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REGINA OCHOA'S COLUMBIA JOURNAL
On February 1, 2003, NASA's Space Shuttle Columbia was destroyed upon re-entry, killing its crew of seven.
VERSION 2, 4-7-20
Following are the personal notes of trance-medium Regina Ochoa, who, along with trance-medium Jeanne Love, conducted a wide-ranging, two-day channeling session on February 16th and 17th, 2019. The session was held in a private home in the heart of Silicon Valley, and witnessed and recorded by a team of FMBR scientists and others. In this session, all seven Columbia crewmembers and several of the earlier Challenger crew communicated verbally and energetically, some at length.
Columbia Journal, Part 1
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Chadron, Nebraska to Los Angeles, California
It was an excellent day to fly. I didn’t have to catch the early-bird flight and could be dropped at the Chadron, Nebraska Airport at 10:30 a.m. for the 11:45 a.m. direct shot to Denver. While waiting for TSA to open their screening, I was suddenly aware of the whop-whop-whop of helicopter blades cutting through the morning air. I knew it was close.
I ran outside the terminal in hopes of watching it land at the helipad, but I was too late. A large green military transport helicopter taxied its way to the building. The rotors were still circling as they slowly came to a stop. A mechanic jumped out; I snapped a photo. My adrenaline was soaring. Stuff like this always gets me excited, but today, it seemed more intense than usual.
Was it the jet exhaust, or the copter’s engine sound, or the whirl of the blades as they cut the air? Was this excitement all me?
As soon as I asked the question, my answer appeared. Instantly, I was flanked by the entire flight crew of the Columbia mission STS 107. "Ah, yes! Of course. I’m in good company," I thought to myself. Moreover, I knew the Challenger team was with me, too.
I was shoving my camera lens between the links of the cyclone fence that separated me from the tarmac.
I kept hearing, “Let’s go check out this gal!”
Just as quickly as the astronauts had appeared next to me, they all strolled toward the helicopter.
I was left behind the fence. I could hear both crews chatter with each other as they made their way to the craft. I just shook my head. I thought, “This is going to be an interesting and unpredictable trip.”
TSA called out to me as I headed back into the terminal. The screening had begun.
Security at our little Chadron Municipal Airport (CDR) is pretty simple. My thoughts wandered to the Columbia and Challenger crews. While waiting for our 9-passenger Pilatus plane to arrive, I heard "someone" whisper in my ear, “Which Columbia crew member flew helicopters?”
“Good question. I have no idea,” I responded.
Ok, I’ll bite. So into the web, I dove. I typed into my phone, “Which Columbia crew member flew helicopters?”
On my first hit, I got this: N175PA and STS-107.
This article came up:
The ‘Columbia’ Debris Recovery Helo Crash. March 27, 2003.
I had never heard this story. But it was about the Columbia debris recovery crew who had searched more than 1.3 million acres and recovered thousands of debris pieces as a result of their air-search operations. More importantly, my attention was brought to this story by the two pilots who had died during this recovery process: Jules F. “Buzz” Mier and Charles Krenek.
On March 27, 2003, while flying over the debris field, their Bell helicopter, with three other passengers, went down. Both pilots in the cockpit were killed instantly in the crash; the passengers survived. As I read this article, I realized both pilots stood next to me at the Chadron airport. Immediately, I was overwhelmed by their death. The loss of two more flight personnel! “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,” I repeated to myself.
Both Mier and Krenek had lost their lives as part of the Columbia Recovery program, but little had been written about them. On the website, I read that there had been a three-quarter-ton 2-foot tall monument erected to them in the town of Hemphill, TX. It stood near the one-ton, 5-foot tall columns built for Columbia’s crew.
Now, in our tiny Chadron airport, both men stood next to me. Neither felt ostentatious nor particularly ‘big’ in their own energy.
It was then that I noticed Challenger crew member Judy Resnik. It was Judy who had brought pilots Mier and Krenek to me. It was Judy who had whispered into my ear. She wanted me to recognize these two crewmen.
. . . . .
“They are part of the Columbia crew, too,” Judy said. “These and the many others who helped bring us home. Those pieces of our shuttle and our remains. They are our heroes and a part of this story.”
Tears welled up from deep inside me. I had to put on my sunglasses so the other passengers wouldn't see me cry.
Judy then led both pilots away from me, assuring them that they will not be forgotten. The depth of this new information washed over me. The grief, so painfully present, 16 years later. I never knew.
When I boarded our small aircraft that would fly low and just over the tops of the Nebraska Panhandle’s terrain, Mier and Krenek boarded the plane as well. They peered out the window. I felt like I was in mourning. My tears – or were they theirs? – flowed freely.
My heart was heavy.
How could I not have known?
Why hadn’t I been shown this story years ago?
So many more questions poured from me and out to the universe of spirits, and to the Columbia crew over the next several hours.
I landed in LAX after a breathtaking flight from Denver over the Rockies, across the Great Plains of Colorado, Utah and Nevada, and on into California. Near our approach, the 737 swept over the San Gabriels between Mount San Antonio and San Gorgonio Mountain, now covered in a much-needed snowpack. I grew up in this area and knew these mountains well. They brought up early high school memories of backpacking and of flying over this same range with my neighbor in his 4-seater Cessna. I hadn’t thought of that in years!
I heard one of my invisible seatmates say, “Those were pretty fun times.”
“Yes. Yes, they were.” I replied.
