Time Slips

This account is from just six months ago!
https://www.wirralglobe.co.uk/news/23277670.tom-slemens-haunted-wirral-peggy-gadflys-timeslip/  Quoting main part:

In the back garden of a house on New Brighton’s Victoria Parade in August 2022, a 60-year-old man named Jimmy McRandle was helping his 24-year-old daughter Jenny to cut the grass . . . Jenny offered her dad a bottle of a chilled high-energy drink as he switched off the Flymo, and he asked: 'What’s that noise?' Father and daughter heard a faint crackling sound and then everything became quiet.
'I can feel static electricity all over me,' said Jenny. Dad Jimmy stroked his forearm and nodded: 'So can I, what is it?' he asked, and there was a loud bang which made Jenny scream. The two of them saw everything go dark, and then found themselves surrounded by a bright green light. Now it was night.

A moment ago the August sun had been beating down on Jimmy and Jenny, but now it was night-time, and cold, and a full moon was hanging in the sky instead of the sun. They were no longer in Jenny's back garden either – they were outside a building that they recognised as the New Brighton Hotel – but when Jenny had visited the place a few days ago it had been called The Bar & Lounge – now it was called Peggy Gadfly’s.
'How – how did we get here? What just happened?' Jenny asked her dad, and he looked as bewildered as her. He was gazing at the pub. He slowly said: 'That used to be the name of the pub years ago – Peggy Gadfly's. What the hell is going on?'

The two of them had somehow travelled about 600 feet west of Jenny’s house, and, according to Jimmy, they appeared to have gone back in time.
'Oh my God, Jenny,' said Jimmy, looking at a red-haired man going into the pub, 'that's John Duffin – he died in the 1990s!' 'Let’s go to my place dad, come on,' Jenny suggested, grabbing her father by the arm, but he remained rooted to the spot. 'Let's just go in here and see what the bloody hell is going on.'

He went into Peggy Gadfly's and there was a DJ named Alan who he hadn’t seen for years and there was Duffin, an old neighbour of Jimmy who had died of a brain haemorrhage around 1998. Jimmy felt as if he was dreaming. He turned to Jenny, who was looking about nervously, and he said: 'I used to drink in here years back, when it was Lacey’s Bar, about 1995. Sweet Jesus, we’ve gone back in time.'
'Dad, let’s go, this is creeping me out,' said Jenny, but the ‘dead man’ John Duffin came over, looked Jimmy up and down and asked him if he was related to Jimmy McRandle.
'I AM Jimmy McRandle,' came the reply, 'it's me, John.' John shot a puzzled look at Jimmy, then gazed at his grey hair and smiled: 'Jimbo’s hair’s as black as coal; you his uncle?'
'No, I told you – 'Jimmy replied, but his daughter grabbed his hand and squeezed it and said: 'Dad! Let's go. We’re not supposed to be here.'

Jimmy noticed the tabloid newspaper on a table in the corner. He picked it up and read the date; Friday, 27th September, 1996. On the pub telly, the game show Catchphrase with Roy Walker was just starting.
'Can I get you and your lovely daughter a jar?' John Duffin asked, eyeing Jenny, but Jimmy turned and walked out of the pub and Jenny hurried after him.

They strolled up Victoria Road, the two of them in a daze, unsure what they were doing; the night paled before their eyes, the sun reappeared and then Jenny noticed her neighbour in his Land Rover Discovery 5 - a vehicle that had certainly not been around in 1996. They had returned to 2022.

Jimmy McRandle felt relieved to be back, yet so sad; he had been 34 'back there' – where had all those years gone to? He told his wife what had happened and she was convinced someone had somehow spiked the coffee he and Jenny had drunk earlier that day. It would seem, through some unknown phenomenon, a man and his daughter were teleported through space and time to a location 26 years into the past.


EDIT: I'm only 35% convinced by this story. It goes a bit too smoothly. Ideally, people who claim paranormal experiences should be interviewed by a couple of investigators who will get a sense of their honesty.

This one I find more convincing - it's a mixture of strangeness and normality:

http://www.assap.ac.uk/newsite/articles/Time%20slip.html

Also very much on the strange side:


Tom Slemen's Haunted Wirral: Tropical Timeslip in Rock Ferry

Around 6.15pm on the wintry evening of Thursday, December 28th, 1972, dozens of passengers on the 6.10pm train from Liverpool Central to Rock Ferry were stranded when a gang of yobbos threw a large piece of metal on the electrified railway line, short-circuiting the power supply. The wanton act of vandalism caused mayhem; trains bound for Rock Ferry were turned around at Birkenhead Central Station while the line was cleared and repaired.

Ironically, most of the passengers left stranded onboard the train immobilized by the incident were less than 200 yards from their destination. Many of them wanted to get off and walk to the station, but a British Rail spokesman said that could not be allowed because there was a risk the high-tension electricity could be switched back on while they were walking along the track with disastrous consequences. Not until after 7pm was the train able to continue to Rock Ferry.

