Is this seat taken?
My tummy fluttered with excitement as I boarded the plane, still buzzing from my trip.
But, as I reached my seat, I noticed a woman was already sitting in it.
‘I’ll just politely ask her to move,’ I thought.
But as I went to speak, it hit me.
She wasn’t a fellow passenger – she was a spirit!
It was May 2010, I was heading home from Sweden after visiting world-renowned spiritualist medium, the late Colin Fry’s retreat.
Ghost ride
A full plane, I wondered how I’d fly back to Manchester airport with a ghost in my chair…
Not wanting to make a fuss, I plonked myself down.
Sitting right through the spirit lady!
A well-built, elderly woman, she looked so solid. But the only sign I was sharing my seat with a ghost were draughts of cold air flowing over me.
After the plane took off, I got chatting to the young lady in the seat beside me. In her early 30s, she told me she’d been visiting her boyfriend.
As we talked, the spirit lady whispered in my ear.
‘She’s my daughter,’ she clearly announced.
Hesitating, I then took a deep breath…
‘I’m a spirit medium and I think I’ve got your mum with me,’ I explained gently.
In shock
Her mouth opened as she stared at me in shock.
‘Her name’s Dorothy,’ I continued. ‘ She died suddenly of a heart attack last January.’
‘That’s her!’ the woman gasped.
‘Your mum approves of your new man,’ I smiled. ‘She says he’s good to you.’
Dorothy revealed her daughter’s boyfriend wanted her to move to Sweden to be with him, but she was unsure.
However, Dorothy had no reservations.
‘Your mum’s telling you to go for it!’ I told the woman. ‘Upsticks for Sweden.’
‘Tell Mum thank you,’ she said.
Spirit whispers
And, when the plane landed, she took my hand.
‘I didn’t believe in the spirit world, but I do now,’ she said.
Dorothy isn’t the only spirit I’ve encountered on my travels.
Two years later, me, my
friend Barry and my wife Andrea, 47, were flying back from Alicante, following a trip to Spain.
Suddenly, a spirit started whispering to me. ‘I’m Irene,’ she announced. ‘Hello, love,’ I answered silently and calmly.
I knew she must have come to speak to the woman sitting next to me.
‘Was your mum called Irene?’ I asked her. Astonished, she nodded. Chatty, Irene spent the
whole flight giving me messages for her delighted daughter. I didn’t even get to eat!
Old soldiers
It isn’t just while I’m travelling that I pick up on spirits. They come through to me while I’m on holiday, too.
In April 2004, me, Barry and Andrea were on the Caribbean island of St Kitts for a friend’s wedding.
While there, we visited Brimstone Hill, a fort held under siege during the AngloFrench War in the 1700s.
Hundreds of soldiers, French and British, lost their lives.
As we drove our hire car towards the fort, I went into a trance. During it, I channelled the spirit of a garrison commander. ‘We could see his face transfigured over yours,’ Barry said when I was myself again. And, walking round, the spirits of soldiers killed during the siege took me over. They told me names, which we later saw on placards to commemorate the fallen troops. But, disturbingly, I could also feel how they died. I picked up on their pain, despair and fear. Eventually, I couldn’t take it any more. ‘I have to go,’ I said. Back at our villa, I picked up a pad and pencil from the bookcase. Sitting down, my hand started moving of its own accord across the paper. I stared as face after face appeared, as I channelled sketches of spirits!
Passed away
Later that evening, a local bus driver came to pick us up to take us to a nearby restaurant.
Desperate to know who the faces were, I showed him the drawings.
‘I recognise these people,’ he told me, stunned.
I’d been drawing villagers who’d passed away!
Ectoplasm
Another time, in June 2005, when Andrea and I were in Paris, I fell asleep reading a book about mediumship.
In the early hours, the book fell off the bed, waking me.
The room was filling with white, steam-like ectoplasm, as if a kettle was boiling.
Looking at my chest, I realised it was coming from my solar plexus chakra.
Spirits’ hands and faces appeared in the ectoplasm.
Then it whooshed back into my chest, disappeared.
When I picked up the book it had fallen open on a page titled You are a physical medium.
‘You can say that again,’ I laughed to myself.
I’m blessed
As a spirit medium, I spend my life surrounded by spirits.
Speaking to them is part of who I am, and I can’t switch it off while I am away.
But my gift is a blessing, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
To contact David, visit his Facebook page Spirit Medium David Traynor.