Editor’s Note: This gentleman contacted us with his reincarnation story, which is quite incredible and generously allowed us to republish from his Facebook page. From Topher Williams, here is “Tophers’ Two Cents – Reincarnation.”
I would like to share a story with all of you. I know it’s not your average socially acceptable story, but it’s a true story, nonetheless. I’ve talked to a few people about publishing this and I’ve heard mixed opinions. I’ve heard “People will judge you” and, “People will think you’re crazy.” Yeah…maybe…but that doesn’t bother me. After the events you will read about, you’ll understand why nothing really gets to me anymore.
This whole thing is about reincarnation, as you see in the title. If this is something you don’t want to read about then it’s ok to stop reading here. I used to scoff when people talked about it. I used to think it’s a ridiculous notion. So I understand.
* * *
A few people know about my strange experiences in Maine. If you don’t I’ll give a little back story:
When I was a kid I remember drawing lighthouses. It wasn’t an obsession, but I remember really enjoying them.
I remember drawing two of them as a kid. One was short and had a flat top and one was a little taller and had a regular-type roof. As most of you know, Meredith [Tophers’ wife] partly grew up in Maine. Her mother knew I liked lighthouses and sent me a picture of the Portland Head Light in Cape Elizabeth, ME. It was the same lighthouse as the taller one I used to draw. I thought it had to be coincidence. Maybe I inadvertently seen it growing up, but it was a little scary nonetheless.
Shortly after this occurrence, Meredith and I were talking about our upcoming trip to Maine and I was talking about what I thought the air would feel like and how Maine looked and felt, in general. She asked me “Are you sure you’ve never been there?” I hadn’t at this point, but I was spot on. It was all coincidences and good guesses, as far as I was concerned.
* * *
So we fly out there.
I was excited to go to a new, foreign place and I’ve always wanted to see and touch an actual lighthouse. When I get off the plane I expected the excitement to continue. Instead, what I mainly felt was a sort of calm. I felt I was “home”. I felt that I belonged there. Sure, I was still a little excited, but it became like a secondary emotion.
After meeting Meredith’s parents, we immediately went to the Portland Head Light. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. The closer I got to it, the more my emotions became a weird mix of calm, fear and nerves.
I walked up to the lighthouse, touched it and pictured myself standing in front the light house I drew – the one with more of a flat top. It made absolutely no sense, and typically I would brush feelings like this aside, but when the picture flashed in my head I felt so much peace. I felt different. Maybe it was pride? Maybe Happiness? I don’t know.
Once reality set in, the whole situation freaked me out, because even though it was a little picture in my head, it was real to me.
Now this is the first time I met Mere’s [Tophers’ wife’s nickame] parents, so obviously I had to internalize everything that was happening. I didn’t want them thinking I was some kind of crackpot although I definitely felt like it.
I kept telling myself that it’s all in my head.
As we drove from Portland to Brunswick in Maine, all the old buildings and the geography felt familiar. Even though I kept all these thoughts to myself, I couldn’t keep in was how comfortable I was there. It was apparently noticeable because, after a few days of being there, I was told maybe I was a lighthouse keeper in a previous life. I laughed it off. I didn’t believe in “past lives”. To me reincarnation was an interesting and fun metaphysical topic, but nothing more.
I wanted to shrug it off (the image), but the next morning we noticed something on the front page of the Portland Press Herald. There were sailboat races happening while we were picnicking at the Portland Head Light and there happened to be a plane flying around taking photos while we were there. So, on the front page of the newspaper was a large aerial photo [of the races and lighthouse].
We were looking to see if we could find ourselves in the picture at our table. While zooming in on the photo, we saw, pictured, the exact moment I had been touching the lighthouse, which was also confirmed from another photo that Mere got of that exact moment. At that moment, I was thinking about that little lighthouse image in my head [from childhood].
You can see a picture of the comparison on my Facebook [also in the image above]. Even though it was really cool I knew it had to be a coincidence…one hell of a coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless. After all of the events that took place, I don’t think it was a coincidence. I think it was almost as if the universe was trying to get me to find answers. Like, “Hey, you can’t ignore me now.” Although there were plenty of other little situations to make me think this, the Portland Head Light situation was the biggest thing that happened there.
So then it was time to leave Maine. It hurt. I felt like I was going back to a place I didn’t belong. I still don’t feel I belong here [Topher’s current location in another state]. When it was all said and done, enough or my experiences made me want to find answers. So, I started questioning everything I learned in my life and I questioned everything I conditioned myself to “believe”. I wanted to know why I had these experiences. So I began searching right when I got back.
I kept coming up empty until I found that first flat top lighthouse I used to draw [as a child]. That flat top lighthouse is also the Portland Head Light. It was remodeled and raised during the Civil War, which gave it its current look. This, of course, made me want more answers. But after that I kept coming up with nothing.
