Guardian Spirit

From: James L. Choron (kommissar@mtu-net.ru)
Story type: Angel
Location: Varried Locations
Source: Form Submission

To Whom it May Concern:
I recently ran across your web page while doing research on a completely unrelated field. I am a writer by profession a screenwriter. I own my own company, which specializes in Film Logistics. I am 47 years old, and currently reside in Moscow, Russia, with my wife (Russian) and our children. I have lived here for just under ten years. I am a college graduate, with two Bachelor of Arts Degrees, am MA, and a Phd. Prior starting my own business, I was an executive with a major International Comapny specializing in Imaging Technology. I am a dual citizen (U.S./Russian) and am active in both community affairs and my religion. I am a Mason, retired from the U.S. military, and currently serving in a reserve capacity with our local police as a translator and interpreter. I say this in order to establish that I am a credible witiness, not prone to flights of fancy.

That being said, I have always been sensitive to the paranormal. While not psycic, as such, I do believe strongly in the paranormal, and have had several experiences which tend to reinforce this belief. While living in the U.S., I have usually did not speak of these events, as they are generally looked on as being fantastic and I did not wish to hurt my professional reputation, or damage my credibility. It is different, here, where most people are far more open to such things than they are in the States, and the open investigation of the paranormal is not only accepted but encouraged. The accounts that I am giving, below, constitute the first time that I have ever written down these things, and the first time (if you use them) that they will appear in print.

After reading your pages on the net, I realize that I am not the only one who has had such experiences, and wish to share my own with others. I appologize for the length of this material, but I hope that you will run it unedited, as it is necessary to tell the entire story in order to understand it.

The following stories are true. Since I am a writer by profession, many people might doubt their veracity, this is why I am chosing to release them in an unpaid, unsolicited format, rather than attempt to capitalize on them. I want them to be believed, and examined, and hopefully explained. I feel that this will be more easily accomplished if the idea that I am writing for mercenary reasons is completely laid to rest from the begining.

The first story that I am going to relate, the one that I call My Dark Angel, has happened not only to me, but to my son (age 19), and has indirectly effected my wife and our other three children. It has been going on, periodically since the early 1980s, and effects only myself and my immediate family. The second is far older, but I have personally been aware of it only for the past ten years. Aside from the current residents of our building, including myself and my family, the events that I record in The Old Soviet Man have been witinessed by dozens of people, over a period spanning half a century.

I was overjoyed to find your site, and to find that there are many other normal, every-day people, (as I long suspected) who have had similar experiences.

I hope that the material I am sending is useful to you. In any case, keep up the excellent work with these pages. James L. Choron Moscow, Russia

My Dark Angel by James L. Choron Kommissar@mtu-net.ru

In the spring of 1984, I received my first visit from an entity which I now call my Dark Angel. He has since visited me on four other ocassions, He has also, on at least two occasions, appeared to my son, Erik, now age 19. These apperances have spanned three continents and literally circled the globe. In the winter of 1984, I was living, with my wife (at the time) and our small son in a house on Tenaha Highway (St. Hwy 87) in Center, Texas. I remember the time exactly, because my wife was at that time pregnant with our second child. We were asleep in our bedroom, when, about 2:00am. I suddenly awoke. I do not recall hearing any noise, but I had the strong feeling that someone was in the house. I listened carefully, and hearing nothing, decided not to get up. I could see across the hallway into our sons room, and he was sleeping soundly. It was late December, just before New Year. I dont recall the exact date, but it was just before new year. My son was born on Christmas Day, and he had just turned three years old.

In any case, I rolled over and went back to sleep, only to wake again, very suddenly, about an hour later. This time, I was sure that someone was in the house. I reached into the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed and took out the Walther 9mm pistol that I kept there. We had had a problem lately with house breaking in Center, and I was taking no chances. I got up and went through the house, looking carefully from room to room. Nothing unusual was there, and no one was in the house. I put my gun away, and went back to bed. I couldnt go back to sleep. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. As I did this, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked at the doorway leading into the bedroom, and saw my angel (although I did not call him this at that time) standing there. He was leaning casually against the door jam, looking directly at me, and smiling.

I will never be able to explain it, but for some reason I was not upset, frightened or alarmed in any way. My normal reaction would have been to make a grab for the nightstand (and my gun) and try, at least, to put a couple of bullet holes through him. Like I said, we had been having quite a problem with burglaries and house breaking at the time.

