Helping Duke-Part 4-The Event

THE EVENT

Part 4

Major Bert Cowden served his country at great cost. He was in two helicopter crashes and a car accident. He moved his family to Satellite Beach, Florida, after receiving 100% disability  designation.

By all accounts in the paper (and there are numerous articles as it made National news) the pain that he endured was intolerable.

On the morning of December 13 (1971)  Major Cowden shot all of his family members, in their beds. He, then, called police dispatch, said there had been a shooting, and shot himself in the temple, while he was on the phone.

That is how my friend, Duke died.

If there were services, I did not attend them.

I suspect, with such a large family, they were Catholic, but I do not know for sure.

Later, in an obituary article (found by a Satellite High classmate) I learned that they were Baptists. 

Helping Duke-Part 3- About Duke

About Duke

Part 3

I don't remember a great deal about Duke. The truth be known, upon the writing of this, I don't even, really remember what he looked like. What I do remember, seems to be in context of "home room" and the people there.

I remember he was tall. Not just taller than me (which, at the time-was not much of an accomplishment), taller than most of the other boys in class. Which, as it turns out, is a preference of mine.  I remember a  shock of hair curtaining his forehead, toward the right side of his face.

 My mother used to call this a "Kennedy part".

I remember he was mostly quiet.  I remember (for some reason) he was kind to me but I don't remember how, exactly.

Routinely I was picked on because I was very small for my age. Some teachers treated me as though I was fragile. Some students incited to call out "midget!" and "munchkin" as I passed. What I remember of my interaction with Duke, none of those expletives came from him. In fact, when Duke began talking to me...there were no more of those names directed my way.

I do remember one incident where I was talking to him and offered him a piece of candy. Knowing my predilections, it was likely a lifesaver--because I believed those commercials that they would "make you feel better", or maybe tic tacs that I always had in my purse.  I remember a smile from him.

Everything else I know about him, I have learned recently.

He was born in March (like me) March 1, 1959. His father was a Major. He was the eldest in a large family of 2 parents and 4 children.

The family had recently moved from Texas.  

Duke died on December 13th, 1971 and is entered, with his family, in Fountainhead Memorial Park, Palm Bay, FL.

There is no picture of him, (that I could find) in our year book, that year.

Helping Duke-Part 2 Prequel

PART 2-Prequel

December is usually a lovely month in Florida.  My friends usually donned light sweaters and jackets, and sometimes, there was a nip in the air.

This one Monday morning, December 13th, 1971 did not begin as ordinary  weeks began, in Satellite Beach. A very small and quiet, beach community, Monday mornings were much the same: quiet and small. But not this Monday morning.

 I was gathering things for school when there were lots of sirens, that were filling the air.

They sounded as though they were on the street behind us (I , later learned, they nearly were).

I remember my mother quipping that a "cat must have gotten caught up a tree" (to cause such commotion in our quiet town).

 One of my first classes  took place in our library. I remember there was an "electric humm" in the room, of people talking. The girl next to me told me a story of a man down the street shooting and killing his entire family.   I thought she was telling me about something that happened some time ago. But she clarified that it had happened that morning.

Turning into my own thoughts, it clicked. "Oh" (I thought) "That is what all the sirens were about".  I recall, throughout the day that I would run into fragments of the story, at lunch and before class commenced.  I found it deeply sad and sort of incomprehensible.

It haunted me, but didn't really touch me, until a few days later.

  In home room, I had a arrived a bit early to Mr. Moll's classroom. Homeroom, really wasn't a wonderful thing. It was upstairs and , announcements and attendance taken. Now that I think of it, I found it a bother. As I arrived in the classroom, two boys were taking chairs down from tables. One boy pointed took a chair down and pointed to the chair and announced emphatically "I'm not ever sitting in THAT chair. THAT chair belongs to a dead boy!"  I remember my gaze revolving up to him and saying "What? What are you talking about?" I'm not sure if I said it, but I do remember thinking "That's Duke's chair".

Mr. Moll seemed incensed and insulted by the proclamation and said "That's ENOUGH!"

I remember my eyes resting on Mr. Moll, who, (now that I think of it) oddly, looked back at me.

 I think I said nothing else. I think I looked down at my books.  Mr. Moll didn't want to clarify and he didn't want anyone else talking about it either.

