Voice Transmissions With The Deceased
by Friedrich Juergenson
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179 CHAPTER 36
An organ-solo with radar confirmation – Voices of the living – The two spheres penetrate each other – Trotsky’s monologue – The apple aria – Children too sing and speak
As I already reported, I often missed the direct transmissions at the beginning of my recording activity. I discovered my carelessness only much later, in part on reviewing my old recordings, and also because I gradually got familiar with the voices of the dead and their ways of expressing themselves.
I want take this opportunity to tell you about a very interesting recording made in 1960 that I discovered only after a year, shortly before Hugo’s death. It was on a July afternoon, and I had recorded an organ solo, when suddenly Lena’s call reached me, and I received “radar confirmation”, that identified the correct wavelength. But since I believed the singing that followed was part of a radio broadcast, I simply didn’t give the text a second thought. I was busy searching around and finally left the wavelength with its song altogether.
But what really happened was the following: Lena called excitedly “…tag kontakt med aanden…” (make contact with the ghost), where upon a very beautiful, somewhat tremulous woman’s voice started to sing. I would like to recount the text in its original language. “Aus Maelarhoejden!…” she began with expression, “…ich komme tala om Hugo, aus Maelar…Hugo min vaen, min mother van dog hon?…hon dog I autolyckan…”
Translated it would be: “From Maelarhoedjen!…I’m coming to tell 180 Hugo, from Maelar…Hugo my friend…my mother how did she die?…She died in an automobile accident…”
I was startled, because this could only have been about Elsa P. from California, a friend of Hugo who had lost her mother in a car accident. Did Elsa die too? Since Hugo had not heard from her in a couple of years, he decided to write her in California. The answer came back quickly. Elsa was doing fine, she had not been able to write for various reasons. Nonetheless, Elsa sang on the tape with her very special unmistakable voice.
Up to the time of this writing (October 1963), I have been able to record eight voices of people still living on this earth, seven female voices and one of a boy. Except for the boy, all must have been asleep, yet in wakeful and conscious state, knowing that their message reached me and that they were being recorded by me on my tape.
Here it must be stated unconditionally that we know from experience that there exist states of consciousness separated from each other, such as the normal waking consciousness and the dream conscience. The memory bridge from one to the other conscience does not exist with most humans, since they lack the practice. An exception to that was a Russian psychic I knew who lived in Sweden. I had recorded her voice one day on tape, and after two years she wrote me telling me that during the “dream visit” she was on board the so-called “ghost ship”, and had conversations with the other occupants.
Also, that these conversations were recorded by me on tape in Moelnbo. The baffling thing about this was the circumstance that the woman appeared spontaneously on my recorder. She later came to visit me in Moelnbo, and wanted to find out on which calendar day this event took place. 181 She was of the opinion that it was during this year at the beginning of July. The good woman was stunned when I said and actually proved to her that the recording took place during the summer two years ago. It seems that “time” is not something fixed and permanent, but that it is something that is infinitely malleable and expandable.
Now, the above-mentioned boy was an exception, for his voice sounded as if he were half asleep. Of all these people, only one was seriously ill. But on tape her voice seemed totally awake and normal, despite a difficult brain operation that had left her half dead.
It was is a good friend of my wife, who underwent brain surgery to remove a tumor. She was lying in the hospital semiconscious, even the doctors had given up hope. One evening, quite late, my radio assistant Lena spoke to me on the radio and called out: “Nimm Kontakt mit Aanden!” (Make contact with the ghost!”), and finally “Now comes Kiki!” I knew right away that this nickname was that of my wife’s friend who was lying in the hospital. The recording was clear, without any interference. Suddenly the voice of her mortally ill friend Kiki appeared, and clearly called out distinctly and intensively, yes even happily: “Margit…Monika…Space…I sleep…”. My wife and I recognized the voice of Margit instantly and unmistakably.
In this connection, I want to mention yet another recording, which is both interesting and informative, that has to do with the same person, and gives such an unusual glimpse of the conditions in the border region between the living and the dead that one is tempted to ask oneself: where really is the border between here and there.
182 In this remarkable recording, the dead undertook an experiment to awaken that unconscious, deathly ill woman in the hospital and they eventually succeeded in having her come to her senses, and with that she left me a message on my tape. The woman spoke of her illness and seemed despite her destroyed brain to be completely clear and rational. Only one thing was curious, she was already using the polyglot language, even though she was Swedish. Later, I mean after her death, Margit often appeared on my tapes. Her mood was always upbeat, not to say exuberant.
I have to admit that even though I was getting used to the strangest things happening over the years, still these recordings always left the deepest impressions on me. I found them simply gripping, for they proved factually and objectively that we humans can visit the other side during our life without having to experience physical death.
I now want to tell you about a transmission that was broadcast during a so-called “routine flight” (of the spirit ship), when, if I’m not mistaken, Trotsky served as the pilot. I had the impression that the voices of those aboard were very melancholic; at any rate the company was made up of very sleepy or even sleeping people, who were not interested in taking part in a conversation. Towards the end Trotsky started a kind of monologue fully aware that his words were being recorded by me. By the way, he gave me a helpful hint, for he said suddenly very loud: “Listen Friedel…your car is falling apart”.
How right he was would prove itself soon during a thorough inspection of my vehicle. Our car was totally rusted through from the inside.
