Local Legend, or, Move Over Jersey Devil, a Snow Angel is Overlooking the Pine Barrens (and Camden)!

Last month was my mother’s unveiling. In case you don’t know, an unveiling is a Jewish tradition in which the family of the recently departed unveils the headstone for the first time. It happens about 11 months after the date of death.

There were only a handful of us at the cemetery as my mom’s close cousins had wanted. The Rabbi spoke a few words for my father, my cousins spoke, and I spoke. I told everyone about this dream I had about Mommy:

It was a cold winter day. Within the house where I grew up, there was a classroom filled with children, as though my childhood home had been transformed into an old fashioned schoolhouse. The children were so happy, and they were laughing – it was the sound of the most joyful, youthful glee I’d ever heard. Mommy was teaching them a lesson, and they were all attentive and smiling. Then Mommy told the kids to look out from the window while she went outside. She put on her coat and hat – a beautiful, fluffy white fur with unique black spots and a matching hat [I later learned that this particular kind of fur was considered a mark of royalty] and ran outside into the snow. The kids ran up to the window to watch Mommy drop down and move her arms and legs back and forth, making a shape of an angel in the snow.

I felt a great comfort in this dream, feeling that – wherever my mom is now – she is taking care of and teaching children and making them smile.

After I spoke, Allie and I removed the thin gauze covering the new family headstone as well as my mom’s stone marker. After the ceremony, my mom’s best friend Linda, with whom she taught at Davis Elementary school for almost 18 years, told me an interesting story that stuck with me.

“Sh ira, I wasn’t originally going to tell you about this because I didn’t know how you would feel about it. But after you spoke I figured I would tell you.”

Linda had awakened my curiosity. I waited for the rest.

“There is a fairly new night matron working at Davis. She never met your mother. She was upstairs on the third floor [where my mom’s classroom was] and saw a woman walking around upstairs. She told her that she wasn’t supposed to be there.

“The night matron went downstairs and told the manager that there was a woman upstairs, and that no one is supposed to be there. ‘Who’s upstairs? What does she look like?’ asked the manager.

Linda then told me that the night matron described my mother to a tee, down to height and hair color. “And then she saw a picture of your mother on the wall and pointed to it. ‘That’s her,’ the night matron said, ‘that’s the woman I saw upstairs.’”

Apparently the new night matron of Davis Elementary School in Camden, NJ saw an apparition of my mother, who had passed months earlier.

Whatever you believe, I like to think that my mom left some of her good and protective energy behind for the kids of Davis school. One thing is certain: my mother and I both liked to watch that TV show Medium about the psychic who works for the fictional district attorney of Phoenix, AZ. I’m no Alison DuBois, but call the editors at Weird NJ magazine – this is one for the books!