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Thoughts through Space – Sir Hubert Wilkins and Harold M Sherman

As these tests continued, the interest of Reginald Iversen, chief radio operator for the New York Times, grew. He finally asked me to let him see Wilkins' report on some two and a half months' listing of impressions which I had just received by airmail from Aklavik.

"Why don't you and Mrs. Iversen come out to our apartment for dinner next Monday evening," I invited, "and we'll go over the impressions together."

"Fine!" Iversen accepted, "but Monday is one of the nights you sit for impressions. That's something I’d like to see. Do you think you could tune in on Wilkins with us present?"

"I'll be glad to try it," I promised, and the date was set for Monday evening, February 21, 1938.

Sir Hubert Wilkins had gone, earlier that month, to Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, to secure a new engine for his plane, following the "crankcase" accident, which I had foreseen, He had only recently returned to Aklavik.

As I sat for impressions that particular night, Mr. and Mrs. Iversen and my wife were in the study with me. They remained, quietly observant, on the sofa, until the period was finished. Then I turned to them, notebook in hand, and read the impressions that I had just recorded.

Strangely enough, on this night of all nights, I had the feeling that Wilkins was trying to get in touch with Iversen by short-wave radio, and I had written:

Think you (Wilkins) would like to get some word through to lversen , if you could reach him before Thursday - wonder if this thought in your mind tonight as you think of me-?

"No, you're wrong on that impression!" said Iversen, positively. "Wilkins knows that I don't work Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He knows that I'm off duty at the Times tonight, Monday, at seven. That means I won't be at the office again until Thursday morning. He never tries to reach me during my off-time."

"Perhaps not," said I, "but the feeling still stays with me that Wilkins has some messages for you, and has been trying to get them through tonight."

Iversen was amused, but unconvinced.

"There’s something to this telepathic business all right," he admitted.

"You've received too many correct impressions over all this time. But you're wrong about Wilkins trying to radio me tonight. I guess my being here has influenced you to put that down."

The Iversens left some time after 2 A.M., for their home in Astoria, Queens, Long Island.

Next morning, between 10 and 11, an excited Reginald Iversen phoned me.

"Say, I'm down at the New York Times - just came here to pick up two radio messages that were received by the night operator from Wilkins last evening, while we were up at your apartment! The operator phoned the house several times last evening, trying to reach me. This is the darnedest thing I ever heard tell of Sherman, how the deuce do you do it?"

"I don’t exactly know myself " was my answer. "All I know is what state of receptivity to take on-and then things happen."

"I'll say they do!" was Iversens rejoinder. "Didn’t you read me some impression that came through last night about the new plane engine?"

"Yes," said I. "Just a minute till I get my notebook." I then read from the originally transcribed impressions. "'Installing of engine has been completed, and testing of it carried out today."'

"Correct!" cried Iversen. "Listen to this radio message: 'Engine on plane mounted -won't be ready till Thursday'. . . and that’s not all, Sherman . . . you had some impression about Wilkins wirelessing me for equipment. Look back through your notes, and read it to me!"

I thumbed the pages to the date line of February 14th, and read: "'Kenyon seems to want more supplies or parts of equipment . . . you have to delegate New York, through lversen, to secure some pieces equipment and rush through in relation to repair job on plane's motor . . . also in connection radio . . ."'

"That's it!" said Iversen. "Radio!. . . Listen . . . here's Wilkins' second message which was sent last night: 'Unless you already ordered, hold everything ref Kenyon’s radio receiver. He will probably not get until after return."'

"Wait a minute!" I cut in. "I got a follow-up impression on that last night, as well as several nights ago. Don't you remember the impression I read you:

'. . . some member of crew requested you to get some article . . . can't make out what it was'. . . My impression wasn't as definite last night, but this indicates I was closely tuned to his thought on the radio."

"This beats me!" said Iversen. 'At this rate, I'll bet most of those other impressions you got last night turn out to be okay, too!"

Iversen's conjecture proved to be right. The recording of these additional impressions witnessed by the Iversens and my wife ultimately received confirmation from Wilkins.

One of them was particularly unusual. I had recorded:

". . . someone has skinned hand or finger. . . "And Wilkins had replied:

"Dyne had hands spotted with frost 'burns' which blister, or the skin is pulled right off when the hand is pulled away after being frozen to any metal . . ."

I had actually felt the condition of the hands, through my emotions, as I recorded the impression!