"Spirit Healer"
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Kevin is a very rare gem he is a true spirit healer. Along with his trio of spirit helpers Kevin has helped many people as testified to in his book "Radiant Friends beside me". Which can be purchased from Spirit Books. For persons wishing to be placed on the ongoing distant healing list' please write with SAE to: 171 Altway, Aintree,
Liverpool (This is not Kevin's residential address) Kevin gratefully accepts donations for his time.
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See Kevin's new book "Radiant Friends 1995 - 2002"
Kevin's book is a compelling
account of many unforgettable life experiences and healings, a remarkable
spiritual development, and the enthralling but authentic supernatural case
histories of Kevin McGrath, a unique medium and healer of his time.
A few words from people that have been helped by Kevin:
“Kevin
McGrath is one of the finest, multi-gifted, psychic channels in service today.
His wonderful book Radiant Friends Beside Me must not be missed”.
Alice Timpson -
Manchester, England.
“I could not put this book down!”. Evelyn Delahaye -
Australia.
“I found Kevin McGrath to be a highly gifted spiritual servant. He
truly has a remarkable story to tell”. J.W.
Shaw, professor of psychology - Columbia Pacific University,
San Rafael, California, USA.
“Kevin McGrath is regarded by the mainstream psychic and spiritual
movements as the leading and most effective soul rescue medium in the UK. His
superb book Radiant Friends Beside Me is crammed with exciting case
histories of hauntings and exorcisms. Many astonishing healing successes,
contact and distant, are also featured in this riveting book”. Gary
Barnes, graphic artist -
Runcorn, Cheshire.
“Radiant Friends Beside Me, now regarded as a “classic”, is
a brilliant book to read in all respects and is strongly recommended”.
E. D. Jones, author and writer - Cheshire, England.
This is the first chapter from
Kevin's book which can be ordered in paperback or digitally:
CHAPTER
ONE
Her father, by all accounts, was a quiet, studious, intelligent man who
was initially employed as a ship’s carpenter and latterly owned a prosperous
tobacco business. My grandmother was employed part-time by relatives working in
their hostel which accommodated foreign seamen.
My grandmother also happened to have strong Irish Catholic sympathies.
This I gathered from my mother, who remembered her waiting at the roadside for
the annual Orange Day Parade and gleefully without warning, hurling the Irish
tricolour into the march, causing a near riot.
Sadly, my grandmother died at the age of forty from a brain haemorrhage;
my grandfather passing on not too long afterwards with pneumonia. My mother was
then housed with relatives in
My parents moved house several times in the early years of their
marriage, before finally settling into a new council house on Dallam Estate on
the outskirts of
My father, also christened Philip, was born in
The earth entrance for my spiritual task took place with my birth, on
The Winter following my birth was very harsh indeed, actually one of the
severest recorded this century, not very suitable for myself, a Leo subject who
is astrologically ruled by the sun, needing warmth. I feel sure that, as an
infant, I would have felt very cold throughout the 1946/47 Winter from the
beginning of this earth life.
Before I reached my first birthday, I suffered an umbilical hernia, and
was rushed to hospital for my first successful operation. At the age of three,
it was noticed that I was suffering from severe stomach pains. My mother
immediately called in the doctor when I became seriously ill. Peritonitis was
subsequently diagnosed; I was again rushed into hospital and quickly lapsed into
a coma. The priest was brought in and the last rites were administered.
As it happened, on this particular day, there was another boy who had
been admitted to the ward with the same condition. The doctor said a new drug
had been given to him and, as it had worked positively, he was hopeful that it
might work for me, and he would like to try it. I was sinking fast, but its
usage proved successful and I recovered very quickly. I am now aware that near
death experiences, although traumatic, usually open up the psychic senses. This
traumatic episode was part of God’s plan for my future tasks.
I was five when my sister Angela, the apple of my Father’s eye, was
born. He had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of a girl since my sister Monica
had previously died due to illness.
I vividly remember the house on the Dallam Council estate where my
parents had finally settled. It was very spartan and cold. There were neither
carpets nor wallpaper. In the bedroom where I slept, it was very damp. I was
always very chesty as a child, suffering from bouts of chronic bronchitis.
As I was maturing, I felt a great affinity to bees, plants insects,
birds, and to cats in particular although I was very wary of dogs. I loved them
but I kept my distance. When I was six years old, a large black dog, a
crossbreed, leapt on me from a nearby garden and bit my leg quite badly. The
estate had many such fierce, uncontrolled strays. I never approached them until
I knew that they were friendly. I possessed an in-built sensitivity which told
me which dogs fell into this category.