That freezing December evening, something very strange took place after the metal hit the rail track; there was a shower of sparks, a multicoloured aura and the watches of some of the passengers on the train stopped. The watches were not magnetized by the spectacular short-circuit because they started again around 9pm that night. One passenger named Peter Stevens got in touch with me years later and told me how his Bifora watch somehow went backward an hour, even though he had not touched the watch crown.

But the most incredible occurrences concern an apparent number of timeslips at the site of the Rock Ferry incident.

Two 13-year-old boys, Geoff and Brian, were in the immediate area the night the piece of metal was thrown on the line, as one of the boys – Brian – lived on Lees Avenue (which runs parallel to the railway line), and he was in the backyard of his home that night, trying to look at the stars with a telescope he’d received for Christmas. Geoff was standing on the backyard wall when he saw the explosion of sparks and the coloured glow as the line’s high voltage supply was shorted. The two lads watched the stranded train and the British Rail workmen who came to repair the line.

The next day, the two boys did a stupid thing; they climbed over the backyard wall, crossed a plot of private land that was overgrown with weeds that were sticking out of the frozen hard mantle of virgin snow, and they managed to get to the railway embankment. Brian told Geoff they should go back, but Geoff never listened to his mate and walked on, and something very strange happened: he noticed a clump of what looked like giant green ferns, some over six feet in height, in the middle of the snowy ground, and when Brian and Geoff looked between the thick stems of these plants, they saw something utterly bizarre: a jungle. The heat from this impossible place was wafting into the wintry air as a faint vapour, as pale as the exhaled breaths of the boys on his December day. Geoff ventured into the hot greenery and then Brian gingerly followed him.

Geoff walked about ten yards into the inexplicable steamy locale, but Brian panicked and rushed back the way he had come and found himself back on the wintry embankment. He turned around and slowly ventured through the giant ferns again and saw Geoff crouching down to look at a lizard of some sort. "Geoff, let’s go back and tell someone what we found," Brian said to his friend with some urgency in his voice. Geoff took no heed of his friend’s advice and tried to grab the lizard, but it ran off and vanished into the ferns, shrubs and orchids.

The boys then heard a humming sound that grew in intensity, and Geoff spotted the source of the noise first: an approaching train that looked nothing like the trains that usually ran on that line. This one was sleek, of gleaming chrome with tinted windows and aerodynamically streamlined. The luminous amber word "Chester" could be seen on the nose of this strange train, which halted in this baffling jungle. The doors slid open with a faint whirring sound and wedge-shaped ramps came from under the entrances. Venturesome Geoff smiled and said: "Let's get on it."

He walked up the ramp and went into the empty carriage, then turned, and noticed Brian had not joined him. "Come on, cowardy custard – before the doors close!" he shouted to Brian, who looked so worried. Brian reluctantly got on the train and heard a voice say, "Doors closing." The train moved off, then accelerated to such a speed, Geoff and Brian were thrown backward by the inertia. Geoff ended up pressed into an upholstered seat and poor Brian lay on the floor, crying. Within a few minutes, they heard a voice that came from some tannoy system stutter – "Chester". The train decelerated with a descending tone until it arrived at a station – a deserted station with not a soul to be seen.

The lads were going to leave the carriage when some sort of small two-legged robot came on the train and started to clean and vacuum the floor and seats as it played soft music. The boys hurried off the train onto a platform and walked the length of it to see who the driver was – but they could see no one in the driver's cab. The train pulled away and the lads watched in awe as the vehicle shot off like a bullet. All around was the sound of unfamiliar bird calls and that all-enveloping jungle. By now, the T-shirts of the boys were soaked with perspiration, and they began to feel thirsty. Brian started to panic and told Geoff they should never have boarded the train. Geoff wandered off and, unlike Brian, seemed excited at the thought of being lost in a strange environment.

He and Brian walked for hours until they felt they were going to faint from heat exhaustion, but somehow they ended up on Chester’s Lightfoot Street – back in 1972. The boys called at the house of a woman, asking for water, and she could see their faces and arms were red raw with sunburn – despite it being December. The lads told her their strange story and the woman’s daughter drove the boys to Brian’s home.

The lads' story was not believed by their parents but a doctor who looked at Brian and Geoff said they were suffering from dehydration, exhaustion and heatstroke, caused by over-exposure to the sun. Had the two Rock Ferry boys - by way of some timeslip -somehow visited the area as it would be one day when climate change might have caused England to become tropical? If so, where were all the locals?

A new account from Tom Slemen on Twitter which also features a seemingly future England with a hot climate.  Quoting:


Spent most of the day interviewing a man named Rob who got in touch with me via the Echo after reading one of my newspaper articles about the Bold Street timeslips. I have since checked out the details Rob supplied about his alleged timeslip experience and they seem to vindicate that something strange happened to him. I contacted his former employer who said that Rob did report in sick after saying something bizarre had happened to him in March 1987 in the Bold Street area, and I also checked up on a few other people Rob mentions in his story and they confirmed he had told them of his experience in early April 1987 and they had thought he was joking at first or possibly pulling an April Fool joke.

