As a paranormal investigator I am occasionally asked if I believe in UFOs, although my specific field of research is in life after death survival, I am however still an investigator of strange phenomena. I do believe there is something going on; be it aliens, beings from another dimension or humans coming back from our future to correct another scientific mess, I am unsure. What I do know is history rarely lies so as an investigator that is where I look for truth. After I was asked this question I took one event out of history to examine, that incident was the reported crash of an alien space craft in Roswell New Mexico in 1947. I skimmed over the testimony of many people who all say they saw things, heard things and examined artifacts that couldn’t be explained. I was extremely curious about Major Jesse Marcel who was the 509 bomb groups intelligence officer for the only air base in the world which held nuclear weapons and was the stand in to fly The Enola Gay, the B-29 Super fortress bomber that dropped the first atomic bomb, code-named “Little Boy” on Hiroshima, Japan on 6 August 1945, you would think a man with his credentials would know about top secret equipment and should be able to tell a weather balloon from a spaceship. However I allowed the skeptics a reprieve for a moment and agreed that yes over time people forget, they remember things incorrectly. That doesn’t explain the Major’s testimony in the news paper the day after the event. However in all fairness I agreed the argument could go either way. That is why I look to history, somewhere in history there is information that will either back up this testimony or it will not.
Extremely patient, always watchful and faster than a heart beat the Grim Reaper has his eye on each one of us, he knows we will all have a turn at shaking his hand as he leads us to the river one day, after all there is no cheating death.
The Reaper is as old if not older than human kind, he has been assigned by the guy riding the pale horse to collect and guide us as we shed our physical selves.
He is not alone but one of an army of Reapers working just beyond our perception, shadowed in mystery and symbolism.
It was not until the 15th century that we started to paint a terrifying picture of what the Reaper has become known as, a skeletal figure in a long black cloak carrying a scythe and sometimes an hour glass, all symbolic of death and our own mortality. The skeletal image comes from a time when the plague ate its way through Europe and people associated death with rotting bodies, the cloak represents an air of mystery as death could come unnoticed at any time, the scythe to assist in reaping the souls for death’s harvest, and the hour glass shows us that our time here is finite and will with all certainty run out.
But are they out there?