In August, 1968, I was standing in my parlor in a house in South Jersey looking out the window when I heard a voice saying, "Hey, Jim. Hey Jim!"
I couldn't tell if it was male or female. I went outside on this dreary day to see who it was and saw nothing. The room had a strong smell of flowers.
That night I mentioned it to my wife at the time and she told me she experienced the exact same thing the day before flowers and all. Not thinking too much of it, it was forgotten.
About a month later, I did some painting for a guy who hired me and told me he would drop off a check for me. Sure enough, he came that night and I invited him in. After some conversation he told us that he was in our house 18 years ago when his friend Jim Smith was laid out under the very window my wife and I experienced the voice and smell.
He went on to tell us about all the flowers that were present at Mr. Smith's funeral! Jim Smith was killed in an auto accident years before and he and his sister Mary were to move into the house on the day he died.
Though she was still alive at the time, it was said she called out to him, not knowing about the unfortunate accident. Did we both hear her message 18 years later?