As a young boy in my sixth year, I remember walking through the nearby
meadows, inquisitively looking around, and exploring the area by the canal. I
remember my father arriving on his bicycle accompanied by our little mongrel dog
Rex, a very loyal animal, despite being kept in a shoddy little kennel and never
being allowed indoors, which I found unreasonable. After a severe telling off
for wandering near the canal, my father produced a leather belt with a massive
buckle and periodically thrashed me with it whilst hurrying me on the way home.
I remember ducking, to avoid contact, but the blows still bounced painfully off
my head. The punishment was an unforgettable experience - I knew that I didn’t
deserve this kind of treatment.
When I spoke of this incident recently with my mother, she swore that my
father had never physically harmed her, and she will insist on dismissing the
physical abuse I suffered as a trivial matter. In reality, the only action
required at the time was to take me to one side and explain to me the possible
dangers that the local canal presented. I did not need to be physically
assaulted, but he could not see it any other way. I felt very angry about this
episode and probably felt resentful towards my father for a very long time
afterwards.
During my early childhood, I recall brief moments of inner satisfaction
which the insects and birds provided. I was most happy when a butterfly chose to
land on me or especially when a songbird would stay put as I approached it,
letting me listen to its beautiful warbling. I also felt a sense of comfort when
I was surrounded by large trees whilst walking through the nearby woods. I
decided that I owned all the beautiful garden spiders in our rear garden, named
them accordingly, and spoke to each one in turn as they settled in their webs.
The following year a pair of brown mice chose the bottom of our yard for
residence. I was thrilled on discovering their choice of our house, and for the
best part of a week was most excited, constantly lifting the mound and watching
the resultant offspring. My joy quickly turned to sadness when I arrived home at
the end of the week. My mother dispassionately informed me that she had
discovered the nest and had asked my father to lift the mice out and destroy
them. I was heartbroken, and to make matters worse, they could not understand
why the destruction of vermin should cause me so much concern. I felt the mice
had done no wrong at all, being so cute and harmless; my parents felt otherwise.
Later in the Summer a wasps’ nest was discovered in the rear garden on
the bank of a privet hedge. They happily swarmed in and out of their ‘des
res’ throughout the day. I enjoyed watching them immensely, then ...
‘ALARM’ - my mother, on finding it, decided to pour bleach down their little
home. In a state of panic and to prove they would not harm anyone, I lay head
first at the mouth of the nest entrance for a full hour. They poured out during
this time in a regular stream, walked on my face and did not sting me once. My
mother relented. ‘I HAD SAVED THEM!!!’ I then thanked the wasps for acceding
to my request to be on their best behaviour.
The material world was very much a reality and it was thought by my
parents that I was too attentive to vermin, because I did my very best to save
slugs as well as wasps and mice. My mother would insist on pouring salt over
them, but to me, they were living things; to everybody else they seemed
repulsive. Of course they can pose a problem, but still I felt that they too
were part of God’s creation and deserved the right to live. After all they had
not asked to be born.
Leo’s do not take kindly to being rejected. A very early experience was
ingrained on my memory during the annual Walking Day festivities when the local
population, children and adults alike, would walk through the town with their
church banners. By this time I was eight and this was my first walk dressed up
in all my finery, taking part with the Sacred Heart primary school.
The accepted tradition was for relatives and neighbours to run out from
the roadside to place money into the children’s purses whilst they walked.
Every other child in my procession had their purses filled with coins, but mine
was empty. I felt so dejected and actually knocked on a few neighbours’ doors,
cheekily asking for a few coins. It was a sad experience.
My mother never possessed much money. My father’s wages were in the
lowest rate band possible and she made all of our clothes whilst we were
youngsters. During my eighth year, my mother took Philip and I to relatives who
lived on the Wirral coast. She showed us how to collect cockles and mussels and
also took us on a bus journey to Fleetwood to find and pester the trawler men
for crabs, which she later put into her shopping bag to take home.
One day a large half-dead crab escaped whilst travelling back home on the
bus, crawled onto a man’s hat in the next seat and camped there. He was not
aware, being asleep at the time. The whole bus rocked with laughter. She quickly
recovered it and placed it back in her bag. It was bound for the pot. Poor
creature. I had no say in the matter.
In order to help out with the household budget, my father kept chickens
in the rear garden. My mother and father would insist on dispatching me to the
houses in the neighbourhood to collect potato peelings which had been left for
refuse. These would then be cooked and mashed for chicken feed. I felt rather
humiliated when approaching neighbours and asking for their garbage, but I was
forced to carry out this chore under the threat of a clout if I refused.
I remember one particular house I visited where one of the sons never
lost an opportunity to denigrate and ridicule me. I reminded him one day that
his father was a dustbin man and was collecting people’s potato peelings on a
daily basis. He never taunted me again. The message I had delivered proved to be
a most effective deterrent.
