In 1968, in a suburban town of Sydney as a child of just three years of age, I had experienced my first paranormal account. I was at my grandfather's funeral standing several metres away from a congregation of mourners, a little detached and oblivious to the ceremony itself. I did not really understand what was going on!
Gazing at a distance behind a family of mourners entailing a seabed of headstones, a couple of birds whistling overhead, a few scattered trees and a clear blue sky. Suddenly, something caught my attention!...I saw what I can only describe as this three foot tall imp looking figure not really human per se, although granted in shape with arms and legs and dark looking in nature, its resemblance was not too far off? It was scampering behind a domino of headstones, zigzagging itself from row to row. Perhaps, in vain, to avoid my attention, reflecting on this account later on?
As I was not really engaged in anything else, this odd looking creature had by now gained my full focus and attention and at some point, it came to a complete halt behind a headstone, perhaps ten metres away from where I was standing. It had completely obscured itself from my view and, for a few long seconds looking towards the headstone of which it was hiding behind), I was a little confused as about who, why or what it was doing?
A short while later, perhaps by its own nature of curiosity, this odd looking creature decided to take a closer look at me. As it tilted its head aside from the headstone, both of us made direct eye to eye contact, with my own intuition of curiosity suddenly turning to one of fear. It frightened me to such a degree I ran towards my mother gripping her legs and crying, somewhat shaken by my account.
With mothers doing what they know best, she cradled me in close quarters, calming down the flow of tears and eventually subsiding my thoughts on this account with an odd looking creature, although long ago still not forgotten.
August 2, 2014, 46 years later and standing in close-proximity to where I was as a boy all those years ago. The congregation of mourners long gone, including my dear mother, of whom is buried to rest not far from where I am standing on this fresh August morning. Not a lot has changed as I scour the scenery once more. Although some of the headstones have sunken slightly to their side and the birds overhead are many generations of ancestors later, I have always wondered about this account and what it was I saw? Your thoughts would be most welcomed!
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