Countless times I’ve sat my daughter down and said, “Youngin’, my two favorite historical figures in all the world are Albert Einstein and Mark Twain.
Today, I have the privilege of writing about Mark Twain and his link to the paranormal, while at the same time, I can shamelessly plug an earlier novel I wrote called A Haunting Melody.
In case you missed the plug, you can train your peepers on the featured photo hanging on the port side, above. Port side is left for all you landlubbers.
I was inspired to write my nautical romance story by my hubby, the dashing sea captain I refer to in my bio, and by Samuel Clemmons–of Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn fame–who began his career as a riverboat pilot on the Great Mississippi. Bet you didn’t know that.
What you also didn’t know and must now be told is the STARTLING coincidence (sorry I had to shout) between his true story and my fake one, which I’d swear on a stack of pancakes or bibles—your choice–that I did not know of till this very morning. After conducting my own exhaustive Google search on Mark Twain’s link to the paranormal (my head researcher was home sick from middle school today), I found incredible supernatural tidbits to sprinkle on my paranormal salad.
I had known for some time that Mr. Twain was born on Halley’s comet—not straddling it, Dr. Strangelove style, but rather he was born Nov, 1835, when Halley’s comet first appeared and was quoted to say that he’d like to go out with it, which he did, and on the same fateful date in April, 1910.
Here is the exact quote, for you sticklers of exact quotes, though I tend to be more of a paraphraser myself.
“I came in with Halley’s Comet in 1835. It is coming again next year (1910), and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don’t go out with Halley’s Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt: “Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.”
– Mark Twain, a Biography
This proves Mr. Twain was no slouch when it came to his own psychic abilities. As it turns out, I’m not much of a psychic slouch either, though I do need to work on my posture more. If I must toot my own psychic horn, and I apologize for tooting it so loudly in public, I must share some personal psychic synchronicities here with you.
In my research on Twain, prior to the writing of A Haunting Melody (I propose we make this a drinking game to keep the college kids interested), I came across many anecdotal stories of Twain’s life as a riverboat captain, but had not known about the tragic death of his younger brother, Henry.
Here are some true facts about Mark Twain that pertain to my story:
Twain had secured his twenty year old brother, Henry, a job on a steamboat. The engineer on board was too busy flirting with passengers to vent the steam that had been building up, and the steamboat subsequently exploded, killing his brother and over a hundred other crew and passengers on it. What was most remarkable was the fact that Twain was supposed to be on board with his brother Henry, but he’d had an altercation with the captain and was forced to hop another steamer, at the last minute, thereby avoiding his brother’s tragic fate when it exploded.
In my own A Haunting Melody (time to take a shot), my main character, Daniel, a riverboat captain, secured his younger brother, Henry (same name and very near the same age), a job on board a steamer.
My character, Daniel, like Twain, was also scheduled to ride with Henry, but had to hop aboard another steamer, thereby avoiding his brother’s tragic fate, when it exploded and killed him. Again, like Twain, my character also had a sister who mourned her brother Henry’s tragic death. Too weird, is it not?
Kubler-Ross, a renowned psychiatrist and expert in the field of near-death experiences and synchronicity, says there are no coincidences in life, and I was told by someone well-versed in such matters, that I had, in fact, channeled a good portion of A Haunting Melody (take a shot), unwittingly.
And now for the real kicker: A week before Twain’s brother was killed, Twain had a precognitive dream in which he saw all the events of Henry’s death. He even observed his brother laid out in a metal casket that was perched atop two chairs. On Henry’s chest lay white roses, with a red one in its center.
Poor Twain was so freaked out by the dream, he ran to check on his younger brother and was relieved to find him alive and well at his sister’s home, where they were both staying.
Only a week after the vivid dream, Henry’s riverboat exploded, and Henry soon died of his injuries. Before the funeral, Twain saw Henry’s metal casket balanced on two chairs, as it was in his dream, only there were no roses anywhere in sight.
Then, right before Twain’s very eyes, a nurse casually walked in and lay white roses on Henry’s chest, with one red rose arranged in its center, just as he’d seen it.
Best as I can figure, it must’ve been my love for this powerfully witty and talented writer that brought my synchronistic world in alignment with Mark Twain’s, if for only this brief moment in time as I wrote A Haunting Melody (take one final shot—and now that I’ve got you drunk, I urge you to buy my book!).
Like Mark Twain, we should all be so lucky to blaze in and out on a comet, and leave such an indelible streak in the heavens!