Then I was given a session with a physiotherapist. Maybe I could find answers. I was hoping to, but I could never have expected what happened next. This [past-life regression] is something I recommend everyone do whether you believe in reincarnation or not.
The physiotherapist did his thing and put me under. Once we were ready, he asked me a series of questions. It was a one-hour and 45-minute session that felt like 15 minutes to me.
Here are the key points of this session:
Therapist: Where are you
Me- A field
Therapist: Where’s the field?
Therapist: What’s your name?
Therapist: What are you wearing?
Me: Something blue. (I realized I was a soldier) I’m a Captain.
Therapist: What year is it?
Therapist: What’s happening?
Me: I just won land.
Therapist: What for?
Me: For the battles
Therapist: What battles?
Me: I don’t remember their names. But I think all of them.
Therapist: How do you feel?
Me: It’s bittersweet
This is where I start uncontrollably sobbing-
Me: I lost my brother.
Therapist: What his name
Me: I don’t remember
Therapist: Who is with you?
Me: My wife
Therapist: What’s her name?
He then told me to go to James’ deathbed-
Therapist: How old are you?
Therapist: What year is it?
Therapist: What are you dying of.
Me: I don’t know. I can’t move.
Therapist: Who’s with you?
Me: My family
Therapist: What have you learned from this life
Me: Family is important.
Therapist: How did you feel about this life?
I start sobbing again-
Me: I killed so many people…..for land. It’s not worth it.
Therapist: Who did you kill?
Me: The “Reds”. They were innocent. I killed them.
The therapist then asked me to go forward to the next important part of this journey-
Therapist: Where are you?
I started talking funny, at least funny to me. I wasn’t talking like “me”.
Me: An alley. It’s cold.
Therapist: Who’s with you?
Me: A bunch of people. I don’t know them
Therapist: Where is this alley?
Therapist: How are you feeling?
Me: I’m excited
Therapist: Why are you excited?
Me: Martin Luther King is gonna be on the TV
Therapist: That makes you happy?
Me: He’s gonna save us. I shouldn’t talk about this. My wife says to keep my
mouth shut. She says I talk too much. People like us need to stay quiet.
Me: It’s dangerous for us. (I remember getting really angry here) Black folk need
to know our place
Earlier I said I thought I was talking funny. You probably gathered that I was talking like a poor, 1960’s black guy. The therapist asked me a few other things that I don’t recall and then he had me go to the end of that “life”.
I started shaking.
I remember feeling scared and I felt something hard and cold at the base of my skull. I remember the therapist helping me disassociate from the emotions. He told me to look at it as an outsider. I remember being able to kind of do that. But I was still crying pretty hard.
Therapist: What’s going on?
Me: They killed her
I remember feeling the emotions again and remember either thinking or saying Oh god please.
Therapist: They killed who?
Me: My wife. I think I’m next
Therapist: Why are they there?
Me: I think they’re robbing me. I don’t know. I have nothing
Therapist: What are they saying?
Me: Niggers don’t deserve life.
Therapist: Do you know them?
Me: No. Just another “Whitey”
He has me go past this life to the next important part. I did, but not before I heard the bang and the back of my head felt a mix of hot and cold. This is probably the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t remember this session like a bad dream. They feel like memories now, I felt I was there. And never in my life had I been this terrified. After the bang I started feeling calm. I felt love. I felt peace.
Therapist: Where are you?
Me: I don’t know
Therapist: What does it look like?
Me: I don’t know. It’s nothing.
Therapist: What do you see?
Me: Nothing. It’s white. But not white. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It’s nothing
Therapist: Who is with you?
Me: (Really happy at this point) It’s Sammy!
Therapist: Who’s Sammy?
Me: He’s my friend
Therapist: What does he look like?
Me: (I thought this was a stupid question) He looks like Sammy. He just is.
Therapist: He doesn’t have a face?
Me: (Once again I thought this was a stupid question) No. No one does.
Therapist: Is anyone else there?
Therapist: Who else is there?
Me: 6 others.
Therapist: Who are they?
Me: Elders. They help.
Then I remember trying to explain what I saw again. No words do it justice. It was literally like everything and nothing all at once. No color yet every color.
Therapist: Is Sammy telling you anything?
Me: He asked if I learned my lesson and if I could finally forgive myself
Therapist: What lesson?
Me: I killed so many innocent people. I needed to be the innocent one being killed.
Therapist: How many times did you become the innocent man?
Me: A few
Therapist: So did you learn?
Me: I don’t know. Sammy and the others are telling me I have to go back now. I don’t want to.
Therapist: Why not?
Me: I’m scared. Sammy told me that this will be different. I will probably struggle.
Therapist: With what?
Me: I don’t know
Therapist: What else is he telling you?
