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The
Voice of the Angel in My Ear
By: J. Lewis Dean
Introduction
“The
Voice of the Angel in My Ear”
Is a
non-fictional short story.
With the writing of
this story, it is not my intention to make you
believe or dis-believe in angels, or a Heaven or
Hell. The Voice of the Angel in My Ear is a story
about my own experiences with what I like to call
my guardian angel. She has spoken to me on
numerous occasions. I say “She” because the voice
I hear and feel when the angel speaks to me is the
voice of a lady or girl.
In this story you will
be lead safely through some of the trials and
events in my life, in which I heard the voice, of
the angel in my ear.
J. Lewis Dean
The
Voice of the Angel in My Ear
I grew up as a child
who attended church, my father and mother always
seen to it that we went to church wherever we
lived. So I was very familiar with the
spiritualism of Christianity. For I was raised a
Christian, attending Baptist churches in the
south.
I never really heard
the voice of an angel till way up in my teenage
years. I would say around the age of eighteen
years old.
I had heard many
accounts of people having experiences with
Guardian Angels. But, I had never personally
experienced such an encounter.
My grandmother Dean
was a very religious person, I think she probably
played the biggest role in my life as a Christian.
Before she passed away, she told me of guardian
angels. She told me that I had one with me at all
times, and sometimes it would speak to me
verbally. She told me;
“Jeffy you better
listen to it when it does speak to you, or else
bad things will happen.”
Yeah she called me
“Jeffy” all my life, and I called her “Mamaw.” She
was a lot of fun to be around indeed. Before she
passed away back when I was just a teenager, she
taught me a lot about God and the kind of person I
was supposed to be.
My first encounter
with my guardian angel came when I was just
nineteen years old. I was an avid hunter then, as
I still am today. I also liked to walk around on
both my dad’s place and his Cousin E.L. Johnson’s
place with my rifle or shotgun and just plink
around at rocks and logs and such. E.L. had a
young son, his name is John. At that time John was
about fourteen or fifteen years old. Sometimes he
would go with me on these target shooting walks
around the land. We did this many times, and never
with warnings of danger or an incident.
Then came the day,
Sunday September 27th, 1982, John and I
headed out to some land my dad had that was
located along a creek on another road a few miles
away. John and I got a 12 gauge shotgun, and a
twenty-two magnum semi-automatic rifle, both of
which belonged to me. I had just recently bought
the .22 magnum rifle, it was new and one of the
first .22 magnum semi-automatic rifles they had
come out with, most are single shot or bolt
action.
After getting the
shotgun and rifle, John and I got in the car and
drove down to the land. We parked, got out of the
car and gathered the guns and the ammo and began
walking towards our desired location. The first
thing we had to do was conquer this rather long
and steep hill. It’s when we started walking up
the hillside is when I for the very first time
heard and felt my guardian angel.
We began walking up
the hillside, and soon as we did, I heard a voice
in my ear, the voice of a female. She said,
“Jeff turn around
and go home, don’t walk up the hill.”
I know, sounds kind of simple doesn’t it? But
that’s exactly how it was. I shrugged it off and
ignored it, continued my trek up the steep
hillside. A minute or two later, I heard it again,
a little stronger than before.
“Jeff turn around
Go home don’t walk up the hill.” Again
I ignored it and forged onward. We walked and
walked, as I said, it was a long hill, a few more
times I heard the voice warning me to turn around,
and each time it was stronger than the last time.
The hill kind of had a false plateau, but soon
started uphill again. Just before we reached the
top of the hill, I heard the voice again, this
time very! Very! Strong.
“Jeff Go Back
Now!” I have to say now, that it
worried me some that time; I was beginning to
think I was losing my mind. But still I walked
onward headed for the top of the hill. Just as I
started to approach the crest, I heard the voice
one more time almost shouting. I stepped onto the
peak of the hill and all was fine, no danger, and
no incident. We stood around up there for a minute
looking all around, because from there you could
see for miles in either direction. Then we started
to walk on further, John, a few steps later spoke,
“Jeff let me
carry that rifle and you carry the shotgun.”
