29/3/2*. – At tea time a message came through, strong but broken, F.R. (? FLOWING ROBES), then COUNCIL OF MARS. Next, in answer to the question as to who was the sender of this strange message, I AM ERIN; THEA. While this message was being spelled out I felt a sensation as of a strong electric current passing over my head at the end of each sentence. I had never felt this before, and it gives rise to the thought that possibly Mars could open up communication with this planet by means of electric or magnetic currents controlled by our spirit friends beyond.
Why not?
•
10/5/2*. – While Pearl was sitting at the table – she was doing up her hair for the night [*] – the letters T-R-A-V-E-R-S were spelled out.
I asked who that was, and the answer came C-R-O-Y-D-O-N- A-E-R-O¬-D-R-O-M-E.
Following this came T-O-N-I-G-H-T-S P-A-P-E-R.
So I asked should I look in the paper, and Y-E-S was spelled out.
I looked through the newspaper, but could not locate the name, so I asked was it in the cables.
N-O was the answer.
Again I searched the paper, and at last found the name Travers in an article entitled “Dropping to Death,” which described briefly how young Travers was killed at the Croydon Aerodrome, London, over a month before. None of us had seen the article, and neither Pearl nor I had looked at the paper previously.
Mother was in bed.
•
14/5/2*. – A long message was written through Pearl by Sahnaei this afternoon, explaining how those who are teachers (like himself) love to come and please and assist those who are helping us here on earth – meaning Dorothy and others on that sphere.
Oh, if people would only wake up to the knowledge of the wonderful and beautiful thing that is at their very doors and try to understand the glory of what is beyond by the proofs that are given them. And it seems so wonderful that a child like Pearl should be chosen as an instrument to prove the life beyond, and that this instrument should be put in my care.
She is thus a gift from God to me, and I would not exchange her for all the treasures of this world.
•
9/6/2***. – I was in bed to-day with a bad cold, and during the night was awakened by Dorothy’s voice singing Tennyson’s beautiful “Song of Sleep.” And – I could scarce believe my senses – there she stood beside my bed, smoothing my hair, and, oh, so gently adjusting the blankets around me. I could feel her dear hands on my head, and as I was about to speak to her as she finished the song, she drew slowly away and vanished before my eyes. I could see her hand as she withdrew it from my head; she was solid and real, just as any mortal would be. I will never forget the experience or the wonderful happiness it brought me. The song I had not heard for two years, but it is one which holds for me very tender memories.
•
18/8/2**. – Wee Betty told us to-night that the trees over there have beautifully coloured leaves and flowers, all in harmony, not gaudy; and that the birds were beautifully coloured too. Also that they had roads there which were smooth and even, and each a distinct colour. “There are no fences around the houses,” added Betty, “just very low hedges of beautiful shrubs which anyone could step over.”
•
26/9/2***. – As I lay in bed thinking, and was just about to blow out the light, I heard a child’s voice (which I at once recognised as Wee Betty’s) right close to my ear. It was low but distinct, and said “I’s here, Uncle Clive,’’ in a plaintive tone. I was delighted to hear the little soul’s voice so direct (and when I was alone, too), and said something in reply. She then became excited, and said “Oo, look, look; See, Ooo,” as though some extraordinary thing had come into her sight. Then I just glimpsed a form shaped like a large and elongated Rugby football, or a small Zeppelin, about six feet in length. It was dark brown with a faint beautiful blue band across the middle (lengthways). It remained visible only two or three seconds.
These experiences give me great comfort, and I set them down here to show what can be given to those of us who really believe and trust, not in the ‘‘easy’’ way but by facing everything for it. That is the only way to help those dear ones to come close to us.
•
27/9/2**. – Last night I dreamed, or seemed to dream, that I was looking out over a stormy sea, where a fierce blizzard was raging. It was a big bay I was looking across, and I could see the foam-topped waves driven by the wind.
On the left, about half a mile away, was a rocky island with steep cliffs. On the less steep side, and near the foot of the cliff, was a large ship at anchor. She was fitted up with a big wireless aerial, the masts being latticed and very high. I could distinctly see the snow on the face of the rocky island, which stood about 800 ft. out of the water; the snow was also being driven into the rigging and recesses of the vessel at anchor.
Out in the bay I could just discern two other vessels fighting their way through the blizzard. One was small, like a tug, and the other, a large one, was further away and scarcely visible through the driving snow.
On the summit of the island was a large wireless station, the masts of which were built of lattice work, just as those of the vessel beneath were. And I seemed to hear someone speaking and saying that they had established communication with all parts of the world.
•
3/11/2***. – We held a sitting in “The Blue Room” this afternoon, of course in full daylight. Mr G— here. Betty gave him a great time, being in her brightest mood. Once she said something about smoking injuring him, remarking that he “was trying to get through a hole in the fence;” meaning, I suppose, that he was not taking proper care of himself and might come over too soon.
Again, she said, when he referred to his body, “Oh, we don’t want that here, we want your spook.” …
•
[Extracts from The Blue Room: Being the Absorbing Story of the Development of Voice-to-Voice Communication in BROAD LIGHT with Souls who have Passed into THE GREAT BEYOND, by Clive Chapman & “G. A. W” (Auckland: Whitcombe and Tombs Ltd., 1927)].
Notes:
[*] Is “Uncle Clive” always in the room while Pearl gets ready for bed?
Jack Ross: Monkey Miss Her Now (2004)[2-5/9/2001]
[1117 words]
[Published in Monkey Miss Her Now (Auckland: Danger Publishing, 2004): 135-38.]
•
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.