My first experience of psychic abilities began at a very young age. Many a night would I lie in bed aware of footsteps, seemingly coming up the stairs and along the landing. On occasions, these noises were accompanied with voices, which were hardly intelligble. As a young lad, the realisation that there was no one there at the time of the noises was quite un-nerving, and subsequently developed Achluophobia (Fear of Darkness). At the age of 8, whilst staying at my Aunts old Victorian house, I had my first sighting of a ghost. Whilst in my room, what appeared to be an arm reached for something from behind the door. What makes this a ghost? I hear you say. The answer being that the arm was very vivid, but also transparent. I later discovered that within the same house a suicide had occured before my Aunt moved in.

With my ability, on many occasions, I got the feeling of Deja Vu and memories of events and buildings in and around my hometown of Grimsby, events and buildings that occured long before I was born. At the time, verification of information given by myself was confirmed by my parents, who had good general knowledge of the local area. Coming from a good Christian background, much of my experiences as a young lad were, shall we say, swept under the carpet. It wasn't until my early twenties when I began looking very deeply into the spirtualist movement and the happenings after the transition which we call physical death, a decision made following the devastating and sudden death of my Father. I also discovered that a favourite Aunt had similar abilities, and ignoring my Christian background, approached my Aunt for a long conversation on her experiences. Very little new arose from the conversation, with my Aunt being reluctant to divulge into details due to the implications with my parents. During our talk, I was told that my Aunt had previously attended a Spirtualist Church, and after the death of my father, made plans to attend one myself along with my Aunt. As my first experience of a Spirtualist Church, I approached the night with much trepidation. Throughout the night whilst sat amongst the congregation, the leading speaker came forward to myself with a message. With accurate detail, he began to relay details of the passing of my father, including how he died, the time of day that he died and the very clothes he was wearing when he passed. There was also a personal message for my Mother given, as well as reference to a Monk that would guide me as I began my pathway into providing messages from those that have passed.