Candace Talmadge
7 comments
Image Credit: Wolmadrian Fog spread like misty syrup over the Jamaican mountains. The dark, narrow, twisting road out of Ocho Rios instantly became impassable to all but foot traffic. Yet the taxi carrying Jeff Delgado had to keep driving the 40 miles to St. Joseph Hospital in Kingston--quickly. Without the medical facilities available only at St. Joseph, Jeff would die soon. Doctors suspected he had ruptured the major aorta above his stomach, the biggest blood vessel in his body.
A father of eight and just 40 years old, Jeff was bleeding to death next to his wife on the back seat of the taxi.
Tragedy threatened to end what had begun happily as an appliance sales incentive convention. Jeff, who was to emcee the banquet and ceremonies that night, had been indulging his love for liquor and good times on the beach that afternoon.
Drunk on champagne, he rented a Sunfish even though he knew nothing about sailing. The bay breeze sent the boat all the way out to the main reef, where Jeff realized he was in trouble. He struggled tipsily to turn the boat around. Instead, it capsized and threw him into the water. The boat's gunwale twice whacked Jeff on the side with extreme force as the craft flipped over and over.
Working off pure adrenaline, Jeff managed to catch hold of the back of the boat and a bit of the rigging. Somehow he and the Sunfish floated back onto the beach. Jeff was so weak he had to be carried back to his hotel room, where he evacuated a huge quantity of blood from his bowels.
Terrified, he called his doctor’s office back in Norman, Okla. The nurse ordered him not to lie down, urged him to summon local medical help immediately and even phoned the hotel desk long distance to make sure others knew Jeff was in life-threatening trouble.
A young Jamaican doctor, summoned to Jeff's room, watched in alarm as Jeff evacuated still more blood. He gave Jeff two injections of vitamin K to thicken Jeff's blood to slow the rate of bleeding. The physician next tried to find transport to Kingston. Local residents were so fearful of the fog and the mountains that only one taxi driver could be found who was willing to make the treacherous journey that evening.
As the car negotiated the foothills and the fog closed in, a bearded, shaggy-haired figure appeared at the side of the road. Clad in sandals, cape and baggy work pants, he did not look at all like a native Jamaican. He had arched eyebrows and large hands, "like a carpenter's," Jeff recalls. Climbing onto the cab's front seat, he glanced briefly at Jeff and asked: "Is that man in great pain?"
Jeff was in an almost meditative state at that point and was feeling no pain that he can remember.
The wayfarer then spent the next couple of hours guiding the driver through the fog. He even got out of the cab several times and stood just a few yards ahead, pointing the way safely through the thick swirling mists that obscured everything.
"We couldn't have continued without him," Jeff adds. "There was a steep mountain slope on one side of the road and a precipice on the other."
Finally, the taxi wound down out of the mountains and the fog. The wayfarer asked the driver to stop, got out of the cab and vanished, ever to be seen or heard from again.
By the time Jeff reached the Kingston hospital, he had only 40 percent of normal blood pressure and had to have massive pressurized transfusions. Doctors told him up front that he had no hope of surviving the rest of the night.
They didn't take into consideration a tiny Jamaican nun, however. She talked to Jeff that first night at the hospital and in the days immediately following. She prayed for Jeff to the Virgin Mary and to Saint Joseph in the hospital chapel. The day after she made her supplication, Jeff knew his bleeding had stopped. He was even strong enough to get out of bed.
Jeff's recovery was inexplicable to the doctors in Kingston. When he returned to the United States, Jeff was thoroughly examined at a hospital affiliated with the University of Oklahoma. Physicians there found nothing to indicate life-threatening internal injury--no scars, no lesions. They also could offer no explanations.
One of the most puzzling aspects of Jeff's astonishing healing experience remains the sudden appearance of the wayfarer on that dangerous mountain road and then the wayfarer's subsequent disappearance.
"I'm grateful and impressed," Jeff says. "I don't even pretend to explain it (the wayfarer) other than it was some external--divine--power that made this fulfillment possible."
There are other explanations for the wayfarer: random chance, coincidence, circumstance, and even just dumb good luck or good fortune. Of course. A man just happened to be taking a nighttime stroll along a deserted, remote, fog-isolated mountain road at the exact time a dying person is also on that road and desperately needs help.
Such assertions strain credulity beyond the breaking point. Just as likely an explanation: Jeff's wayfarer was an angel in physical form for a critical mission of love and protection: to assist in Jeff's physical survival.
Also known as spirit guides, angels are messengers of love, faith, hope, and healing, and they are with us for the long haul.