I did not move. My wife, solidly asleep next to me did not stir. Our son slept soundly. As I watched my visitor, he nodded to me, smiled again, and walked away, down the hallway, toward our front door. I got up and followed. This time, I had my gun. When I got into the livingroom, it was empty. The door was still locked and bolted, and the rest of the house proved to be empty. I told my wife about it the next morning, and she wrote it off to a dream. It was not a deam. I was wide awake and I will add at this time that I do not drink, or use any substances.

This was the first time I had seen my angel but not the last. Still, I will take time now to describe him, since he has been completely unchanging over the years, both in dress and apperance. He is a young man, appearing to be in his early 30s about my age the first time I saw him about 57 and what I would call a medium build. He has sharp, aqualine features and a large nose. He has wavy black hair, that seems to be usually cut short, but gives the impression that he is slightly overdue for a haircut. He has a very neatly trimmed van Dyke beard and moustashe and wears small, round Pinc Nez glasses which are attached to breast pocked of his jacket by what apears to be a thin, black ribbon.

He is dressed primarily in black, wearing a black, double-breasted leather jacket. This jacket is what I would call a military cut, since it is belted and has epulets at the shoulders. He is wearing a white shirt (almost blindingly so, by contrast to the rest of his clothing) and an old-fashioned bunch cravat. His pants are black, and he wears them tucked into the tops of knee-high boots that have a very nice shine on them. He wears gloves, or rather, one glove on his left hand. He carries the other glove rather than wearing it. The gloves are also what appear to be black leather. They are a thin, dress glove, not warn for warmth. He smokes! The smell of his cigarettes lingers in a room after he leaves. I also smoke, but the tobacco he uses is very strong, and has a distinctive aroma.

He is not transparent or semi-visible. He manifests himself as a solid, very life-like entity. As I said, his solid appearance almost got him shot the first time I saw him, not that I think, now, that it would have hurt him. While he was there, and after he left, I had the strong feeling that he was just looking in on me, was there to see that everything was all right, and was there to assure me that everything would continue to be all right. It was a very peaceful, calm feeling.

I did not see him again for several months, then, in March of 1985, shortly after the birth of my daughter, Megan, he came to see me again. This time, we were living about a hundred miles away, in a town called Naples, Texas. On this occassion, the appearance lasted on ly a minute or two. It was daytime, and I was sitting in my office reading. He came into the room, smiled at me, then left the same way he had come.

This time, when he left, I had the feeling that I should cancel a meeting that I had that afternoon, and go home early, instead. I did this, and when I got home, I found that not five minutes before I got home, my son had fallen while playing and my wife was getting ready to take him to the doctor. In December of 1990, I took the job that brought me to Russia. I will not mention the name of the company except to say that it is the oldest and largest company dealing with imaging technology in the world. About a week after arriving in Moscow, I moved into my flat, and the same night I moved in, I received a visit. There he was, just like alwys, standing calmly in the living room, smiling at me. He only stayed a few seconds, he was gone almost as soon as I saw him. This time, I had a single, overpowering message running through my head Welcome home. I had no way of knowing, then, that the temporary assignment that I had undertaken would soon turn into Gilligans three hour tour, and that I would permanently make my home in Russia, marry here, start my own business and a new family here. It was several years before I realized exactly what this message meant.

I met my current wife in 1991. On one occassion, just after we met, we were at a local restaurant having dinner. While we were eating, I looked up and saw my Dark Angel standing beside my soon-to-be wife. He was smiling broadly and nodding his head. I looked at Vetta to see if she could see him, and when I looked back up, he was gone. I guess it was his stamp of approval or his way of telling me that this is the one, because we have been quite happy for almost ten years now. Vetta is a believer. She never laughed or doubted my stories of my Dark Angel, and has encouraged me to talk to her about his apperances. She trusts his warnings and messages, as I do, now. It was several months before I saw him again. The next time he appeared to me was in early 1993. I was living in Moscow, and this appearance was also a very brief one. I was driving home from work, and noticed him, momentarily, beside me in the car. I was surprised to see him, but not overly so. I was getting used to his visits. After about a minute, he disappeared.

The message this time was take the long way. I had been considering taking a side-road home which would have taken several miles, and about fifteen minutes off of my commute. I didnt. When I saw the evening news that night, I was amazed (not really) to find that a tanker truck had overturned on that road, killing the driver and the occupants of a car just behind him, stopping traffic and creating a dangerous chemical spill at exactly the time I would have been caught right in the middle of it if I had taken the shortcut. In October of 1996, he visited again. This would prove to be his longest visit with me, to date. I was in the states, living in Conroe, Texas. I was living with my wife and our kids in a second floor apartment. I was soundly asleep, when the smoke detector in our living room went off. It woke my wife and myself. I got up and went into the living room, turned off the alarm, and went on a quick tour of the flat. Finding no fire and no sign of smoke, I chalked it up to a bad battery and went back to bed. About fifteen minutes later, it went off again with the same result. no fire, no smoke. I went back to bed again.