I had been the one holding the rifle
until that moment, and I agreed to let him carry
it, because it was not as heavy as the shotgun,
which at the time was why I thought he wanted to
swap. I took the shotgun, turned around and took
maybe three steps. That’s when I heard the safety
click off on the rifle. I knew right away John had
just switched the rifle to the FIRE position. Just
as I started to say John put that gun back on
safe. All I got out was,
“John” That’s when I heard the one single shot fired. It
knocked me to the ground on my knees. My left leg
felt like it was on fire. Still not sure of what
had just happened, I stood up and as I did, I
heard the broken bones in my leg crackling
together. I looked down and saw the blood pumping
hard against my pants, I knew then I had been
shot.
I said;
“John you shot
me!” John said frantically,
“No I didn’t!”
I looked at him and said;
“Yeah you did too John!” I reached down and grabbed my leg
right where the wound was, felt the blood pumping
out in a stream every time my heart would beat. I
brought my hand back up, and John saw the blood in
my hand and started screaming. As he started
screaming, he brought the rifle back up with it
pointed directly at me, and began to fire again. I
spun around to try and not be facing the bullets,
hoping not to get hit again. But the next bullet
that he fired, hit me right in the left hip. The
bullet went in, struck bone and deflected and came
out in the front. Another bullet hit me again,
this time higher, right on the top ridge of my
left hip. He was still firing away in rapid
succession. I knew I couldn’t just stand there
anymore and wait till the rifle was empty, because
I knew it was fully loaded which meant there were
18 shots in it. So I did what I had to do, which
was to turn facing him, facing the bullets. I
lunged forward at him with all my might and when I
did I grabbed the rifle by the end of the barrel,
and jerked it as hard as I could. Just as I pulled
the rifle right up by my head, one final shot was
fired from it, missing my head by about half an
inch, but blowing my right eye completely full of
hot gunpowder and muzzle fire flash. But I got the
rifle away from him, and the shooting was over.
Now my biggest worry was being able to make it
back to the car and drive myself home without
passing out from blood loss.
We began to try and
walk to the car, but my left leg was broken badly
in more than one place, and my ankle wouldn’t
work. I told John he was going to have to let me
lean on his shoulder to get back to the car. He
was crying and hysterical, I leaned on his
shoulder for about ten feet of the way, then he
told me I was too heavy, I was going to have to
get myself back to the car.
I had nothing to wrap
around my leg to stop or slow the bleeding, so I
did the best I could. I took both hands and
wrapped them around my thigh, and held tight to
slow the bleeding and to hold my leg off the
ground so I could hop on my right leg. I did this
for a long ways, and then began to get dizzy, I
remember falling down. I lay there on the ground
thinking this was it; I was going to bleed to
death. That’s when I heard that voice in my ear
again. She said;
“Jeff get up! You
must get up and get yourself out of here, I will
be with you, get up!” I got up and
started to hop on towards the car, and each time I
grew weak or dizzy, I would hear her voice again,
encouraging me onward, telling me I would be ok as
long as I kept moving. Finally we made it back to
the car, I got in and drove as fast as I could
home, because during the driving I could not hold
my leg and control the bleeding so it was just
pouring out of me. When we got home, I didn’t
bother getting out of the car, I just blew the
horn wildly until my older brother Marty and my
mother came running out to see what was wrong.
Marty drove me to the emergency room in Meridian
some 25 miles away. I stayed conscious until they
got me in the back and began working on me.
When I woke up, I
learned the details of the damage. I had been shot
first in the left knee from behind. The bullet
entered through the back of my knee, hit my
patella fracturing it, then deflected off the
patella and from there it traveled down my leg,
ricocheting off both bones between my knee and my
ankle, breaking both bones in four places, the
bullet finally entered through the top of my ankle
joint lodging deep in my ankle shattering it. The
next bullet to strike me, did so in the left hip,
it went in, struck the bone hard, fracturing my
hip bone, then deflecting and exiting my body on
the front.
