22.   BJ, Barnes and CRISTO

My story has to a large extent turned into the mystical for one reason: names, numbers and data seemed to pop up in unexpected, co-incidental ways. The day before writing this, on 22/11/05, a thought came to me, involving a Christian friend's  business, located at No. 22. I had previously mentioned that this mechanic, who looks after my Suzuki Wagon R plus, runs a business Royal* Mechanic'. 

How interesting, because we first met this mechanic at the church we attended, the one with the name that minus an r reads - See love see rest

(Another interesting fact emerged just now - compare my Suzuki registration ...EW 228 with MATTHEW 11, 28 - Come to me and I will give you rest).  

Yesterday I noticed my mechanic's business address on the service label inside my car -  22 *DieSon Drive. More than that - his name, minus r equals to Why see a d? 

(*To protect privacy - the names are scrambled or substituted for a similar one, but not one letter is changed, only the r deducted from Why see a d). 

If I were so clever, as to invent a simple code, then build a complex real life story around it, including my mechanic's name and address, plus my model Suzuki, I'd be a genius. Don't they say - sometimes real life is stranger than fiction?   

On the date of writing the first draft of this chapter, Thursday 17/11/05, Australia is reveling in the euphoria of reaching the Football World Cup Finals in Germany in 2006. In the previous chapter you read that Australia’s football fans were holding their breath until Wednesday 16/11. The Australian National team had played three days earlier in Uruguay in Montevideo and lost 1:0. 

This meant that Australia needed to score 2 goals to win a place for the finals in Germany. A win would be historic; the first Australian team in a World Cup since 1974, which was also held in Germany.

The winning goal in Montevideo had been scored in the 35th minute. One commentator on radio at half time had said the goal came in the 38th minute. I made a point of emailing the program, to set the record straight. It wasn’t so much about accuracy; in the back of my mind I saw God working a little magic with our 3 & 5.

Some doubters will say: "But you have so many numbers. Had the goal been scored in the 12th minute, you would have linked it to 123, or in the 36th minute, you would have added a 9 and read it backwards? This is true. So this time God did some really special. 

The replay in Sydney on 16/11drew the largest viewing audience ever for the SBS TV Channel (so I was told). Australia was in football fever. Normally such widespread hype was only seen in important Rugby or Australian Rules Football events. 

Australia was glued to the TV that Wednesday evening. The match was a blueprint of the one three days earlier - the home team scored the only goal during regular time in the 35th minute. The extra 30 minutes of play did not produce a goal. 

In a nail-biting shoot-out Australia won the day. Goalkeeper Mark Schwarzer, in a super effort, saved two of the penalties. It was a victory Australia will cherish and talk about for many years to come. Even non-football fans flooded talkback shows the next morning, saying how they were excited and enjoyed watching the match, many for the first time.

Overnight I listened for a while to a radio broadcast from the BBC, London. Our qualifying match made it into the BBC's sports news. However, the reporter made a slight error, I think, saying that No. 15 John Aloisi, our Adelaide-born star player, was the hero that day, because he scored the final penalty. 

With all due respect, the other players who scored, one was another Adelaide boy No. 5 Tony Vidmar, deserve as much credit for the win. If there was a hero to receive special mention, it was goalkeeper Mark Schwarzer, who saved the very first penalty and, miraculously, got his left hand to the ball, saving the all-important fourth Uruguayan penalty. 

Super coach Guus Hiddink had considered changing the goalkeeper for the shoot-out. His decision to keep Schwarzer paid off.   

The inaccurate BBC report called for an email to point out, who the true hero was.

 

Email to BBC, London, copy ABC Newsradio, date 17/11/05 - 7.01 am.

Subject: Aussie Hero

Hi all,

It is debatable who is Australia's sporting hero this morning. No. 15 Aloisi did put the penalty in the box to seal the deal. But in my opinion the real hero is No. 1. He saved right at the start and then repeated the magic with a mighty important touch of his hand on Uruguay's fourth penalty.

