42 short stories taken from my palm reading sessions.
1956 to 2003, this book records sessions of people from all walks of life. Entertaining reading, enlightening and educational.
There are stories of famous people, murderers, a kidnappers, embezzlers, a bigamist, a man abducted by a UFO, an out of body experience, a mayor who was arrested, an accident victim, a Halloween party with a famous football team, a haunted house, Elvis look-alike and a cancer victim.
YOU CAN’T BUY JUSTICE
While serving as a Juror in a civil case in Santa Barbara California I had a most unforgettable experience.
A young man had a distressing accident in Lompoc California during his Senior Prom, an all night celebration with no adult supervision. It was held at the Lompoc City Beach Park. Several hundred teens were scattered over
a quarter mile area, all drinking and necking. Plans to meet at sunrise for breakfast on the beach at a designated spot circulated among the students.Everyone staked out their own sand dune for privacy, all overlooking the silvery nighttime ocean.
About 2:00 AM the teenager in litigation had to use the restroom. A freight train stood motionless on the track next to the shack that housed it.The train had parked alongside the crew shack for their regular ten minute pit stop. The student left his date and sprinted up the hill to the top of the grade where the train was idle at the siding. It had been stationary for over ten minutes when the boy approached it. Unfamiliar with the train schedule, he assumed he had time enough to go between the freight cars before it started to roll. Just as he was positioned on the connector between two cars it started. First it rolled backwards, slowly grinding the wheels, then forward. The crew back on board, was unaware anything unusual had transpired. His piercing screams could be heard all over the beach. The seniors ran to the tracks. It was then the engineer noticed a lot of running teenagers converging on the top of the landing. He knew instantly something was amiss and immediately applied the brakes. The student got caught in-between the cars and was trapped on the connector equipment by his right heel. The police and paramedics were called. The teen’s right heel was severed; half of it lay under the freight car wheel on the tracks. In shock and unable to converse with anyone, the lad was motionless.
His case was against the railroad. The young man’s parents spent in excess of twenty thousand dollars on surgeries and therapy. He was unable to walk unassisted and had been unable to wear a shoe for two years. His lawyers posted huge photographs of train equipment, the track siding, the shack and the sand dunes in Court. Railroad attorneys argued he was out of bounds and should not have trespassed onto the railroad property for any reason. The teenager was in the right-of-way when he stepped onto the train connector. Railroad employees were questioned on the stand as were twenty-one of the student’s friends who
were present that night. The trial was long, interesting. The Judge called for a fifteen minute recess; everyone filed out of the courtroom to an outside patio.
While I was standing on the patio with the other jurors the sister of the individual on trial approached me. She asked me to accompany her to the restroom located at the far end of the Courthouse. Usually my sixth sense kicks in and I know instinctively if I should follow someone or not. I was curious. We walked in silence to the farthest restroom in the building. There were no other jury members present.
She began, “I now this is unethical, but would you read my palm? I want to learn the outcome of my brother’s trial.”
She wanted me to tell her if it would end up in his favor; his case involved 1.2 million dollars. Glancing sideways to make sure no one was in the restroom, she pulled a wad of hundred dollar bills from her jacket pocket.
She thrust the money at me speaking softly. “This is all I have. If you predict what’s going to happen in this case I’ll give it all to you.”
Dumbfounded, I explained, “I do not predict such things as outcomes of court cases. I am unable to see your brother’s case on your palm because you don’t carry that information. His palm is the only one that would show that.”
She retreated, pushed the wad of bills deep inside her shoulder bag, and ran out of the bathroom, crying.
Copyright 2008 Myrna Lou Goldbaum. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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