Location: Keswick, Ontario Canada
Date of Encounter: 2000
I am half-English and half-Cherokee Indian. Both my parents were born in England – I was adopted at birth. My birth mom is English, and dad, who I never met, is Cherokee.
Anyway… I used to sing in a hard rock band, and the guitar player is Ojibwa Indian, and the bass player was Ojibwa Indian also.
Just as the band was in negotiations with a distributor, I became born again at that time and quit the band. My wife had also given me an ultimatum… the band or the family… I chose wisely! It didn't go over too good with the rest of the group, but I was living a heathen's life — and no details!
It was years until any of them would speak to me, but eventually the guitar player, Dave, began to see where I was coming from, and we continued in our friendship.
Dave was born in Toronto, miles away from the nearest Indian reserve, but when he reached his twenties, he decided to get in touch with his ancestors, and the Indian lifestyle.
Dave moved to a reserve north of Toronto in Orillia, called Rama. He quickly got into Indian spiritualism and customs. The trouble was Dave fell in with a man who was the leader of an Indian cult, but as hard as I tried to warn Dave, he refused to listen. The leader wasn't even Indian! Dave explained that "Hendrick" was Indian in "spirit." This Hendrick fellow had some very weird ideas, and Dave questioned his ways to me several times, but refused to follow his own gut instincts.
Dave began to act more and more bizarre, and eventually, I began to seriously worry about his mental health.
One day I got a phone call from Dave and he sounded like a lunatic. He wasn't making any sense as he attempted to speak to me about some kind of serious trouble he was in. All I managed to get out of him that made any sense was that he was on his way to my house from Georgian Bay, which was about a three hours drive.
Dave showed up at my door with crazy eyes. They were as wide as pie plates. Dave told me he was under spiritual attack and that he was on the run trying to hide from some Indians who were after him. He asked me to hold onto this medicine bag he had and I reluctantly did so. He told me he would return for it when it was safe, and off he went.
It was pure madness, but I couldn't calm him down, so I took the bag. I placed it on my cabinet in the living room, and forgot about it.
That very night I was on my couch watching TV. It was about 1 AM, and I began to feel very disorientated. I felt as though I was drugged, and I began to sweat. I could barely move, and I recall sort of waking up, and falling asleep throughout the night. I woke up again and looked toward my kitchen. There, sitting at my table in the dark, was a figure of a man with a cowboy hat on — the kind that Clint Eastwood used to wear in his early westerns, not the big turned-up brim type. The TV was off, and the room was almost pitch black, but I could make him out with little trouble.
He was dressed all in black. He looked like a figure out of a western the way he was dressed. He had a black shirt on, and a black vest, and black pants with black cowboy boots.
His face was dark gray and his eyes were also black. He was sitting facing the wall, which put him at a sideways position to where I was, but his head turned slowly toward where I was, and he grimaced at me menacingly.
I was terrified, and it was the absolute worst fear of my life. I was still very groggy, and I could barely move, but all at once I got seriously angry. I got angry because this thing had caused me such terror, and I didn't like it! All at once I gathered all my strength, and I sat up on the couch, and I screamed at this thing..
"Get out of my house you evil demon from hell! I am a child of the King, and you have no power over me, now get out!" I screamed very, very loud, and believe me, being a hard rock singer for so many years, I can scream. It evaporated in front of me, and was gone.
I was so weak that I instantly lay back down, and went to sleep.
I woke up early the next morning, and told my wife what I saw. She heard nothing, and neither did my kids. I couldn't believe it, because I really let out a holler.
That day I took the medicine bag outside and burned it. Dave phoned me a few days later sounding as right as rain.
I was angry with him for bringing that evil into my home, and told him so. I relayed the story to him, and he got very quiet. He told me the thing I saw had been squatting in his hall room closet for days before he ran away in fear. He realized afterward that it must have been that medicine bag that brought it all on. He had linked up with another Indian cult group through his contact with the group from Hendrick, and that second group was heavy into summoning up their ancient ancestors. When Dave got uncomfortable with that group and tried to leave them, they offered him the medicine bag as a show of "love" and told him he would not be safe without the protection of the group!
He has left all that stuff behind, and has been no further trouble.