I looked around the cabin. I could now see the entire NASA team filling the already-occupied seats. The Apollo 1 crew: Gus Grissom, Roger Chaffee. There were John Glenn and Alan Shepard, the Challenger crew, and the Columbia crew. There were many others, too; I didn’t know them all, but they knew each other. It seemed I was flying in a different time frame, in another world, because these passengers were all flight personnel and very much deceased. Today’s AA’s flight was definitely overbooked!
The mourning for two pilots turned into a grand reunion of former pilots. All of whom had tried to reach the stars. What a flight!
I heard Judy Resnik whisper to me, “Get ready, you ain’t seen nothing yet! We – you – are only just getting started.”
"Oh my," I thought, “I wonder if this is what a countdown feels like!”
Columbia Journal, Part 2
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
La Habra, California
I am here at Jeanne’s in the Los Angeles area for another whirlwind time of a visit. I flew in two days ago, landed in LAX.
The experiences on that flight day were eye-opening. They were only the beginning of what was to be a regular occurrence in my travels for the next week.
Earlier in the week, the late Bob Shacklett, a founding member of the FMBR, had assigned me a task: to keep a daily log of events.
Friday, January 15, 2019
La Habra to Sunnyvale
Jeanne and I drove to Sunnyvale.
We left La Habra at 10:30 am. We stopped now and then, but the drive was incredible. It had been raining since Wednesday and today the sky was cloudy all the way, with some rain showers. But the day was exquisite and the drive was beautiful.
Driving through the Pacheco Pass left us speechless as the clouds lay low and heavy with rain. There was mist drifting up from the San Louis Reservoir. For the entire drive the low rolling hills were neon green and the many other shades of green. It was an immensely beautiful 7-plus hours on the road. So glad we had this opportunity.
We arrived at Jerry Gin’s at 6. Jerry & Peggy, and our videogrpaher, were waiting for us to sit down for dinner. Peggy had fixed us a lovely mushroom soup, then baked salmon, with pulled pork and a kale salad. Yummy.
Lively conversation was at hand, and a lot of laughter.
Columbia Journal, Part 3
Saturday, February 16, 2019, Sunnyvale, California
This morning I felt awful before we began our 10 a.m. session.
Several members from FMBR would be at hand to sit with Jeanne and me for a channeling session that would include the crews of both the "lost" Space Shuttles, Challenger and Columbia.
Our team’s videographer was up early, setting cameras, lights and sound equipment in the meeting room. I walked past the filming area. The energy was buzzing in there, crowded from all the entities and discarnates milling around.
I felt nauseous and terrified. My heart was racing, and dread was enveloping me.
Jeanne assured me my anxiety was coming from the Columbia crew because it was their first public channeling session. They were the anxious ones.
So if these feelings were not mine, then whose were they? I hadn't a clue.
Our channeling session wouldn’t even begin for a couple of hours. How was I going to manage the anxiety until then?
I just wanted it all to go away. Everything, including our commitment to the crew. "It was just too much for me!" I told Jeanne.
She laughed and said the entity I was carrying was having a bit of test anxiety. Always the teacher, Jeanne can spot nerves in any student.
Flustered and frustrated, I took a deep breath and walked out the door.
“Water, I need lots of water. I am dehydrated,” I thought. My stomach was in my throat now.
“Are we done yet?” I yelled out from inside my head.
Breakfast helped a bit. The FMBR team began arriving for the preset time.
I took a seat in the pre-assigned chair. Jeanne sat to my left. I was a scared and cornered cat, ready to hiss and claw my way out of the room.
“Ho’oponopono,” I repeated over and over to steady myself.
With my nerves now on hyperdrive, I recalled such uneasiness channeling individual members of the Challenger crew back in the late ‘80s.
Today, nearly 30 years later, Jeanne and I and members of the FMBR team were merging energies and frequencies with the flight crew of the Space Shuttle Columbia, who lost their lives on its fateful mission, STS-107.
Our commitment was to deliver the crew’s messages where it could be heard by more than just Jeanne and me.
With that self-reminder I quickly settled, then drifted away as Jeanne began to lead the meditation.
Richard Scobee, Challenger's Commander
I know when it is one of the Challenger Crew who wants to chat, as my head often itches or becomes irritated at the crown. It is an identifying aspect of their energy to me. So I knew someone from that team would be first to come through.
Commander Richard Scobee was the first crew member to request permission to speak. I recognized him instantly.
Scobee spoke deliberately with his message. I could tell there were pressing energies shoving themselves forward into our physical space. I assumed Jeanne would be channeling simultaneously with me.
I don’t remember anything that Commander Scobee shared, just the sense of gratitude for allowing us to channel their story. So as I sat with his energy, I wondered who Jeanne would be bringing in. I fell to the side of my physical body and slipped into another realm.
Rick Husband, Columbia’s Commander
Suddenly, I felt myself being pushed through the atmosphere at high speed, down into my own body. I knew this was not me, and yet it was. I fell into my body with such ferocity that I was hyperventilating. I couldn’t catch a breath. I was gasping for air, unable to find my existence, my body in this altered reality. As I fell into my body, I seemed to pass through layers upon layers of experiences. I could see time frames of memories, slideshows of events, and traumas of lifetimes. I had no reference point for why, when, or how. But they were entire lifetimes I was living, living now. Painful ones and joyful ones flashed through my body.
I see myself moving up and out from where I just traveled. All the while, I’m still falling through these lives – elaborate scenes of events. And then, I landed. I was present. In my body. But not as me.
