Some people believe that a vortex is a destructive force that draws one into it. Others hold the opposite view, i.e., a vortex is a whirling, powerful force that enables one to find a good place of one's own where truth is revealed.
Some folks believe in angelic beings sent by a loving God to deliver a saving message. At times the angel can be in human form and sometimes be represented by an animal. I believe in God and his angels.
My own positive vortex is three blocks from my home on Main Street, Hellertown, due west in a wooded area familiarly known as the Cinderbanks or first home of the Saucon Iron Company begun in 1866.
There at the same spot now occupied by Rails to Trails I have encountered three angels within the last seven years. The first occurred the night after Hellertown Borough Council voted not to develop a substantial portion of the wildlife habitat, but to designate the area as a park.
It was dusk when I approached the vortex to thank God for saving the land. As I turned to leave the woods to head home up Thomas Avenue, a herd of deer passed quietly before me. I stood motionless. The last deer stopped in my path and our eyes met for perhaps two minutes. It was the first pure white albino that I had ever seen. As it ambled off to join its fellows, I wept for joy all the way home.
The second encounter was three years later. I was standing quietly watching a hawk riding the wind. A senior lady approached on the rutted, rocky path at mid-day. After exchanging pleasantries, she told me that she was recovering from a hip replacement, and I wondered to myself why she had chosen this uneven path. She turned east to enter Thomas Avenue. Suddenly, she was back and said, "Here, I forgot to give you this." She handed me a fresh four-leaf clover and I thanked her. Within 30 seconds or so I followed her steps out of the woods. She was gone. I looked east, north and south. Since I knew all the neighbors, I assumed she lived at the Manor. But it was impossible for her to have climbed the hill so quickly.
I took the clover home and placed it between pages of my dad's copy of "The Compleate Angler" by Izaak Walton.
I had just completed a 6-mile trek and felt great. By 4pm all strength had gone and I felt as if I were having a heart attack. I phoned a friend and he told me to call 911 for Dewey Ambulance Squad. I did this and staggered downstairs to unlock the door to my second floor apartment while nearly losing consciousness.
I did not come to my senses until the E.R. A couple hours later my blood count was so low that I received the first of six pints of blood. I had almost bled out from a stomach ulcer. After a day or two, I recalled the clover lady. You see, my father while he lived could spot a four-leaf clover for each of his six grandchildren whenever they asked over many summers of green lawns. Coincidence? I don't think so.
Three weeks ago from today, Nov. 1, 2012, I was hotly pursuing one of my "causes," again in the woodland to the west. I was "all hot and bothered" by the many ATVs and motorized dirt bikes nearly running down women and children on Rails to Trails and on the old paths through the woods nearby. I angrily remarked to a passer-by with his girlfriend that I was attempting to locate one of these intruders. He said, "I think you're a very angry man and something is wrong with you!"
As I walked off, I realized he had just delivered a word of truth, a word from another power source. I dropped the rock I had been holding "in case," and slowly walked home. After becoming very sick, I stayed home for weeks until Oct. 31, when I set out on a quiet two-hour walk on Rails to Trails south to Bingen and back again, having met some fine people and even had the chance to pet a few dogs and offer them a treat. Dogs are so comforting, especially in the area of one's vortex. Let the reader judge if this is folly or not.