The winning goal last evening came in the 35th minute. Your reporter said - after 1/2 hour. But what's 5 minutes amongst friends?

Kind regards from a happy football supporter in Australia.

Dieter R. Fischer

PS   There is a move under way in Australia to claim the word 'football' for our sport. We pride ourselves using our feet and head only (except the keeper, who is allowed to use his magic hand). Those who oppose our push for 'football' don't expect us to call it 'headball'? Probably not a bad alternative!

- - - - - - -

 

Adelaide 21/11/05 - United Striker Qu scored the winning  goal against New Zealand team, Auckland Knights, at Hindmarsh Stadium. 1:0 seemed a popular score around that time. 

The goal, a header which was right on target, came in the 38th minute, scored by number 19.  Hey, that's exactly ...

United's main sponsor has a real Da Ninci name - Fairmont Homes. 

- - - - - - - 

 

Early one morning, after watching a TV News report about a plane crash, an thought came to me. A 300-seat passenger jet had crashed and was evacuated in less than a minute - how incredible was that! It warranted some further investigation.

I did some googling and found more and more facts and data, which sounded implausible. Some of the names I came across sounded very much like Da Ninci. I was perplexed at the whole story. See what you think of the event. Would you agree with my doubts? 

On August 2nd 2005 an Air France Airbus was landing in heavy rain at Toronto's Pearson airport, after a flight from Paris. The huge plane overshot the runway and was reported to have crash landed in a ravine, where it burst into flames. 

Fortunately, there was a time laps of about one minute, in which, it was claimed, all 309 passengers and crew were able to disembark the plane. No one died and only 22 passengers were slightly injured.

A Fire Department spokesman on radio the next morning was saying something, which made me laugh out loud: "Our emergency crew was able to get all passengers off the plane, before it burst into flames. This action most likely saved their lives". Did the gentleman not realize how funny this sounded ? Or was I the only one of his worldwide audience, who saw the obvious?

Some reports of the airbus crash I found very vague, not like normal, professional journalism. It reminded me of a comment, made by a spokesman for the train operators, whose fast train had crashed at 150 km/h on a bend (later this was revised to about 100 km/h). The expert spokesman suspected that the speed the train was traveling at had something to do with it.

The train disaster (near Bundaberg, Queensland) also some good fortune amidst the debacle - none of the 129 passengers was badly injured. Most of them were back to normal within a few days. (Not bad after being in a train, which crashed at 100 km/h and derailed).  

Out of interest I did a little googling. On the Canadian website of CBC News was a special link to an FAQ section, concerning the airbus crash. I didn't take long to discover some strange comments. Judge for yourself, if you find the comments professional. 

 

“As the investigation got underway, Transport Canada officials said they couldn't rule out anything – and weather conditions were something they would look at very closely.”

My comment: If heavy rain and wind were to bring down big planes, there would be crashes every day!

A passenger remarked: "The winds were so strong, the trees were bent over almost parallel to the ground".

My comment: How thick were the tree trunks? Didn’t the trees uproot?

Comment by an airline pilot: “Incoming flights can land, if the pilot is confident that conditions will allow it”.

My comment: Miles away in the air, is the pilot in the best position to judge the weather conditions, if it's safe to land? 

Marc Antoine Plourde, a commercial airline pilot, put it this way:
We have our own life in our hands. And if I have a doubt as a captain about making an approach, [that] I am jeopardizing my own life, I will go around. I will abort the landing”.

My comment: What about the passengers Marc? A captain on a boat doesn’t think of himself first. His main concern is for the passengers under his care. But I like your name; it starts with PL, a nt I one - love it!     

Other names on this website, Don Enns, (nod for ns) Joseph D'Cruz (Jo on the cross), Real Levasseur (re LA), Mike Figiola (if I go LA) and Jean Lapierre (Re:I He L&P) fitted so well into my code and I love playing my little game. 

Is it possible that my code is flexible to the extend that I could use any name and re-shape it into Da Ninci? Did I create a monster, release a genie, which I can't get back into the bottle? 