As eternal vibrating essences, also known as souls, we choose for a number of reasons and motivations to return for an earthly presence. We do not have to face physical life alone. We gather to us a group of other vibrating essences to be our friends and remain by our side throughout our physical lifetime and even after that lifetime ends (an event known as “death”). These souls do not take on physical bodies.
When we are very young, we know our angels/guides as our imaginary friends. At least, that’s what our well-meaning parents or teachers tell us they are once we get a bit older. They’re not real, of course. They’re just wishful thinking or the figments of our childish fantasies.
What utter nonsense. Angels/guides are every bit as real as we are. The only difference between us and the angels is we have physical bodies and they do not. Occasionally, however, they can and do assume physical appearances--especially when our physical survival is on the line, as in Jeff's case.
Angels/spirit guides also have many other ways to offer us their love. Future columns will explore some of the other "support" roles they undertake to help us.[!gad]Fog spread like misty syrup over the Jamaican mountains. The dark, narrow, twisting road out of Ocho Rios instantly became impassable to all but foot traffic. Yet the taxi carrying Jeff Delgado had to keep driving the 40 miles to St. Joseph Hospital in Kingston--quickly. Without the medical facilities available only at St. Joseph, Jeff would die soon. Doctors suspected he had ruptured the major aorta above his stomach, the biggest blood vessel in his body.
A father of eight and just 40 years old, Jeff was bleeding to death next to his wife on the back seat of the taxi.
Tragedy threatened to end what had begun happily as an appliance sales incentive convention. Jeff, who was to emcee the banquet and ceremonies that night, had been indulging his love for liquor and good times on the beach that afternoon.
Drunk on champagne, he rented a Sunfish even though he knew nothing about sailing. The bay breeze sent the boat all the way out to the main reef, where Jeff realized he was in trouble. He struggled tipsily to turn the boat around. Instead, it capsized and threw him into the water. The boat's gunwale twice whacked Jeff on the side with extreme force as the craft flipped over and over.
Working off pure adrenaline, Jeff managed to catch hold of the back of the boat and a bit of the rigging. Somehow he and the Sunfish floated back onto the beach. Jeff was so weak he had to be carried back to his hotel room, where he evacuated a huge quantity of blood from his bowels.
Terrified, he called his doctor’s office back in Norman, Okla. The nurse ordered him not to lie down, urged him to summon local medical help immediately and even phoned the hotel desk long distance to make sure others knew Jeff was in life-threatening trouble.
A young Jamaican doctor, summoned to Jeff's room, watched in alarm as Jeff evacuated still more blood. He gave Jeff two injections of vitamin K to thicken Jeff's blood to slow the rate of bleeding. The physician next tried to find transport to Kingston. Local residents were so fearful of the fog and the mountains that only one taxi driver could be found who was willing to make the treacherous journey that evening.
As the car negotiated the foothills and the fog closed in, a bearded, shaggy-haired figure appeared at the side of the road. Clad in sandals, cape and baggy work pants, he did not look at all like a native Jamaican. He had arched eyebrows and large hands, "like a carpenter's," Jeff recalls. Climbing onto the cab's front seat, he glanced briefly at Jeff and asked: "Is that man in great pain?"
Jeff was in an almost meditative state at that point and was feeling no pain that he can remember.
The wayfarer then spent the next couple of hours guiding the driver through the fog. He even got out of the cab several times and stood just a few yards ahead, pointing the way safely through the thick swirling mists that obscured everything.
"We couldn't have continued without him," Jeff adds. "There was a steep mountain slope on one side of the road and a precipice on the other."
Finally, the taxi wound down out of the mountains and the fog. The wayfarer asked the driver to stop, got out of the cab and vanished, ever to be seen or heard from again.
By the time Jeff reached the Kingston hospital, he had only 40 percent of normal blood pressure and had to have massive pressurized transfusions. Doctors told him up front that he had no hope of surviving the rest of the night.
They didn't take into consideration a tiny Jamaican nun, however. She talked to Jeff that first night at the hospital and in the days immediately following. She prayed for Jeff to the Virgin Mary and to Saint Joseph in the hospital chapel. The day after she made her supplication, Jeff knew his bleeding had stopped. He was even strong enough to get out of bed.
Jeff's recovery was inexplicable to the doctors in Kingston. When he returned to the United States, Jeff was thoroughly examined at a hospital affiliated with the University of Oklahoma. Physicians there found nothing to indicate life-threatening internal injury--no scars, no lesions. They also could offer no explanations.
One of the most puzzling aspects of Jeff's astonishing healing experience remains the sudden appearance of the wayfarer on that dangerous mountain road and then the wayfarer's subsequent disappearance.
