Fifty Years a Medium – Chapter 4, 12/12 by Estelle Roberts

“How did he die? What does he say happened to him?”
“He was in The Navy, in Scotland. There was an air raid. He was blown overboard and drowned. He says his mother still lives in the old house.”

Terry waited to hear no more. He pulled his companion to her feet, saying: “I know where Mac used to live. We’ll go along and check.”

They came back two hours later, tired but convinced. They had spoken to Jimmy’s mother. She had been reluctant to discuss the details of her son’s passing, but had told them enough to confirm all that I had said. It was a moment of revelation for them.

Before we went to bed that night, I said: “Jimmy has given me another message for you, Terry. He said: ‘Tell Toady I’ll give him a sign he’ll remember. Tell him I’ll watch out on Monday morning at nine o’clock.’“

On the Sunday, their leave over, Terry and his friend returned to their billets in different parts of the country. Terry was due to report back at 9 a.m. on Monday and, as nearly always happened, he overslept. The result was a mad rush to get back on time. As he hurried from his billet to the camp, Jimmy gave the promised sign.

Terry was passing a churchyard when the clock in the tower struck nine. As it did so, an overhanging branch of yew touched the cap and tipped it to the ground. Bending down to pick it up, he suddenly remembered Jimmy’s promise. He remembered, too, that many times when they were boys together, Jimmy had done just that to his school cap.

Of course, it could have been a coincidence that this characteristic action should have occurred at precisely the promised hour, but there was no doubt in Terry’s mind. I have often heard him tell this story, though until this moment I have never thought to ask if he was put on a charge for being late. If he was, he would be the first to agree that it was worth it, because from that day to this he has yielded to no one in his Spiritualist convictions.