TV Radio Mirror (Jul - Dec 1962)

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I get so much enjoyment from my beautiful Bulova i radio that I'm sure you would love one for your home too Please send me your favorite snapshot, photo or Kodak picture when writing for your Bulova radio. We will make you a beautiful 5x7 mrli enlargement in a "Movietone" frame and you can tell friends about our hand colored enlargement* when handing out the coupons day and pay postman only forty-nine cents and a few cents fa! OUT c 0.d, service plus postage on arrival. Your original returned. Also include the color of hair and eyes with each picture so I can also our bargain offer on a second enlargement hand colored in oils for greater beauty, sparkle and life. Limit of 2 to any one person --•nd today for your 20 FREE coupons to hand out and please enclose your name, address and favorite snapshot. Our supply of Bulova radios is limited. Mrs. Ruth Long, Gift Manager. DEAN STUDIOS Dept. X-569, 913 Walnut St., Des Moines 2, Iowa words might have been greeted with disbelieving laughter. But Aladdin didn't laugh. Hadn't he had the same feeling? He just hadn't been sure of the time . . . or the place. . . . But that was it, of course — China. Hadn't he always been interested in Chinese art and culture? As the weeks and months passed, they shared reminiscences of that other life. She would begin to describe a place she remembered . . . and he would complete the description, exactly as she had intended. Or he would start to recall a scene . . . and she would fill out the details that had been in his own mind. In 1942, they were married, and their life was a happy one as Aladdin worked with various orchestras around the country. Neither was afraid to speak of the ancient memories they shared. After all, what was there to be afraid of? Now, however, it was different. Now his wife had felt pain . . . the pain of another person, many miles away. And for the first time, Aladdin was troubled. This strange awareness was something he couldn't share. He realized now that Louise's powers of perception were infinitely greater than his. And he couldn't help being afraid for her. The mystery in the envelope Not many weeks later, Aladdin received a letter from Bob. It was strangely vague, but hinted that he might be home before long. Since the battle for the South Pacific was still raging, Aladdin knew there was something odd about the letter — but he and Louise just looked at each other and said nothing. It was enough that Bob was alive. They were living at that time in Los Angeles, which was Bob's home, too. And, one night, they received a phone call. "I'm in San Francisco ! " said Bob's voice. "I'm on my way home." "Bob, that's wonderful!" Aladdin answered. "But . . . you're all right, aren't you?" "We'll talk about it when I come home," Bob said evasively. "But don't worry . . . I'm okay now." A couple of nights later, Aladdin and Louise gave a welcome-home party for Bob in their apartment. He seemed in excellent health, delighted to be home . . . until a strange expression crossed his face and he seemed a little dizzy. Louise asked him gently, "Bob, why don't you lie down? Your leg's bothering you, isn't it?" Bob was obviously startled. "What are you talking about?" Calmly she said, "Come into the other room." In the bedroom, she took the envelope from the dresser drawer and handed it to him. "Read what's inside." He tore it open, took out the sheet of paper. His face turned white. "Where — where did you get this?" She told him. <( "But I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. "It's the time and the date when I was wounded — to the very minute. You see Louise, I was hit by shrapnel. But I didn't want to tell you — I knew you'd worry. It went through my left leg and into my right." In the years that followed, other evi dences of Louise's extra-sensory perception began to appear. She started reading the cards for her friends . . . yet she refused to read them for Aladdin. "I'm afraid of what I might see," she explained . . . and he didn't press her. But Louise often read for a friend named Marge, and many a prediction came true. Then, one day, Louise read the cards to her for the last time. "Now look, Marge," she said gravely, her fear mirrored in her face. "You have a teen-age relative who is going to come home and complain of not feeling well. Don't treat it lightly. Call a doctor. "Otherwise," she added ominously, "he will not live." By some quirk of fate, Marge forgot the warning. Three weeks later, a relative of hers — a fifteen-year-old boy — came home and complained he wasn't feeling well. He was put to bed, but it didn't seem serious . . . and nobody called a doctor. By morning, he was dead of polio. When Aladdin's wife heard the news, she shuddered. "That's it. I will never read the cards again. When I start predicting death, I've had enough!" Aside from this frightening experience, their life together seemed happier than ever. Aladdin was hired to play with Lawrence Welk's band, went on television and was an immediate hit with audiences. He became a regular feature of the Welk shows over ABC and also did character parts on drama programs. Things were going very well indeed, and Aladdin was grateful. Then a musician friend of Aladdin's died suddenly. A short time later, Aladdin and Louise were sitting near a glass door overlooking the patio . . . and they saw their friend walk past, as real as life. They saw him again, on several other nights. They lost a dog — a pet of many years. It died, but was not gone. Many times, as evening fell over the San Fernando Valley where they now lived, the dog would come to the door of the patio . . . as though waiting to be let in. Neither Aladdin nor Louise attempted to understand these occurrences. They just accepted them. What else was there to do? Whether they were visions, or ghosts, they couldn't tell. All they knew was that they both saw them . . . that they appeared to be as substantial as flesh and blood. . . . The dark and lonely nights Then, three years ago, Aladdin suffered a painful kidney infection and had to go to the hospital. There were complications requiring at least two serious operations. Somehow he survived, but for weeks he couldn't use his legs. And then, just as Aladdin was learning to walk again, Louise fell ill. The doctor's diagnosis was definite — and dreadful: Cancer. Within five months, she was dead. Now began the most difficult time of Aladdin's life — far worse than his suffering in the hospital. Now he was alone, and life seemed empty and meaningless. His health was returning, the doctors had let him go home, but he