The third bullet
struck me on the top ridge of my left hip and
deflected upwards in me, but luckily came right
out just above my hip and not staying in my body.
But all in all the worst damage was to my left leg
from the bullet that entered through the back of
my knee. My leg and ankle were virtually
destroyed. I had to have pins placed in both bones
from my knee to my ankle and six month later my
entire ankle joint caved in and had to be
replaced. The worst thing of this was. I was a
baseball player in college at the time, and had
just joined the U.S. Army. Both careers were
killed in an instant.
That was the first
time I heard my guardian angle, and the first time
I ignored her warning voice, but as you will see,
it wouldn’t be the last time.
I had my second
encounter with what I call my guardian angel. I
had just turned 21 years old in November and my
encounter took place that following February.
I had actually just
started steady dating Nancy Robertson, who would a
year later become my wife, Nancy (Cricket) Dean.
As I said, I had
worked all day at the office of Meridian Culvert
Co. My younger brother had kept the truck that
day, I think he had to haul some cattle feed or
something, I can’t rightly remember why right now.
I got off work that
evening at five o’clock, it was a Monday. My
brother was there on time to pick me up soon as I
got off work. I got into the passengers side, and
he drove.
Nothing was unusual,
just like any other day. I wasn’t a seatbelt
wearer before, I had never really buckled up while
in a car or truck, and I didn’t this time as well.
We started out headed
for home, which was some twenty-five miles away.
We made our way through a few city streets and
then onto the interstate. We exited the interstate
at highway eleven and nineteen. Made our way onto
highway 19 north and all was looking fine.
Just then all the
sudden I heard the voice of a lady, she said;
“Buckle Your
Seatbelt Jeff.” I ignored the voice
and we kept traveling towards home. A minute
later, I heard the voice yet again, only this time
much stronger and demanding;
“Buckle Your
Seatbelt Jeff!” But still I ignored
it. The next time I heard it, was about forty-five
seconds later;
“Jeff Buckle Your
Seatbelt NOW!” I ignored it. We were
traveling along highway 19 north out of Meridian,
MS, I was looking out the passenger side window,
when suddenly I heard my brother take a deep quick
breath in fear, I heard him flinch I suppose you
might say. I turned to see what was wrong and
that’s when I seen the headlights, the headlights
of a car traveling southbound. The driver of it
was attempting to pass a car, and was completely
over in our lane, on a head-on collision course
with our vehicle and we were too close and both
were traveling too fast to stop. There was nothing
anyone could do except take the impact of his car
traveling at 75 miles per hour and ours traveling
at sixty-five miles per hour.
The next thing I knew,
I woke up lying on the edge of the highway, unable
to speak because of a broken jaw, and unable to
move because of a sever head injury.
I remember a nurse;
she was driving the car that he was attempting to
pass when he hit us. She was out kneeling beside
me doing all she could for me until the ambulance
arrived. The man that hit us amazingly was able to
walk. He walked up to where I was laying, and
grabbed the nurse by the shoulder and pulled her
back away from me, saying’
“Get up and leave him alone and he will be ok.” Then he
kicked me in the side and said;
“I’m sorry buddy
my brakes went out.” I couldn’t speak
back with him, but I couldn’t help but wonder what
does his brakes going out have to do with him
coming into our lane head-on?
Then he broke and ran,
trying to run away from the seen of the accident
before the police could arrive, but some men that
had witnessed the wreck and were waiting for the
police, took off after him and dragged him back
and held him for the police. He was arrested for
D.U.I. it was his seventh d.u.i. in six months. He
had actually just got out of jail the day before
he hit us, for his 6th driving under
the influence charge.
