Bridge to the Departed
His Passion Was Drag Racing ...
a psychic medium who shows YOU the art of empowering your heart & soul
707.579.4809 Land line - receives NO texting Email me at: wingsofangels@JanKucker.com
I suppose I have lots of reasons for sharing the following story with you. For starters, Pete is a dear friend of mine and I miss him, so this is a tribute of sorts to him. It's a validation of dreams coming true too, and it's also a reminder that we all play more important roles in each other's' lives than we may ever realize.
My husband, Eddie, and I were participating in the drag races near Bakersfield, California with our race team, "The Nifty Fifties," when a scrawny little guy with an equally scrawny beard walked up to us and asked if we had a couple of extra spark plugs he could borrow. While we were digging in the extra car parts bins, he told us this was the first time he'd ever raced. He admitted that he didn't know a thing about racing, just really wanted to try it.
That's how our adventure began with Pete Karki. We took Pete under our wings and showed him what he needed to do to be safe when he raced the track. We shared everything we could with him, from how the tree light worked to details like how important a helmet is. It wasn't long before Pete's passion for drag racing rivaled the level of those of us in the group who had been racing for years.
Over the next 10 years, Pete raced with us at tracks from Eureka to Bakersfield. Through his hard work, determination and lots of luck, Pete came home with trophies for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place. He would beam with excitement every time he raced and wear a happy childlike smile whenever he won.
In March 2003, we headed to Famoso Raceway for the big March meet. All the racers get really excited for this one since it's one of the biggest races around, drawing racers from all over California, Arizona and as far away as Australia.
The crowd at the event is always packed so tightly that it's difficult to walk to nearby concession stands to buy refreshments. Avoiding the stampede, I often stay in our truck reading my book while the boys wait for their turn to race.
On that particular day, almost a decade ago—though it seems like it was just yesterday—I sat in the truck leisurely reading when I noticed a man stumbling out of the port-a-pot, head tilted down. I wondered if he was drunk. He couldn't even pull up his jeans, he swerved all over the place and then fell face down into the dirt. I was surprised to discover the stumbling "drunkard" was my friend, Pete. He told me to get an aspirin out of his pocket and put it in his mouth. As I gave Pete the aspirin, I was really racking my brain to figure out what to do next. Navigating through the crowds would be impossible. Cell phones weren't as common then; but luckily, Eddie and I had walkie-talkies handy in case we lost each other in the crowd. I pushed the button on my walkie-talkie and prayed that Eddie had his on.
"Eddie, can you hear me?" I shouted into the mouthpiece. "You've got to get help for Pete! He's had a heart attack!" Eddie ran to the tower where the announcers were and they called 911. Within five minutes, the paramedics had an oxygen mask on Pete and were checking his vitals.
I found someone with a cell phone and called my friend, Deborah Myers, whose business is Health at Your Fingertips. Deb does energy work using Jin Shin Jyutsu, a form of acupressure, and I was sure she would be able to somehow help Pete. I prayed as the phone rang, "Deb, please answer your phone. I really need you." To my relief, she picked up the phone on the second ring.
I told her one of my friends had a heart attack at the racetrack, that it was a 20-minute drive to the hospital and I needed to know the acupressure points that will help him. "It' could save his life," I pleaded. Deb told me to place one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on his elbow, to help the blood flow to the heart, and then alternate sides.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I knew this was Divine Intervention: my being where Pete needed help and Deb's being home to answer my call on a Sunday afternoon. I'd say Pete had some great guardian angels watching over him.
If you want to know more about Jin Shin Jyutsu,
I passed along the information to Jerry, one of our race team members, who would go with Pete to the hospital. Jerry looked at me strangely, "I'm supposed to touch Pete where!" I explained it was a form of acupressure and critical to saving Pete's life.
Before the ambulance doors closed, Pete—a true racer at heart—reached into his pocket and handed me the keys to his truck and trailer. I think he knew his health was in far more serious jeopardy than any of his friends realized. On some level, I think Pete knew he would spend a lot of time in the hospital and didn't want to leave his treasured car unattended and exposed.
