In order to set the scene I need to properly explain what put me into the situation in which I experienced what I did. I am 34 and from England. When I was in my first year of high school here, so about 13/14 years old I became ill with stomach pains and sickness one day at school. It started off as a stomach bug, so I went home to rest. A few days went by, my condition got worse so my parents took me to an emergency doctor. He didn’t really check me properly and said I had a stomach bug and to go home and rest. I went home, and over the next few days, my condition went from bad to critical, vomiting black bile pretty much none stop with severe stomach pains. An emergency doctor was called to the house and he instructed me to get me to the hospital immediately. When I got to the hospital it turned out my appendix had become enflamed and burst, and if I wasn’t operated on immediately it was certain I would die in the next 10- 20 hours. They cut me open from the rib cage to the pelvic bone, I had septicemia, peritonitis, and gangrenous abscesses due to the appendix rupturing. They basically pulled everything out, cut away the badness, and sewed me back together again. I was induced into a coma for a week because of the severity of the surgery. A few weeks into recovery after a very brutal surgery, something was wrong. The little food I was attempting to eat wasn’t passing through me, with more throwing up and being unable to go to the toilet. (like something from a nightmare) after more investigation and scans they realized that where they had cut parts of my bowel away in order to clear away the badness when they had put me back together again a blockage had formed. – so they had to cut me all open AGAIN. It was after this surgery that my encounter happened. Now at this point, I was in a very bad way. I had not eaten solid foods successfully for a very long time, and being a young teen my weight alone went down to a critical level. I was being fed through a drip at this point and looked like one of the poor people from a concentration camp in ww2 it was that bad. So after the second surgery immediately before I woke up after the anesthetic, I experienced this vision like a very vivid dream.

I don’t like to call it a dream because I don’t think it was one but it is the best way to describe it. I can remember it step by step like it was yesterday. The scene was an old-fashioned-looking coach park. Like the type of coaches, you go sightseeing in on holiday but there was something very old about the place, there were multiple coaches there and like a central stand. There was a certain tone to everything like almost looking at it through a filter. I am with my grandfather for some reason. We both go to get onto a coach and there are these big chunky steps that feel like they take effort to get up. As I get onto the couch and look to the back of it there is a figure in a long, old-style tan-colored trench coat and tan-colored fedora-style hat, sitting on the back seat in the middle of the aisle. Immediately there is something malign and sinister about this character. All of a sudden it shoots towards us almost like fluidly floating but at speed. In that split second, I know it is coming for my grandfather, and I step in its path to stop it. It starts pushing me back towards the steps, and up close I notice it has a neckerchief covering its face with a particular pattern on it, and Windsor-style old-fashioned round glasses (like John Lennon used to wear) but I can’t properly see its face. When I get to the top of the steps in this tremendous struggle it pushes me back and I land on the floor with a thud that knocks the wind out of me, this thing lands on top of me. As it lands on me a bizarre malevolent type of dark fluid comes from the neckerchief area and floods into my mouth, like a wave hitting the back of my throat with a drowning sensation, and it tastes acrid like battery acid. I start to choke and I’m struggling to breathe and then boom – I wake up in the hospital bed in the high dependency unit.

This is how I woke up after I had survived my second operation! I’m sure you could imagine what effect this would have on someone’s life after that experience. For years I grew up absolutely convinced that there was some sort of real, malign evil out there ready to take us away when the time came, waiting for that moment because I had physically experienced what I had. I am absolutely convinced that moment was the flip of a coin and it landed on the side that meant I got to live another day and it wasn’t my time to be taken away. Finding out about The Hatman and other people experiencing the exact same shape of the figure makes the whole thing even more perplexing and completely unexplainable. But it helped me deal with my experience of it in a way, knowing I wasn’t alone. A few years ago I watched The Hatman documentary that is on amazon. I felt so strongly about what I had seen that I actually contacted the director to tell him my story, this is actually what I sent him. I did actually contact The Hatman project a long time ago, and they just contacted me which is why I have added this to the blog today. I have my own theories on what this entity may be, after living with this for over 20 years, but I don’t want to make this post any longer than it already is.