Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted. 8 months for you, I’m told, but just over 3 years for me. Thanks to everyone who has written, followed the blog, sent your thoughts and good wishes, and generally been interested in what’s been happening to me.
I returned here three days ago, traveling from 1936. I did indeed travel to 1933, met my Grandfather, and somehow survived the experience of being tossed into the past. The fact that I had been warned and prepared for the trip was what saved me. I’m not sure I would have lived through the experience. Don’t get me wrong, 1930s America is a civilized place, there’s simply not the safety nets or systems to keep someone from slipping through the significantly large cracks in the society of that day.
My expectation was, if I traveled to the past at all, was that I would feel myself slipping into the “mist” as I call it, a “fuzzing out” of reality and a slow sharpening back in when I arrive at the new point in time and space. That’s what it’s like. I feel subtly disconnected with reality, a kind of depersonalization a few seconds before the light starts to dim and everything around me becomes increasingly more indistinct. When my entire world seems to be the inside of a cloud, shadows start to show themselves, then shapes, and then the world returns to clarity in a few seconds. I’m not sure what it looks like from someone else’s perspective, since I haven’t talked with anyone who has seen me disappear or appear. I expected to return to the physical world near Belton, a short walk away from my grandparents’ house.
I was wrong.
On that day in December, I was driving to work and had just gotten off the 15 in Mira Mesa, when I started to feel the “mist” coming on. I swung into a parking lot, speed-dialed Molly’s cell, jumped out of the car, opened the back driver-side door and grabbed my leather go-bag, a leather, 1950s vintage briefcase that I hoped would pass for the proper period piece in the 30s (it did, by the way). I started to tell Molly that “this is it,” – I was feeling like this was a big trip, but before I could get the words out, the world went away. When it returned, I wasn’t anywhere near Belton, but seemed to be somewhere close to the spot in Mira Mesa where I had disappeared. I was in a field of scrub brush near San Diego, California, and without the benefit of landmarks, couldn’t tell exactly where, but it somehow felt close to the place I’d been in 2008. I had traveled many years into the past, but not far at all in terms of geography.
I realized immediately that I had a long trip to Belton, Indiana ahead of me. The only problem was, I’d left my car in 2008.
I’m not here indefinitely. Dan tells me just over 2 weeks, so I’ve got to be judicious with my time. Over the next few days, I’m going to try and give you a brief account of what I went through in 1933, and share some things I feel compelled to tell you about. I have to warn you, it’s not all good news.
More tomorrow.
This is so amazing. I have posted my comments three times and somehow it keeps getting erased. I love this web site have read the whole thing and am so curious as to what happens to this fine gentleman. Please post more soon. My heart goes out to your family Rich, both of them. Safe journeys