HUMAN DRAMAS AT A DIRECT
By Maurice Barbanell
“I want to talk to my wife. I am William Reane . . .”
“Don’t you know me,Nellie darling? It is Mowbray . . .”
“I want to speak to my husband. I am Mary Sharpe . . .”
“I want to talk to my husband, Florence Eyles speaking . . .”
“Father, it is Jack Waddington speaking .. .”
“I am Arthur Wilcox . . .”
THESE were the opening statements made by the spirit voices when they spoke at a Red Cloud Direct Voice circle. The medium was Estelle Roberts.
The evidence that came through proved that life goes on, and, where suitable instruments can be found, the “dead” return to speak to those whom theyknew here.
The seance began with Jackie, who generally is the first to speak after Red Cloud has announced his presence. He was followed by a voice which said, “I want to talk to my wife. I amWilliam Reane.”
“Darling, is that really you speaking?” he was asked.
“Listen,” the spirit voice replied. Do you remember we said that, if I could get back, I should tell you about the daisy chains. You filled my hands with daisies in the coffin.”
“Yes, I did,” confirmed the sitter. “Oh! how wonderful.”
“Thank Dorothy for all she has done for me,” asked the voice. “I am happy that you published my poems.”
“I am so glad you know about them,” exclaimed his wife.
Then the spirit voice of the husband gave her another piece of evidence. “Tell me about Chloe,” he said.
“Do you mean our dog?” asked the sitter, in amazement.
“Yes, of course,” was the reply.
“I want you to know,” the voice went on, “that I am quite happy. You said if I could only give you the symbol of the daisy chain.”
“I put daisies in his hands in his coffin,” volunteered the sitter. “How wonderful he should remember.”
The next communication was full of evidence. There was present in the séance room a woman whose son had returned at an earlier seance to thank Lady Segravefor some help she had given his mother. When he spoke this time, he gave his mother scores of proofs of his survival.Every time she referred to his death, he pulled her up. She corrected herself by saying, “I beg your pardon. I mean since you left me.”
Just before he went, she said, “Goodbye”but he insisted that it was only to be “Au revoir.”
“Nellie,” called the next voice. “Don’t you know me, darling? It is Mowbray. I have May here with me - my sister.”
“I know,” was the answer. “Give her my love.”
“It is wonderful to hear your voice again, after all these years,” the spirit voice continued.
Then he gave more evidence. “Do you remember we were only together ten days, and then - death?”
“Yes,” was the answer. “On our honeymoon.”
The voice of the spirit husband comforted her, but she assured him that she was “happier than I have been for years and years.”
“Do you know who else is here with me?” her “dead” husband asked “Wait a minute while I go out and let him speak to you. Don’t be unhappy, he added. “You have been my bride all your life.” The sound of kisses was heard coming through the trumpet.
“It has been simply wonderful to see you, darling,” the sitter told him.
“God bless you, my darling bride,” was his answer.
Then, as often happens, Red Cloud volunteered further evidence. Addressing the wife, he said, “He tells me he died of typhoid fever.”
“Yes, quite right,” was the sitter’s reply.
The next voice announced itself as “Father, father William.” He was very excited, and dropped the trumpet for a few minutes. There seemed to be some confusion.
Soon he spoke again. “I want my daughter. Just a moment, and I will make myself known. My wife’s name is Louisa Teresa. My brother’s name is Henry. My sister is Amelia. My other sister is Connie, and the other one is Emily.”
“Now,” he asked, “have I made myself clear’?”
“Yes, wonderfully clear,” was the answer.
“It is many years since I spoke to you,” the spirit voice went on. “I have not come for long, but I wanted make it clear who I was.”
The next spirit voice announced himelf as “Bert,” and asked for his wife.
He toldher of the spirits who were with him, giving their names as Gladys, my dear little girl,” and added that “Charlie and Tim are here with me.”
He asked for his love to be given to someone named Evie, and promised to comee back and talk again some day.
“I want to speak to my husband,” said the next spirit communicator. “I amMary Sharpe. I am
trying to speak to you, dear, but it is not easy.”
"Come and try,” said her husband. ‘I am trying. . . . You know why I wanted to speak so badly today.”
“I would like to hear you say why,” sitter said.
“Because it is my daughter’s birthday,” the reply came, clearly and distinctly.
“Yes, that is good,” acknowledged sitter.
“That is very clever of you to hit on that, because no one knew about it here. . . . I wanted you to bring something like that, that no one knew only ourselves.”
“Yes,” the spirit wife replied, “I told you who I am.”
“Yes, but I am going to be very strict with you. You told me to insist upon proof.”
So she gave him some more proofs.
“You know, dear, I was only twenty-eight when I died,” she said. “I died with appendicitis and peritonitis.”
“That is quite right.”
