The Strange Coincidences Archive

My initials are CM. Which is the 3rd and 13th letters of the alphabet. My birth is 3/13. Weird. The number 13 pops up in my life more times than I can count.

yesterday i went my grandmother at the cemetry at the grave of an uncle of mine!she started to tell me a story about him!she said that before he died he left a note on wich was written “Bogdan”.That’s the name of my boyfriend and it means a present from God!it’;s so strange because our relationship is dificult now and i think is going to end!but i don’t want to!

Hi folks

Recently I was thinking about Glencoe in the Scottish Highlands and then looked on the web to see if there is a Glencoe in America. Well there is one in Illinois…......so a day or so later I was talking with my friends husband who just mentioned out of the blue that he used to work in engineering in the USA near Glencoe Il!! To top that, at the moment I am reading “The Time Travellers Wife” and got to the page where Henry (main character) is invited to go to Glencoe!!!

I know it doesn’t mean much, but it amuses me!!

Myself, my wife and 2 very young children were on a holiday journey from our home in Stockport to Pwelli in Wales, our car broke down going over the hill out of Bets-y-Coed.
As we reached the top of the hill we stalled and tried to flag down passing cars for help.
Eventually after about 2 dozen cars had passed, a car did finally stop to offer assistance. A mid-20`s man and his wife came over to us. They asked if we were in the AA or Rac so we could get help..we told them we were members of the RAC. They said tha the nearest phone would be in the village at the bottom of the hill near the slate mines of Blennau Ffestiniog. Without further ado, they offered to drive me down to the phone to ring the RAC and then offered to drive me back up the hill to my family.
As I was on the phone, I had to shout my details quite loud as it was a very bad line eventually the RAC took my details and I reported the news back the to the couple who had driven me down to the village. The lady who had driven me down then approached me and asked if she heard my name correctly and that it was Dowling, I said yes that was right. It turned out that her maiden name was also Dowling. Not only that but her relatives were from the smae part of Ireland that my parents had come from…..and that we were in fact related in some way.
This couple had, at the last minute, taken a day off work from their home in Durham, to visit the slate mines in Wales, and that was their reason for being on that road at the same time as ourselves.
By chance they had seen that we were trying to flag some cars down for help and that they had seen that nobody was coming to our aid, so they decided to stop to offer help.
The chances of this happening must be so remote. I just thought that it was weird as though some unknown force had derived such a rescue.

my father and i were driving through the rocky mountains last spring and unfortunatly there isnt any radio reception for hours. so because i have to have music playing at all times, i was rapidly going through every cd in my posession. every once in awhile i would switch back to the radio to see if i could get anything but would always fail adn just get static. on one of my older cds that i put in as a last resort, the song “yeah” by usher was playing. this particular cd was pretty scratched too and it kept skipping, my dad got fed up and told me to just turn it off. in a last ditch effort to salvage the music, i switched to the radio. sure enough it immediately found a station, and it just happened to be playing the exact same song…

I am a 29 years old Canadian guy who decided to go volunteer through Europe last summer, and the second place i worked in was Namur, Belgium. With nothing else than a guy’s name on my back-pack, i went with difficulty to the center of the town and reached for the manager of the famous art festival of the place. After briefing me on my job for the weekend, he gave me a necklace ID wich would ensure my way through the secured entrance of the town. I quickly walked toward a bridge and followed a path on the Meuse’s north shore to reach my youth hostel, 2 km away from the town.

Once i unpacked my world in the bedroom, the ID pass was nowhere to be found. The empty necklace was still on me, but the plastic must have slipped while i walked my way there. Since i had to go back in town to work, i left the YH and took the same path, in case i could find the ID pass on the ground. I felt like i would have to convince someone to let me in, because the wind was blowing so strong toward the river, impossible for a little peace of plastic to stay motionless. But you know, sometimes when you are alone with god, which was my case at that moment, you feel like you can ask anything. I just didn’t want to argue that i lost my ID, i was nervous and asked him for a little help. Guess the next part. On a vertical piece of concrete used by the boats to stay ashore, 12 feet above the water, my ID pass was hanging there only because the wind was blewing strong enough to keep it safe from a cruel drowning.

I stretched my arm, took it and replaced it on the same necklace. At that point, i knew i couldn’t lose it anymore.

Simple slice of life.

There was a partial eclipse of the sun one summer’s evening back in the early 1980’s and myself and a friend had decided to walk around the block where we lived while we watched the eclipse. We started discussing an urban myth that was doing the rounds at the time about a headless nun in the trees at the back of the school playground. As we walked down the hill of the next street, we saw a mini coming towards us. Then we literally froze to the spot. A nun was driving the mini. It was the only time I ever saw a nun in the neighbourhood and it happened on the evening of the partial eclipse, just as my friend and I were discussing an urban myth about a headless nun.

My father wrote down the digits of a telephone number he had been given, minus the area code. Later that day, he went to my grandfather’s house to read the electricity meter. He wrote the meter reading down on a scrap of paper. When he came home, he went to his desk to telephone the electricity board. He set the scrap of paper on the desk in front of him. Across from the telephone was the telephone number he had written down earlier. My father couldn’t believe it. The six digits of the meter reading and the six digits of the telephone number were exactly the same!

My mother took a telephone call one evening from a lady who wanted to offer her condolences to the recent widow of a headmaster. The lady explained that the headmaster had shared the same surname as ourselves and as there weren’t many people with that particular surname in the telephone directory, she had decided to phone us on the off chance that we might be relatives. We weren’t… However, my mother was able to help the lady. You see, my mother had recently been talking to a new neighbour and when the neighbour heard our surname, she acknowledged that although uncommon, it happened to be the surname of the headmaster of her son’s school when she used to live in the next county. Apparently the neighbour had known the headmaster and so my mother gave the lady my neighbour’s details.

I went to enrole at the public library in the city where I work because it is actually more convenient for me to borrow from that library than the library in my home town. The librarian asked me for my address, so that she could write it on my library tickets. When she heard where I lived, she looked surprised. She explained that she had lived in the very same street many years ago. But the enrolement turned out to be a double coincidence for me because as I was looking around the library, I bumped into an old lecturer of mine that I hadn’t seen since I left university. I’ve never met anyone I knew at the library since and I’ve been going for six years. And strangely enough, I never did see the librarian again either.