“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(At l0:15, Jane decided to try giving impressions. I was quite bleary. Jane didn’t want to close her eyes, but she did, and waited.

(Jane was now more positive and had a rising emotion in her voice; eyes closed during all this: “In fact, Maisie is 21... and she’s either got two young brothers and sisters, or two very young children.” [Pause.] “A drive-in movie... oh Robby ...” Jane’s voice rose urgently: “Slam on brakes, slam on brakes!” she yelled.

(“I don’t know,” Jane said, then suddenly jumped on the couch and threw up her hands, eyes still closed, in the obvious grip of urgent strong emotion: “I don’t know —slam—slam brakes!” Jane cried and yelled out, almost hysterical. I sat beside her, not knowing whether to continue the notes or try to bring her out. My touch on her shoulder helped; her crying subsided but continued as she called to me. I remembered reading that gifted mediums will actually live through experiences; that although obviously under great stress, they are actually safe.

(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.

(“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 was a pause at 10:47. For the first time Jane’s eyes opened. Wide, they stared straight ahead, toward the bookcase. I soon saw that she was not seeing anything in the usual sense; nor did she hear me. Then her eyes closed. “Robby, tell them, whoever they are...they shouldn’t be here. It’s all right...”