Da Juana Byrd

There are times in life when someone you don’t even know makes a difference in your life. That is what the Crocodile Hunter did for me. I knew that he was helping others understand the importance of animals to us whether we wanted to believe or not. His zest for life and his fascinating manner in expressing his knowledge helped so many. And it wasn’t just the animal world he served.

Though he didn’t profess to be psychic, he certainly had a way with animals, especially those whom most thought unlovable. So, I wanted to say goodbye to him as well and to wish him more success on the other side where he will be with more animals than ever. He might even get to see a dinosaur or two.

He certainly made my day a few times. Though he was intelligent about animals, he didn’t know everything and he was quick to let you know that too. I recall a day when he was holding a snake up close to his face and said to the audience, “If this were a poisonous snake, I would not be holding it near my face like this but it isn’t poisonous. It is a look alike, or some words to that effect.” Then the snake bit him on the lip and it immediately started swelling. Without a hiccup, Steve said something like, “The little sucker bit me. And it was poisonous.”

Like us, animals have personalities. Some are mild mannered while others take exception to human interaction. You happened to find one who was frightened and took exception that day, Steve, and you handled it with the same great finesse you handled all your excursions in the wild. You will be missed. Especially by me.

Da Juana

Sunday, just barely afternoon, I saw a man, a ghost, standing in my doorway like so many others had. He was different, however. This man made sure that he came to me in a way that others haven’t. I knew that I knew him because of his hair but was unsure who he was. And dumb me, I didn’t ask. What I did was feel him and he felt as good to me as he did while alive. The way he appeared was like a sheet of white paper or literally a sheet, which had cut outs as if someone had taken an artist knife and cut strips out. You could see that it was a man but you couldn’t get enough to see who the man was. It was almost as if he wanted me to guess or, and I think this to be it, he wasn’t sure exactly how to appear. Sheet, like Casper, or no sheet?

All day long, he would whip by my face and brush me in a soothing caress. Then take up residence in a doorway so that I could see through those slits in the sheet. He was so unusual that I told Claude about him.

The next morning we got a call from a good friend of ours who Claude knew and worked with for many years. They were like brothers. When the phone rang, I saw the caller ID that it was Harold. Instead of waiting for him to start talking, I immediately asked, “Is he okay?” The person hesitated. I asked again.

Then she quietly said, “No, he’s gone. He died yesterday around noon.”

At that point, I knew who had been trying to get my attention all day long. He had the most gorgeous hair. That is something I love and he made sure his sheet showed that. Later I asked why he came to me in that way and today I got my answer. He had told me years ago, when I told him that his father would wait on him to get home before he died and this happened, that he was unsure he believed in what I did but he loved me anyway. Today, he explained the reason he came to see me right after leaving the body. It was to tell me that now he understood and that there is something to what I told him.

Bye Harold, gone but not forgotten. Hope you come to see me again. We love you.

Da Juana