“Have I got to prove any more’?” asked the spirit voice.
“No,” was the reply. “I think you have given splendid proof.” In spite of that, she told him, “I have been here about twenty years.”
“Your daughter is a young woman now,”her husband said. “I suppose you are as proud of her as I am.”
“As proud as I am of you,” was the spirit’s reply. “I love you always. I tried hard, as I did not want you to go awaydisappointed.”
“I should have been disappointed,” husband told her, “but I should have known that there was no fault on your side.”
Then there came a voice which said, “I want to speak to my husband. I am Florence Eyles speaking.”
“Do you recognize me, Flo’?” she was asked.
“Of course I do,” came the reply. “That is my husband. . . Tell me, how is Tornmy?” she asked. Then she enquired after Pat, Gladys, Maurice, and said, “Those are my children.”
She gave her husband some advice about her daughters, and told him that she heard his prayers every night.
“Don’t you worry about me,” she insisted. “I am happy, as long as you are. I will stick it out if you do.”
Before the spirit wife left, she told her husband, “Don’t you worry about Pat. I will look after her and guide her.”
“That is what I ask you to do every night,” her husband said.
“I know you do,” was the reply. “It is no easy task to leave a man with two boys and two girls.”
The spirit voice that followed spoke to a clergyman, who was seated next to me.
“Father,” the spirit voice said. “It is Jack Waddington speaking.”
“It is wonderful to hear you, my boy.”
“Is it not wonderful to hear them all, Father’?” his son asked. “Give my love to mother....I was with you on your birthday, a few days ago. . . . I want you to know that I am helping you.”
The father was overjoyed at his son’s return. There was another surprise in store for him, for the spirit son told him, “I have a friend here who wishes to speak to you, Father. Just hold on a moment.”
Then we heard, “Most difficult, and yet I am making a big effort tonight.”
“Is that my friend’?” asked the clergyman.
The spirit then gave his name, “The Rev. Alexander White. I have come here tonight to make myself known to you, because I am inspiring you in your work for God and humanity.”
“Were you at Edinburgh’?” asked the clergyman.
“I was,” came the reply. “I have also been described to you by a medium.”
“Where was it you were described to me’?” he was asked.
“ Somewhere near the sea,” came the answer. “I want you to know that I am with you when you read my book, and I shall help you in all your work. Do not be afraid of truth.”
“I loved your writings and sermons,” the sitter volunteered.
“I am happy to have this great privilege of speaking to you,” the spirit answered. “God will watch over you and yours, if you will do your work for God and Man.”
Before he went, he pronounced his benediction, “May the great God keep you within his presence.”
“It is the great Alexander White,” the clergyman told me. “One of Scotland’s finest preachers.”
“I am Arthur Wilcox speaking,” announced the next spirit voice.
“Hullo, Lil,” he added, attracting the attention of the sitter to whom he was speaking. “Do you know who is here with me tonight’? . . . I have had a deuce of a job to keep him quiet - my brother Tom.”
He made several enquiries after friends, named George and Alice, and volunteered the information that “I was with you when you had the operation. I was quite close all the time.”
“I know,” he was told. “I could not have got through without that knowledge.”
He sent his love to his “two kiddies.”
“You know,” he added, “I had to be a soldier. I had to fight.. . .I thought I was doing the right thing.”
When he had gone we were told that it was the first time he had spoken, and that he had passed over eighteen years ago.
The spirit voice that followed confirmed that he had appeared on a spirit photograph which had been taken recently. He sent a message to someone named Margaret, whom he wanted to thank for allowing him to speak through her.
The next voice addressed a woman seated close to me, whom I learned was an old Spiritualist. He gave her a symbol and encouraged her in a new venture she had recently undertaken.
He was immediately followed by a spirit voice who announced that she was this woman’s sister-in-law. She cleared up some difficulties connected with a will, which she explained had troubled her.
“I want to speak to Bill -------, said the next spirit voice, asking for a friend of mine who had only recently become interested in Spiritualism. The voice gave its nickname as “Digger,” and was delighted because of her success in coming through.
“Go back and tell my daughters I have spoken,” she said. “Please be sure and tell Ethel I am not part of her subconscious mind. Tell Daisy I am very much alive, and want to get into contact with her.”
She indicated that she knew all that was happening around him, and even suggested that he might name a new boat after her.
She had tried to speak at a previous seance, but had failed to get through, and was very proud of her achievement on this occasion.
Used as I am to the high standard of evidence obtained in Red Cloud’s circle, I was astonished at the amount of proof which was received by those present.
Words are inadequate to describe the drama in some of the conversations, the humour, the pathos, in fact, the humanness of it all.
For nearly two hours, death had been defeated, and the voices of the living “dead” had spoken to their loved ones and friends.
As published By Zerdini on: http://www.spiritualistchatroom.forumotion.com