"I'm grateful and impressed," Jeff says. "I don't even pretend to explain it (the wayfarer) other than it was some external--divine--power that made this fulfillment possible."
There are other explanations for the wayfarer: random chance, coincidence, circumstance, and even just dumb good luck or good fortune. Of course. A man just happened to be taking a nighttime stroll along a deserted, remote, fog-isolated mountain road at the exact time a dying person is also on that road and desperately needs help.
Such assertions strain credulity beyond the breaking point. Just as likely an explanation: Jeff's wayfarer was an angel in physical form for a critical mission of love and protection: to assist in Jeff's physical survival.
Also known as spirit guides, angels are messengers of love, faith, hope, and healing, and they are with us for the long haul.
As eternal vibrating essences, also known as souls, we choose for a number of reasons and motivations to return for an earthly presence. We do not have to face physical life alone. We gather to us a group of other vibrating essences to be our friends and remain by our side throughout our physical lifetime and even after that lifetime ends (an event known as “death”). These souls do not take on physical bodies.
When we are very young, we know our angels/guides as our imaginary friends. At least, that’s what our well-meaning parents or teachers tell us they are once we get a bit older. They’re not real, of course. They’re just wishful thinking or the figments of our childish fantasies.
What utter nonsense. Angels/guides are every bit as real as we are. The only difference between us and the angels is we have physical bodies and they do not. Occasionally, however, they can and do assume physical appearances--especially when our physical survival is on the line, as in Jeff's case.
Angels/spirit guides also have many other ways to offer us their love. Future columns will explore some of the other "support" roles they undertake to help us.
Candace Talmadge writes about the intersection of unexplained mysteries and spirituality. Her blog is StoneScribe (www.healingstonebooks.com/stonescribe) and her speculative fiction is the Green Stone of Healing(r) series (www.greenstoneofhealing.com). Comments (7)
Angel in the mountains helps save man's life
April 29, 2010 | 7 comments
Image Credit: Wolmadrian Fog spread like misty syrup over the Jamaican mountains. The dark, narrow, twisting road out of Ocho Rios instantly became impassable to all but foot traffic. Yet the taxi carrying Jeff Delgado had to keep driving the 40 miles to St. Joseph Hospital in Kingston--quickly. Without the medical facilities available only at St. Joseph, Jeff would die soon. Doctors suspected he had ruptured the major aorta above his stomach, the biggest blood vessel in his body.
A father of eight and just 40 years old, Jeff was bleeding to death next to his wife on the back seat of the taxi.
Tragedy threatened to end what had begun happily as an appliance sales incentive convention. Jeff, who was to emcee the banquet and ceremonies that night, had been indulging his love for liquor and good times on the beach that afternoon.
Drunk on champagne, he rented a Sunfish even though he knew nothing about sailing. The bay breeze sent the boat all the way out to the main reef, where Jeff realized he was in trouble. He struggled tipsily to turn the boat around. Instead, it capsized and threw him into the water. The boat's gunwale twice whacked Jeff on the side with extreme force as the craft flipped over and over.
Working off pure adrenaline, Jeff managed to catch hold of the back of the boat and a bit of the rigging. Somehow he and the Sunfish floated back onto the beach. Jeff was so weak he had to be carried back to his hotel room, where he evacuated a huge quantity of blood from his bowels.
Terrified, he called his doctor’s office back in Norman, Okla. The nurse ordered him not to lie down, urged him to summon local medical help immediately and even phoned the hotel desk long distance to make sure others knew Jeff was in life-threatening trouble.
A young Jamaican doctor, summoned to Jeff's room, watched in alarm as Jeff evacuated still more blood. He gave Jeff two injections of vitamin K to thicken Jeff's blood to slow the rate of bleeding. The physician next tried to find transport to Kingston. Local residents were so fearful of the fog and the mountains that only one taxi driver could be found who was willing to make the treacherous journey that evening.
As the car negotiated the foothills and the fog closed in, a bearded, shaggy-haired figure appeared at the side of the road. Clad in sandals, cape and baggy work pants, he did not look at all like a native Jamaican. He had arched eyebrows and large hands, "like a carpenter's," Jeff recalls. Climbing onto the cab's front seat, he glanced briefly at Jeff and asked: "Is that man in great pain?"
Jeff was in an almost meditative state at that point and was feeling no pain that he can remember.
The wayfarer then spent the next couple of hours guiding the driver through the fog. He even got out of the cab several times and stood just a few yards ahead, pointing the way safely through the thick swirling mists that obscured everything.
"We couldn't have continued without him," Jeff adds. "There was a steep mountain slope on one side of the road and a precipice on the other."
