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Story #1
I spent half of my career as a photographer in local television news.
On 'slow' news days we would oftentimes fill in extra time in newscasts with fire aftermath
stories.
The fire would already be out, but we'd go and film the damage.
And this was in the days of film.
That meant our cameras could only record at certain light levels, and
filming in the evening or night would require artificial lighting.
For just 'spot news' video we'd use a portable battery pack (a Frezzi) to
operate a quartz light attached to the camera.
Well, I was working the evening shift one weekend and was sent to cover fire
aftermath at a house in the Hough area.
I got the usual exterior shots, and then decided to get a 'different' shot.
(I always tried to find one 'new' shot on every story I covered. (Sometimes
they worked, sometimes they didn't...)
So I decided to get some interiors.
Now it was already dusk, so when I entered the burned out home, I'd 'flash'
my portable light to see where I wanted to walk to.
I'd only 'flash' the light to conserve the batteries.
Once the batteries ran down, no more filming.
So I flashed the living room and walked to my shooting location in the dark.
I then flashed the stairwell, so I could get a shot of the burned debris on
the front lawn from a second floor window.
As I started to go up the stairs in the dark, a tiny voice told me to 'go no
further'...
It wasn͛t said in words, just a powerful ominous feeling.
I chastised myself for being afraid of the dark, and continued up the
stairs.
About half way up, the 'voice' was markedly stronger: 'Don't go up any
further!'
But I decided to conquer my fears and went up a few more steps.
Now the 'voice' was screaming at me: "Stop! Don't Move!"
It was at this point that I thought to myself 'Screw it' I'll flash my light
to check the steps.
What I saw blew me away...
In two steps I would have reached the landing... a landing that wasn't
there!
I would have fallen two floors down into the basement.
My breath was taken away.
I was moments from dying in a horrific fall.
I made my way back down the stairs and considered my incredible good luck.

Story #2
Parades were a staple of daily news, and I was assigned a 4th of July parade
(at least I think it was the 4th of July - all those parades tend to blur
together) and decided I would lay down with my camera in the middle of
Euclid Avenue between the double yellow lines and get a shot of a National
Guard tank approaching and rolling over me and my camera.
I stopped the tank and asked the young soldier if he would mind driving over
me, and he didn't see a problem.
I asked him to wait just a moment more so I could measure the clearance at
the front of the tank to make sure it would clear me and the camera.
Now the camera we used back then was a CP-16 with 'Mickey Mouse' ear shaped
magazines that held 400 feet of Ektachrome news film.
The film magazine cleared the front bottom of the tank with inches to spare.
So I laid down on the street with my camera.
But the 'voice' was back and insistent: get out of the way!
The parade was waiting so I had to make a quick choice.
Normally I would never leave my camera, but this time I did.
I left it between the double yellow lines and turned it on.
As I signaled the tank driver to go ahead, I went and stood at the corner of
9th & Euclid.
The tank approached the camera without a problem...
But - imagine my shock - to see a crumpled camera after the tank passed by.
People on the street were saying, 'I bet he gets fired for doing that!'
And I thought they could be right.
But what the hell happened????
The tank driver stopped to see if everything was OK.
And while he was stopped, I picked up my crumpled camera and measured the
back of the tank.
IT WAS DIFFERENT! IT WAS LOWER!
Who knew?
I couldn't believe it!
And once again, I thanked my voice.

Story #3
A friend of mine, Steve, and I used to do occasional free lance work.
The Richfield Coliseum had recently been completed but there was a serious
problem...
Traffic!
The State of Ohio opted to not build an interchange to allow easy access to
the coliseum, so there were incredibly long entrance and exit times from the
various events.
The Coliseum hired us to do a film study of the traffic patterns to see what
could be done.
One of us would film from the roof, and the other would get selected
helicopter shots.
We would film both the arriving and departing traffic.
Now normally doing a helicopter shoot would be an adrenalin perk.
But this time it was strange.
I couldn't quite put my finger on why, but I decided to let Steve do both
helicopter shots.
But his response surprised me.
He was going to offer me the same deal!
So we flipped a coin and Steve went up first.
Something kept gnawing at me while I was filming on the roof, and I kept
listening for the sound of the chopper's motor failing...
But, no, the chopper landed a half hour later with no problems.
I now had the duration of the concert to ponder my predicament.
Something was warning me to stay away from this helicopter.
It was a summer evening so I went out to see I could determine a cause for
concern.
The chopper was a bubble front version made by Bell.
It was pretty much a skeleton structure, so I could look at all the welds
and cables.
And so I did.
I looked at everything.
But everything was OK.
So I looked at the pilot.
He seemed calm and not particularly concerned about anything.
He was just waiting and having a cigarette or two.
I didn't like this at all.
I had this really strong feeling to not get on this particular chopper at
this particular time, but could find nothing to validate that feeling.
The concert started to empty out.
Rats!
It was a clear night and an amazingly huge full moon was just breaking the
horizon to the east.
It was gorgeous.
And I picked up my camera.
But the voice was not finished!
Not nearly!
It screamed at me to NOT GET ON THAT CHOPPER!
I was frozen in my tracks.
I was in an impossible situation.
And, for reasons I am hard pressed to explain, I went one foot after the
other and boarded the craft.
As I was tightening my seatbelt I remember thinking, 'Such a beautiful
evening, and yet it is the evening that I must die...'
We took off and I began my filming.
And we landed a half hour later.
I could not believe it!
We landed.
I was OK.
What the heck?!
I listened to the radio on the way home trying to hear any bulletins of a
helicopter crash.
Nothing...
I was totally mystified...
The next morning I asked Steve about his reason to give up the helicopter.
He told me his girlfriend had been having nightmares for the past
week about this particular job.
She told Steve not to go up...

Folo...
It took me years to finally figure this out...
At least I think I've figured it out...
I assumed my near escapes from the first two potential tragedies were due to
the work of an angel.
Oh yes, it was the work of an angel, but I assumed it was my guardian angel.
But now I see it may have very well been the work of one of Satan's minions.
The first two situations were simply to build my confidence...
Had I yielded to the voice on this third occasion, the 'voice' would have
owned me.
Whatever the voice suggested, or shouted, I would follow.
I would willingly abandon my free will!
My single most precious gift from God!
Now... in light of this discernment... I realize just how insidiously evil
can slither into our lives.
Discernment is NOT child's play!
It's deadly earnest!
God help me on my journey...