This time, I couldnt go back to sleep. I was lying there trying to go back to sleep when it went off for the third time. This time was different. Before I could get out of bed to turn it off, it stopped by itself. At the foot of our bed, our little poodle, Koki started to growl, and then to whimper. My wife was still asleep. I looked toward the foot of the bed, toward our dog, and there he was, leaning calmly against the wall, smoking a cigarette and looking at me. He grinned when he saw that I noticed, and nodded. At this time, our little dog got very quiet and still, and then started wagging his tail. After about five minutes in which we simply stared at each other, he departed. This time, I actually saw him go. He had been standing, backlighted by our bedroom window. It was very light in th e room, the drapes and shades were open, there was a full moon, and the streetlight outside in the parking light was on, at the time. In short, while there were no lights on inside the apartment, it was almost light enough t o read, and absolutely light enough to make out every detail of my visitor.

I will point out at this point that at no time has he spoken to me. On several occasions I have tried to speak with him, but have always gotten the strong mental impression that it is somehow against the rules. After each encounter with him, I have had the lasting impression that he is there to look after me out of some sort of duty or obligation and that he has been watching me, and members of my immediate family for a long time.

He smiled at me again, touched the visor of his cap, which was pushed far back on his forehead, exposing a shock of unruly hair that hung over his forehead, turned, and walked away through the window. I could see him walking, and as he did, he appeared to grow smaller with distance. As I stated earlier, I lived on the second floor, yet he walked away as though he were on level ground, and not fifteen feet, or so, above it.

Unlike most of his previous visits, and one that would follow, this visit did not produce any warning or other message only a feeling of peace and a feeling that I was being watched over.

After he left, my wife stirred, and sat up suddenly. She looked upset, and asked me shakily what had happened. It was then that I discovered that she had not been asleep at all. She told me that she had been wide awake simply unable to either move or open her eyes.

We talked about this around the breakfast table an hour or so later. My son, who was then 15, overheard us, and stated, rather matter-of-factly, that he had seen our visitor before, too, on several occassions. His earliest recollection of him was from the time he had been about six years old, and he remembered a man in black, with shiny, boots. I asked my son why he had never told me about it before, and he said, he told me not to. He said that nobody would believe me. I asked Erik if our visitor had ever talked to him out loud, and he told me no, that it was always something that he could feel or hear in his head.

In 1998, I was on a work assignment in Negambo, Sri Lanka, and my angel came for a brief visit as I was walking down the beach, near my house. This visit lasted only a minute or two. We literally met on the beach, walking in opposite directions, passed each other silently, and went our separate ways. H e simply nodded and smiled to me as we passed. This time, the message was dont. I had been planning to take a quick swim, but after meeting with my dark angel decided against it. I later found that the waters near our beach had been more-or-less invaded by jellyfish that evening (something that happens all the time, there, at completely unpredictable times) and that several swimmers had been stung.

I have no idea why this entity comes to me, and some members of my family. I thought at first that it might be the spirit of some deceased family member, but have found no evidence of this. I have discretely questioned my mother and father (now deceased) as to whether we have or had any one in the family who resembled my angel, and their answer was not to our knowledge. He seems to be out of an earlier time than our own. His clothing indicates the begining of this century or the end of the last one, and he seems to have once been a military man of some kind, judging from the style of his clothing, although there is no sign of a badge or other emblem on his clothing.

When I described him to my current wife, she told me that the clothing I was describing reminded her of pictures that she had seen in her history books, at school, then dug through the books that we had at home until she found something that was similar, so I have more or less dated him at the early decades of this century say 1900-1920 or so. I actually derived my email address from him. My wife says that his clothes remind her of the uniform of the early Kommissars the notorious Political Officers of the Soviet Cheka, predecessor to the NKVD, and later KGB. I have since found many photographs that tend to support this, but at the time he first appeard to me... now almost twenty years ago I had no knowledge of this, had never set foot in Russia, and never planned to do so. Now, whenever I find an old book or a bunch of old pictures, I look through them carefully to see if I can find a familiar face. So far, I havent, but maybe in time who knows? My question is this What connection does this being have with me and my family? Why is he looking after us? I do not know. I just know that he is with us, and from what I have seen , will be for some time.