Finally, the taxi wound down out of the mountains and the fog. The wayfarer asked the driver to stop, got out of the cab and vanished, ever to be seen or heard from again.
By the time Jeff reached the Kingston hospital, he had only 40 percent of normal blood pressure and had to have massive pressurized transfusions. Doctors told him up front that he had no hope of surviving the rest of the night.
They didn't take into consideration a tiny Jamaican nun, however. She talked to Jeff that first night at the hospital and in the days immediately following. She prayed for Jeff to the Virgin Mary and to Saint Joseph in the hospital chapel. The day after she made her supplication, Jeff knew his bleeding had stopped. He was even strong enough to get out of bed.
Jeff's recovery was inexplicable to the doctors in Kingston. When he returned to the United States, Jeff was thoroughly examined at a hospital affiliated with the University of Oklahoma. Physicians there found nothing to indicate life-threatening internal injury--no scars, no lesions. They also could offer no explanations.
One of the most puzzling aspects of Jeff's astonishing healing experience remains the sudden appearance of the wayfarer on that dangerous mountain road and then the wayfarer's subsequent disappearance.
"I'm grateful and impressed," Jeff says. "I don't even pretend to explain it (the wayfarer) other than it was some external--divine--power that made this fulfillment possible."
There are other explanations for the wayfarer: random chance, coincidence, circumstance, and even just dumb good luck or good fortune. Of course. A man just happened to be taking a nighttime stroll along a deserted, remote, fog-isolated mountain road at the exact time a dying person is also on that road and desperately needs help.
Such assertions strain credulity beyond the breaking point. Just as likely an explanation: Jeff's wayfarer was an angel in physical form for a critical mission of love and protection: to assist in Jeff's physical survival.
Also known as spirit guides, angels are messengers of love, faith, hope, and healing, and they are with us for the long haul.
As eternal vibrating essences, also known as souls, we choose for a number of reasons and motivations to return for an earthly presence. We do not have to face physical life alone. We gather to us a group of other vibrating essences to be our friends and remain by our side throughout our physical lifetime and even after that lifetime ends (an event known as “death”). These souls do not take on physical bodies.
When we are very young, we know our angels/guides as our imaginary friends. At least, that’s what our well-meaning parents or teachers tell us they are once we get a bit older. They’re not real, of course. They’re just wishful thinking or the figments of our childish fantasies.
What utter nonsense. Angels/guides are every bit as real as we are. The only difference between us and the angels is we have physical bodies and they do not. Occasionally, however, they can and do assume physical appearances--especially when our physical survival is on the line, as in Jeff's case.
Angels/spirit guides also have many other ways to offer us their love. Future columns will explore some of the other "support" roles they undertake to help us.[!gad]Fog spread like misty syrup over the Jamaican mountains. The dark, narrow, twisting road out of Ocho Rios instantly became impassable to all but foot traffic. Yet the taxi carrying Jeff Delgado had to keep driving the 40 miles to St. Joseph Hospital in Kingston--quickly. Without the medical facilities available only at St. Joseph, Jeff would die soon. Doctors suspected he had ruptured the major aorta above his stomach, the biggest blood vessel in his body.
A father of eight and just 40 years old, Jeff was bleeding to death next to his wife on the back seat of the taxi.
Tragedy threatened to end what had begun happily as an appliance sales incentive convention. Jeff, who was to emcee the banquet and ceremonies that night, had been indulging his love for liquor and good times on the beach that afternoon.
Drunk on champagne, he rented a Sunfish even though he knew nothing about sailing. The bay breeze sent the boat all the way out to the main reef, where Jeff realized he was in trouble. He struggled tipsily to turn the boat around. Instead, it capsized and threw him into the water. The boat's gunwale twice whacked Jeff on the side with extreme force as the craft flipped over and over.
Working off pure adrenaline, Jeff managed to catch hold of the back of the boat and a bit of the rigging. Somehow he and the Sunfish floated back onto the beach. Jeff was so weak he had to be carried back to his hotel room, where he evacuated a huge quantity of blood from his bowels.
Terrified, he called his doctor’s office back in Norman, Okla. The nurse ordered him not to lie down, urged him to summon local medical help immediately and even phoned the hotel desk long distance to make sure others knew Jeff was in life-threatening trouble.
A young Jamaican doctor, summoned to Jeff's room, watched in alarm as Jeff evacuated still more blood. He gave Jeff two injections of vitamin K to thicken Jeff's blood to slow the rate of bleeding. The physician next tried to find transport to Kingston. Local residents were so fearful of the fog and the mountains that only one taxi driver could be found who was willing to make the treacherous journey that evening.