 If anything of note happened the rest of that day, I don't remember it.

 I do recall several "post scripts" to this story, however.

 My mother worked for "Virginia Fried Chicken" and many of the teen-agers gathered there. My brother and sister (9 and 8 years older than me) were friends with many of the teens that worked there as well. There was a conversation after that day, that I remember.

One of the  larger young men said he was considering taking a "job". It seems the family of the deceased family needed someone to clean the house. They were going to sell it. They were going to pay $500. to whomever took on the task. The young man said he didn't believe it would "bother him" because he "didn't know the family".

Another post-post script-

As I said , Satellite Beach was then a small community. My sister and brother went to High School with the daughter of one of the police offers on Satellite Beach Police force.

 It happens, that I attended school with their younger brother. Many years later, this son mentioned his father was the official photographer for the crime scene.

"There were way too many photographs for dad to process by himself. " He had helped his father process photographs, but really didn't remember most of the images.

I count that as a blessing.

Helping Duke Part 1

Helping Duke

Part 1 The Tower

It (sort of) began on June 2, 2018. A very small group of friends went to Orlando for a Seance.

Actually, my first seance (as a sitter). I had conducted trance-sessions and communicated with the departed most of my life. But this time, I was going to listen and experience what other's experience.

I wasn't truly prepared for the journey on which I would embark, after this evening.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

A very long evening with long-time friend, Astrologer, Tarot Reader and medium, Dikki-Jo Mullen, proved fruitful for most attending, and kind of vexing (and fascinating) for me.

At the end of the evening, she pulled out her Rider/Waite Tarot Cards.

I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself.

She went around the circle of 8 people, and said "If there's someone you wanted to hear from, whom you did NOT hear from, I will pull a card for you, for a message from them.

She started on the other side of her, which made me the last. I had a lot of time to

think of who I wanted to hear from. But just before she got to me, my mind went blank, but

for one name: Duke.

I don't truly remember what I told her about Duke's circumstances, but I'm sure it was sad and disastrous. (just like the circumstances of Duke's passing).

 Dikki-Jo pulled out a card, and it was The Tower. She was ardent in her description.

"Some people think the worst card in the Tarot is the Devil, but I think it's THIS card."

she began. "Duke's family has been in a cycle of violence through many life-times. ".

I remember nodding, sort of helplessly. The card and her words imprinted on my mind.

Over the days, weeks, months that followed, I couldn't shake the sad feeling that I had over my (long-ago) friend.