During this year in January my mother had to enter hospital for a
prolapsed womb operation. She was expected to be absent for two weeks. Towards
the end of the fortnight, one evening after dinner was finished, I was peering
out of the living room window eagerly awaiting her return when she suddenly
appeared at the front gate with a neighbour carrying her suitcase. My heart
leapt with delight. I loved her so much. My feeling of relief at being close to
her once again was indescribable, an uplifting experience, unhappily not too
often repeated in the early stages of my childhood.
In the depths of the 1954 Winter, I had my first out-of-body experience.
Being a typical ‘scallywag’ I was scooting around the school yard sliding on
the ice at full speed. Suddenly I lost balance, hurtled into a brick wall and
fell heavily, banging my head on the ground in the process. The next instant I
was rising above my body and watching the other children gathered around, trying
to awaken my physical shell.
I recall the incident with mixed feelings - being at the same time
startled and frightened - but also strangely exhilarated and excited. I must
have been hovering about twenty feet above in the air, but as soon as I started
thinking about my body, I felt myself rocketing back into it and recovered
consciousness to find two pals busily slapping my face. The eventual price for
my adventure was a throbbing headache that lasted for the rest of the day.
At the time I didn’t realise that I was experiencing an out-of-body
experience and my schoolmates could not understand my later description of this
little journey. I was so full of mischief at this primary school stage. It
amazed me how I managed to assimilate or digest any educational information at
all.
I took my 11+ examination at nine because of the way my birthday fell
during the Summer. I passed with a high mark and entered the Grammar School at
ten years of age. It was then decided that I should go to a Catholic grammar
school but unfortunately, we lived approximately twelve miles away and my mother
couldn’t really afford the bus fare, so the education department agreed that I
could be placed at the Thomas Boteler Grammar School, where I had heard that
Catholics whilst not entirely welcomed with open arms, were tolerated. It was a
Church of England school.
My ninth year was coming to a close and I remembered at the time the
constant coldness of our house. My brother and I slept together in one single
bed. He was placed at the top with myself at the bottom, with a large khaki
ex-army overcoat covering the two of us. My brother being the stronger, chose
the shoulder end and I was left with the cooler bottom end. We slept in a
fashion with his feet stuck in my face through the duration of the night and
they didn’t smell very sweet either, but the coat was reasonably warm.
My mother never thought that hankies were a necessity because I was
forever wiping my nose on the sleeve of my coat. The shiny reflection was a
fixture. Both my shoes usually had holes in them with three or four layers of
cardboard packed inside which never lasted very long. Sometimes my feet were
left bleeding for hours because I frequently used to walk to school, a distance
of two or three miles, and kept the two pence which my mother gave me for the
bus fare. It was saved to buy sherbets which were regarded as treats. As I
didn’t have any pocket money, my greatest enjoyment was roaming the
countryside, which fortunately, was free.
At this time paranormal activity was increasing at home, phantom
footsteps, frequent voices, knocks, strong fragrances and objects mysteriously
going missing and reappearing. These things went on continually and my mother
became quite used to it; she accepted it knowing the source was surrounding my
father who was a natural psychic.
It was at this time in my ninth year that I began to see colours around
people, which were obviously their auras, a discovery which I found most
intriguing. I also felt a reassuring warmth at times when I felt very lonely and
sad. It was later that I realised that my early brush with death at the age of
three had opened up my psychic centres, and this was enabling me to read the
auras that surround all living creations, and also to be sensitive to the spirit
world.
During this year in the Summer holidays, I underwent a quite eventful
spiritual experience. This was the occasion when I was taken with my family down
to my Aunt Ella’s house in
There were rooms in the house which were always locked. One morning I
happened to close my eyes and immediately saw several bottles of sherry
conveniently hidden in the drawers and cupboards. I mentioned this to my mother
and never thought any more about it. The next day I asked Aunty Ella, “Why do
you keep all those sherry bottles in the cupboards?” My aunt gave me a long,
strange look. Into the third day of the holiday she turned around to my mother
and said, “Well, I think it is time that Kevin went home. I think it is best
for him and me. I just feel uncomfortable with him here.” I protested but was
soon dispatched back to
Afterwards, when my mother returned home, she told me that Aunt Ella had
informed her that she had always thought I was rather strange. She also
confessed to my mother that she was drinking heavily and was secreting the
bottles of sherry around the bedrooms, which I had clairvoyantly seen. I later
learned that she was drinking to ease her suffering, brought on by the harsh
treatment she received from my uncle. That was possibly the first time where my
clairvoyant psychic senses were opened up - maybe uncontrolled, but it was
obvious to me that I knew things that I wouldn’t have known. With hindsight,
if I had been a little more mature, I would have kept quiet, but at that age, I
didn’t know any different and was oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
Now into the third year at primary school, it was always the ultimate
challenge for the boys to climb to the top of the church tower from the inside
shaft which had steel rungs spaced every 46cm. The entrance to the church was
conveniently attached to the school. On impulse, I finally decided to meet the
challenge.
