In early August of 1999, I had been seeing cemetery transcriptions on the internet listing all the data on every headstone. I began to feel like I should do this for Victor Cemetery near where I was raised, and where much of my family was buried. When I finally told my husband, he just asked when I wanted to go. It was a very hot summer in Texas and I was 1,000 miles away, yet it was often cold during our occasional Christmas visits. So I told him I really needed to go in the spring or fall. We set a tentative date, then set those thoughts aside. The very next day, my uncle died and was going to be buried in that same cemetery. As I set about preparing to go, I told my husband I would have to record the cemetery data while I was there, as I didnít feel we could afford another trip.
On the day after the funeral, August 16, 1999, I gathered up cold drinks, hat, and sunglasses, and drove the few miles to the cemetery at dawn. I wasnít sure how long it would take, but was hoping I could do it in three mornings. The grass was so dry and brittle, it turned to dust underfoot, but a cool breeze blew all morning. I worked steadily for a couple of hours, being very careful to make sure I didnít miss any stones. I was writing in my notebook when it happened. Something bumped into my right arm and then immediately bumped into my left arm. I looked up startled to find myself in the midst of a crowd. I couldnít count them, but my impression was that there were about a hundred angels, all dressed in white. Many were crowded up around me, with others being scattered 30 or 40 feet away. In the split second before I could get scared, because Iíll admit thatís the direction my thoughts took, I realized they were rejoicing. It is impossible to be afraid of someone who is rejoicing. And then they were gone. Or at least gone from my view. I have no doubt they were still there, but I could no longer see them.
They were all dressed in white. I could not see their faces or their hands, but my impression was that their hands were raised towards Heaven. I saw them with my eyes, but I could not see details, because of their brightness. They looked like light bulbs turned on.
I finished recording the data about noon on the second day. The cool breeze continued until about a half hour before I finished. My parents assured me there was no cool breeze anywhere else in the state. And I could feel the bumps on my arms for about two weeks before they faded away.
I have no doubt but that the hundred or so I saw were the spirits of some of those buried there, and that they were rejoicing because of the record I was making and that they wouldnít be forgotten. I shall certainly never forget them.
Elayne Pair Gibbons