In March 1987 Rob was heading for Central Station to see if he could travel to Aigburth to visit a relative. He had just been to Dixons on Ranelagh Street to look at some home computers. He was not thinking of anything remotely paranormal, but when Rob was about to walk into the railway station he felt ill and dizzy, and abandoned the trip to Aigburth and walked up the incline leading to Bold Street. He saw palm trees to his right and hardly recognised any of the shops. He also became aware of an unbearable warmth which he likened to walking around in Florida. He walked down Bold Street and crossed into an almost unrecognisable Church Street, and saw most of the people were dressed in white - the men in white suits and white wide-brimmed hats, and women in white skirts (but a few in trousers of that colour too); they also had wide white hats on.

Rob thought he was going mad and started to panic. He heard a low pitched sound down the bottom of the Church Street and saw it was some type of monorail coming from the direction of James Street. This monorail stopped at a station near what must have been Whitechapel and Rob saw the words "Anglesey to Manchester" on the front of the monorail. He lit a ciggie to calm himself and got some strange over reactive looks from passers-by for doing so. He passed through what seems to have been a park near Derby Square, where the Queen Victoria Monument normally stood (but it was absent), and the plants there were huge tropical ferns and strange brightly coloured flowers. A policeman walked past Rob and gazed at the cig in his mouth and glared at him, so Rob threw it onto the floor and stepped on it, and the policeman, who was dressed in white with a strange helmet, looked him up and down.

Rob turned and walked the way he had come and became soaked with perspiration. He could not find Central Station; there was a huge store which had a variety of (humanoid) robots in its tinted blue windows. Rob walked around for ages trying to find Central Station and then something bizarre happened; as Rob reached what would be Lewis’s Corner (where Ranelagh Street meets Renshaw Street) he heard his eardrums pop and found himself on Renshaw Street in what seemed to have been the aftermath of an air-raid in World War Two. He saw ruined buildings, fires, and rubble across the road, but then bizarrely, he heard a man’s voice shouting him. It was a friend who was still in 1987 and he was standing outside of what was then the Newington pub (now The Blarney Stone), and Rob walked over to his friend, an electrician named Alec, and said, ‘Have you seen this?’ and Rob turned to point at the World War Two scene but it had gone. Alec had not seen it. He told Alec what had happened, and Alec could see Rob’s clothes were soaked with sweat.

The two men went into the pub and Rob had to go to the toilet and swill his face and remove his denim jacket because it was soaked. Alec listened to Rob, who thought he had lost his mind and assured him that he must have been in some type of ‘timewarp’. Rob was so shook up by the incident he called his boss at work and said he wouldn’t be coming in (he worked nights at his job) and told his employer everything that had happened.

If this incident did happen as Rob describes it, then it may have been a glimpse of a future that has been reported to me before – a tropical Liverpool caused by climate change. I’m still researching the story.

Tom Slemen on Twitter, June 21st, 2023:

On this date in 2003, Sue, a woman in Belle Vale told her daughter Lucy that she had just seen a stranger - a woman - in the back garden, walking away from the end of the garden, and when she went outside she had found what looked like vintage and "antwacky-looking" dresses, candy striped pillow cases and bed-sheets and knickers on the washing line. Sue told Lucy to leave the clothes there and to see if the person came back for them.

On the following day around 1pm, the same stranger was seen in the back garden and this time the daughter Lucy saw the unknown woman walking away from the washing line, and she said, 'Excuse me, love - why are you putting your stuff on our washing line?' and the woman returned a perplexed look and said, 'That's my washing line.'
Sue, Lucy's mum, came out and said, 'No, that's our washing line, and take all those daggy clothes with you, you cheeky get.'
'Look, there's my house, and this is my back garden,' the woman said, raising her voice and pointing to a lovely home beyond the fence - a house that had not been there before. Sue noticed the woman had the Farrah Fawcett feathered hairstyle - a hairstyle that dated back to the Seventies, and as Lucy was baffled by the appearance of the woman's house, Sue said to her daughter, 'Ooer, I think she might be a ghost, Luce.' Lucy asked her mum what had happened to the fence - for now one side of it had gone and there was a path running through the place where the fence had stood - a path that went to that unknown house. The woman said something unintelligible then turned and walked away. As soon as she walked up the path to her home the woman faded away and the fence reappeared. Lucy staggered backwards, standing on her mum's toe.
'Didn't I tell you she was a ghost?' Sue said to her stunned daughter. They looked at the washing line; the clothes had gone.

On the following day at sunset, the house reappeared again as Sue was in the back garden having a ciggie. She shouted to her daughter Lucy, who came running out to her mum. 'It's back,' Sue nodded at the phantom house, and this time a long-haired man walked from it and headed for Sue and Lucy, and mother daughter swore and tried to decide if they were staying put or going in the house and locking the door. They stood their ground. The man stopped about 20 feet away and said, 'You must be wondering what's going on. My name is Maurice...' And he vanished in mid-sentence.

Mother and daughter went into their kitchen and closed the door and both had a beer out the fridge and went through a pack of 20 Lambert & Butler. They never saw "Maurice" or the unidentified woman again and no more vintage clothes appeared on the washing line. The dated couple had appeared to belong to the 1970s, and Sue was later told that a house had stood where she had seen the phantom residence, but it had been demolished to make way for a road - a road that was ironically never built.