Channeled Communication from Captain Frank Callahan NYC Fire Dept.

This communication from Captain Frank Callahan came through me on the 5th anniversary of his death. Captain Frank died in the tragedy of 9/11. I have channeled a lot of material over the years but this experience is as close to the top as they get.  I cried as he shared this story with me…not so much because of the painful memories but at the beauty and wisdom of his experience.  The added touch was that “Norman”, a personal friend of mine, was Frank’s guide through all of this. Norman was a gentle man, a musician and Spiritualist Minister…well liked and respected in his community of San Jose, Ca. It was at the Spiritualist Church in San Jose that I met Norman and since his passing Norman has worked with me in a tireless and brilliant fashion. It would be just like Norman to volunteer for the duty of such a difficult rescue operation.

It is my privilege to honor all the fallen spirits today by putting this up on my website, in hopes to inspire you as this writing has inspired me.

I love you   Please forgive me   I am sorry    Thank you!


Dear Friends who pray and seek peace…

We are here to thank you all for your concerns, your insights, and hard work. I am fire captain Frank, a captain in the NYC fire department. I represent so many who have lost their families and who have prayed for those of us who died on 9/11, to be safe. I am happy to say that many of us have found our new lives and have found peace. Many still linger in resentment and choose to live in the darkness which 9/11 created for all if us as Americans.  So many have made other choices. Some have decided to grow in their spirits, to recognize that we have far more power to change things then any of us pre- 9/11 would have ever imagined.  Some of us have stayed closer to our families than we ever thought possible. Some have chosen simply to move on and walk away from that day and the lives they once knew. However we have processed individually, the majority of us have stayed together as a collective to watch and honor the peace makers and their journey to salvage what was once a great America. Sadly, America has lost its direction and from over here we see the tear in the fabric of what we used to feel we stood for and promoted in our civil liberties and the freedom we hold so dear. I come today to warn, but also assure. I come today as the elected representative of those of us who died, to paint a new picture and to call for the understanding that is necessary to change the Grief into Light Action.

One of the first things that brought us together when we died was the incredible roar of angels singing. We almost forgot who we were and where we had come from because the roar of angels’ music completely surrounded us. We were drawn collectively into this huge hall and were  promptly loved and held by thousands of lighted beings. I could never have imagined anything so beautiful. When I came to…so to speak…and realized what had happened, I asked a kindly gentleman sitting next to me who all these people/beings were and how was it that the music was so beautiful? He responded in a way I will never forget.  He took my hands and said, as he looked so gently in my eyes, “Son, this is the result of the world praying for all of you.”

I cried. I cried deeply and reverently because I had NEVER known such kindness. I cried because I knew that my family and the families and friends of the others who were lost would be crying in desperation and grief. I cried because I felt sorry for those “on the ground” who didn’t know this. And then the strangest thing took place. Yes, stranger than what had already happened to me! I looked over to see where my “boys” were, the ones that had died in the attack with me. I saw only a few at first. I got a bit worried but the gentleman with me never left my side and knew I was frightened. I wanted to make sure that everyone “got out” and had come over here, wherever “here” was. He took my hand again and told me to look over and ahead of where we were standing. I couldn’t believe my eyes yet again. There was this beautifully magnificent eagle flying all around us.  It must have been larger than the biggest commercial jets we have in the USA. It was proud as it flew but it was more than a beautiful bird;  it had several foreign looking fellows in its talons.  At first I didn’t recognize them but I started to shake as I recognized that these foreign fellows must be the hijackers of the planes that ran into the towers. I was appalled and I was angry. The others grew anxious as they recognized who these men were. The anger started to catch hold like a fire that couldn’t be stopped. All of a sudden the beautiful angelic voices stopped and we found ourselves in this horrible place, full of anxiety and torment. We could barely breathe. How could this be and where had we gone?

The gentleman, thankfully, was still holding my hand and reassuring me that this moment could be temporary. I didn’t understand anything that was happening at this point.  All I knew was that I seemed to be back in the darkness again; the pain, the smothering heat, the screams of death were everywhere. I begged my friend for help and to get me and the others out of this place. “Show me the way”, I screamed, “Show me the way out !”Nothing happened and I was angry and felt betrayed. Was I to burn in hell for this? Was this hell? What was happening? From the most beautiful place to the darkest abyss, all in a few seconds. Was this where we were doomed to stay, in this pit of ugliness? I looked around and realized that there were many suffering close by me. We tried to talk to each other about what was taking place but it was to no avail.  We were lost, destined  to wander in the atrocity of this attack, labeled by the very act of being connected to the rescue attempts we were trying to make. What was happening? Then the man took me gently aside and said, ” This is the other side of prayer. The words of success at destroying others, has shaped this event and experience. Those who wanted this destruction are rejoicing and this is the energy which is surrounding you now.”  Oh my God ! I couldn’t believe the immediate shift. Were we all destined to be locked into those prayers of destruction and seeming payback by those radicals who had shaped these terrible events?