I am Commander Rick Husband. I knew the passages were his many lifetimes and existences. The layers I fell through were the traumas of these lives, all happening simultaneously. As I was experiencing this, so was Husband or vice versa.
The final lifetime trauma I fell through was the last moment before Husband’s death. The final moments of his time in the Columbia Shuttle.
He was in complete panic internally while demonstrating control and/or lack thereof of the Columbia as it was beginning to enter its final 16 seconds of atmospheric entry.
I could feel him trying to jar his memory to ‘reset’ himself. He had had thousands of hours of training for just this type of emergency. He struggled to gain control of a dire situation. He fumbled with getting his gear on while looking over at his fellow crewmates and seeing their harnessed bodies jerked in their seats. They were already unconscious from the lack of oxygen.
Was this Husband’s accurate memory? Or is this a trained response to an emergency event?
I could distinctly hear the breaking of bones of the bodies of the crew as they slammed about within their harnessed seats. The crew’s suits appeared to be on improperly, haphazardly left as each member became unconscious.
Only, Husband seemed to be there. Present. (Was he? His memory saw this, and yet I now question what part of him experienced this moment in time. Had he stepped away from his physical self, if he was already unconscious, and only energetically projected this event? Was this so that I could witness this experience?
Even unconsciously, he responded as trained for an emergency.
Husband’s energy melded with mine, locking into every particle of my being. Being able to breathe through this channeling felt near impossible. I don’t know if it was I who was gasping for air or Husband. The shame that he carried and sorrow for the responsibility of his crew dying, and that they were not able to complete STS-107’s mission seemed almost unbearable.
I sensed the entire crew was carrying his energy. They tried to let him know the disaster was not his fault.
But I was channeling the very humanness of Husband. I felt like my mind and my personality fractured into at least ten individuals.
I could not tell where my physical body ended and where Husband’s began. His mental anguish pained me while his tears flowed within. Our heartbeat pounded together in my chest. My body was now overheating.
As Husband spoke, he cried. Shame weighed down each breath he took. I could feel Jeanne placing her hand on my back, keeping Husband tethered, from being out of control, and keeping me within reach of "myself.” His panic slowly subsided.
He desperately wanted to shout that there is Life after Life. That only the body is gone. He also wanted us to know that crewmember KC (Kalpana Chawla) had helped them through the after-death process.
Husband said there is a type of debriefing that goes on in such disaster trauma as the Columbia crew experienced, including revisiting the time of passage and how it occurred. Debriefing helps to let the trauma release.
Husband took me to a building to which they all were brought after the disastrous event. Here they were being processed and rehabilitated. He shared that it was a new experience to have to exist without the physical body. Some had more difficulty with this than others. KC was not having an issue with any of this training, where Husband felt that every step along the way showed me that he questioned the method. I could sense the frustration he had with all of this. He wanted a sense of normalcy, yet nothing about this after-death experience seemed even remotely sane.
Husband understands now that although he thought he was in his body trying desperately to correct the shuttle reentry, he was, in fact, unconscious and that it was another part of himself (I am telling him this is an out-of-body experience). [Husband, energetically, was working frantically to maintain some control of the spacecraft. A least this part of him remained with the shuttle until its fiery destruction.]
Mental, emotional, physical, and psychological exhaustion swept over me. I couldn’t hold Husband’s energy much longer. I was grateful to hear Jeanne’s suggestion to Husband that it was ok for him to leave me and collect himself. He had shared enough for our group about the descent of the Columbia and his journey.
Painful as this channeling was, Husband experienced a “liberation.” But what was that “liberation?”
Unlike the entrance, his exit was swift, and I could sense another, helping him withdraw from me. When he left, I so much wanted to lie down, curl into a tight ball, and cry myself to sleep. I was exhausted and settled back into myself, relieved of carrying Husband’s energy. And I felt whole again – as complete as one can be when in an “altered” state.
Jeanne then brought Greg Jarvis in, who shared a bit of what happened with Husband’s entry and channeling experience. Jarvis explained that Husband’s channeling/reentry was as traumatizing for me as a medium as it was for Husband because he was experiencing the disaster in order to release the event for the entire Columbia Crew. He was the Commander, and he chose to take this on as his responsibility.
Columbia Journal, Part 4
Saturday, February 16, 2019
Jeanne began channeling Greg Jarvis as I worked to re-center my physical self and the scattered energies of my body. It didn’t take too long before I felt collected and whole, but this respite lasted only a short time, or what seemed a short time.
(When channeling, I find no sense of time, yet when I return to my physical self, what can seem an hour is often only a few minutes, or moments can be an hour. I have no frame of reference in real-time when altered.)
Kalpana Chawla, Columbia Mission Specialist.
Kalpana’s energy and mine were one instantly. There was no trauma of the Columbia reentry or the deaths on board, let alone any sense of misstep or confusion from her passing to the other side. As our energies merged, she gave me glimpses of her passing. It was surreal and peaceful. Not at all like the previous channeling with Rick Husband. I was thankful I didn’t have to relive any part of that trauma with Kalpana.
Kalpana. She loves her full name, but to most of her familiar friends in the States, she refers to herself as "KC." “It’s just easier,” she tells me when I ask her. (Yes, I can ask questions of the entity within me, if a part of me can remain without preconceptions, etc. This was not the case with Husband’s channeling. It took all of my skills to hold his energy without interference or questions from me.)
I loved KC’s energy within me. I am sure she gave me a bit of healing from my previous channeling with Husband. Or maybe her experience and memory were overriding the death I experienced with the commander. Either way, I hoped she would stay as long as she needed to get her message through.