Pete's intuition was correct. It took him much longer to recover than anyone anticipated. His stroke impaired his speech; he had trouble walking and needed the help of a cane. But, over the next eight months, he regained his strength and was given the okay by the doctors to race again. Once bitten by the racing bug, it seems impossible for a true racer to give up it up.
Five years after Pete's stroke, Pete was doing fairly well, but suddently he took a turn for the worse. In 2009, Pete was in and out of the hospital so many times that I lost count. His circle of friends knew it was just a matter of time before his heart would give up for good.
On January 9, 2010, my husband and I received the phone call we'd been fearing. Pete's heart had finally given up and Pete had passed on. His memorial would be on Wednesday, January 13th at 5 pm.
The next day we got another surprise: an email from Pete's ex-girlfriend letting us know that all of Pete's hot rods, his motorcycle, truck and trailer, had been stolen, six vehicles in all. The thief also rifled through Pete's papers in the house and stole all of the pink slips. My husband, Eddie, and I couldn't believe someone could do something so low and so soon after Pete's death.
In Manteca, California, where Pete lived, a special task force that had been established to capture fugitives who've stolen cars was assigned to Pete's case. With the vehicles valued at $250,000 to $300,000, this was classified as Grand Theft Auto and the case was high priority.
Wednesday January 13th, we sat in the pews of the church Pete had attended for quite some time, only this time it was for his memorial. The pews were filled mostly with his church friends, a couple of racing buddies, and a few of his biker friends.
I closed my eyes and went into my intuitive mode, focusing on Pete's energy, wanting to somehow locate and connect with him. Within a moment I realized he was standing at the back of the church, near the large entrance doors. I looked at Pete and asked him why he didn't come to the front of the church so he could see all of us. Pete told me he preferred the back where he could see us without anyone being aware of him. I let him know that if that's what was best for him, it worked fine for me too. But I had an idea . . .
"Hey, Pete, you know someone stole all your hot rods, your truck and your trailer. What gives? Who would want to do such a thing?" I asked. I suppose I was feeling protective of his son too and told Pete, "Someone has stolen most of your son's inheritance and now he'll have practically nothing. Since you're on the other side, you'll have a lot more pull than we do here on earth. Why don't you check in with the BIG guy and ask him to help you find the lowlife who did this?"
And, I felt compelled to give Pete a due date so he could get shaking. How about two weeks? That will make it January 27th. Can you do that?" He agreed. I continued, "Okay I'm going to hold you to this one, my friend. There's a lot at stake here, so use all of the pull you have up in heaven to make it happen!"
On Sunday January 17th, we received an email from Pete's ex-girlfriend letting us know that the task force found the guys who had stolen Pete's property. They got all of the vehicles back, except for one, and they expected to get that one too.
I closed my eyes and connected with Pete again: "Hey Pete, you outdid yourself, my friend. You helped the police find your cars in four days. Congratulations on the pull you have upstairs in heaven. You must have used up all your 'good guy' credits for this one," I chuckled. How did you manage to do it so fast?"
He told me how the police were hell bent on getting the guys, which helped a lot. Plus, he said the angels used the media a lot too. "They had a television article on the theft and some good samaritans called in saying they'd seen one of the cars in a field next to the shopping mall. They used the surveillance camera to get the license plate and it was just a matter of tracking them down. So yes, you could say I tapped into a lot of my 'good guy' credits, but it was worth it."
"Pete," I razzed him, "I've talked to a lot of people who've crossed over in the past 20 years—you know that's what I do for a living—but you've beaten the response time of everyone I've ever talked to in getting things done. It must be because you have a new heart and it's beating stronger than it has in years. Congratulations on learning how to tap into it so quickly. Save a good spot in heaven for me, my friend. I'll meet you when it's my time."
Your racing buddy,
a psychic medium who shows YOU the art of empowering your heart & soul
707.579.4809 Land line - receives texting