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While providing a recent reading it dawned on me that having the assistance of a psychic medium when conducting genealogical research could be very useful.  Allow me to illustrate.

A few years ago I was asked to connect a person with a long lost family member. The only information I was provided was a request to speak with a Native American as she had heard from another family member that “there was Indian blood in her family.”

Very quickly I established a connection with a gentleman who told me that he was the one we were looking for. He told me that he was Osage and that he had met her ancestor in the late 1700s. He himself was part French and had been unwelcome in his tribe “being a half-breed” and so he had left the tribe and became a traveling “medicine man.” He had partnered up with a Frenchman and they traversed the country selling their potions and elixirs from town to town. It was during one of these travels that he met this woman’s relative and he confessed to not knowing that he had made her pregnant. He also told me that he had been with the woman when she was only 16!

It was following the revelation that the girl was only 16 when she became pregnant that really confirmed the individual was who he claimed to be – and that I had a solid connection with him. The only detail that my client was fully aware of, was that her relative was 16 at the time she became pregnant by the Native American and that he had not been around for the child.

What a great connection … they communicated a bit more and than the reading was done. Recently I solved another family mystery. A woman who I had read for several times had requested a fourth reading. Over the course of the past few years she had asked me to connect her with one of her guides, or anyone else in spirit who had a message for her. Each time I gave her a reading, I saw the same individual coming through. He had sandy blonde hair with red highlights, and among other things always was dressed in a plaid shirt. He was fit with a muscular build and and handsome features. She had no idea who he was. He would tell her that he was related to her, but that she did not know him.

During this most recent connection with the “mystery man” the woman who I was reading for, made an ultimatum. She said that unless he revealed his relationship to her, that she would ignore him and have nothing to do with him. He pleaded that it was best if she just accepted his terms and she stood her ground. He then revealed his true identity and relationship to her. He was her real grandfather, her grandmother had an affair, became pregnant and passed off the resulting child as being one of her husbands. Now it became very clear why he had such an interest in her welfare and why he was being so secretive as to his identity. The story he told was quite scandalous, yet fit as the woman remembered that her grandparents relationship had been difficult and fairly loveless, not hard to imagine her grandmother seeking comfort in the arms of another man and then hiding the true identity of the child’ father.

Once I had one of my own relatives come through and apologize for the behavior of another family member. It was not until I reviewed a copy of my family tree that I saw the name of the person who had come through to me. She gave me her name and said that she was to blame in part for the way that one of the men in our family had treated his own family. She gave me the name of the kid she was referring to, which I recognized as being a relative of mine, however I did not recognize her name. It turned out that she was the mother of the family member she was apologizing for, no wonder she felt partly responsible.

All of this has led me to believe that when used properly, a good psychic medium can become an invaluable resource when researching ones family tree. When you really think about it, it’s incredible … the ability to connect with long lost relatives, discover true causes of death, unravel family mysteries and unearth “skeletons” in the closet. I can imagine that this would be useful for those who are adopted and for those who have lost all family records.  It is of course important to note that in some cases it may not be a good idea to connect with “long lost” relatives, though I believe in the majority of cases, it would be wonderful to be able to make such connections.

If you wish to learn more about Charles Peden visit www.charlespeden.com.

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I was born in Rogue River, Oregon and after a relatively uneventful first two years, (not that I remember them) my brother was born. Life was good, I was the child of a couple of hippies and there was no public school and … no TV. When not attending to schoolwork or chores my brother and I, could be found hiking around the thousands of acres of forest land that we lived within.

I spent most of my childhood near or on the Oregon coast. Florence, Coosbay, Tillamook and the small towns in between was where I spent the early years of my life. Soon after being born my parents moved to a commune between the coast and Eugene. I then recall our family living in a farmhouse close to where the commune was. When I was about five we moved to a tiny whistle-stop of a town, so small it has since been erased off of the map. It was here that my first brush with my future would occur, a future I would only find out about twenty-seven years later.

Canary was a very small community near the coast south of Florence and here our post office and barber shop were one and the same. Around five years old I began experiencing intense flying dreams where I would find myself running from the top of the driveway all the way down towards the house, but I never would make it all the way down the driveway. At some point I ceased running and simply was flying over the house and the adjacent woods. Soon I found that in order to fly in my dreams that I simply need to rock back and forth very quickly, as if on a swing where I would swing back and forth faster and faster until I was airborne … no, more as if I was laying down on my back and rocking back and forth until I would simply float up, roll over and fly off.

The dreams were very vivid and I would often find myself doing some extensive exploring of the woods. One night I dreamt of a cabin in the woods with an apple tree in front and it was very detailed. The following day my brother and I went hiking. We ended up in an unfamiliar part of the woods and I soon began to make out landmarks from my dream. We came into a bit of a clearing and just as I had seen in my dream, there was this abandoned cabin with an apple tree in front. The place was in complete disrepair and seemed to have been there for well over twenty, thirty or more years.

We lived in a double wide mobile home and though it was no Taj Mahal, we called it home and loved it. We had over six acres of beautiful forest land within the mountainous coastal region of Oregon. The rivers and streams were teeming with wildlife. With the help of a backhoe, a caterpillar and a drilling rig, we turned that place into a homestead. Fruit trees were planted, gardens were seeded and grass was sown. Life was good, I had two great parents who though not exactly conventional, did the best they could.

My Father was raised Pentecostal while my Mother was raised Catholic. Dad went into seminary school while Mom attended Catholic School. After they both became disillusioned regarding their respective faiths, they broke with convention and struck out on their own. It was the late sixties and what a time to be angry at the establishment, they rebelled and ended up finding each other in a health food store and bookshop in Mount Shasta, California. Soon after they discovered the Eastern gurus.

They found one particular guru who they seemed to resonate with and for the next several years I would find myself singing songs in a language that I did not understand when attending the Thursday night meetings with fellow devotees. This was a confusing time in my life and not an easy one, not many of the other kids understood my parents faith, let alone myself, I just wanted to be “normal”.

As a child my parents owned a natural food candy bar company. They would print little sayings and inspirational quotes on the backs of their labels, so that the person eating it would not only have his body nourished, but perhaps his mind and his soul. Speaking of souls, When about six years old I recall seeing what I thought to be the ghost of a fur trapper. In our home.

We had a walk in closet that had been converted into a prayer room. We had a heavy piece of fabric that functioned as a door. It was located in the middle of the hallway which connected my Father’s office, our bedroom, a bathroom and prayer room with the living room.

One day while in our room, my brother and I thought we saw a shadowy figure walk from the bathroom into the prayer room. After a few more sightings, I asked Mom if she saw anything. She replied that she did not and then added that such things did not exist. I was a bit puzzled at her reply since I had sworn that I seen him, as did my brother. I don’t recall much else about it, though I do recollect his appearance in great detail. He had a coonskin hat on with buckskins, the kind with the fringe. He had a long rifle slung over his back and seemed to be carrying a Bowie knife in his right hand. He held his knife at the ready and was hunched over as if trying to sneak up on someone.

Around this time I suppressed my abilities, it was not a conscious decision, but rather a choice I made subconsciously. After being rebuked by my parents a few times when I had approached them regarding unexplained occurrences, I stopped mentioning them and they seemed to stop on their own accord. It was not until many years later that I would understand my childhood.

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