Grandpa's Diary Of His Journey Into Death

Today we are pleased to have Richard Mason as our guest poster on the Paranormal/Supernatural topic.  Richard is a mortgage broker in a large city on the West Coast of the USA.  Richard and his wife, Marcy, have two girls ages 6 and 2.  Richard enjoys sailing, fishing, and sightseeing in the Great Northwest.  Richard and his wife enjoy golfing together whenever they have time with two little girls needing their attention.  Both Richard and Marcy graduated from the University of Washington.  Both are active alums of UW.  Both Richard and Macy plan on an around the world cruise in 2026 on their cutter, the "Sallie Mae." 

 If you have a story to share relating to the paranormal/supernatural, click HERE for details.  Also, to answer many questions, there is no charge for guest posting on the topic of the paranormal/supernatural. 


***Before I start this story, I must start off by saying this story is dissected straight from my grandfather's diary.  Grandpa was a WWII Vet who served in Europe, and later, served in the Pacific Campaign against the Japanese Imperial Forces.  He won several medals that he discussed in his diary.  He kept all of them in his cedar chest which was locked until his death at age 87.  My grandfather was always a practical man, not one that ventured off into "foolishness" as he called anything with which he found out of the norm.  Keep that in mind as you read this story. - RM


It was a shock when my Grandpa passed away some six years ago.  At age 87 and in failing health, it was actually expected.  Expected or not, it was still a shock.  I guess we thought Grandpa would live forever.  As I settled his Will and Estate, I thought my dad should have been doing this.  But, dad was killed in a car accident one stormy night as he was on his way home from the gym in 2010.  Dad was 59 years old.  That hastened my Grandpa's demise as dad and  Grandpa were really close.  I noticed Grandpa had lots of old pictures of him and grandma (passed in 2005).  Grandpa kept a meticulous diary since his time in  Europe during WWII.  Everyone knew about it.  But, no one knew what his diary contained since he kept it under lock and key.  Not even the love of his life, my beloved Grandma, knew what Grandpa kept in his diary.  Two days after his death, I found the key where Grandpa said it would be.  I started reading it in his den the Saturday morning after his burial.  His diary actually started in June of 1943 in England where he was stationed prior to the Normandy Invasion.  Grandpa was in the second wave at Omaha.  He lost a lot of friends that day and the days, weeks and months ahead.  But, I'm not going to get into all that.  I noticed in August of 1949, Grandpa had put his diary entries in red, not the blue inked pen he had been using. The red inked entries were from the second week of August of 1949 to the first week of December in that same year.  There is a good reason for that as you will see as I continue this story.   My Grandpa's diary entries are in italics.  The conversations are in italics and are underlined.

Grandpa's August entries were, to put it mildly, bizarre.  On August 10, 1949, the entry was the following:  "Dear Diary, I died last night.  I know how that sounds, Dear Diary.   But, it's true.  I felt myself floating away as if I was totally without weight.  Everything around me was black.  I remember holding up my right hand to about 2 inches from my eyes and could not see it.  But, the floating sensation continued.   I felt myself picking up speed and I seemed to be speeding feet first into oblivion.  Suddenly, I was standing upright and I was immersed in a tremendous space with billions, if not trillions of other people.  The sound of so many people talking at once was such I had to put my hands to my ears to try to muffle the sound.  But, that had little effect on the roar of such a tremendous crowd.  A man tapped me on the shoulder.  He was short, maybe 5'5 at most.  He motioned for me to cup my ear.  He yelled, "Don't worry.  You'll get used to it.  It only hurts the first time."  The first time?  What was he talking about?  "Where am I," I asked the short little man.   "You'll find out more with each trip you make.  Explaining it to you now would just confuse you more than you are right now," he laughed.  That man then just disappeared into the crowd.  I was left again dazed and totally confused in a crowd of billions of people.  Everyone was talking all at once.  Some seemed to be dressed in European garb of perhaps the 16th Century. Others had on clothing with which I was totally unfamiliar.  Some had no clothing at all.  There were men, women of every age and description.  Incredibly, there were even small children running around.  But, none appeared frightened or concerned at all.  I finally saw one man who was focused on me very intently.  I walked in his direction and asked, "Can you please tell me where I am?  And how long will I be here?"I can't answer the second question for you, sir.  But, as for the first question, you are at The Gathering of the Dead."  With that statement, I immediately woke up.  My beloved Nancy was still beside me lightly snoring.  Whoever reads this someday, make no mistake about it.  This was not a nightmare.  It was real.  I don't know how else to explain it.