My injuries in this
wreck were so severe that some people at the scene
thought I was dead, and even the doctors at the
hospital told my family that my chances for
recovery were slim, that they should pray for the
best but to prepare for the worst.
I had to be flown to a
trauma center with a neuro-intensive care unit,
which the closest was in Jackson, MS. I was a
stubborn person I suppose one could say, and I
fought hard, and within two weeks I was showing
great signs of recovery, and soon the guy that
came in on a stretcher with little chance, walked
out under his own power, the doctors were
astonished.
After this tragedy, I
kind of learned to listen to the angel’s voice, to
heed the warnings. But it would be a long time
before I would hear her voice again. In fact a few
years would pass by before I would hear her again,
but she again spoke to me, and knowing the things
I knew from past experiences with her, it gave me
Goosebumps.
I was out hunting
alone at night one night; I had walked across a
small pasture and was about to head down into a
hollow of hardwoods where a small stream trickled
lazily.
Just as I began
stepping from the pasture into the woods, I heard
her voice saying to me;
“Jeff don’t go
into the woods, something bad will happen.”
I stopped, froze in my tracks. I stood there
for a few minutes, and decided I wanted to test
her just a little bit. I took a couple more steps
into the woods and again she spoke;
“Jeff stay out of
the woods, turn around and go home now!”
Again I stopped, froze dead in my tracks,
Goosebumps popped on my arms and a chill went
through my whole body. Right then and there I
turned around and started my walk headed for home.
I made it safely home without a scratch. I told my
wife about the voice as I had told her in the past
when it happened, and the first words from her
were; “Did you
listen and not go into the woods?” I
laughed and said;
“Well I wanted to
test her.” Immediately Nancy rolled
her eyes in disbelief.
“ I wanted to test
her so I took a couple of steps into the woods to
see if she would speak again, and she did, so
right then and there I turned around and came
home.” Nancy made a sarcastic remark
about me testing the voice and commented that I
should never test such a thing, that I should be
glad it is there and just listen to it every time,
which I do now.
I don’t hear the voice
very often anymore, but every now and then she
will pop up and speak to me, like if I am driving
down the highway, there have been a couple of
times, that suddenly I heard the voice tell me to
get off this certain road or highway, and I always
do it, and have not been in any accidents since I
started listening to it.
Now I do not have any
proof of what this is or is not. Some of you may
call it insanity or paranoia, or whatever you
choose. I did not write this story to make you
believe in angels or disbelieve in them. I didn’t
write it to make you believe in a Heaven or Hell,
a God or Satan. I wrote it because it is what
happens to me. I am a Christian, so it is my own
personal belief that this is some guardian angel
here to guide me and protect me, much like the
angel my grandmother told me about when I was a
kid. For all I know it could be my grandmother.
She was such a loving and caring lady on earth,
that it would not surprise me one bit to know that
she is walking with me every day watching out for
me. It sounds just like something she would do.
Personally, I like to tell myself that it is my
grandmother, Mamaw; Mamaw is what I called her as
did all my brothers and cousins. I don’t really
know, all I know is that I am happy it is with me
and that something so good, caring and kind could
only be sent from Heaven. I am just thankful I
have it with me.
I’m much older than I
was at age nineteen when I first heard the voice
of my angel. But thankfully I haven’t outgrown
her, for she is still with me every day.
Protecting me from myself, and others as well. I
hope both of my son’s will have this angel with
them throughout their lives as well. If not this
same one, then one just like her, guiding them and
warning them of any impending dangers as well.
It’s been awhile now
since I have heard from my little angel, but oh
she’s there, just waiting for the next time I need
her. And I can rest assured if the time does come
again that I do, she will be there as she always
has.
But forever you and I
can make you this promise, any time she does show
up, you can believe this is one old fellow that
will always listen to The Voice Of The Angel In My
Ear.
The End
Written: June 29,
2006
By: J. Lewis Dean
Email:
JLewisDean @ aol.com |
