I worked with Freddie in the early 1950’s. Much older than myself. He was previously a physiotherapist for the Prime Minister of New Zealand.

For his age, Freddie was a live wire, always on the go. He walked, talked, and moved like a person in their 30’s. A very active and inventive mind. He dressed traditionally in a business suit and tie and wore a trilby hat.

His private life was completely unknown to me, until one day purely by chance, I was given a glimpse into a small part of it.
I was walking in the city center when a voice behind me called my name and turned to see Freddie. He had a younger woman with him. She appeared to be about my age.

There is a saying that opposites attract, but this example went, to say the least to the extreme. She was wearing a tight low cut floral dress showing her cleavage, and knees. Her face was heavily made up with bright red lipstick and rouge on her cheeks. Visually and bearing in mind it was the 1950’s she could have been labeled a “tart”.

He introduced her by name but not the relationship. Talking to her left no doubt in my mind that she looked, but was definitely not a “tart”.

The conversation over, both parties went their separate ways. After a few seconds I turned to look back, and Freddie had his arm around her waist. The relationship revealed.

I was to become aware later that Freddie had a keen interest in the occult.
He contacted me to ask if I would drive him out to attend a séance in Glen Iris, a suburb of Melbourne. He was such an interesting and genuine character I could not refuse.
We arrived there after dark to a house situated in its own grounds away from the road. About fifteen people were beginning to get seated around a large table, and the medium was preparing to start the séance. Freddie had managed to get seated quite close to her.

 Everyone held hands, the lights were dimmed, and the medium started her routine. The moaning and groaning intensified and began to reach a crescendo as she was getting prepared to make contact with the dead. I was watching Freddie and he was getting more and more agitated.  I was thinking that it was the effect from the séance, but how wrong I was. He leaped from his chair and in a loud voice “Rubbish, Fake, Trickery, and other accusations.

Within seconds two heavy looking gentlemen appeared from behind the window curtains, which coincidentally had been shaking during the séance, and I watched as Freddie was grabbed from behind, and then felt being pulled from my chair and we were both painfully frog-marched out of the house and thrown unceremoniously down the front steps. The two heavies waited until our car had cleared the premises.

I looked at Freddie but didn’t speak.
Despite all the turmoil that had just occurred he was looking more upbeat than usual.
 

“That was another séance con”, He said.
“I’ll expose as many as I can”.

I was thinking to myself. “It might have been a good idea to have let me in on his intentions”.
He probably miscalculated thinking that I would not be involved and manhandled.
He never asked me to another séance.

 I lost contact with Freddie afterward but learned that he was ill and had been admitted to the Heidelberg Repatriation hospital in the outskirts of Melbourne, so I went to see him.
He was sitting up in bed looking frail and much older than before. His “girlfriend” at his bedside. She left us to talk.

During our conversation, he mentioned the séance and made me a promise.
“If there is anything to this afterlife I will surely contact you”.
He must have known that he was dying from cancer.

 More than 50 years have passed since that day, and I can honestly say that he has not yet visited me.

 The séance was a very memorable moment

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