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Bond between parent, child spans hundreds of miles in tragedy

4 min read

Several editors sitting at the luncheon table at a recent newspaper conference were discussing news stories of the day. Tornadoes had cut a path of death and destruction through the Midwest the day before. One of the editors, a person of impeccable reputation for reliability, said the storms reminded him of the day more than 20 years ago when he experienced his only encounter with the paranormal.

On that particular spring day, he was attending another newspaper luncheon conference in the eastern part of the state. There was a commotion in the room. He said editors from the western newspapers were getting up and leaving the room.

Someone at his table said to the others that there must be a big news story happening around Pittsburgh. It was at this moment that the editor heard himself say out loud to the others at the table: “It was a tornado. It has destroyed several homes near Pittsburgh. And my son has been seriously injured.”

He said he also felt a brief, cold sensation throughout his body when he made the comment. One of the editors asked how he knew this. He said he responded: “How did I know what?”

When the comment about his son being injured was repeated to him, he said he had no idea why or even what he had just said. Yet, minutes later in the hallway, another person asked about the storm near Pittsburgh. He said he heard himself repeat the same information, almost like he was hearing someone else say the words.

After calling home, his wife told him a tornado had destroyed an area north of Pittsburgh. Their son’s home had been hit and destroyed. Their son, his wife and their 2-year-old baby were missing.

He said rescuers later found his son alive, but seriously injured, trapped and cold under tons of debris soaked by the rainstorm. He later checked on the time the storm hit with the time of the luncheon where he had blurted out the information about his son being hurt. They matched.

His son was in a coma for several days, suffering from severe head injuries. But he recovered. The wife also was found alive, but seriously injured. The baby was located by rescuers, separated from her mother, but unharmed.

We listened to his story, fascinated by the details. If anyone else had told the tale, the veteran editors around the table that day, accustomed to hearing and writing about supernatural or unusual stories, would have had their serious private doubts about its authenticity.

But, as this editor observed, no one believes in extrasensory perception or other such paranormal powers unless and until it actually happens to them. Then they have no choice but to acknowledge the possibilities, unless they deny their own abilities to reason.

He could offer no logical or reasonable explanation for what occurred to him that day in 1983. He only knew that he knew his son was seriously injured in a storm several hundred miles away at the exact same time it was happening.

It seems every family has a story or two to tell about some unexplained event. One of the more common paranormal or ghost-like incidents told by many people is the whispering of your name while you are alone in a quiet room, maybe while reading a book or working on a hobby of some kind. When you turn around to see who is there, no one is there.

Usually people are reluctant to discuss such incidents, even with close family members. No one wants to appear foolish or even a little unhinged by relating details of such stories which stretch the imagination of the listeners.

The editor’s story fascinated the rest of us. We kept waiting to hear the punch line, for him to tease us about our gullibility for listening to such a story.

But it wasn’t a joke. It was a tragic event for his entire family, one that they knew they were lucky to have survived. One in which the potential depths of the link between a parent and child were revealed.

Mike Ellis is the editor of the Herald-Standard. If you have a supernatural incident you care to share, send him an e-mail: mellis@heraldstandard.com.

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