Tuning Forks and Touching Tarot Cards

Tuning Forks and Touching Tarot Cards!
Walt and I have been known for our "weekend adventures" (in the past). One weekend, following Rachel Ray's Visiting Orlando and eating for under $40, another visiting Casselberry's nightclub and seeing Macbeth in the nude.
Over the last few years, that slowed to a trickle and last year came to a screeching halt. So many dangers in the forest of our present day lives had led us to seek refuge in our own cocoon, and there (for the most part) we have stayed.
Imagine my surprise, when, twice (within two weeks) we found ourselves venturing to Orlando. Two weeks ago, we were in Orlando to attend a seance with long-time friend Dikki-jo Mullen. This weekend, visiting a brand new Tarot friend, Veronica Jude.
Veronica Jude has a Youtube channel which centers around (but not limited to) modified Tarot decks. It was Veronica (or "V" as she identifies herself on her videos) who inspired me to make a square deck of my (spare) Universal Waite Tarot deck. So this week past, I made an appointment for a reading with Veronica Jude.
To be perfectly transparent, I wanted to ask her how she "made" her own Tarot deck. I wanted an "in-person" look at her 8 of coins modified deck. I wanted to see her do her "Majors on Majors" Tarot spread. Any other insights I received from the experience, (in my estimation) would be finite and...quite frankly...gravy.
But I was surprised twice in as many weekends at the resplendent joy I experienced meeting and receiving a reading from the kinetic , kinesthetic and compassionate Veronica Jude.
After we arrived, she escorted us upstairs to a loft room, dominated with a poker table and bins and stacks of Tarot cards. The walls had much poker-phenalia.
On the poker table (Veronica's husband is a poker enthusiast) were, I think 8 Tarot decks, as well as her Tarot Journal (I KNOW that's her Tarot Journal from her youtube channel videos). After her requisite 100 apologies and explanations about why I was receiving a reading on the poker table in the loft (none was necessary--I've had readings in far less friendly circumstances) I was told where to sit. The poker chip cup where I was to sit was filled with stones, crystals. I found it heart-warming. I was offered a small notebook for note-taking on my reading, and found a pen. LOVED that...and need to fold that into my own reading offerings.
She asked me to choose a deck with which she would conduct my reading.
I chose her (much video'd and slightly notorious) 8 of coins modified Tarot deck.
She explained that this deck had been many places, at the beach, for example. Holding it in my hand was like holding a musket ball from Shiloh. It has been through many (internal battles) and obviously, was well run-in. It was a complete tactile experience, when I riffle-shuffled the deck and heard,(instead of the well-known crisp rhythm of new-ish cards) the thuddy sound of cards dropping into a story of divine destiny.
I was lost in the experience of the feel of the cards, the sounds of the card placement and the purple haze of Veronica Jude's Opus de Tarot.
I was dazzled, not only by her Tarot expertise but her tender insight in the events of my life as she revealed 7 Major Arcana cards in my spread for my reading.
Although I will not reveal the content of the reading, I will say, that in my 36 years in the metaphysical industry, it was one of the best Tarot readings I have received. As Walt and I drove back and were processing our experience, he was telling me of what HE learned from my reading. I was expressing that I (now) understand, when I'm finished with a reading and people say "time went by so fast", as that was my experience with this reading.
Walt described (as the reading commenced) that he realized that we were "two tuning forks" vibrating at the same level. He expressed that she is "very much like you". Touching the cards, stroking the cards, adjusting the cards as she spoke. Making hexagrams with her gestures as she was relating Tarot pairs with other Tarot pairs in the geography of her story.
I found Veronica to be open in the communication of her own struggles, which in many ways, mirrored my own Not the least stingy in the opening of her soul-experiences.
By the time nearing the ending of the reading, she asked if I wanted to use another deck or where we were going with the reading. I think this might have been the time she would (ordinarily) conduct the famed "Majors on Majors" spread that I was eagerly anticipating (on the trip over) and was but a fading memory in the rear view mirror of my minds wants. By this time, I willingly put myself entirely in her hands for the remnant of the reading.
As long-time mentor Stan Marsh (south park) would intone at this point; "I learned something today". Unlike Dr. Phil's damning repetitive gong..."the best predictor of future (behavior) is past behavior". For me, the experience of future experience, is not always past experiences (with Tarot readers...et...all).
I had confirmed that I am (still) not too old to learn something new.
and, if you're willing to be "in tune" ...harmony could be just around the corner.
Until Next time,
eat something wonderful
and live a life worth loving.
_Kim

Seance on A Saturday Night 2018

Séance in June 2018

For (nearly) a year, I've wanted to attend a Séance conducted by my (long-time) friend Dikki-Jo Mullen. I saw on her Facebook Page (I think last October) that she was conducting "Victorian-style Séances" in her home in Orlando, Florida.

We were unable to attend, then. But recently gathered a group for the so-journ into Downtown Orlando for a Séance on a Saturday night.

One of our quartet had attended a Séance in Chesterfield (Spiritualist Camp, Indiana). The rest of us were uninitiated.

Well, I say un-initiated. I have conducted "transe-sessions" where I go into a transe=state and spirit guides speak through me. Walt has attended those sessions.

So we aren't completely without some spirit experience. However, I had never attended one as a "sitter" or participant. So I was very excited.

I was also very excited to see my long-time friend, Dikki-Jo, whom I hadn't seen in person, for decades.

Sparing you most of the biennale details, it was a sweet time with spirit, and Dikki-jo a congenial host and medium with an exquisite gift.

Dikki-Jo's home is the perfect environment (save one small issue) for conducting old-style Séances. The home was built in the 1940's. The walls repeat with artworks and Astrology and mystic curiosities. Throw pillows with images from Tarot cards adorn the vintage couch. A portrait of "Gypsy Dikki-Jo" adorns a wall, directly across from a portrait of her grandmother, also a spirit medium.