One lunch time, I sneaked into church and found the door to this
particular area from where I could climb the tower. I decided to acquire some of
the candles that were placed by the statue of Our Lady to enable me to light my
way, once I was inside the base of the shaft. I could then safely negotiate my
way to the top of the shaft, which I had to climb to reach the base of the
spire. Finally I made my successful ascent, discovering that the view into the
road below was quite magnificent. Little did I know that across the main road
from the church, the office staff from the Crossfields soap company were looking
out from their windows, watching me hanging in and out from the pillars of the
base of the church spire. They immediately contacted the Fire Brigade and the
police.
The headmaster, Mr Donlevy, was alerted. The next thing I remember was
his bellowing from down below for me to come down. I complied with his request
as quickly as I could. On touching ‘terra firma’ I remarked to him “It was
quite a climb sir.” The headmaster did not look very pleased. His eyes spelled
inevitable punishment for me. I was then dragged off to his rooms and given a
good thrashing with a cane. What left a deep impression on me was the fact that
I was given the thrashing, not for all the chaos I had caused, but mainly for
stealing the candles from the base of Our Lady’s statue. I considered this
illogical chastisement to be a typical reaction from a Roman Catholic headmaster
upholding traditional beliefs; my sin was great! I have since apologised to the
Heavenly Father for this incident. I feel sure that he has forgiven me, as I
only stole two candles.
During the last Summer holiday before I started at the Grammar School,
myself and some other rascals were drawn to the irresistible playground which
was the American tip belonging to Burtonwood Army Base, just a couple of miles
away from my house. To reach this particular dump one had to negotiate many
obstacles, iron railings, a railway embankment, railway lines, a bridge, and a
wide fast flowing brook (over which was a large cast iron services pipe, covered
with long spikes).
I used
to run across this, with total disregard to the dangers involved. A field full
of cow pats presented the final obstacle before reaching the tip itself.
It was a wonderful feeling moving and rooting amongst all the militaria
and discarded uniforms. I carefully chose one and by the time I made my way back
to the estate, following the other kids. I was transformed into an officer,
wearing an oversized American Captain’s uniform, gleaming with insignia. The
trouser legs, which I had hitched up, were trailing around my feet nearly
tripping me up, but I felt triumphant, an emotion that soon evaporated when I
reached home, because the smell of the tip was a dead give-away.
My father’s reaction was to give me a good belting. He was a big man,
190cm tall, and weighing 100 kilos and he didn’t think twice about using his
hands. Psychic abilities he undoubtedly possessed, but as far as sensitivity to
my pain was concerned, he didn’t seem to be aware of it, or at least never
showed it.
The local canal was also a great attraction in which I used to swim,
naked. It was free to use and this fact also appealed strongly to all the kids.
It really was a dangerous and diseased place to swim, where we actually courted
death, as people were strongly suspected of using it to dispose of their dead
pets. In reality, the canal waters were filthy, but I loved the swimming and
diving. Having no pocket money I could not go to the local swimming baths.
Unfortunately, the canal smell used to linger quite strongly and I also got a
good hiding for that on reaching home.
One Saturday morning during the school holidays Michael Littler, one of
my pals, called at my house to help me clear out the chicken coop and also to
conveniently help himself to some produce from the large blackcurrant and
loganberry bushes at the bottom of our garden.
We finished the chores quite quickly and were seated having a welcome
drink of milk in the kitchen. My mother returned home from the butcher’s stall
and carefully placed a large sixpenny bag of bulls-eyes on the table. She had
purchased them for the purpose of cooking and pressing, which she expertly
carried out with the aid of two tin plates and a large flat iron. The end
product provided the family with an abundant stream of sandwiches which I
personally didn’t relish, but, nonetheless, ‘beggars could not be
choosers’ when it came to mealtimes.
My mother briefly spoke to us and went into the hall to hang up her coat.
Michael, unfortunately, could not resist peeking into the bag which resulted in
him clumsily dragging it off the table and scattering the eyes all over the
kitchen floor. It was an eerie sight as some of them appeared to be staring
directly towards us. Michael’s face drained and he left quickly through the
back door.
I recall shouting to him quite angrily with an air of resignation,
“Mike, you rotten swine, don’t leave me. You know I will have to face the
music!” whereupon my mother returned, saw the mess and was most displeased.
“Pick them all up before they dry and be quick”, she remarked. It was a most
unpleasant task. She cooked them that night. Michael made himself very scarce
for a few months - we were never quite as friendly again and I still had to eat
some of the finished product over the following week.
Page last updated November 7th 2004 ой protected
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