The San Ramon Street Witch

By Charles B. Coker

The night sky dims on a fall early winter night, and you find yourself directly in a nightmare come true. The realization of an unbelievable reality will soon be handed to you.

Have you ever wondered about the area you live in, if it's safe to come outside?

That's exactly the way I felt living in Central California. The fact of the matter is Fresno County is extremely, ridiculously haunted to put it lightly. To witness a perfectly looking innocent old lady to go and transform herself into a mystical monster demon will never be forgotten. This creature disguised and approached and shortly revealed herself as a spirit woman we define as a witch, besides her look of death, her frightening vicious screen, letter from the dead, and happening on the three hundredth anniversary of Salem. Think how I felt as I saw her transform and put on a paranormal circus act. There's a dimension few have witnessed, and I am one. There's a spirit world of power and magic and characters that are presumably believed to be fiction. If you're a skeptic about these type of stories, then after you're done with my book, you're a believer. The unimaginable reality of a human woman spirit of great threating danger reveals herself as real. Read my true haunting story, and take yourself into my eyes as she becomes an unbelievable spirit of reality and instant danger.

The Mouth Man trolls and UFOs don't even have any comparable scenario of intimate danger as the one I saw. Karma is reality; witches are real.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781683481263

Book preview

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Charles B. Coker

witch

The

San Ramon

Street

Copyright © 2016 Charles B. Coker

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2016

ISBN 978-1-68348-125-6 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-68348-126-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

About the Author

What I am about to truthfully tell you really happened and is very real. It is about an encounter with a woman spirit that was not nice, and it definitely was not a misconception of reality. This female entity appeared from the clear fall night sky in 1992 and took my friend’s soul forever.

What I and my good friend witnessed on that mysterious fall night could only be described as horrendous for a lady at our first sight of her—to totally be mistaken as someone’s lost or mentally ill grandmother to go and transform into a person of unbelief has simply defined explanation and words themselves.

She approached undetected and seemed to move with sheer silence and asked me if I knew where the intersection of Shaw and Valentine Streets was at, at our location of position. She walked away; it seemed innocently. But at our last visible sight, she simultaneously turned around, cocked her head straight back like a fake puppet, and this thing screamed so viciously that you had no choice but to instantly be in a panic shock of disbelief.

Our true encounter with a woman witch of a higher form of spiritual powers happened on the exact three hundredth anniversary of the famous witch hunt of 1692, which acquired in Salem, Massachusetts.

You might want to be a little nicer to your grandmother, mother, sister, auntie, or girlfriend after hearing my true story of a woman we will call karma or a witch.

Chapter 1

Reality Can Scare

the Toughest Listen

Let me take you inside the most frightening, outrageous, and almost unbelievable true ghost stories you’ve ever heard. It’s all the truth, and in my particular witch chapter, I am really confident in addressing the startling scenario of moments that happened to me and my friend more than twenty years ago. You have to realize and imagine that since I was the one in this perplexing scenario involving a woman of great spiritual powers, there’s nothing about that night that I will never ever forget.

The outrageous and (it almost seems) impossible powers that the human woman spirit confines could really be endless. This thing I saw could actually be mistaken as a live fiction movie set, but no, it was a real. After witnessing what I saw, you would never ever believe that this type of woman being is for real, unless you’re me, and I know it’s real, and I know how quick and unexpected something like this can unfold without a moment’s notice.

Without a doubt, the unlikeliness of you personally seeing her is rare, and to actually talk to her, even rarer. My dramatic story might be mistaken or perceived as a hallucination or some other type of lie or drug-induced psychosis, but let me assure you, it’s not.

For a human to witness this dramatic dimension is far and few in between. I know 100 percent that when this story is made into a horror film, the first released previews that one might witness of this film will literally set you in a panic state of fear and spine-chilling shock.

I am a changed man after 1992. The emotions and drama that are tied to this story have been difficult for me to live with all these years. I am jumping through twenty-plus years of time to current, which is August 26, 2015, and I will introduce and describe different things and experiences. Then I will drop back to 1991 and 1992 to the main story. Mostly, all the stories, before the main story, has all been experienced by me and my friends after 1992. A lot of people will relate to my stories or myths or paranormal encounters of beings we have yet to truly understand.

The human mind can’t imagine or make up all these thousands of so-called fiction movies without some percent of them being unbelievably real. It all is derived from somewhere; the human mind can’t imagine everything. A lot of it, meaning stories, are some truth, some myth, and a lot of eyewitnesses’ accounts of past generation story hand-me-downs.

I feel like I have some kind of psychic physical powers with the living and the dead. I believe that spirits interact with me to let me know about dangerous and upcoming situations that involve friends or family. This can probably be observed by anyone who pays attention to their surroundings and watch out for warning signs. It could be a relative of a person’s spirit merely coming down to gather their relative’s soul, but keep your eyes peeled for signs, people. There are clues right before a tragic death. Some lives, of course, can’t be saved, or your friend or family member might already have died before you realize that the little clues you had noticed were actually giving you a heads-up of an incoming death. Some clues are more obvious than others, and some tragic deaths have no sudden clues at all. I feel fortunate to be blessed with this ability to be approached by spirits to be a message relayed of different things of usually tragic future events. I don’t like having this psychical ability, but it’s in me, and I can’t change it. It’s kind of scary, and then again, it’s kind of interesting and exciting.

Chapter 2

Oleta Mott, How I Got to California

Oleta Mott was my wonderful grandmother. She came to California back in the ’fifties after several Oklahomans did during the mighty Dust Bowl era of the Midwest. She had seven children—my mother first, Sharon Mott, then Johnny Mott, then Susie Mott, Leticia Mott, Jimmy Mott, Ricky Mott, and Paula Tristan, who is a Mott. Well, my grandmother was born in Hana, Oklahoma. I believe in the 1920 or so, and she had my mother in 1944, and the rest of the kids, she had over a period of the next twenty or twenty-five years.

My grandfather’s name was Ruben Mott. My grandmother, Oleta, came out to California without Ruben, but he shortly followed and was held up in a barn with a gun, I guess to try and get Oleta, but the constable came out and disarmed him.

My grandmother’s parents were wonderful people. My mother, Sharon, told me stories when she was a resident in Oklahoma, of how her grandmother and grandfather lived. They had real feathered beds that they would beat with a broom every morning, I guess to keep them fluffed up. Also my mother’s grandparents had a real icebox that apparently you had to put a piece of real ice in. Also, Grandpa and Grandmother would make their own soap and turn their own butter, wow, what a cool time to have witnessed…Anyhow, I guess Grandfather Hamilton shot at a man because he rode his hoarse too fast by the house, what a trip. I guess that was a no-no apparently back then in those times, I would have loved to have been there for all those old-time events.

Well, my grandmother, Oleta, was old school, to say the least. She was not afraid to discipline a sibling or tell you how she felt. I love that woman so much, miss her greatly. Anyhow, she would make her and her family members homemade clothes and old-fashioned quilts. She loved going with her best friend, Helen Carson, to yard sales. She liked watching Jeopardy and Hawaii Five-O. Oleta was a Christmas girl, who had everyone’s presents bought in January ready for December already. She wasn’t afraid to give one of her siblings a good old-fashioned cuisine, but it was actually her way of a reality check and a roundabout way of showing her love. She was the best of the best cook in the northern USA. She loved her 1975 El Camino. I