The Séance Room, likewise appointed, with an oval oak table (which seats 10 people), and 3/4's of the walls fitted with little shelves. On the shelves, something I haven't seen in years. Dikki-jo called it her "inheritence". There must be nearly 1000 "salt and pepper" shakers, mostly ceramic and china. You know the kind, with two "love birds together" or other such vignettes.

At each place for the sitters, there was an artisan piece of jewelry, beautiful quaint pieces, that were gifts for each person. Along with that a votive candle (blessed with lavender oil) to bring home and use in one's own "spirit communication ritual".

After all were gathered and snacks proffered, we were escorted into the Séance room, where Dikki-jo engaged in educating us about the traditions of Séance and spiritualism. Although I have known her for a very long time (since the early  '80's) I did not know that she comes from a long line of spiritualist. Her family engaged in Séances (at least) once a week with neighbors and friends.

Then, beginning the work at hand, Dikki-jo donned her grandmother's apron and we began the ritual to call the spirits to us.

 An antique bell, a Séance trumpet  and a small dish of talc powder to monitor the presence of the spirits, and I was in a salon in Old spiritualist home with long passed friends. Messages given, with descriptions for the spirits giving them, were lavish and effusive.  Friends in our group were receiving messages from family members and friends, as were for the family of sitters and new companions on our spirit experience.

Mentioning a few surprises, or maybe, some things I did not expect, and really, for which I had not prepared. Artworks that I have seen of Victorian sitting rooms with sitters awaiting messages of spirit, all have the ladies with beautiful, lace-like hand-fans. I really could have used one of those. The 1940's house in which she lives is not a model of air-cooling efficiency. It wasn't until later, that Dikki-jo said "I usually have these séances in the fall and through the winter" and that is will the tradition to have them at that time up north, that I realized my own error. I thought it might have been because of the sun setting earlier so the dark is friendly. But I think the summer heat is a consideration that I overlooked in making plans to go to this event.

So, like the wicked witch of the west, we were melting...well, all of us except Dikki-jo, who was fresh as a daisy through out the proceedings. I must ask about the secret to that.

My husband got a message from a loud-boisterous man who sang Christmas Carols all through the year. He knew who that was immediately and confessed to me privately (with tears piquing in his eyes) that it really touched his heart to hear from this long-departed relative.

I heard from Grandmother and Aunt (sisters) who "really didn't quite approve" of what I do. But it was , with out a doubt,  them: complete with reference to my Grandma's favorite soap opera's. But I also heard from my mother and my father (God bless them) That was sweet and sad for me.

I didn't expect breaks in the séance (even though I read in her description that there would be). Breaks for refreshment and air. Tea and scones and lemon ice cookies, made for a lovely and comforting repast, along with lime-water. Every so often we would catch a glimpse of Templeton, the white kitty and intrepid traveler and Chizzy the black (and by accounts) naughty, escape artist.

During the spirit visitations I was hearing music and voices coming through the séance trumpet which was positioned behind me. I was seeing spirits moving and spirit faces behind the sitters around the table.  So the messages directed to me were not the only mystical experiences I was having.

There were several messages that , I think could have been for me, or Walt or other members, that, frankly, were claimed too quickly by an eager sitter. Our group (afterwards) said that we were all waiting for Dikki-Jo to complete the description before speaking out. But I don't guess any of us regret not speaking out sooner.

Dikki-jo is a gentle soul who expects the best to come to her. The best spirit messages, the best spirits, the best house guests. She explained at the beginning of the meeting that we don't need to be afraid of the spirits that it is a comforting and uplifting experience and we don't need to be afraid of the spirits that come.

I love that perspective. Too many Hollywood representations of the evil spirits have tainted the space for our beloved departed, I think.

 To close-out the circle, Dikki-Jo did something I've never seen anyone do. You all know what a "Tarotfile" I am...ALL about the Tarot cards. Dikki-jo brought her (well-loved) Rider/Waite Tarot and pulled cards for each sitter, giving messages from one last spirit from whom we might not have heard. I was SO excited to see her cards, and watch her working with them, and I fear, that is something that I am going to have to try.

If you are looking to connect with someone dearly departed, I think this is the (ultimate) way to do it, Tea, scones, an old oak séance table and Dikki-jo as your guide.

But do it during the fall or winter--if you're a wimp like me.

Until next time,

Eat something wonderful

and live a life worth loving.

-Kim