Voice Transmissions With The Deceased
by Friedrich Juergenson

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131 CHAPTER 27

The hope for “wise space aliens” proves illusory - The “Old Jew” - Functioning of the “central radar station” - Hitler’s characteristic voice - Two of my childhood friends check in

Let us now turn our attention to the communications of the dead, to their own characteristic way of expressing themselves as well as to the humor that shines spontaneously through their communications.

As I mentioned previously, the name Maelarhoedjen came through very frequently. It seems strange but this identification of a Stockholm suburb seemed to be used by communicators on the other side simultaneously as a key and/or as a code word. I suppose that this key word had an important function at the beginning when I had not adequately mastered the technique of radio recordings, because when, for instance in the middle of an English BBC broadcast the name Maelarhoedjen was pronounced, my attention was triggered immediately and I turned on the tape recorder that was already connected to the outlet. (At that time, in the spring of 1960, I had not yet given up hope completely that I might be able to get in touch with some space aliens. (Note: the author calls them ‘planetarians’)

However this hope was quickly deluded. Reality was sober and devoid of romantic notions. This too was the reason why I hesitated before reaching the decision to write this book.

Then one day I received a short communication over the frequency of the Warsaw radio station, right after the conclusion of Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude. Two male voices that I recognized were speaking immediately. This time too, they spoke both English and German.

132 “What is this death – Friedrich? – We know it!” began the German speaker and added a few words that could not be understood.

“No matter how you imagine him.” the English speaker started, “with suppositions, secretiveness, condolences, unreasonable repetitions…” the rest of his words were swallowed up by the din of static. After a little while the German speaker started again and said quickly and insistently: “Don’t you have a pen - what do you think? Tips will be coming for Freddie’s pen. Conviction is very easy. Where are we staying, Freddie?”

He added a few personal remarks and then the transmission ceased.

Without the help of a tape recorder these whispered communications could not be understood at all, they took place inside the original transmission not only much too fast, but they had to be amplified and then listened to again several times. This camouflaged appearance on radio transmissions (at the beginning of our contacts) will also have been difficult for the discarnate communicators, in any case they too would have had to undergo a certain training to develop into good “copyists” or “popsers”.

I noticed for instance the voice of an older man whose hearty

intonation was reminiscent of the Viennese comedian Hans Moser and whom I called “the old Jew.” This speaker evidently liked to make snide side comments using a bizarre mixture of languages consisting of Yiddish, German, English, Italian and Swedish. Besides, he had a dry and somewhat profane sense of humor, if not directly obscene, certainly not entirely appropriate in mixed company.

I first discovered the ‘old Jew’ during a transmission when I misunderstood Lena’s signal and subsequently received a beeping sound. 133 On that occasion some sleeping dead were awakened in the following manner: First one heard a ringing switch-on sound and then an energetic male voice called out: “Song of the Dead!” “Service for the Dead!”

Two times a powerful choral ensemble cut in that I had unintentionally turned on and off several times. “Your radio interferes!” a male voice shouted.

I had not reacted previously because I thought that I was listening to a normal radio program until I heard that strong signal.

The “old Jew” was directly in front of the microphone or (communication device). Somehow the system wasn’t working satisfactorily because his voice cracked several times and words slipped out of his mouth evidently violating the rules, but he succeeded each time in getting on top of the situation by quickly imitating a Polish or Yiddish announcer.

“Contact with little Hitler…” slipped out once again at a high decibel level. Hurriedly he added, “copyright”, was silent for a moment, and then mumbled to himself in an annoyed mix of languages: “With this radar the devil won’t dine.”

Whatever this curious mixture of German, Italian and Swedish meant, he hummed it with the solemnity of a Sabbath service.

One evening I got a very lively choir performance that seemed to be an original transmission emanating from Cairo, but was actually sung in a mixture of German, Swedish and Italian.

The choir sang about a routine drive across Hitler, Ataku and Maelarhoedjen. The “old Jew” was inserting jokes as usual in his dry manner. During a short pause he turned to Lena and said among other comments: “Lena ni most 134 starten!” (Lena, you have to start!) Whereupon the choir continued in the same rhythm addressing Lena: “ Now there – you have the time radar. And you have your task besides, only Friedel can’t do anything …he is sitting in the dark, poor Friedel…”

In conclusion the “old Jew” spoke clearly and with emphasis: “These (are) the dead, you have to understand – in the North – Skol.”

Most communications from the dead arrived in this humorous pictorial language. Evidently the dead had overcome the boring monotony of our earthly rationalism; they spoke spontaneously, symbolically and cheerfully.

It was evidently Lena’s task to assist me who was sitting in the dark and to give me signs or signals because she was in charge of the time radar, which is to say, the link that enables a connection between the fourth dimension and our own earthbound time.

