Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 13, 9/13 by Estelle Roberts

Later, assisted by Red Cloud at a direct-voice séance, the boy spoke through the trumpet, and gave conclusive evidence of his existence in the spirit world by referring to documents he had left on earth and his knowledge of the manner in which his parents were dealing with them.

Our war-time direct-voice séances were significant for the youthfulness of the majority of the voices we heard coming through the trumpet. Only on a few occasions could the parents or friends positively identify a voice from its individual quality, but nearly always the characteristic accent was discernible.

The soft cultured tones of Stephen Cohen, for instance, were quite distinct. Stephen passed over in a hospital in India and, when speaking to his mother, he regretted that it should have been a “bug” that ended his span on earth. “Not a very soldierly way of dying,” he concluded, rather ruefully.

The Irish brogue of Michael Hughes was unmistakable when he jokingly remonstrated with his mother for persisting in brushing his hair long after he was capable of doing it for himself. And then there was the North-Country accent of Stanley Burgess, a young soldier of twenty-three who had been reported missing in 1941. There was no particular fame or glamour attaching to Stanley but, like thousands of other brave men, he gave all he had in the service of his country.

The circumstances of his introduction to our circle were not unlike those of Bessy Manning some years before. It was December 1943, when Red Cloud said at a direct-voice sitting:

“I have here a young man whose parents and friends are not present. He wants to reach his mother. He seeks your assistance because she is not a rich woman and cannot travel the distance which separates her from this circle. Hold on!”
There was a momentary pause and then a voice was heard issuing from the trumpet.

“I am Stanley Burgess. I was a casualty in Crete. My mum cries and cries. She reads your paper and I hear her begging me, ‘Do try to get through.’ I have tried, but I cannot make contact with her. I want her to know that I am well and doing what I can to help my brother in the Navy.”

Maurice Barbanell, editor of the Spiritualist newspaper to which the spirit speaker had referred, interposed: “We will help you, but you must tell us where your mother lives.”

The reply came with difficulty. “The address is Grange Road, Rudheath, R U D H E A T H.” Here the message came to a stop while Stanley summoned help. Then it went on: “Northwich, Cheshire. Tell her not be sad. Tell her I will be happy if she is. Thank you all very much.”