I do remember a bit of her message, or at least what I experienced of it.
Kalpana knew she was going to die. She had a premonition about this flight only minutes before launch. She told me she began to prepare herself. And so for her, the dying was with little trauma. She didn’t stay with her body through its death but left it and the crew behind. She went over quickly and was met by her ancestors and friends. Her culture believes in the afterlife, so she does not carry the fears of dying that are so prevalent in Western culture.
She spoke of being trained in the NASA psychic research program – a highly classified experiment partly geared toward backup communications. NASA had put her through “qualifying tests” for the program. She and a second crew member went through psychological exams to see who would be receptive – or had the receptors for psychic training – including remote viewing and telepathy.
Unbeknownst to her testers, KC immediately realized what they were up to and aced the program. She played the game to have enough failures so they would believe that she would be the right candidate, then followed in a progressive manner, with fewer mistakes as she was ‘trained’ to listen and communicate via the psi program. She was amused at how arrogant the instructors were in their pleasure with how they believed they were able to train her with measurable improvement.
I couldn’t help but laugh with her. It was as if I was sitting in a surgical theater with her as she showed me her trainers/instructors in the psi program. She noted their flaws but didn’t let on to them as she continued to improve her scores. She had many of the answers before hearing the questions. I delighted with her in the memory.
She did try to communicate with NASA after the crew's death, but only minimally. She did not want them to have the pleasure of success when they knew of the failure of the mission was on mission control’s shoulders, not on the Columbia crew. Instead, she used her abilities to communicate energetically with her family and friends in India. She showed me how she went home immediately to let them know of her death. She wanted her family to be able to mourn without the influence of Western Culture.
I remember Kalpana asking me to open my eyes. I do not usually open them during channeling sessions, as it can be distracting for me when I am holding another individual. But I obliged, and she then asked each person in the room to open their eyes. As she looked out through mine, she looked into each person’s eyes. From this, I was again privileged to see "more."
KC transported me into each person’s home, where she had visited with them during the week before this meeting. She was experiencing their energy, developing trust between herself and the individual in their environment. And with each interaction and eye-to-eye communication, I experienced a depth of love that was unique to Kalpana for that individual.
I felt her gratefulness, which she wanted to share with them for allowing her into their home and their energy.
She took me into one’s living room, another’s meditation, and yet another working in his office, and to still another’s in-home altar. It was remarkable traveling through so many timeframes and energy zones with Kalpana. Wow.
I wonder, did I experience this because of Kalpana’s remote viewing training? Or her personal story, psychic abilities, or afterlife abilities?
When it came for Kalpana to leave me, I was a bit saddened, as her presence had been uplifting and joyful. But she promised she would be back. I looked forward to that time.
After Kalpana left, I slowly felt myself enter again. Reentering one’s body, even when it’s mine, is like trying to put on shoes that you know should fit, but are a bit snug and need just a hint of stretching -- momentarily at most, but even so, there is a snugness that seems a bit confining.
As I sat there, practicing my breath, listening to my heartbeat, and feeling the headiness of otherworldly experience, I could sense Jeanne stepping aside to allow Willie McCool to enter. His energy was quite distinct with an air of attitude, not unlike someone who has been ruffled in a challenge and realized he had bitten off more than he'd bargained for. To Willie, death was not an option, and I could tell we were going to hear of this!
After Willie, Jeanne brought in Michael Anderson, who was much lighter than Willie. But then, as the Payload Commander, he did not carry the same responsibility as McCool, Columbia’s pilot.
Columbia Journal, Part 4a
January 6, 2020
Kalpana Chawla, via Automatic Writing
(At the time of this writing, almost 11 months after the challening sessions, I was experiencing intestinal and heart health issues, all due to reviewing the channeled material. I did not want to relive the trauma I experienced when delivering the original messages from the Columbia Crew to the Communications Team.)
Our Dearest Regina,
We apologize for your health. We do not mean to upset the balance of your energy. We understand that we are asking a great deal from you while you work out the journal writing, which summarized our visit with you and the members of the Communications Team.
The reason why we come today is to continue to share with you our energy and our personalities so that you may be able to complete the task at hand.
What is this task?
We, Columbia Space Shuttle STS-107 crew) and the many who have died before us, wish to share that there is a higher purpose after we die. There is much more to our story and who we have become after our death.
We are nearby the earth world still, so that individuals might experience the "More" waiting for them.
The crew nominated me as the spokesperson since we have experienced a unique bond. I, being Kalpana.
I do adore the way you use my entire name. It seems like so many times I would hear my Americanized name I would answer, but it just didn’t connect with me as my given name and its pronunciation.
Now, on to the "More."
Those on your team, the Communications Team, were hand-selected to bring information to the public.
Yes, they have also been busy with the many projects from their spirit guides on this side of the veil, but the team has committed to bringing forth our experience from our death and those lessons which we continue to learn.
Yes, there are many lessons.
One of the first is: How do we Love? Do we Love? Do we experience Love?
Oh, I can hear you right now. Of course, you Love! You are living and existing in the field of Love.
Ah yes, this is true, but for several of our crewmates this was not the concept they held when they passed over to the other side. You see, you experienced the trauma of Rick’s death, you also were able to experience his many lifetimes here on earth and several which were not earthbound.
