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 wouldn't have a couple of extra spark plugs he could borrow because his car wasn't running good enough to race on the track.  While we were digging in the extra car parts bins, he began to tell us this was the first time he'd ever raced.  Didn't know a thing about racing, other than he really wanted to try. 

 

     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 on 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 the different tracks like Sacramento Raceway, Samoa Raceway in Eureka, as well as Famoso Raceway near Bakersfield.  Through his hard work, determination, and lots of luck, Pete came home with trophies for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place from each of the tracks.  You could see the excitement beaming out of his eyes every time he raced and the happy childlike smile he had 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, but still seeming like just yesterday, I sat leisurely in the truck reading, but looked up when I got distracted by a man with his head tilted down, stumbling out of the port-a-pot.  I wondered if he was drunk.  He couldn't even pull up his jeans and he seemed to swerve all over the place.  I kept watching from the safety of our truck and saw him fall face down into the dirt.  When a fella rushed over to his aide, I realized that the stumbling drunkard was my friend, Pete.  I called the man helping Pete to come over to our truck and we sat him down.  Pete 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.

 

     "I can't really hear you very well, there's a drag racer at the line and he's doing his burnout."

 

     You've got to get help for Pete, he's had a heart attack!!" I shouted into the walkie-talkie.

 

     "I can't make out what you're saying," Eddie hollered back.

 

     I told Eddie to go the tower and get help.

 

     "I can hear you now, the car's passed by.  You want me to go to the tower for help.  Who's hurt?"

 

     "Pete had a heart attack.  Get the paramedics.  I'm at the truck."  I told him. 

 

     I knew Eddie would run to the tower where the announcers were and they would easily be able to relay the message to the paramedics.  Within 5 or 6 minutes, the paramedics maneuvered their way through the crowd, had an oxygen mask on Pete, and were checking his vitals. 

 

     I managed to find someone with a cell phone and was able to call my friend Deborah Myers, who's business is Health at Your Fingertips.  Deb does energy work using Jin Shin, a form of acupressure.  I knew 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 delight, she picked up the phone on the second ring... "Hello?"

 

     "Hey Deb, this is Jan.  One of my friends had a heart attack at the racetrack and I need to know the acupressure points that will help him.  It's a 20-minute drive to the hospital and this could save his life."

 

     Deb told me to "place one hand on his shoulder and place the other hand on his elbow, this will help the blood flow to the heart.  Then alternate to the other side." 

 

     I felt the tears falling down my face.  I knew this was Divine Intervention.  My being where Pete needed help.  Deb's being home to answer my call on a Sunday afternoon.  I say Pete has some great guardian angels watching over him. 

 

     "Thank you Deb, I'll let you know how my friend is doing later."

 

 

If you want to know more about Jin Shin,

visit Deborah Myers website:  www.HealthAtYourFingerTips.com

 

 

      I passed that information along to Jerry, one of our race team members, who often traveled with Pete to the races. 

 

     "Jerry, I think you need to go with Pete to the hospital and whatever you do, make sure you're always touching him in these places.  His life is at stake here."

 

     Jerry looked at me strangely, "I'm supposed to touch Pete where???"

 

     "This is a form of acupressure and Pete needs all the help he can get.  So when you get to the hospital, touch Pete in these places, please!"

 

     "Okay, okay, I hope they don't think I'm a pervert or something like that," he said.

 

     "They won't think anything about it.  They'll just know you're a caring friend," I promised him.

 

     Before the ambulance doors closed, Pete, being 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 to the elements.

 

     Pete's journey back to health took much longer than anyone anticipated.  His stroke impaired his speech.  Pete also had trouble walking and needed the help of a cane.  In my heart, I knew that Pete wouldn't be with us if it weren't for the quick thinking of so many people coming to his aide.
 

     Over the next eight months, Pete regained his speech and walking abilities and was given the OK by the doctors to race again.  Once bitten by the racing bug, it seems impossible for a true racer to give up racing.

 

     There were so many times after his heart problem that Pete and I would sit down and talk about life and ponder what the future held for both of us.  Pete often told me that he was afraid of dying alone and afraid of no one knowing when he was gone.  He told me that's why he always did his best to be there for others.  He always had time to help someone who'd been on drugs or was trying to give up booze.  Pete had suffered addictions himself and understood how important it was to have the help of someone who understood how hard it was to stop.  Pete knew that by helping others, he would never be alone.

 

     Pete's intentions were all good and well, but each person he tried to rescue didn't have the strength or courage to get off the stuff, leaving Pete with a load of heartache and grief and usually an emptier wallet.

 

     I'd ask him why and how he'd get himself into these situations.  As his friend, I didn't think that those people were good for him and I was pretty sure they weren't helping him in any way.  With the best of intentions, I suggested he go to his church and post a note on the bulletin board for a good person to help him out.

 

     "I tried that and no one responded," would always be his reply.

 

     "Why can't you just live alone?"  I'd ask again and again.

 

     "With my health, it's not safe for me to be alone."

 

     I finally just gave up talking about the situation all together.  It wasn't the picture I would have painted for my friend, Pete, but I respected that he was doing what he needed to do.  In any case, I accepted that it was a moot point.

 

     Five years after Pete's stroke, Pete was doing fairly well, but somehow 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.

 

    On January 10th, we got another surprise, an e-mail 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 riffled 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 taskforce that had been established to capture fugitives who've stolen cars was assigned to Pete's case.  Because of the huge amount stolen ($250,000 to $300,000), the theft was classified as Grand Theft Auto and the case was placed high on their priority list.

 

    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 some how locate him 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.  He wanted to see us without anyone being aware of how very close he was.

 

 

     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 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 those low lives who did this?"

 

     And as usual, not relenting, 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?"

 

     "I think that's very manageable," Pete said. 

 

     "Okay I'm going to hold you to this one, my friend.  There's a lot at stake here and they don't usually get the thieves who did this kind of stuff.  So use all of the pull you have up in heaven to make it happen, my friend."

 

     I saw Pete nod his head in a yes motion and knew he meant every word he promised.

 

     On Sunday January 17th, we received an e-mail from Pete's ex-girlfriend letting us know that the taskforce found the guys who stole Pete's property.  They got all of the vehicles back, except for one; and they'll most likely get that one too.  The thief had already sold it to someone in the Bay Area.

 

 

 

 

 

 

     I closed my eyes and connected with Pete again, "Hey Pete, you out did 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?"

 

     "First of all, the police were hell bent on getting this guy, which helped a lot.  The angels used the media a lot too.  They had a television article on my 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'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 ever has in years.  Congratulations on learning how to tap into it so quickly.  Save a good spot in heaven for me, for when it's my time to show up.

 

Your racing buddy...
 Jan Kucker
  psychic with a loving heart

 

 

Phone:  (707) 579-4809