183 At one other point on the tape you could hear his ironic murmuring “Hear…Dante has messed up the faith of humanity…you can hear them coughing…” His voice sounded resigned and tired as he started to speak again: “Does humanity have mercy? We live Friedel, we work and build…” some unclear words followed, among them: “…the other side of the medal…the faith…”
Suddenly the tunes of the song “The International” were heard. It was a very old version, as I knew it from the beginning of the Russian revolution. The way it was played was curious, very dragging, it seemed like a funeral precession.
As the music subsided, a deep male voice said: “Divorce victim, my God, he is dead…hanged…” For a long while it was very quiet, then music started playing again. This piece was familiar to me as well, it was an old Russian military marching song that I had often heard as a child.
“To believe…to buy…” Trotsky suddenly started in a dejected voice, “paying…collecting…today we are driving (or moving)…is humanity aware of the suffering?…It is sour… very sour…”
As the macabre tunes of the funeral precession vanished into the distance, Trotsky said with emphasis: “Driving, sleeping…fear!” The last word he said was with a forced voice. Shortly thereafter you could hear him continue, his voice now sounded totally normal: “Farmer come with us…Kotzik!…are you sleeping?…” Here the transmission broke off, very suddenly actually, and I was unable to find the wavelength again. It was a very curious transmission that gave one lots to think about. Just the music alone! I had the impression as if Trotsky had conjured it up magically appeared from the dark depths of the past.
184 Did Trotsky’s talk intend to reveal his opinion that the entire Russian revolution along with Tsarist Russia was being carried to its grave? Or did he want to say that all dictators are digging their own grave? Perhaps he meant something totally different that I didn’t understand?
By the way, Trotsky appeared frequently among the dead. One time when I was listening to a female popser who was just about to change the text of an aria from the opera Lacme when suddenly a deep woman’s voice came on and said clearly in Swedish: “Last night we saw Trotsky on the water…”
With that the transmission was not ended yet, because at the same time as the singing began a lively conversation started between the dusky woman’s voice and a friend of mine. Both voices were speaking about me, about some sort of strength that I was supposed to have. Lena’s signals, the singing soprano and the conversation flowed together, and I could only by pick out some words. But then the popser succeeded to form a clear text : “Friedel hears only a quarter, and Lena is interfering…come on Maelarhoejden…”
The humorous ways of the deceased often helped me to overcome problems. It is my firm opinion that we who live in the flesh have still not fully understood the constructive power of genuine fresh humor, or at the least it is difficult for us to distinguish among the different types of humor.
One day I recorded a short but clear singing choir whose text reminded me of the poems by Wilhelm Busch (the German humorist). I had to think back immediately to the day in September when Carino, our poodle was romping playfully on the grass, and I discovered the sliced apple way up high in the tree.
185 The text that was sung stated literally: “Starting tomorrow, oh what hopes, how apples will be recognized outside that taste so well, Herbort as many years ago drives out of Maelarhoejden!”
The strange thing was that Annie Besant one time mentioned apples too. She did that during a very interesting and revealing message. Without any reference to the text she suddenly said: “One thinks, I take apples…” and right away continued with the lecture.
I’m not sure how I should understand these remarks. I only know that I somehow was reminded of this woman’s voice that said then when Carino was playing on the grass: “Snouth, are you blind…” and where a short time before the apple was cut through.
I had turned my special attention to the appearance of children on the broadcast station of the dead. The fact that they appeared in comedies and choirs and here and there words, sentences and greetings were called out to me, proved that the children are conscious and awake and take an active part in the hereafter. Both children and adults spoke in the same way. In the 1961, I recorded the following children choir. I’ll present it in its original language:
“We’re driving gamla (old Swedish) parapluie,
Vi (We, in Swedish) will drive with Wicander,
Know gamla (old Swedish) ferry…”
Apparently the children meant the Ghost ship, the old ferry, and why they call it the old parapluie (umbrella) is a riddle. But here also the pictorial language of the subconscious comes to the surface no matter how grotesque it may sound.
A small Russian boy said one time directly via microphone: “…and Nikolai did that!” Judging the tone of the voice, he must have been small, maybe around 4–5 years old.
186 A girl was supposed to tell me something. A male voice was encouraging her very much to do so.
“I’ll tell you…” the little one started in Swedish. “What should I talk about? Farbror pelle…” (Uncle Pelle)
“It’s so easy…”, said a male voice encouragingly in German.
The girl apparently had stage-fright, started hesitantly and with a shy voice: “You know what?…Hm!…Papa pelle…la radio io imparato (I learned) perfect! Good bye!…”
Something similar happened at another time as a older male voice said: “Why did you put me in front of this transmitter?”
Because the dead have kept their pure human side, they understand each other and us whom they have left behind. I have never heard the dead moralizing. Their objective view facts and their sense of humor help them overcome all difficulties. One evening Lena signaled that I had direct contact with a friend whose name was Tjema W., and whom I had last seen in the year 1938 in Palestine. Tjema was a Russian Jew, I met him in Tel Aviv, where he and a few other Russian Jews were living in very reduced circumstances.
Tjema suffered from epilepsy. He was as practically unable to work, lonely, poor and basically a deeply unhappy human being. I only know that he immigrated to Bulgaria after the war and had committed suicide there. I was extremely happy about the contact, unfortunately Tjema didn’t come through, and finally instead of his voice I heard my childhood friend Herbort B. say quietly: “Friedibus…love never dies…”
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