Well, we needed Rick to be able to experience them in and with a frame of reference within time and space. He entered your energy field while you both reviewed his many earthbound lives, as well as a few events that had nothing to do with being physical. Rick had been resisting this review ever since his death. Yes, I realize that this means 17 years in your time reality, but for Rick, his death and these experiences happened and are happening precisely at the moment you and he experienced those memories.
His resistance to look at any place or lifetime where he felt accountable or beholden to another were the timeframes he refused to review. Shame, guilt, blame, and anger and grief, kept Rick from seeing the brilliance of a time review.
The higher beings brought him to you, and the Communication Team to hold the energy of this transmission so Rick would review his way.
Since we are a collective team (group soul) all working for our group's soul purpose, none of us can move forward if one member is holding back the momentum of possibilities and growth. It was a team effort to keep Rick in your energy long enough to experience these life-reviews. You were not only holding Rick’s energy, but you were also carrying our energy. This action was a massive effort for our part, but even more significant for you. Your body suffered dearly for this event.
Through your permission and your guides’ permission, we have brought forth another healing team who have been correcting your damaged parts. You understand the damage as tears in your fabric of life. The healing unit assigned to you has repaired those tears, mended them, and have made you stronger for their healing energy.
Jeanne was correct. Rick was experiencing the trauma of the entire Columbia crew. He knew that this was the only way to move forward in the afterlife. However, his fear was what was holding him back from his review. Because of this, his trauma or PTS became your PTS in the channeling.
The review was a success. Because of your commitment to work with us on that morning in Jerry Gin’s home, you have allowed all 7 of us to step up to our next level.
We have come to you as a collective, our group soul today, to say, “Thank you.” Thank you for the healing you have done for us.
We will share more at another time.
We love you and forever (time) endlessly,
Kalpana and the mission crew of the Columbia Space Shuttle: STS 107
Columbia Journal, Part 5
Saturday, February 16, 2019
Laurel Clark, Columbia Mission Specialist
Laurel Clark popped in without any fanfare. She appeared in me as a medical specialist. She put on her lab coat. We walked through a scene that included her student exam for military specialists and service members. They sat in chairs in a classroom taking tests. And while they were marking their papers, reading, or writing, we watched together as the oxygen in the room decreased slowly.
Laurel tells me how the observers watch as each individual responded to diminishing oxygen. Responses varied: from feeling sleepy, others dizzy, and some were not even realizing they weren't performing functionally.
I felt privileged for her recall of the situation, for, with it, she was able to explain how anoxia in the Columbia was affecting the individual crew. Laurel said that although they tried to put on all their gear according to training, it was near impossible to do so with ease or skill. They fumbled to lock their equipment, including helmets and safety harness, into position. All seven crew members fell unconscious before the actual breakup of the craft took place.
Laurel explained to me that she and the others wanted their survivors to know that their preparedness actions or lack thereof did not cause pain in their death.
Being unconscious at the time the body expired was peaceful. And for those who were able to leave their bodies quickly before expiring, there was a definite calmness.
Laurel's scientific background may have assisted her in being able to depart quicker than some, or maybe it was because she could already sense that her mate Kalpana had already left her body, and so this made it OK. She tells me she is still working on understanding her process -- the entire business of death, dying, the body expiring after the soul or consciousness departs. This was news to her. And yet she accepted the process of leaving her body before it had expired. "There is much to learn," Laurel tells me. "I am still working out understanding the egress I used as I was dying."
With Laurel inside my consciousness, I could feel the systematic thought process of her death. She mentioned how this was in stark contrast to the Challenger Disaster, where the crew experienced the dying process, or anticipation of, it as their shuttle's crew compartment fell to earth. She shared with me that she knows this because they told her their story. They were there to meet her and the rest of the Columbia Crew when their death occurred.
Laurel wanted to convey to her husband John, a medical specialist for NASA, and who was involved with the Columbia Disaster Report, that she understood the difficulty of this project. She was grateful that he stayed with the Investigative Panel tasked with writing up the findings. Laurel knew how difficult it was for John to convince the Panel that they had to include all of the mistakes and the arrogance of human error and judgment. She was grateful he stood his ground and published the truth.
Laurel knew that NASA was aware of the tiles that had broken free of the shuttle damaging the fuel containers, yet they had no plan and chose not to let the crew know of this issue. She was aware that NASA had known very quickly after the launch, that this crew would not return.
NASA denied the information to the crew. They would complete their missions and projects during the next 16 days without knowing there would be no return home.
Laurel was trying to let John know that she was alive and well on the other side of death. It was a direct message to her husband that she survived death and was "OK."
[11:50 am. Laurel leaves]
Columbia Journal, Part 6
Saturday, February 16, 2019
David Brown, Columbia Mission Specialist
Now David was an easy entity to bring into my energy. I was delighted with his jovial manner and pleasant personality. David was patient with me, and I recognized his energy instantly as I had been feeling him about my home for several weeks now. However, I had no idea that I would be the one to channel him.
David was excited to show me that he, too, has a unique story to share with the group. David loved being behind a camera. It was his hobby -- he had never really planned or envisioned making any money with his skill as an amateur cameraman. David loved to shoot (photograph) a story; I could see it too. How he rode the shuttle into disintegration to make sure he “caught everything.” Yes, he was dead already, but he stayed with the shuttle because he didn’t want to miss the ride of a lifetime! And he was going to get the entire story! No matter what!
I was entirely having David’s out-of-body experience (OBE) since he was dead, but his consciousness survived to tell the story. (This is how it can be; each has their own unique story. And this was David Brown’s.)