On the surface playing with names sounds foolish. But I had not sat down one morning and decided to invent this code. It came to me, I believe in revelations from God, over a period of at least 4 years. Had I invented the code, how could I have arranged certain unchangeable facts, like my Christian name or my wife's maiden name etc. and weave it all into chapter after chapter in my autobiography? 

The only explanation that makes sense is - God is doing a work through this. I may sound like a fool, so be it.  

Above FAQ section about the Toronto plan crash, you must admit, also sounds a little foolish. Here are some more extracts:

“Some of the passengers had made their way to Highway 401 – less than a minute's walk from the site of the crash. Several had flagged down drivers and got lifts either back to the airport or out of the area. One of the pilots even wound up hitching a ride on the highway.

My comment: I have heard of car drivers taking flight after crashing, but never of pilots taking a car after crashing a flight. 

Just picture it: A crashed jet in a ditch beside the highway. An airline pilot, in full uniform, a thumb out, stands beside the road and tries to catch a ride. A motorist, feeling sorry stops. The pilot: “Excuse me, we had a little dilemma in landing …”

But there was more to discover, besides humour. You guessed it - numbers. The flight  was Air France, flight Number AF 358. Not only was this the date for the following day (Aug 3, 05), but if I added 22, the number of injured, it comes to 380, the name of the new airbus.

The departure time from Paris, so Mr. Google told me, was 1.15 pm. Scheduled arrival was 3.35pm. If we deduct one from the other, we come up with 220.

Let's play some more, here in chapter 22, just for fun. If we add the six hours time difference between Paris and Toronto, the total flying time for AF 358 was 8 hours 20 minutes. The figures 8 and 2 were the date of the crash, August 2nd.

I emailed my friends at the BBC Worldservice, just to register my surprise at the miraculous rescue. I just noticed the time, when I had sent the email, 10.55 am. This type of magic is never planned. It just happens, as it had done many times with 1550, it really is so!

 

Email to BBC, London 3/08/05

Subject: Only 22 slightly injured

Hi all,

Now that WAS a miracle. A jet crashes into a ravine (ABC News 891, Adelaide) after landing, burst into flames and only 22 are slightly injured. Somebody did a good job here.

Kind regards

Dieter R. Fischer

PS  335-115=220+600=8(h)20 = August 2 (Figures supplied by Olivier Dubos, my boss).  

 

Du is the German word for ‘you’. I picked the name from another online report about this crash. I knew enough French to recognize that the popular French name Dubois, minus the i, turns into 'you boss'.  

Much of what I saw, of course, are assumptions. I did not spend a great deal of time calculating these figures, they just came. I believe, God puts thoughts into my mind. I knew some of these thoughts could have come from my own imagination, but how do we know the difference? This is where I trusted God. I did not worry about being regarded as a fool. I did what I had to do. I stated my case, of which I'm certain. 

Of course there were doubts. When you hear everyday, almost, how foolish your thinking is, how could I not have had doubts? But from observations I made, there was a whole lot going on behind the scenes, which I could only guess and trust God that it is not from my own imagination. 

Here is a good example, what I believed could be a code, just for me:

 

 

I discovered these markings, painted on the kerbside of a major Adelaide road, after stopping at the nearby traffic lights. Can you see what I read into it? The last two digits look like 71. Turn the 7 anti-clockwise by 90 degrees to create a N. That fits perfectly.  

The reason I took special notice was - days earlier I had removed an election poster right there, on a pole opposite. As a practical joke I had hung a set of L&P plates in it's place. That's why I made a connection.

- - - - - - -

 

Three months before the day of writing I experienced an incident, where the number 315 was the icing on the cake in an unusual story. I did something foolish; foolish yes, but there was a deeper meaning, read on.

I had and appointment in the suburb of Glenside, showing our road safety game to an interested group of business people. It was a lovely, warm day, so I decided to combine business with pleasure. Why not take the bike for a ride through the Adelaide Hills? 