Towards the end of May I received a transmission that even today, years after, I consider one of the most impressive and interesting. Its contents has such significance that even today I do not dare to publish the entire text before I have succeeded to accurately transcribe the entire transmission with the help of certain filters and amplifiers. After some German researchers will have helped me to remove the interference completely I will be ready to publish the text in the form of a brochure with the addition of several very interesting transmissions that have not been analyzed completely to date. However, I will wait until all of the reception noises will have been eliminated and we have the exact clear text.

135 This transmission can be considered a historic document because it was Adolf Hitler speaking in his characteristic voice.

New transmissions arrived almost daily in those days and with it grew the number of my invisible friends. Dead friends of my youth, relatives, numerous acquaintances some of whom I had completely forgotten contacted me, called out their names or waited anxiously whether I would recognize them by their voice. However not all of them introduced themselves by name.

There were also voices that wanted to remain anonymous, others hid behind code names. In such cases we were generally dealing with publicly known personalities who preferred for understandable reasons to bide their time and act with caution.

Two friends from my young days, Burchard W. and Herbort B., were the first who revealed themselves to me, and whose voices and inflects were familiar to me.

The last time I had seen Burchard W. was in 1930. It was a very strange encounter that took place in a Berlin subway. At that time we had not met with one another for twelve years. Burchard had been studying for years at the Berlin Technical University and I had just arrived in Berlin to continue my voice training. When I suddenly saw my friend sitting in front of me in the metro compartment I was overcome by a kind of paralyzing embarrassment. I looked at him wordlessly and couldn’t make up my mind whether I should embrace him or remain seated without speaking. I noticed that Burchard stole glances at me, but then gently shook his head with a melancholic smile flitting across his face. His whole being seemed to say: No, no, this cannot be Friedel!

Neither of us said a word. At the next station Burchard left the train and disappeared among the crowd. 136 I never saw him again because he died after half a year of a lung disease. I never forgave myself for my stupid embarrassment.

My second childhood friend, Herbort B. had already left Odessa secretly in 1918 and had fled to Romania with his family. Common interests and a deep friendship linked me with Herbort as with Burchard. But both friends differed markedly from one another in their character. Herbort was a brooder and a searcher in his passage through life; he was mild and conciliatory and carried a burning desire to get to the bottom of things. Burchard on the other hand was more practical. He was an easy learner in school and he judged things and events clearly and objectively. He had developed a dry and highly individual humor behind which hid a very sensitive and kind nature.

Towards the end of the Second World War, Herbort was drafted into the German army as an interpreter. He disappeared in Russia; perhaps he died in a prisoner of war camp.

His younger brother Waldi who was also a good friend, died of typhus as a Russian prisoner of war, reported in much later. I soon noticed that Herbort played a leading role in the hereafter. He often was engaged in waking the dead and his communications were generally characterized by certain serenity and seriousness. It was he who got into contact with me already in the fall of 1959. In several recordings Herbort’s first and family name came through very clearly. On the other hand, Burchard only used his first name a couple of times. Burchard liked to make jokes and he incidentally maintained his somewhat youthful diction, which consisted in his 137 connecting of long sentences in a galloping, syncopated rhythm and then rattling them off rapidly with a change in emphasis.

Burchard seems not to have forgotten our curious encounter in the metro because he asked one time quite suddenly with a hidden grin something that sounded like: “Did you recognize your Burchard again?” Since both of us grew up in Russia we spoke both German and Russian. Now, however, Burchard had acquired the habit of inserting Swedish words and sentences, he did this with a faultless pronunciation.

At that time I was also in contacts with Count Ciano, the brother-in-law of Mussolini. He introduced himself immediately. He spoke in a comfortable and cultivated voice. He said first of all that he was familiar with the new method that used radio. He called this link “porta nova”. Ciano spoke mainly Italian but also mixed in a few English, Russian and Spanish words. Like a typical Italian he found it difficult to pronounce the letter “H” at the beginning of a word if it was followed by a vowel. Thus for instance he used to say “’itler” or “’immler” when he spoke of Hitler or Himmler.

Otherwise Ciano seemed quite popular among the dead. His name was mentioned fairly frequently and wherever he appeared there prevailed a cheerful, friendly atmosphere. Most of the dead addressed each other in a familiar way using first or family names; titles were never employed.

Lena surprises me one day by coming through suddenly with the name of the “old Jew”. I will call him “Montedoro” here. In reality, Montedoro was one of the most talented and biggest financial geniuses in Europe whose name even today calls forth admiration and respect. 138 He too was familiar with numerous languages. His French was perfect and he spoke Polish like a Pole. Despite his great age his mind seemed filled with a kind of youthful mischief.

A Swedish industrialist, whom I shall call Cantander, greeted me one day in a sincere and friendly manner. Cantander, whom I knew fairly well during his lifetime, surprised me with a quality that I had not suspected in him. He sang amusing songs with an excellent rhythm and a bubbling humor and also took part in small comedy sketches. His appearance was of special significance to me because his sparkling temperament and his excellent diction gave his recordings a particular clarity. Besides, Cantander possessed a special, easily recognizable timbre that resonated unmistakably through the entire transmission.