David introduced me to a documentary he had been creating. He also showed me another individual, a friend, from his memory. David told me how they hoped to teach others what it was like to prepare for space travel and adventure. He would shoot digital images and video of the Columbia flight, and it’s onboard projects.
I could see the images as he splayed them out before me. They were good shots too. Then he showed me some photos taken of unidentified “anomalies.”
David had hoped that his digital files or drives had survived re-entry like Ilan Ramon’s diary.
"How had that not burned up with re-entry?" I wondered.
David also showed me that his camera's memory card [likely a PCMCIA card, about a third the size of a deck of cards] was picked up and placed in one of the recovery personnel's pockets. Where it went from there was only speculation, but he seemed pretty convinced it was in NASA’s possession. “There was some good work on that,” he said to me.
I liked his energy. I could tell he was used to being the center of attention. He had the charisma of holding an audience with his stories. David’s personality was infectious, one that I enjoyed while he was in my energy field.
I knew we would be friends, in one of those strange ways that occur when bonding with another of compatible likes.
David then shared a little tale of how lives parallel. He would address this in a bit more detail at a later time. I was feeling a bit disappointed that it was time for his exit, but then I was physically exhausted from the morning channeling.
There had been five distinct personalities in my body within a short period of our time. Yet, again, while channeling, I sensed no time and a huge time lapse simultaneously. All so very interesting.
Columbia Journal, Part 7
Saturday, February 16, 2019
I was exhausted.
I took my blood pressure after the morning channeling: 180 over 120! No wonder I was feeling like I had been swimming 5 miles. I tried to collect myself. Even after a quiet meditation my heart continued to race and my BP still had not settled down.
I asked my guide, Estelle, to advise me. How should I approach the afternoon session? I was not comfortable, with my current blood pressure, to keep channeling in the afternoon.
She told me, “Don’t. Just listen to the message and relay the information.”
Great. By 1:45 we were seated again and ready for the afternoon to begin. The morning had been challenging and surprising. "Who would show up next?," I wondered.
Jeanne started this session channeling Challenger astronaut Ellison Onizuka.
I sat silently, allowing my breath to guide me into another place. Listening to Jeanne’s voice, I began to drift away.
Virgil "Gus" Grissom
(Grissom, along with Ed White and Roger Chaffee, died
in the Apollo 1 launchpad fire, January 27, 1967)
Within moments someone "familiar" sits down in the empty chair next to me. It is Virgil “Gus” Grissom. He leans over toward me. “Thank you,” he says, for letting him into my home during the past few months. (He would "appear" in my living room. I "sensed" him there with my husband Jerry, sitting in my recliner. Gus would just sit and watch whatever was on the television.) I wondered if he might show up this weekend, although I wasn’t sure why.
Gus started his message. His voice came through loud and clear to me.
I relayed his words as fast as I could.
What I couldn’t share with the group was the internal voice and message he was sharing with me only. I don’t believe he realized what I could feel about him that I could experience his inner voice. (That voice we usually keep filtered out from the public.) Yes, I can hear and experience feelings and chatter occurring just under the surface of words and actions.
Gus was angry, disappointed, frustrated. He seemed trapped, unable to share with family and friends all he experienced from his death to the present.
Gus acknowledges to me that he knows there is no "real time" where he resides now, but he remained close to the earth’s vibration and his family’s frequency during most of their trials as they fought their battle with NASA.
Gus was angry. Very angry.
NASA, to him, was now a dirty word. It had become an organization not to be trusted. Oh, there were many good men and women whom he admired, capable individuals that had the skills and capacity to make a change for man and space exploration. But those are not the individuals who governed the organization of NASA.
I was taken aback by the frustration and anger from Gus's personality. I took him to be a more gentle soul, and he seemed quite content whenever he had appeared in my living room the months earlier. I had never really sat and chatted with him. I thought that maybe he was just really trying to get used to me and my frequency, my personality. I understand at this moment of channeling; he wanted to make sure he could trust me. I am not surprised now that I am feeling this other side of him.
Why are you so angry? I asked Gus as he leaned into my energy to share his message. And then he began.
Gus wanted the group present today to understand just how he and his crew felt after they died in that Apollo 1 fire.
It was at that moment in time, their death. When all of the crew realized they were pawns in the government’s chess game. The individuals strapped into this craft were not crucial to the big, governing NASA organization. It was about the space race.
Gus knew he wanted to be a part of the United States success story. He flew Gemini 3 circling the earth three times and loved it. Yes, he was proud to have been selected to fly Apollo 1 with Chafee and White. This flight was an honor.
He believed in this project, and he trusted the men behind the mission. He trusted NASA. Yes, there are risks, there are always risks, but in aviation, the safety of the crew is still first.
So why wouldn’t he trust NASA?
He encouraged Ed and Roger to be a part of the team. He liked them. “They are good men,” Gus said to me. “Why would I put their lives at risk? Why would any of us put our lives at risk if we did not trust that we were going to return home safely?”
“I have a family. Of course, I was taking a risk. When we climb into a plane, all necessary precautions are taken into consideration and double-checked for safety. That’s what every pilot does before every flight. Safety flight check!”
Oh, his anger was full-blown. I was trying to relay his message without the energy of his frustration and disappointment. But Gus wanted his thoughts to be precise, clear, and to the point: that NASA disregarded these men as military pilots; instead, they were just disposable space monkeys.
He felt as if they were merely lab specimens for flight science to be studied.
When the capsule burned up on the launchpad, it became another part of the study.
He understood the cause of the fire had to be investigated but to leave their charred bodies in the capsules to become part of the investigation? How could they?