I parked my Suzuki Wagon R+ on Glynburn Road, close to the corner of Greenhill Road. By sheer fluke I noticed afterwards I had parked along from St. David’s church, right outside 510 Glynburn Rd. The organisation next door was called Saint Louis, which is helping old people stay in their own home. How funny, I thought, my wife (Isobel) Lois is a bit of a home sticker.  

When it comes to cycling I often misjudge my abilities. Greenhill Road rises fairly sharply after leaving the Eastern suburb of Burnside. After a few kilometers up the steady climb I was sweating, struggling up the hill at a slow pace. I noticed many drink containers, each worth five cents, which I could have collected for a bit of pocket money. (I have small pockets). But I was not in a position to carry empty cans or get off my bike every few minutes. 

However, when my eyes fell onto a small green ticket, wrapped in plastic, I stopped and picked it up. It was a parking ticket, a current one. How did it get there? I took it and later examined it a little closer. 

The date the ticket was issued was 5 days earlier on 11/8 – 11.15am, King William Street, Adelaide – ID Number 315! (That is amazing; now I see some more–11.15 minus 8 = 3.15!) 

- - - - - - -

I had seen high numbers on footballer's shirts, but never 51 or 81. I took the photo at a Volleyball tournament, about a week or so after I wrote about weighing 8 tomatoes at 1000 grams on the volley! 

(Secret: The boy on the far left is my son, but he doesn't know it - I mean, he doesn't know I am showing him off here. Doesn't he look like his dad?) 

- - - - - - - 

 

Leaving Greenhill Road before Summertown I cycled toward Norton Summit on a lovely winding road, surrounded by vegetable gardens and grapevines. The picturesque valley, called Piccadilly Valley, reminded me so much of the beautiful countryside in the Black Forrest in Southern Germany.

The parking ticket in my pocket occupied my mind. Would I by chance spot the registration number on the ticket? I pictured myself walking up to the owner, saying: “Here, you lost something?” 

Or should I hand it into the City Council Offices in Adelaide on my way home? It was a lovely day for cycling and thinking. Both go well together. 

Back on the flat at Magill I considered cycling along the main road, Glynburn Road. Instead I remembered the name of a road called Myall Road – my all, like the one in our neighbourhood. I preferred the quiet back streets.

Not thinking anything I noticed a mother, dressed in pink, pushing a pram. She had stopped and was leaning over her child to fix something, then walked on. A quick glance back, after I had passed, made me see a plastic bag, blowing in the wind. Instinctively, I turned around, chased it and picked it up. I felt a bit silly, when I noticed a taxi driver was watching me. Who cares?

The plastic bag was that of a chain of Supermarkets. It listed a few suburban branches and their phone numbers. One of them was nearby Erindale. Er in = he in D & L, my sensitive brain switched to another level. Why did I ever start playing this game? What did it all mean? 

A few minutes later I was back at my car. I loaded the bike into the back and started to drive in the direction of home. But now I did not just have a parking ticket with a special number bothering me, but also a plastic bag from a nearby Da Ninci suburb. 

Why not pay a visit to the Erindale Shopping Centre. I had a bill to pay, anyway, which the post office may be able to process. 

- - - - - - -

I saw my numbers even in the accounts arriving in our mailbox. 

$10,50 and a bill amounting to 963, if I were to do some creative accounting. How am I going to pay a balance of only 9 cents? 

- - - - - - -

 

Then a thought came to me. Perhaps there was a reason behind it all? It was a silly thought, but it would not leave me. I remembered a sermon by our Pastor a few Sundays earlier. He had preached about the character of Jesus. He said that Jesus was not one, who is watching us every minute of the day, ready to pull out the stick and punish us, if we do wrong. 

"If Jesus were a policeman, he would not be following us, just to give us a ticket, every time we break the road rules". This was true, I thought, but it was not going far enough.   