Me: When I do he will be there to help me be the best soul I can be. I don’t want to
The therapist has me continue. It’s cold. I’m scared. I see my aunt Gloria (which is weird), then I see a middle-aged man. Then, I find myself in the “area” the Therapist put me in before the regression began. At this point I was being pulled out of the hypnosis.
* * *
Whether this was all “in my head” or not, it’s still an incredible story – man punishing himself over and over again due to his guilt!
I came out of this session a different person. I felt “I” could “forgive myself”. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders and my overall demeanor changed, but that evening I left the hypnotherapist fairly confused. I almost expected the regression to put me in Maine. I expected to be a lighthouse keeper or someone who had something to do with it. I’ve never liked the name “James”. Why would I call myself that? Though I felt happier, it opened my world to a whole lot more questions.
The Connection, and the Proof
Now this last part is why I don’t feel it’s in my head. I searched for “Captain James” and I found quite a few, but none matched from my regression. Then I finally stumbled upon Captain James Buxton.
Around the year 1780, a captain named James Buxton was awarded 300 acres of land in Massachusetts for his service in the war. His wife’s name was Esther Southwick. He was a musician. He either played the drums or flute. I’m not sure which, but a fife and drum corp is named after him.
As an interesting side note: before I played the trumpet in third grade I wanted to play drums in the school band. All of the spots were taken. So then I wanted to play the flute, but the teacher said I had the wrong fingers. That may be coincidence, but if it is it’s a pretty big one.
According to my research, James died in 1817 at the age of 72. His reported cause of death was paralysis. If you read this far – it all sounds familiar. Almost everything with the regression matches James’ life.
At first I was confused about what I meant by “The Reds” that James killed. In searching for James I realized that the British wore red uniforms, hence “the reds”.
So where does the image of the original Portland Head Light come into play? I also learned that at that time Maine was still part of the Colony of Massachusetts. George Washington engaged two men to build the Portland Head Light in 1787. As you read before, this is the same timeframe as James Buxton, and Buxton had served under George Washington. It is feasible Buxton was there for the construction, or completion. This isn’t a for sure thing, but looking at everything else it would make sense.
Unfortunately I found nothing on the guy in the 60’s, but I remember him being a nobody and if someone black got murdered in the 60’s, it wasn’t necessarily newsworthy at the time.
A Physical Sign of Reincarnation
The important thing about that part of the regression is my birthmark. After the regression I also looked up a lot of stuff on reincarnation in general. Dr. Ian Stevenson worked for decades with children who claimed to remember past lives. One of the things he noticed with almost all of the children with birthmarks or birth defects was that they were in correlation with the “past life” memory.
For example, there is a child who remembers being stabbed in the chest. Per the medical records of the man the child claimed to have been, not only did the birthmark match the location of the stab wound, but the shape of the wound and the birthmark matched perfectly. This is only one case. There have been hundreds that match the same way. I don’t know if some of you have seen my birthmark. It a large red birthmark that looks just like someone put a gun to the back of my head.
Another interesting fact is seeing my Aunt Gloria who is pretty much not in the family now. My Mother confirmed that she was there in the room when I was born.
The last part is about the strange everything/nothing place.
While looking into it I stumbled upon something called “LBL Regression”. It stands for Life Between Lives”. There are quite a few people who have had them. The atmosphere and the surroundings vary depending on the person, but there are always more than one “being” present and they are always “Elders.”
In every LBL regression somebody has a guide which is a more advanced “soul”. They usually remember being asked “What did you learn?” or something similar.
These are people from all over the world. People who have never met one another, people who really can’t share stories. Yet they all have similar accounts, just like mine.
What’s the importance of Sammy? I remember recognizing the “being” as my friend Sam.
I spent 30 years not knowing who I was. I didn’t know how I was supposed to be. I made a lot of mistakes and I started hating everyone else because of it. I didn’t like my life and I hit my breaking point.
I won’t go into certain personal details of my life, but yes at 30 years old, Sam saved my life and to this day challenges me to better myself.
Theoretical physics speaks of the possibilities of reincarnation. Every religion, including 1st century Christianity speaks of it. The Ancient Greeks spoke of it. It was a unanimous belief prior to 500 AD. I think the religious and spiritual unanimity along with theoretical physics gives it at least a shred of weight. After my experiences and discoveries I genuinely belief it exists. And this, for me, eliminates fear. It eliminates worry. It eliminates stress. There are far more important things than what we, as a society, worry about.
So why am I telling everybody about this experience? I want to encourage those who have similar situations to dig, and dig deep. I feel that there are always answers. We just might not always know where to look. I want to encourage people who may be scared to open up about it because of some social stigma. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about you but you. If you have ever had any kind of gut feeling like this, or if you’ve had any crazy experiences like I did, have a regression done. You may be surprised at what you find.
Now after nearly eight pages of typing in Microsoft Word I’ll let you all go. Thanks for reading, and take care.