When Gus began telling me this part, I experienced the inside of the charred capsule. I could smell the acrid odor of burned flesh and chemicals. I could see the blackened remains of his crew. Their charred bodies still strapped into their seats and their spacesuits melted against the corpses.
What Gus relived, I, too was experiencing.
But there was more to this story that didn't receive much press. Gus wanted to honor all those who had to endure the aftermath of this horrific NASA mess.
Gus wanted acknowledgment for those men who stood ‘post’ with the remains the Apollo Crew: Gus, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee. He said the smell of charred flesh seared into the memories of each person who oversaw the remains and debris.
Getting this information out softened Gus’ anger. As he shared his experience, I could feel him decompress. He just wanted those who stood by their remains not to be forgotten. He wanted them honored for their bravery. “It takes great courage and strength to stand watch over the dead.” He said.
However, there was more. Gus wanted us to help clear the trauma and memories of those living with this nightmare. The trauma haunts even those others who have since died. And unfortunately, the actions of the military space program in response to this nightmare had a ripple effect on the friends and family members of those who had to be involved in the recovery and evaluation. “We were just carcasses.” He said. Nothing more than something to study for the advancement of the National Space and flight program. The three deaths were unnecessary. Yet Gus had come to terms with his death, as did Ed and Roger. He came on behalf of those who were survivors of this mess.
Gus’s message was for us not to forget those who had to guard the remains and would like us to do a trauma release meditation for them. He stood and saluted us in the group. His presence and his message honored me.
As Gus settled back in his chair, he shared his parting thoughts and sights with me. I could see his wife and two sons in his memory. More than anything, he wanted them to know how much he loved them and honored their ability to stay true to their beliefs. “I truly thought I would return.” He said to me. Betty, she is with me now,” he says, smiling. “My sons, they are better men than I could have asked. I am proud of them.”
Gus exited as Jeanne began to bring in Laurel Clark.
Columbia Journal, Part 8
Saturday, February 16, 2019
Judy Resnik, Challenger Mission Specialist
I had never worked with so many entities in one day. Today's interactions gave me a sense of extreme jet-lag. I hoped it was temporary.
I slowly settled into my space—took a quiet inner breath. Instantly, I could tell that a familiar friend was sitting down next to me. Judy Resnik.
She asked me to share my encounter with the two helicopter pilots I met four days earlier. It seemed as if months had passed since that encounter.
I retold the event -- how I met pilots Jules Francis "Buzz" Mier and Charlie Krenek.
Judy wanted the group to realize the efforts and effects of recovering the Columbia accident debris field. (Mier and Krenek were present for this session, yet they both remained silent. Standing quietly behind Judy as they listened to their story.)
The entire message was short, but it was apparent that those involved in the recovery event, as well as this particular helicopter accident, needed trauma release.
I could feel Judy take my hand in hers. I am comforted by her. We sat in silence.
Jeanne began a trauma release meditation for everyone involved in the accident's debris retrieval.
[3:14 p.m. meditation ended]
The two helicopter pilots, Judy Resnik and others left the room. My guide Estelle tells me I have worked enough for today. I could quiet my mind now.
There was more channeling from Jeanne, and then there was Q&A discussion.
Columbia Journal, Part 9
Sunday, February 17, 2019
It’s Sunday, day 2 of our channeling sessions. What was today going to bring?
Even though yesterday’s session went well, I didn’t want another day of stress and anxiousness on my heart. I slept restlessly as the memories of each crew played like a slide show in my thoughts. I had to keep separating myself from them.
I was frustrated. My physical response and the intensity of yesterday’s channeling were highly unusual.
I needed guidance.
“If I continue with this weekend’s session, how do I manage my 'energetic' expense?” I asked my guide, Estelle. “How should I proceed plus best support the purpose of the Columbia Crew?”
Estelle was pretty clear in her reply: “It is your lack of trust in your abilities, which causes your greatest stress, not the "expanse," she said. “Doubt causes blocks. Trust yourself and trust your guides.”
I know this truth; I told myself to move forward. Don’t look back. Trust and love.
By the time I took my place for the morning, I felt completely at ease. It seems so simple, yet it has taken years for me to come to this point in my personal story and development as a medium.
Sitting in the chair today felt natural. The video camera, the audio all seemed right. I was smiling inside, playing outside. I truly felt happy.
I suddenly stood up and went into my room to grab a bright orange silk scarf -- one that Jeanne had given me a few days earlier. I wanted to dance with these colors swirling around me. I wrapped it around my head, tied it in place. It felt natural. Lalit saw me and said I looked like I was home in India when they cover their heads with colorful materials. I felt joyful and filled with an energy of immense light and happiness.
This scarf, this energy, was encapsulating and swaddling me with glee. I began to wonder if this was my joy as I released all doubt? Or could I be engaged with another’s energy, sending me infinite love? Either way, I didn’t want it to stop!
The group gathered in the room, ready for Jeanne and me to take our place once again.
Who was going to step forward today?
I felt Estelle step directly in front of me. Staring into me, she said, “Trust yourself.”
“Thank you,” I answered in silence.
I realized I had no anxiety, no stress. My breathing was calm, and my heart rate restful; I was content.
I sat in “noisy silence” as Jeanne gave messages from different spirits to the assembled group.
“Noisy” because on the other side of the room, dead folks were jostling and chatting as they were assigned a last-minute lineup.
*Who’s at bat, and who’s on deck?* I wondered.