After the service, on the way out, I said to our Pastor: "If Jesus were a policeman, he would have to give a ticket to everyone, who breaks the road rules. That is a policeman's job. But he would deal with it differently. After issuing a ticket to an offender, he would say: "Give it back to me, I'll pay for it".

Now I knew what I had to do. The small Erindale Post Office had the facility to pay traffic infringements. I handed over my plastic card, the famous SETTES variety. It was all fixed in less than a minute. The 16 Dollar ticket was paid for on the 16th!  

As I exited the shopping centre I noticed a huge commercial vehicle entering the small parking lot. It looked very much out of place. I could not help it, but read the two large letters of the Company - BJ. 

On the way home in the suburb of Glynde I felt to take a left turn down Providence Ave. On my right, I knew I'd be passing Home Street. At the end I turned left into Barnes Road. I didn't know, why I was driving this way. I had experienced this leading before, as if on remote control. 

Right at the end, where Barnes Road terminates, I noticed a tow-truck. He was loading a sports car, which had just been in a crash. By the registration number I thought, I was meant to be calling here. In times like these I wondered, but did not question the inner guidance, which brought me here. 

I did not stop, but turned left into Marian Road. It was the same road, which I had crossed years earlier during of my first mystical experiences. It had started when I heard the name Marion on the radio, while at the same moment crossing over Marian Road. My remote control experiences have not stopped since. 

Neither have my observations of car registration plates. After I had turned into Marian Road, driving east, a car came the opposite way.  How could I have missed its registration plate CRISTO. BJ, Barnes and CRISTO made a rather potent combination; all in the space of 10 minutes.  

I found it understandable that people would communicate with car registration plates. Didn't God himself draw attention originally to car registration plates 228/301 and then showed us the link to Joel 2,28 and 3,1 in the German bible?  

A few hours before writing this a classic car registration number crossed my path. Or should I say, our path. I was walking my dog Becky on the oval on Nelson Road. The same one I had reported seeing a few young men practicing cricket at the end of the last chapter. (I had seen the letters NL in a different light). 

As Becky and I passed I read the registration of the red Ute - Victories NL - 1 God!  

Similarly, a week or so after uploading the 126 code (the entry ticket to the football match in Newcastle) the number 126 popped up as if planned, which I'm convinced it was. It was a rather remarkable afternoon. One of those, where one thing led to another. 

I was driving to Port Adelaide and popped a cassette tape into my Suzuki's player. The first tune, which played was 'Tulips of Amsterdam'. This reminded me of hearing on the radio that morning that the cruise liner 'Amsterdam' had berthed at Outer Harbour, visiting Adelaide. This made me decide to return home later via Outer Harbour, to have a quick glance at the giant Amsterdam. This detour in turn took me back home a different way, one I would not normally have travelled. 

To come to the point - driving home through Rosewater, I noticed at a roundabout that a large manhole cover had been lifted off, creating a dangerous hole on the pavement. Especially at night, it would be a real trap to fall into. After I saw it I turned back, doing a U-Turn in Alice Street, and fixed the problem in a few seconds.  

As I indicated to drive away I had to give way to two vehicles. The first one rego  ...010, the second one followed closely ... 026. How could this just happen per chance? There are people who follow my path, physically and spiritually. I thank God for them. HE is in control. HIS will, HIS ways will ultimately succeed, if we like it or not. 

- - - - - - -

The number 3150 drew my attention. What about the phrase: Ride away - no more to pay!?

Let's improve on that - For a ride of a lifetime you don't pay anything at all - HE paid it ALL ! 

- - - - - - -

 

God's son Jesus won the ultimate victory when HE, once and for all, paid your ticket. The penalty was not a mere $ 16. It was the death sentence. 

Why do you worry about paying for it again by doing good works, by punishing yourself to get rid of your guilt, by keeping endless rituals, by obeying useless rules and following complex religious regulations? 

Jesus died that we may be free!  

Jesus' victory is your victory. Don't let anything stop you from being the person God wants you to be - HIS child. 

 

"Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest"

Matthew 11, 28

 

Chapter 23

Index