nancy was able to take me back to that period of time to discover a past life as a military participant in the Crusades, but nothing more specific than that.
About two years later, I became fixated on WWII aviation. Always a vociferous reader above my current grade level, I devoured every book I could about the subject, drew pictures of WWII planes, collected all the information I could, bought US war surplus items from the period, and identified strongly with that time period as well. It was almost as if I knew what life was like in the 1940's during the war years. About 17-18 years ago, I bought a used book detailing WWII aircraft nose art. There were hundreds of photos of decorated US aircraft, with paragraphs showing bombers primarily, many of which were lost on raids over Germany and other countries. I began carrying the book around with me and studying it every spare minute. It was beginning to disturb my life profoundly. I started dreaming about flying in a WWII bomber. It became so severe, I once again had a past life regression with Nancy, and during the session, we learned I was indeed a member of a B-17 bomber crew. My name was Steve, and I was lost on a mission in 1944. Since then, I have made peace with the subject. I will say, the first time I got into a B-17, I walked the entire length of the airplane from cockpit to tail, and when I got that 50 cal. Browning machine gun in my hands at the waist gunner position, I felt strangely at home. I have watched perhaps every single piece of WWII bomber combat footage, and every time I see a US bomber going down, I shudder, thinking about the loss of life.
But the most dramatic experience I had occurred the first time I toured the Gettysburg battlefield in 1991. While doing the auto tour, I passed by the Wheatfield, the site of a terrible struggle on the second day of the battle. It was not a scheduled stop on the tour, but something inside told me to stop the car and get out, which I did. As I walked into the center of that field, a sense of horror overtook me. I began to shake violently. I could hear the rifle and pistol shots, and the sounds of battle. At that moment, I knew I'd been there before. I ran back to the car and held onto the fender to compose myself. The second time I went back to the Wheatfield about a year later, I began to weep, as the same feelings came over me. I instinctively knew something terrible had happened to me there in a past life.
About a month after my first experience in Gettysburg, I met a woman at work who was new to the company. She shook my hand, but held onto it, and said, "Are you into the Civil War?" I answered yes, I am. She said, "You wore blue and got shot in the chest at Gettysburg." I was dumbstruck. I had never met or seen this woman before, and yet, she knew. I never saw or spoke to her again, as I left the company a few weeks later. I wish I could find her.
I hesitate to tell people within my circle of family, friends and acquaintances about these experiences, as I have been met with skepticism, disbelief and scorn on several occasions.
Since 1991, I have returned to Gettysburg, both alone and with family, many times, in fact, we are going back again in two weeks. I always visit the Wheatfield immediately after checking into our hotel, and there are times when I feel a very strong sense of dread and death, and other times, not so much. But every time I go back, I know there's a strong attraction to this one spot on the battlefield. My wife and I have contemplated relocating to the Gettysburg area after retirement. We're no longer tourists. I feel we belong there.
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