My grandfather was a respected Buddhist monk in the southern region of the U.S. When he passed away, dozens upon dozens of monks from around the country came in to pay their respects and every non married male in my family became temporary monks for a week as a sign of respect. One evening, my uncle, a few of my cousins and myself were conversing with one of the "higher" ranked monks and he started talking to my uncle about his life. At first, we were all interested because he was telling my uncle information like the date when he was born, various locations of birthmarks on his body and so on, nothing too crazy, although it was hilarious for the rest of us.
But then the monk starts lecturing my uncle for the things he had been doing and my uncle didn't really think much of it at first. Then the monk begins to tell the story of how my uncle, in his early twenties stole a car, describes how he flipped it into a ditch and then how my uncle had to lie to his wife about how he got a concussion. My uncle says he had never told anyone this story before. The monk proceeds to do this to all of us. We had never met this particular monk before and it was amazing that he was not only nailing exact birth dates. I was probably 16 or 17 so I didn't have any crazy secrets like my uncle, but the monk did tell everyone exactly where I hid my money, which I thought at the time, was a spot no one would ever find.
Also, I don't believe in superstition/ghosts/voodoo etc.