“Trust your guides. Love.” My new mantra.
David Brown joined me. His energy slipped in without incident. But this time, I sensed his awareness of my female shape. David wanted to make sure everyone in the room knew he was a guy!
He wanted to pull my left leg over my right, to cross his body. And sit as such.
Interestingly, he did the same to me yesterday. I remembered this as I was worried about my hip. (I’ve had two hip replacements on that side and have been strongly advised not to cross my legs. )
Trust. Trust. Trust. I remind myself.
I liked David's energy. He was holding a 35mm camera, and he said he chose to come through me because we shared artistic similarities; I love taking pictures and telling stories with images. We also shared the same last name: Brown, my maiden name.
Then we got down to business. David wanted to address the "astral field" that is often mentioned when we talk of spirits. It's not a place where I'd want to stop when I'm ready to leave this world.
As he shared with the group aloud, he shared with me the images. Rather graphic, too. I’m sure it was to make a point about the trapped condition of souls and entities who chose not to move into their higher, more divine self. Interestingly, the astral field image appeared to be like a moat. The bridge to "the other side" went over this moat. I recognized the image as identical to one that my "spirit" teacher showed me when I was a child. It was one of my last lessons from Spirit before I would not hear from it again for 13 years!
This "astral moat" was filled with the mental and emotional tar, sludge and debris of human souls mired in anger and greed. David shares with the group that this debris was like that of the Seven Deadly Sins.
The bridge over this astral field/moat is the one that our "rescuers" assist the dead in crossing. As individuals, we can get stuck on the earth side of the astral trench, or slip into it, or cross over it. How we proceed is ultimately up to us and our free will.
As David spoke, I recalled all my childhood lessons from Spirit.
But his channeling wasn’t all somber. He shared his excitement, too. David spoke of many lifetimes, and how these are, from the perspective of the afterlife, all played out simultaneously.
We are, he said, continually crossing over from one parallel event/life to another by our choices and their variable outcomes.
He expressed his joy in making good choices in his life, many of which determined his future as part of the Columbia Crew. David's zeal for life inspired him to seek higher goals. Images flooded my brain from his recent past, and beyond. I even saw his time spent as a clown! What a hoot.
His ride with the shuttle as it disintegrated entering the earth’s atmosphere was a thrill ride altogether. The absolute rush he talked about shot adrenaline through me. David chose to stay with, but "outside" his body, just for the experience.
The ride was for the learning experience. I fully shared in the excitement David had documenting and relating this information for others. He believes the story, more than anything else, is to teach others what living is, both inside and outside our earthly reality.
[1:47 a.m. David departs]
David and Kalpana share a deep spiritual bond with humankind. But their ability to let go of their ties to earth was natural for them. David left to document, Kalpana left to enter the space of her true spiritual belief. Both are validating not only their earthly wishes but their faith and journey.
I sensed Kalpana. She was on deck.
Columbia Journal, Part 10
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Kalpana gifted me with her “going over” experience. She pulled me right out of my body and into her energy. Instantly, we traded places!
Oh my word, I was blasted with clouds of colored paint and chalk. Millions of balloon-like bubbles tossed at me exploding with such intensity of color and sound. I moved in and out of the clouds of paint that dusted me with talc-like softness. The scents of India swarmed about me like bees to their hive. Curry of assorted colors and degrees of spice wafted in and out of my path. Cinnamon, cardamom, peppers, turmeric, chilies, toasted nuts and seeds, are floating in invisible clouds.
Dust and a cacophony of noise. My feet were bare, but I could see the markings of henna elaborately drawn on each foot as a sandal had been tattooed over my now-olive skin.
Suddenly I was walking down lanes of crowded markets and stalls with vendors tossing yards of fabric at my feet. Their bolts of metallic threads woven into silk radiated in the sunshine. All this spread before me like a welcome-home carpet. I looked down and could sense the embroidered and jeweled silk sari I wore. It floated with each step I took. I knew this was, or I was, Kalpana, and she was allowing me this intense memory of hers. I owned it as if the air was my own.
Joy was in the air, and the celebration filled every nook of the street. I was having a sensory thrill-ride, one which I had never experienced before in all my earthly travels.
Kalpana explained she wanted me to experience what her ancestors gave to her when she left her body to move across into this realm of love and light. Death. Life. Family. How her faith and religion prepared her for death.
Her parents and faith taught that there was nothing to fear when she departed for the afterlife. She believed ancestors and friends would celebrate her coming *home* to India, the India of the afterworld.
I could hear Kalpana speaking to the group on the earthly plane, yet I was so far away from there. I wanted to remember this place, this space I was holding right now—Kalpana’s "home."
I was ready to join all of her family and ancestors. All my physical and emotional senses were receiving gifts beyond anything I‘ve ever felt. I understood why Kalpana found it so easy to slip away from the fiery destruction of the Columbia.
She told the group that she was giving me this experience to neutralize the one I had with Rick Husband and his trauma release yesterday morning. This channeling had to be super delightful since Husband’s channeling taxed both my physical and energetic body. This channeling was to repair and heal all of me.
What a gift.
It was hard for me to leave her "home" to return to the present. Kalpana left me to this beautiful memory. I never want to lose it.
[2:10 p.m. END KC]
Although there was a bit more to the day, the messages were for others and not for me to recall. There was more channeling from Jeanne, and then there was a Q&A discussion.
I am happy to hold the memory of Kalpana and her Nirvana, her "home," as long as possible.
[3:51 p.m. End of Sunday session]
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