As the car negotiated the foothills and the fog closed in, a bearded, shaggy-haired figure appeared at the side of the road. Clad in sandals, cape and baggy work pants, he did not look at all like a native Jamaican. He had arched eyebrows and large hands, "like a carpenter's," Jeff recalls. Climbing onto the cab's front seat, he glanced briefly at Jeff and asked: "Is that man in great pain?"
Jeff was in an almost meditative state at that point and was feeling no pain that he can remember.
The wayfarer then spent the next couple of hours guiding the driver through the fog. He even got out of the cab several times and stood just a few yards ahead, pointing the way safely through the thick swirling mists that obscured everything.
"We couldn't have continued without him," Jeff adds. "There was a steep mountain slope on one side of the road and a precipice on the other."
Finally, the taxi wound down out of the mountains and the fog. The wayfarer asked the driver to stop, got out of the cab and vanished, ever to be seen or heard from again.
By the time Jeff reached the Kingston hospital, he had only 40 percent of normal blood pressure and had to have massive pressurized transfusions. Doctors told him up front that he had no hope of surviving the rest of the night.
They didn't take into consideration a tiny Jamaican nun, however. She talked to Jeff that first night at the hospital and in the days immediately following. She prayed for Jeff to the Virgin Mary and to Saint Joseph in the hospital chapel. The day after she made her supplication, Jeff knew his bleeding had stopped. He was even strong enough to get out of bed.
Jeff's recovery was inexplicable to the doctors in Kingston. When he returned to the United States, Jeff was thoroughly examined at a hospital affiliated with the University of Oklahoma. Physicians there found nothing to indicate life-threatening internal injury--no scars, no lesions. They also could offer no explanations.
One of the most puzzling aspects of Jeff's astonishing healing experience remains the sudden appearance of the wayfarer on that dangerous mountain road and then the wayfarer's subsequent disappearance.
"I'm grateful and impressed," Jeff says. "I don't even pretend to explain it (the wayfarer) other than it was some external--divine--power that made this fulfillment possible."
There are other explanations for the wayfarer: random chance, coincidence, circumstance, and even just dumb good luck or good fortune. Of course. A man just happened to be taking a nighttime stroll along a deserted, remote, fog-isolated mountain road at the exact time a dying person is also on that road and desperately needs help.
Such assertions strain credulity beyond the breaking point. Just as likely an explanation: Jeff's wayfarer was an angel in physical form for a critical mission of love and protection: to assist in Jeff's physical survival.
Also known as spirit guides, angels are messengers of love, faith, hope, and healing, and they are with us for the long haul.
As eternal vibrating essences, also known as souls, we choose for a number of reasons and motivations to return for an earthly presence. We do not have to face physical life alone. We gather to us a group of other vibrating essences to be our friends and remain by our side throughout our physical lifetime and even after that lifetime ends (an event known as “death”). These souls do not take on physical bodies.
When we are very young, we know our angels/guides as our imaginary friends. At least, that’s what our well-meaning parents or teachers tell us they are once we get a bit older. They’re not real, of course. They’re just wishful thinking or the figments of our childish fantasies.
What utter nonsense. Angels/guides are every bit as real as we are. The only difference between us and the angels is we have physical bodies and they do not. Occasionally, however, they can and do assume physical appearances--especially when our physical survival is on the line, as in Jeff's case.
Angels/spirit guides also have many other ways to offer us their love. Future columns will explore some of the other "support" roles they undertake to help us.
Candace Talmadge writes about the intersection of unexplained mysteries and spirituality. Her blog is StoneScribe (www.healingstonebooks.com/stonescribe) and her speculative fiction is the Green Stone of Healing(r) series (www.greenstoneofhealing.com). Comments (7)
<< Previous story
The mystery of the Chase Family Vault
The mystery of the Chase Family Vault
Next story >>
A protective presence and one angel
A protective presence and one angel
United States and the Americas
Israel, Palestine and the Middle-East
Natural World
Space: Astronomy and Astrophysics
Total Posts: 7,768,005 Topics: 325,013 Members: 203,758
Not a member yet ? Click here to join - registration is free and only takes a moment!
Not a member yet ? Click here to join - registration is free and only takes a moment!
1 week
2 weeks
3 weeks
1 month
Top | Home | Forum
News | Columns | Encyclopedia
UM 11.2 Unexplained-Mysteries.com (c) 2001-2025
Terms | Privacy Policy | Cookies | Contact
News | Columns | Encyclopedia
UM 11.2 Unexplained-Mysteries.com (c) 2001-2025
Terms | Privacy Policy | Cookies | Contact
Please Login or Register to post a comment.