When Ghosts Speak - Mary Ann Winkowski [7]
Seeing and talking to spirits is a part of my real life and something I’ve done since I was a child. As far as earthbound spirits are concerned, I have an awful lot of experience. One of the producers on the show, exasperated after listening to me complain about the way one of the actors looked in ghostly makeup, suggested that maybe I should write a book to make sure that people know what’s true and what isn’t.
Born out of exasperation or not, it was actually a pretty good idea. Blood may not drip down the walls, and the attic may not be host to swarms of buzzing flies, but the reality is that ghosts are all around us. And more often than not, the truth is much more intriguing than the fiction. This book tells my real-life story—from early-childhood years spent attending funerals with my grandmother to my current day job as a paranormal investigator. I’ll share stories of working with law enforcement, celebrities, sports teams, and completely average folks, all of whom have been amazed at what I can tell them from talking to the spirits who surround them. I’ll discuss the myths and realities of earthbound spirits. And I’ll tell you how you can become more attuned to them and protect yourself, your home, or your family from unwanted visitors.
Since I’ve been working as a paranormal investigator, I’ve watched the fascination with earthbound spirits increase and become mainstream. But along with all the interest, there’s also a lot of misinformation out there. There are things everyone should know about dealing with ghosts, and I’m prepared to tell you about them. In the chapters that follow, I’ll share remarkable stories from my career, as well as practical advice that will help you peacefully coexist with the earthbound spirits who cross your path every day.
1
MY STORY
Discovering a Gift
I HAD HEARD my grandmother tell the story so often that by the time I was grown, it was as if I had my own true memory of the moment I saw my first earthbound spirit. I was just a few months older than two and had been left to stay with Nonna and Nonno (grandmother and grandfather) while my mother was off at the hospital giving birth to my sister. Now, in those days, having a baby wasn’t a drive-through event the way it is today. My mother would be in the hospital for nearly a week, and it wasn’t an option for a father to take time off from work when a baby arrived. So I was dropped off at my grandparents’ house for an extended visit while my parents went off to the hospital.
I’m sure I was happy about staying with my grandparents. As the firstborn grandchild, I occupied a special place in my grandmother’s world. My maternal grandparents were both born in the small village of Caramanica, Italy, near Rome. The women in my grandmother’s family were known and respected for their special abilities. My grandmother, her mother, her mother’s mother—and so on—were sought out by villagers suffering from curses such as the malocchio, evil eye. My grandmother grew up proud of her ability to lift curses. When she and her husband emigrated to the Cleveland area, they happily settled in a neighborhood of Italian immigrants, many from the same or surrounding towns.
In this new country, my grandmother’s abilities became even more important. Transatlantic news traveled slowly, and when my grandparents first arrived in Cleveland, it could be weeks before any kind of tidings arrived from the Old Country. But my grandmother didn’t need to rely on the Caramanica-to-Cleveland mail.
Periodically she would announce that she was experiencing “that feeling.” “Ho pelle de oca,” she’d exclaim, rubbing her arms and showing me the goose bumps. She knew what the eerie sensation meant: That night she would dream of someone, often someone from her hometown or a nearby village. Then she would know that another paesano, countryman, had died.
My grandmother would wake the next morning, and in properly somber fashion, head to the house of whatever relatives were in the neighborhood. Solemnly