My Observations as Darrin Stephens
by James Duncan
On his honeymoon night, Darrin Stephens' 1960's sitcom wife informed him that he had married a witch. Shortly after getting married and moving to Canada, my wife Sandy informed me that she had special powers. She can communicate with a variety of spirits on the other side, including any of our deceased relatives or anyone throughout history if they are kind enough to answer her call. As her enlightened friends call her, she's a wise woman, otherwise known as a witch. That's right! I married a witch. I am a real life, Darrin Stephens.
Initially, I was entirely skeptical of the idea and didn't believe in the afterlife. My reasonable, quintessential engineer father exerted significant influence upon my outlook growing up. We looked for rational scientific explanations and never discussed spiritual matters or religion. Naturally, I assumed that there were no ghosts and no everlasting souls. It took a mountain of uncanny evidence to change my narrow-minded mainstream scientific view
I first strongly considered the afterlife during a counseling session by one of Sandy's former teachers. I was having a particularly tough time with horrific life events, and my mind and emotions were tied in knots. I felt so confined and devastated. It was the opposite of a carefree existence. Her teacher listened to my problem, then cocked her head to one side and said: "Why don't we consult your dad about this?" Consult my dad? He had died almost twenty years earlier. She closed her eyes and calmed herself. A smile then lit up her face, and she started giggling. "Your dad is hilarious!" she said.
"Oh, brother!" I thought. "I can't believe my wife is making me sit through this crap."
"Your dad says that you should try to feel how you felt when you would Nestea Plunge into the pool and backflip underwater." My jaw hit the floor. How could she say that? No one knew I did that except dad. When he got home from work, I'd swim in the pool and flop back into the water. I'd then do backward somersaults underwater and feel incredibly free. I did this over and over on numerous occasions, but no one saw it except him. It was a beautiful, comforting, rewarding time of life.
What struck me as especially incredible about her words, was that she not only came up with the description (she didn't know me or that my childhood house had a pool), but that the advice was the exact emotional prescription for the moment. That feeling in the pool, remedied the particular emotions strangling my existence. Furthermore, no one knew how I felt while doing the Nestea Plunge and my underwater backflip. It seemed that the information came from a God-like consciousness that not only knew the contents of my inner mind and emotions but how they fit into current struggles.
The next bit of evidence made me a believer. While visiting a friend in Vegas, I got to drive a Ferrari and did well except for one awful mistake where I accidentally attempted to shift down instead of up. If the electronically controlled transmission hadn't been designed to handle such bone-headed mistakes, it could have fried the engine. I felt guilty about this and never mentioned it to anyone.
Months later at home, Sandy had my deceased brother and father on the line. She asked, "Did you have trouble shifting the Ferrari in Vegas?"
"Why do you say that?" I asked incredulously.
"Well, I'm having a conversation with your brother, and he says you had trouble shifting. He and your dad are laughing their asses off right now. I told him that he must be mistaken because you said you drove well. He insisted, saying 'Ask him! Ask him!'"
While my brother and dad laughed it up, I once again lifted my jaw off the floor and exclaimed: "That's amazing." During the session, Sandy demonstrated a feel for their personalities, though she never got to meet them.
All the souls we've had contact with seem extraordinarily light-hearted. Their personality traits are present, but they are utterly carefree. They laugh a lot, smile a lot and are not weighed down by nonsense. Apparently, they enjoy all sorts of everyday activities like golf or music but seem to do so entirely in their imaginations, which feels just as meaningful to them. One of Sandy's friends claims that John Lennon likes to hang out in my listening chair and play my audio system in his mind.
Sandy had previously seen my brother's ghost when we played a Beatles LP. He wore a Nehru jacket and mutton chop sideburns and danced in the corner. She couldn't believe he was my brother. She had only seen pictures of him wearing conservative clothing and hairstyles. There exist no photos of the brief mutton chops or the Nehru jacket. I felt he appeared that way as strong confirmation. Often, received evidence seems entirely incorrect, only to realize later that it was more specific and profoundly confirming than initially considered.
Another confirming event is perhaps Sandy's most impressive. She was driving to an appointment when a woman on the other side grabbed her attention.
"My name is Minnie. You've met my daughter Rebecca. You've got to help. She met you at the local resort where you performed. She has to see my husband.” Minnie gave details about herself and urged Sandy to call. Sandy didn't know Rebecca and didn't want to trouble her about this odd voice in her ear. She wasn't inclined to call and say, “You may not remember me, but I'm a psychic medium, and I just got a message for you.”
