Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 13, 3/13 by Estelle Roberts

At this juncture good-humored protests of impatience came from the trumpet as others clamored for possession. It was David White who triumphed. He had ended his earthly life at the age of twenty-two when the submarine Olympus was lost off Malta. He spoke first to his mother, giving her messages of love for members of his family. “Dad is with me,” he assured her. The father had passed on a few months after the son.

“Oh, it’s nice to talk!” David exclaimed with boyish enthusiasm. “Can you all hear me?” he demanded.
“Yes,” chorused the sitters.
“That’s grand! I hear we’ve got Lord Dowding with us tonight, and somebody else who has done no less for us, Hannen Swaffer. I’ve met a pal of yours here, Mr. Swaffer. He’s a journalist who has not been over very long.”

“A. B. Austin,” Red Cloud interposed. “He was killed in Italy.”
“He was a friend of mine, too,” Dowding said. “He was a war correspondent on my staff and a very fine officer.”
“He is a very fine officer,” Red Cloud corrected him gently. “Hold on! Here is someone else.”

A voice said: “My name is Jenkins. Are you there, Dad?” “Yes, I’m here.”
“Well, stop fretting about me, and don’t keep bothering the Air Ministry for details. They’ve told you all they know. It was nobody’s fault that our old crate fell to pieces in mid-air. When you have to use every plane that will fly, there are bound to be times when somebody has to go around gathering up the pieces.”

“I’ve got one of the pieces at home.”
“Yes, I know. A bit off the tail. Look, Dad, try to make mother understand that I’m not dead. Tell her there are thousands of us here and we’re all mother’s sons. I’m fine as long as she does not grieve for me.”

The next voice announced: “This is Arthur Heath. I went down in a destroyer off Crete. But I’m fine now. I’ve been to Palestine and seen my brother.”
“Does he believe in survival?” his mother asked.

“No. But he’ll learn. He thinks I died, but it would be hard to find a less ‘dead’ man.”
“You haven’t changed,” his mother said. “You’re just as you were; you look so well in your uniform,” “I still do look well in my uniform,” came the indignant reply.

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