The second entry was more of the same.  Grandpa at a huge place, billions of people gathered together for what purpose, Grandpa had no idea.  After reading his entries, I am of the opinion Grandpa honestly believed he had died over and over.  Maybe he was being granted a chance to see where the dead are before going to their final destination.  Or, what many of you are probably thinking, Grandpa was in purgatory.  We are not Catholic.  We are mostly United Methodists in our family.  So, whether he was in purgatory has been a great debate in our family for the past six years. The third entry was made on August 14, 1949.  He made the second entry on the 11th.  I will post the third entry that starts to take a more unusual turn...

"Dear Diary, I believe I've experienced death for three days in August now.  I don't know if I'm actually dreaming or if I'm actually experiencing this as reality.  I feel it is all real.  It is too real.  Everything seems gray, the gigantic room seems limitless in scope and the billions of people are all too real as well.  People come up to me now.  They want to know all about me, where I am from and what did do in the "Living World" as they termed it.  There are so many asking questions at once, I try to flee from them.  But, that doesn't stop them from coming after me.  The people have tried to tear off my clothes, they grab my hair and try to put it on top of their heads.  It's just too much for me and I started screaming for help.  The short man, as I will call him, came to my rescue.  He grabbed me and took me to a small area of people sitting in chairs.  I had never seen this before.  "If these people get too much for you, come here.  They will not follow you here" he said.  I wanted to ask him why, but he again disappeared into the gigantic crowd of talking people.  The short man was right, I am accustomed to the constant roar of what appears to be billions of people in this space.  Space is the only way I can describe it.  I found an empty chair and sat down.  As soon as I sat down, a woman who was at least 6'7 or taller called my name.  "Thomas Arthur Mason...TO THE FRONT!!!"  The last three words she practically drowned out the entire crowd gathered.  For the first time, I was scared.  This huge, tall woman looked down on me with ambivalence.  It was much in the same manner as when you are at the doctor's office.  The nurse calling your name doesn't really pay you much attention since she has done this so many times.  This woman had the same reaction to me.  "Follow me and keep close.  I do not want to have to look for you if you get lost".  I didn't say anything.  I just kept as close to her as I could.  I followed her down countless hallways.  We would go into rooms and I was thinking here is the final destination.  But, no, we would continue on as she opened a door that was always in each room.  We went down more hallways and more rooms.  It seemed to go on for several minutes.  We finally reached our destination.  There were no other doors in this room.  "Sit in the silver chair.  Be patient.  I will have someone come to get you when you are finished here," she said.  I was quite frightened.  This room was so quiet.  There was faint light.  But, I saw no electrical outlet anywhere.  I was sitting at a huge wood table that had five other chairs.  I sat in the room for what seemed like six hours or more before someone came in.  There were five people who walked in, sat down and said nothing.  They all looked directly at me with an intensity I have not felt before or probably ever will again.  I was about to say something when I found myself back in bed at home.  I am afraid of sleeping now.  I must seek medical help."

Grandpa did not have any more entries until August 29, 1949.  This is the 4th entry of August: "I found myself again at the table with the five people.  I guess you must know you are not supposed to be here Thomas Arthur Mason.  But, you have seen things that you were not supposed to see, not yet, anyway.  We are in a conundrum as to what to do with you.  It is not yet your time to be here.  But, at the same time, we are unable to come to an agreement as to what to do with you.  For all intents and purposes, sir, you are among the dead.  You will continue to come here for an undetermined amount of time until we decide what to do with you.  I'll tell you what you going to do, you are going to let me go and stop bringing me here, I told them.  And with that, Grandpa again woke up.  I can't put in each entry from August to December of 1949 as I was told before submitting this story.  But, I will end this story with this last entry from Grandpa on December 4, 1949.  "I was again at the damn table with these 5 spooky looking people.  They seem to be talking real fast, so fast until I could not understand them.  This went on for at least an hour or more.  Finally, they stopped and looked at me.  We have reached a decision to stop bringing you here.  There was a mistake made.  You are not due here permanently until your end date in the living world is over.  Then you will come back to be processed appropriately.  I asked them, well when will my end date be?  The squirrely looking one at the end of the table said, October 14, 2012Until then, goodbye.  I then found myself back with my wife in bed.  I don't know if he was just fooling with me or what.  But, I will live my life pretending I don't know when I'm going to die.  In fact, I think I will die before then.

My grandpa continued to make entries in his diary until his hands could no longer hold a pen.  He had no use for computers or smartphones (dumb phones as he called them). I found Grandpa's diary right where he said it would be in his safe and he left the key to the safe under a picture of Grandma.  I read that last entry inked in red two days after his death.  Grandpa died on October 14, 2012.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...