Four days passed and Sandy heard from Minnie again. This time, she was more demanding. “CALL HER RIGHT NOW!” Minnie ordered. Sandy picked up the phone and timidly called. She explained that she wasn't looking for business, but felt compelled to pass along the message. Rebecca recognized the details and said it was her deceased mother. She had faith in Sandy's words and left work early and went over to her dad's house.
Weeks went by, and Sandy didn't hear anything more on the matter. When Sandy was back at the resort, Rebecca saw her in the lobby and ran towards her. "Uh-oh. Am I in trouble?" Sandy thought. "I hope she's not going to attack me." Sandy braced herself and then saw the big smile. Rebecca ran to Sandy, threw her arms around her and lifted her into the air.
"Thank you so much! You saved my father's life!"
"What? What happened?" Sandy asked.
"My dad was going to commit suicide that afternoon."
Rebecca explained that her dad was devastated over the loss of his wife and was experiencing survivor's guilt. He wanted to join his wife on the other side. His daughter talked him out of it, changed his outlook and reminded him of his importance to her.
My weekly observances with Sandy have included a variety of incidents far beyond these few examples. She has said that she's felt some of our deceased pets. Animals have souls too, apparently. She communicates with angels, which according to her, are spirits which have not existed in human form. The archangels or ever-present angels seem to be here to help us. She has called on them for help many times. We have called upon a favorite writer for help with my book. Amazingly the deceased spirit knew book details I never discussed with Sandy.
Our deceased relatives can offer us help. My late aunt came to Sandy a couple of years back and told her that my mom had to be careful in November. My mom was in good health, so I didn't give it much consideration. I had forgotten about my aunt's warning; it was shocking to learn of my mom's unexpected passing in her sleep that November. At the funeral, Sandy and the woman minister were communicating telepathically during the service. I would have been more skeptical, but Sandy confirmed it with her in front of me afterward.
My aunt's warning brings up the idea of prognostication. It seems that souls know much of the future, perhaps from being connected to all knowledge and being able to see how it will unravel. Spirits appear reluctant to give out specific information and unfortunately, no one has given Sandy the winning lottery numbers. She has a psychic relative who had a big mid-level lottery win, but there was no connection to her powers.
Communication with this God-like consciousness is not necessarily limited to the dead. We all supposedly have a higher self-engaged in this realm, though it's inaccessible to most of us. Nicola Tesla used to claim that he harnessed his ideas from the ether. Perhaps he was making use of his higher self.
The tidy nature and connectedness of souls make me think that an advanced intelligence designed the entire system. It's difficult to say if this were by God or by an advanced civilization. My experiences with Sandy have given me a new concept of God. Rather than an angry man in the sky, God is merely a connection of all souls and knowledge.
Regarding communication of souls, it is instant. There is no speed of light limitation and no 13-24 minute radio delay from Mars. This calculation is reasonable if you are familiar with multidimensions. After discovering more than four dimensions, a 1970's paper mathematically demonstrated that it was theoretically possible to travel across the galaxy in milliseconds. Modern science has made no progress illuminating the existence or communication of souls, but calculations of theoretical speeds through higher dimensions are consistent with the observations of talented mediums.
I recently showed Sandy a personalized Christmas card from a friend. She examined the picture of his family and said, "An older bald man is standing next to him." She was describing his father, who has passed. Somehow, he made an imprint on Sandy's mind. Supposedly, passed souls can determine who can to receive their messages. It is not unlike a flashing light hovering over Sandy's head saying "Now serving the next soul." The message for us is clear. Our souls go on, and our deceased loved ones are with us throughout our lives.
I have no direct confirmation of reincarnation, but Sandy and her spiritual friends believe in it. It now seems reasonable to me and is accepted ancient truth in some Eastern cultures.
Given that the soul goes on and that we may, in fact, be on one long journey of growth, it makes sense to be a kind person. Those who have been cruel, evil or deceitful are kidding themselves and may have set their souls back during this lifetime. Perhaps disseminating this information to enough people can inspire a much-needed turning point for humanity. Being Darrin Stephens may not have granted me any fantastic, whimsical desire but I know that it has made me a better person.
James Duncan earned a degree in electrical engineering and computer science from Princeton University in 1985. He won the Ingenuity in Engineering award from the Cornell Society of Engineers and was a two-time award winner in the American High School Mathematics Examination. He is the author of the upcoming memoir The Lonely Chippendale.