“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Jane continued: “I don’t know if this is connected with Bill Macdonnel or not... but somebody’s around here, in an out-of-body state, I think. I am sort of seeing things as they do. When I walk through our rooms and stuff. I got the word Maisie, a name... When I said that—I don’t see anything—but I got the feeling of a car accident... wanders... not sure if he, Bill, was in an accident with a girl named Maisie.”

(Eyes still closed, face streaked with tears, Jane whispered, “I’m trying to control it...” Her breathing quieted as I talked to her. I thought of shaking her out of trance, but didn’t know whether to or not. Jane sat quietly through a long pause, then muttered: “Cracked glass ... windshield. I don’t know where I am now. I’m in the driver’s seat ... Whoever was on the other side of the car is gone.” [Pause.] “It’s very quiet ... Maybe nobody find—maybe nobody find us ...” she whispered. Each time I thought she might be coming out of it while quiet, Jane would then go back into the experience.

(“I’m still in the car,” she said, “and it sits on the bank...” Her voice rose toward crying again but controlled this. “People are coming, but it seems like they’ll never get here. I don’t know.”

(“Boston...avenue...Nina,” [whispered; mouth odd again] “stolen... picture about the river. Movie...” Jane rubbed her upper left arm, muttering. “My arm hurts.” Again Jane jumped on the couch, her mouth odd. She bent forward, eyes closed, and reached down toward the floor. “There’s something on the floor of the car... floor hanging out..?” She kicked off her shoes and sat with her legs doubled under. Again she was upset. Her right hand against her cheek, head down, moving about.

(“There were two cars,” Jane cried out, glasses thrown aside. Mouth odd. “So quiet ... am I dead? Right there... arm’s funny.” Now she rubbed her lower left arm; she cried out, voice rising almost to a scream: “I was driving. Can’t make out—!” Jane burst into tears. “Papa, Papa, Papa...” I spoke to her loudly but it did no good. “I... Papa should know it wasn’t my fault. Brakes bad... I can’t decipher...”

(Jane thought she had been thinking about a Tam or a Cam, which of course apply to Tam Mossman or Bill Macdonnel. She didn’t see either man. Jane thought she was the girl, rather than an observer. She had been driving; someone beside her had been thrown out of the car on the floor. It had been a direct emotional experience for Jane.

(It was then I remembered hearing Tam mention his girl, Eve, over the weekend, for what this is worth. This morning after I left for work, Jane lay down to experiment with psy-time, and had a dream involving Tam Mossman; the location of the dream, and possible out-of-body experience, was in back of our apartment house, though, and not in New York City where Tam and Eve live. Jane had no idea of the location of her experience tonight. It took place at night. Jane had the impression of police cars during the experience but they hadn’t reached her yet; although the girl knew the police were near.

(At 11:05 Jane said she was not Evelyn; she remembered calling out for Evelyn. Evelyn was the person “I was so concerned about. She was in the car with me before the accident. I was a woman, but not Evelyn. But I was in the driver’s seat. Whoever sat next to me, or was supposed to, was gone—not there—or hurt or thrown free...”

(Jane now recalled that the car’s right door was open. Wherever the car was, it was off the road and down a bank, with grass and brush or bushes. Jane said she doesn’t know what streets are like in the city [although she was in New York City last year with me]—if the road in the experience was a superhighway in the city, there was still the slope, not level, going down from the road.

(Jane was not sure if her experience was contemporary. She never saw another car. She didn’t feel the collision. When she yelled out about the brakes she was terrified; she thinks she got scared at this point and pulled back. I told her, several times, not to go back into the experience as I asked questions. I also repeated that I’d not ask any questions if she so chose. Each time we discussed this point, it seemed to lead automatically to more questions, and so the interview after the experience continued as represented in these notes.

(Jane didn’t see any buildings in the accident location, no lighted windows at night. But she did see the lighted police cars, etc., already described.