When my first son was born, my partner and I took him home and we sat together on our sofa and we just snuggled up. It was the first time having a child felt real to both of us. It had been a bit of an ordeal. On the way to the hospital when my partner's waters broke my car was damaged by an automated car wash and I had to borrow an ambulance from my station, just to get us to the hospital for the actual delivery the next day. In the maternity ward the delivery hadn't gone well, and it was only my medical knowledge that saved him from being born very ill indeed... if at all. My partner and I were relaxing at home now for the first time in days.
As we sat there I noticed three figures enter the room. They were as real to me then as this computer is now. The first was a tall man in a black suit. He wore a black cape across his shoulders and a tall top-hat. He was obviously a military man, or had some sort of power and authority. He was very upright and "proper". The second was my grandmother. She'd been dead for a little while at this point. The third was a little lady about the same age as my Nan, with a roundish, playful-looking face.
The figures all looked at the baby and even the gentleman ventured to smile. I relayed what I was seeing to my other half, who clearly couldn't see them and she instantly recognized my description of the third lady as her grandmother, whom I'd never seen because she died a long time before we met. They each nodded at me as if to say well-done and they were gone in the blink of an eye.
I would normally write that sort of thing off as a hallucination if not for the connection to my partner's grandmother, and a little while later something else happened to confirm what I'd seen.
My partner and I were frequent visitors to the local spiritualist church. Although we were both atheists we were also pagans with a deep sense of spirit around us. I even went on a training course to become a medium and we frequently read tarot cards and attended circles and moots. We both still have our "magickal chests" full of candles, incense and other accoutrements.
On one occasion I went to the church and was singled out by a medium on stage. He went on to describe, exactly, the man who had come into our lounge when my son was brought home. His description of the man was perfect and he explained that he was a distant uncle, an ex-military sort, who had had money and land to his name. He explained that I was under the man's wing somewhat and he was very close to us as a family at all times.
Well, that confirmed it. I had definitely seen what I saw. Right?
Perhaps you're not yet convinced.
When my son was a year old he could already walk and read quite well and could hold a fairly adult conversation with us. One night he called us through the monitor to ask if we could get rid of the "dark man in the tall hat". We asked if the man was being naughty and he replied that the man was actually telling him jokes, which is why he couldn't get off to sleep. So I called through the monitor to ask the man to leave. A short while later my son called again to say that the man wanted to let me know he was very proud to be related to my son, but that he had now gone.
My eldest son only saw him once more but that time he asked him to leave himself and the man obliged.
Still not convinced?
Well, how about this. My youngest son, who was spookily born three years, three months and three days after my eldest, also called one night when he was around the same age as my eldest son had been, complaining that a "dark-man with a tall hat" had been keeping him awake. I went into his room and my son told me the man was there by the light-fitting in the centre of the room. I turned to that point, thanked the man for being there and asked if he would in future refrain from making himself visible to my kids. My son told me that the man had raised his arm in acknowledgment and disappeared into the "light in the ceiling".
So, I saw the man, a medium saw the man and both my kids saw the same man. Clearly the spirit does exist. Right?
I mean, that is very strong evidence, you have to agree.
Well... maybe not.
The way I see it is this. I'm a huge Sherlock Holmes fan. I could quite easily sit through a whole series of Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke playing the fabulous Sherlock and Watson, one episode after the next. There's Mr Brett, taken from us far too soon, strutting purposefully across the street in his black suit, shoulder cape and tall black top-hat, cutting people down with his wit and razor-sharp observations. Those little dramatic touches sprinkled into an already flawless performance. It sends shivers down my spine. Brett WAS Sherlock and no matter who comes after him he will always be Sherlock Holmes, Master Detective!
Wait... how did I describe Mr Brett?
Now you see where I'm going. I am a great fan of the TV series, which I watch whenever I get a chance. I've undoubtedly watched it with both my boys and what more striking a figure is there than Sherlock? Well... for a child whose dad also likes Thomas the Tank Engine (for the animation... ahem) possibly the Fat Controller, Sir Topham Hatt? Or, his more humorous and playful brother the Thin Controller, Sir Lowham Hatt?
How can the imagination of two little boys escape the idea of a man in a dark suit with a tall hat, when their father has presented them with such strong images of three men wearing just those clothes?
As for the medium, well, you've heard of cold-reading, right? It's not too far a reach to think that a man who wears black clothes, which I most often do, would associate with another man wearing dark clothes and giving him a top-hat and a cape for good measure adds just a whiff of authenticity doesn't it? A happy coincidence.
But, what about the fact that I saw them too?
I mentioned that my partner and I had been through a somewhat stressful experience. Not only was it our first child, but we were on our own, and there had been problems with my car and the delivery itself, so sleep wasn't a priority for either of us. I think that when we both sat there together I simply fell asleep. If only for a short while. In that time my mind drew up an image of the three together... my hero, my grandmother and of course an approximation of what I imagined my partner's grandmother would look like. Her face was easily placed in the dream, since her photo was on the wall in my partner's parents' house.
It all fits very easily into line when you work it all out, but just imagine what I'd make of all that "personal experience" if I wasn't firm in my belief that there is a rational explanation for everything if you care to take the time to look. Eye-witness testimony has been rejected as bona fide evidence in most Western courts. The FBI have openly stated that this form of testimony is almost worthless and the Dancing Gorilla Experiment goes a long way to explaining why.
What we see and what we think we are seeing are often two very different things. Our brains are extremely good at filling in the blanks, especially retroactively. If you don't believe me, try watching a good magic show sometime.
I take every account of "personal experience" with a massive pinch of salt. It's not that I believe the person is lying, but rather they are reading far to much into what they saw, or think they saw. Take for instance the condition known as pareidolia, which is where a person sees human faces in inanimate objects, such as houses, trees, rocks, lichen formations and the like. Jesus on toast or in clouds is a great example, as is reading tea-leaves. There is an audible version too where voices are heard in random white noise, or sentences appear in music when it is played in reverse. Pareidolia is a form of apophenia, which is described as seeing connections without prompting and ascribing to those connections an abnormal meaningfulness.
Humans are hard-wired to ascribe connections to things and draw conclusions from minimum data. We hear a rustle in the bushes and we know an agent is at work, moving around. Ignoring it is foolish, so our primary response is to escape the scene quickly. Experience then kicks in and informs our secondary senses and we realize that the noise is a small bird, not a large ravenous lion. The people running away at that point would all swear it was a lion. A really big one with sharp teeth and, if they were fans of Sherlock Holmes, wearing a black cape and top-hat.
Another thing we're really, really good at is role-playing. How often have you been on your way to a meeting, or a job interview, and have played out how it should go in your head? You set the scene, you form the people in your mind. You know what the person on the end of the phone looks like, despite never having seen her face. You know everything about her. You imagine what you'd say, how she'd react to it and you imagine her giving you the job on the spot. Then you get there and it's a completely different set up and the tall brunette you imagined was a shortish redhead. Then you made that joke which in your head was knock-em-dead funny and it bombed. You didn't get the job.
What it boils down to is this... credulity is not a virtue, and relying on your own "personal experience" to distinguish truth from fantasy isn't a good idea either. Be careful when you accept a person's testimony for an event... especially your own!
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