The morning of Monday, Aug. 16, 1926, while at my father’s chateau in Juan les Pins on the Riviera, I received a cable from George Ullman, sent at Rudy’s request, telling me of his sudden illness and operation. This came as a great shock to all of us for we thought him in the best of health. Although the message hinted that the illness was grave, we had no idea how grave it was. Aware, as we were, of Rudy’s splendid strength and unusual physical resistance, it did not occur to us for a moment that he might not recover. Nevertheless, the news worried me and, in the unexpected anxiety it aroused, all the petty resentment of our misunderstandings faded from my mind. Once again, he was the same old Rudy, in trouble, and he needed me. I cabled immediately that I would come to New York by the first sailing if he wanted me. “I never received an answer to that cable.” If Rudy received it at all it was while he was in a state of unconsciousness. Death came with unexpected swiftness. Even as the next two days passed we did not realize the danger. Mr. Ullman continued to notify us almost hourly of each slight change in Rudy’s condition and the news in his cables, as .they came, seemed favorable rather than discouraging. The actual presage of his death came through psychic communications. It happened that as guest at the chateau at that particular time was George Wehner, the distinguished American psychic, who had led us far along the ways of understanding of the spirit world. It had become our custom to have family sittings from time to time, with Mr. Wehner acting as medium. Wednesday evening during one of these sittings, while Mr. Wehner was in a state of deep trance, Rudy “came through.” We were first aware of his presence by mutterings of a few almost incoherent words and the repeated calling of auntie’s name and mine. This did not surprise or terrify us. Those who have investigated psychic phenomena know that it is not at all unusual for the consciousness of a person still living in the earth world to manifest itself or communicate at a distance while the body is sleeping or unconscious. On waking the person may remember these experiences in the form of a dream. Friday morning my cable from Mr. Ullman brought us news that Rudy was better—greatly improved and on the road to recovery. We were enormously cheered. That evening we were impressed to have another sitting. Almost immediately after Mr. Wehner was in trance, Black Feather, Rudy’s Indian friend who once had saved his life, “came through” to tell us that he was the chief and would not leave him. Then Jenny spoke, saying she had been constantly with Rudy since the beginning of his illness. He himself had seen her and called her name as he was taken to the ambulance. In confirmation of this X received a letter from my sister in New York the very week of Rudy’s passing, giving me details of his illness; explaining among other things, that Mr. and Mrs. Ullman had told her that Rudy kept calling the name of “Jenny” as he was being taken in the ambulance from his hotel. These communications from Jenny and Black Feather worried me. I could not reconcile them to the cheerful news of the morning’s cable for they seemed neither happy nor hopeful. And now, to cause me ever greater concern, a teacher from whom Rudy and I had received many lessons in the past, took control and talked to me gently, kindlv of personal things between Rudy and myself, and with such compassion as I had never heard him use. He spoke of Rudy’s great love for me, his life, his character and career, and explained that his term on this earth schoolroom was completed. Within the next few days he would pass to another plane of consciousness in this ever-continuing life. Early next morning I cabled Mr. Ullman for news of Rudy’s condition. The cable was not answered. What was there to say? We had been given the answer the night before, but had refused to accept it as truth, for what we do not wish to realize we try to stifle in our hearts. Monday morning I awoke to find the atmosphere of my room heavy with the perfume of tuberoses—and then I knew Rudy had passed on. When on Tuesday the delayed cables arrived announcing his death, I was grateful to the prophecy from the other world whose kindness and understanding had softened the cruelty of this news. The third day after his passing Rudy came to us for the first time, led by his mother, Gabriella. His attitude of mind, resentment at having been taken at the height of his career while his work he felt was not yet completed, made this first contact an unhappy one. He spoke not clearly but incoherently, remained with us only a moment, called auntie’s name and left suddenly. Then his mother spoke with us. She was almost distracted by his state of mind and regretted the day she had ever allowed him to leave Italy. What was the benefit of a success that had brought him to such bitterness aad anguish? Then others came to comfort us. They explained in a beautiful way that Rudy’s attitude was only natural. With all the force of world thought and grief directed upon him, nothing else was possible. We must have patience and each of us try to help him in our several ways. They, too, would help him, and this first darkness and despair would soon pass. It has, for I have communicated with Rudy very often since then and I know he is happy, still continuing on another plane the work he only began on this earth. Many will smile at what I am writing now, give it no credence, I discard it as the phantasms of my I brain. But a few years ago those same people would have smiled with I equal skepticism at the messages I the radio brings us to-day. How, I they would ask, can voices picked | out of the air be transmitted by an; unseen force over miles of empty | space? To-day no one doubts the validity of radio transmission. It is I just another scientific phenomenon to which yesterday we were blind. Each new development of science, from the steam car to the aero-plant, from the lightning rod to the telephone was at first hailed as a fraud by those who had not yet tested it. In the astounding revelations of the last quarter century, we are only beginning to comprehend the unseen forces of the universe which man has not yet utilized. Those who have not yet received test messages from the other world find it difficult to believe in communication after death. The man who has never heard a radio would be loud to declare that there is no such thing as music In the air about us. But we who have listened to it pay no attention to his beratings. We know he has never investigated it. For this reason, I am untouched by the stupid criticism of those who insist it is impossible for me to talk with Rudy, who has passed on to another plane apart from and above my own. How do I know these messages are not frauds? Can I see Rudy or touch him? But when my mother calls me by long distance phone from Chicago or from Paris, I cannot see her, but I hear her voice and I know it is she by the idiosyncrasies of her speech, by what she says and the way she says it. Fraud or impersonation would be impossible. The same is true of my messages from Rudy. If during the period I knew and lived with Rudolph Valentino I did not learn to know him better than to be duped by fraudulent messages, then I am a gullible fool! Fraud is for those who are willing to accept it. Truth is for those who seek it. Thus, I dismiss the subject for my belief is secure. Rudy was dead—yet he still lives, for life is ever-continuing. In all contemporary history there is only one young man who in his 20s was strong enough to withstand the great deluge of fame, adulation and flattery that was heaped on Rudolph Valentino.
Posts Tagged With: Black Feather
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