Then this kindest of kind men looked at me again, straight in the eye and charged me with this question: “Which do you choose?”

“What do you mean, what do I choose? I have a CHOICE?”

“Yes, Thankfully you do. Do you wish to be saved and healed by the choir of angels sent to you in prayer by those who believe in the power of love and forgiveness, or do you wish to swim in the sea of despair and retribution?”

You would think that I could answer easily and quickly but the experience was so foreign to me and so much further than any experiences on earth that I simply had to take some time to let it all sink in. My friend continued to stand with me and said, “If you go to the light your family of co-workers will go with you too. You are greatly respected and show such courage in the face of danger. They trust you to know. You have the power to shift this experience and bring truth and joy in the midst of deep despair.”

For a moment I, too, was dark, lost, angry and sullen. I saved lives, not took them. How could I be in this darkness? I was a so-so Catholic but I believed in God and treating others fairly. How could I stand by and release all this anguish as if I didn’t even care? And then I heard my men calling for me.  “Captain, Cap…where are we? Help! We are lost…where did the light go?” Within a few short moments of time I realized that I had the opportunity to continue to lead my trusting men back into the thoughts of prayer so strong that the darkness we were experiencing would quickly be removed. I squeezed my new friend’s hand indicating that it was the release of darkness I wished for myself and my men. Then he asked me the most difficult question ANYONE could ever ask me. “Do you see the eagle again?”

“Yes,” I replied.”In order to get back to the prayer, the light, the forgiveness, the healing you so desperately need, you must forgive these men…those men who took your life, their own and thousands of others.”

I thought I would die all over again as the anger and resentment began to build inside of me. How COULD he ask that of me? He just continued to hold my hand and smile, sending me warm thoughts of comfort and clarity.  All of a sudden I was with my grandma and my aunties. They were standing all together, holding each other and smiling. I didn’t hear them speak but I heard their hearts singing to me. They sang to me songs of the God of Love and Forgiveness that we used to sing at church. They reminded me that the only way to God was to forgive. I began to cry uncontrollably as I recognized what this all meant. I could not move into the place of Heaven with discontent, anguish, hatred or despair. The angles sang to us as a result of all those people around the world praying for us. These prayers were so beautiful, so forgiving that nothing could keep us from the joy of God.  When the hijackers were brought to us by the eagle all my own darkness shifted the beauty of the prayers we were receiving. In essence, we were giving the prayers away, denying their power. Our own anger was betraying us and nothing would save us from the darkness as long as we were honoring our own  anguish and hatred. What an interesting point of betrayal was coming forth. It seems that we were betraying ourselves. We had forgotten to forgive in order to be released. In those few moments as me and the men were coming to grips with this the sounds of the angels  started to reach our sad ears once again. We knew what we had to do in order to be truly free. I thought of Martin Luther King Jr. and his words…”Free at last.  Free at last. Thank you, God we are free at last”.  Now I KNEW what he meant.

It took awhile for everyone around me to come to the same conclusions as I did but once we did the Light grew brighter, our senses grew keener and our hearts started to feel lifted. The only tears now were for those who did not know this…and the grief that they would carry needlessly. What a sad moment for all of us.

I have communicated with several other medium/psychics but this is the first time I have written this through someone. The wonderful kind gentleman with me insisted that it was time. He says that you know him. His name is Norman. He says that he used to teach piano lessons and that he died of cancer quite a long time ago.  He has told me about you and the work that you and your friends are doing. I have watched you closely to learn and to grow. I am now working towards peace in our world. I have worked tirelessly to understand how this whole thing works. I am getting the hang of it Norman says. I have tried to communicate with my family and friends and have had some success but the grief keeps them from knowing the joy that we are all “right here”…just on different sides of the light.

Thank you, Jeanne, for taking the time to write this down for me. And thanks to EVERYONE who has prayed and done rescue work for those of us who left our physical bodies during the attack on the towers. I don’t choose to see the tower attacks as darkness…I choose to see them as light events: a time when we were shown how important it is to choose what we will serve…the consciousness of love and forgiveness…or the painful memories of loss and destruction. There are still those who died who have not yet been willing to “cross over into this form of understanding” but those of us who have just keep singing: “Free at last. Free at last. Thank you, God we are Free at last.” My other favorite is “Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam”…You all need to know how powerful prayer is and continues to be for all of us. To help us and to help the world please don’t fall into the pity party victim syndrome.  It is a useless world that only sings to itself and simply goes nowhere.

In His Love and Guidance, Frank