January 4, 2001
I never met my paternal grandfather, since he died over a decade before I was born. So, it was a marvelously pleasant surprise when my mother a month ago gave me a recently discovered notebook containing the personal diary of her father-in-law. She told me that it might be of interest to me because of my involvement in the realm of psychic phenomena. “Your grandfather had the exact same hobby,” she told me. My mother was correct. Every entry turned out to hold enormous fascination for me. Revelation after revelation came from this old journal of 1941. The very first page itself presented me with an opening into a world I was unaware had once existed for this ancestor I had never seen or met.
March 15, 1941
Was what I saw last night a dream or an extrasensory message? It was something both visible and audible to me, yet impossible to describe in words.
My search for a mental link has now continued for a year and a half. It was only in the fall of 1939 that I became seriously involved in scanning about with my mind in a determined way. Continuing and persisting, my hope for contact was at last met with success. Who could have imagined it would come to me in such a short time? My zeal for psychic communication has soared to the sky. I need longer, clearer signaling, and I aim to capture it.
I have shared nothing of this with anyone else. My wife would be disturbed if she learned that I had heard these words spoken out of nowhere. “Listen to me, listen to me, tell me that you can hear. Send me confirmation of your reception. Inform me that I am succeeding in my connection. Do not remain silent. Do not leave me to talk to myself.”
All at once I took on the mission of telepathic communication with this unseen, unidentified source.
March 17, 1941
Confirmation of my simple call of “hello out there” has come to my eager mind. I now know it can be done. That is what I picked up as I rested on the sofa in my study. “My mind can understand what you say to it. My mind is taking in your thought. Tell me more. Who are you and what are you? Speak to me at any length you wish, at any waking hour. I am oriented in your direction.” That was the message I received. My sense of joy is high now. Tomorrow evening I will try making a link again. This is something I never thought I could do.
January 7, 2001
I am startled by what my grandfather was attempting. Not only had he received messages, but he succeeded in completing a circle of communications. His victorious efforts are a heritage that I was ignorant of. All of a sudden, an ambition is beginning to rise within me.
Could it be possible for my grandfather and me to create a psychic bridge over time?
That would be a historic achievement. A spectacular feat of human thought.
There is nothing to lose by trying. I must try transtemporal contact to 1941, when grandfather made the connection he wrote of in his diary.
Is it possible that as I read more pages in this diary of his that I will find some sign that he is hearing me, along with the other corresponding mind that is probably situated in his own 1941?
I shall proceed slowly, day by day, page by page, in this diary from the past.
March 18, 1941
I keep asking my psychic partner for name and location, but can learn nothing precise. On the other hand, my own candor is absolute, my identity given completely. Why is the other so reticent? Why this lack of reciprocity? Since I wish to continue our exchange, I shall not insist on personal details from my partner in communication.
But the refusal to answer my questions bothers me gravely. I am troubled by it.
January 9, 2001
I have struck an obstacle. My grandfather asks again and again for my name and location. Dare I inform him that I am his future descendent? It is a difficult decision to make. I do not want to disorient or disconcert the man. As best I can, my duty is to conceal without outright lying. No, it is not the right time to confess my relationship to him. That may come about or not, I am unable to predict what will happen.
So far, I have managed to dodge the making of a direct reply to his questions about me. Whenever he asks, I come back with a question about him.
March 19, 1941
Why are you so stubborn and unwilling to say who you are? What is there to hide? I am deeply disappointed in your distrust of me. I am a discreet person. There is nothing for you to fear. I cannot conceive of the reason for your attitude. Is it based on psychic paranoia of some sort? It only makes me all the more anxious to have a solution to the mystery of my partner’s identity. How can I be open with someone who is not the same toward me?
January 10, 2001
So that is what my grandfather plans! He thinks that he can trick me somehow into saying who I am. But it is I who enjoy the ultimate advantage. I can read ahead in his diary and see for myself what he is going to say to me. That is what I have to do, look ahead a page and read what his plan is to make me say who I am.
Here I go into what he is going to write down from our next exchange of messages.
March 20, 1941
As soon as our link was made this evening, I presented to him the scheme I had thought up to spring on my secretive psychic twin. This is what I said: you are not a person of 1941, but someone quite different, of another time. I have come to the conclusion that you are a resident of the past, and that is what inhibits you from telling me about yourself.
That is where the truth lies. So confess to me your temporal location. Is it in the 1930’s, the 1920’s, or much earlier than that?
In my own imagination, you are a person of some year like 1891.
That is your generation, your span of life.
You speak to me from the Gay Nineties, and that is what you are embarrassed to admit to me. Say whether I am right or wrong in my conclusion.
No reply came. The psychic crossover was broken and ended right there, never to be restored.
I surmised that I had guessed correctly, that my correspondent was back in the 1890’s.
January 11, 2001
My grandfather was justfied in surmising that I myself cut off our connection. That was the only right thing to do. I could have lied that I was placed in 1891. It would have been like claiming that I was grandfather to my own grandfather. But it would have been a great blow to my own sense of personal integrity.
Why did I not confess to being his grandson, in the future world of 2001?
Messages identified as from time to come would have been harder to handle than communications from out of the past.
An unknown grandson is surely more jarring than someone like a grandparent in age.
I can read his diary pages, but he will never be able to see mine.
Even after searching every page of his diary, I find no more mention of our link. Never again did my grandfather try to find a psychic partner. There is not a word more on that subject.
He went to his grave not knowing that he had made psychic contact with his grandson.
ogledalosf 