Over the years, I reminded Dad of a pact we had made that whoever died first was to contact the other. On December 23, 1983, my brother Jack called from Oklahoma to tell me Dad had died, We had blizzards at home and in Oklahoma, so I did not go to the funeral.
That night, I was playing cards with some friends of mine, Esther and Lou, when my cordless phone dialed itself. Esther and Lou were frightened, but I said Dad was letting me know that he could hear and see. ( He had been blind for twenty years and had recently lost his hearing.)
The next morning the phone dialed itself twice, before two other witnesses. They said it was a malfunction or that someone was using my wavelength to place long-distance calls . I reported this to the phone company, but no additional calls had been made.
Because of the weather, Dad’s funeral my phone rang frantically. Somehow, I sensed Dad was shouting to me; “Get the money out of the trunk. It is in plastic in my brown suit.”
I called Jack and he told me that the Salvation Army was to pick up the trunk as soon as the weather cleared. I told Jack about Dad’s message. There was dead silence. Awestruck, he said, “My God, I forgot all about that.”
When he could talk coherently, he explained that when Dad went into the rest home at age ninety, he was upset because he had only a little money each month, so Jack gave him seventy-five dollars.
Jack said he watched Dad wrap the money in plastic and put it in the inside pocket of his suit and lock it in the trunk. He took the money from the trunk. My phone never dialed itself again.