Yeah, Lynda! I've a wonderful female cat named Kitty (no, it was not a copy from Astors Airedale. I brought her to my home in November 2001 when I didn't even know who JJ Astor was!).
Regarding your question, there are several mentions of a female cat named Jenny and many little kiddens. The last references show us that she and her babies boarded Titanic in Belfast but disembarked in Southampton. However, Violet Jessop stated that she saw the cat during the voyage, but the "experts" can give a better explanation than mine.
Im sure a lot of people here dismiss the theory that Thomas Andrews is reincarnated but in his past life regression he mentioned a cat named Jenny who tried to move her kittens to the top deck prior to the sinking.
How can someone who died on the Titanic in 1912 possibly have had a past life regression in which he mentions a cat who was there with him at the time? My cat, Boris, tells me authoritatively that this can't possibly be right.
>>Im sure a lot of people here dismiss the theory that Thomas Andrews is reincarnated but in his past life regression he mentioned a cat named Jenny who tried to move her kittens to the top deck prior to the sinking.<<
Uhhhhhh...so what? This particular legend is extremely well known. Ignoring for the moment the fact that the evidence is anecdotal and completely unconfirmed, the fact that it is well known makes it useless as a "proof" of re-icarnation.
I think the story is that, in a "regression" interview, somebody claimed to be Thomas Andrews. This is surely the context in which the cat called Jenny who tried to move her kittens to the top deck was mentioned. The cat referred to by Violet Jessop was not necessarily the same animal.
Oh, I see. It didn't quite read like that. I have a friend who was a tax accountant for Burmah Oil for 20 years and then suddenly veered wildly in the opposite direction, resigned, changed her name from Anne to Anavrati, dyed her hair scarlet, and began to make a living as an alternative therapist. It was rather bewildering. She does regression, she tells me, and says she's met some very interesting people among the reincarnees, though to be fair she never says she's met Napoleon or Stalin etc., which could be faintly alarming come to think of it. But, as Mike says, I for example, could probably give a fairly convincing description of a peasant's life in the 15th century, and what it was like to die grovelling in the dirt from the Black Death - merely because I've read and seen quite a lot about it. I'm sure I'd make mention of the village common privy - because my history teacher at primary school tried to liven up the lessons with grim descriptions. I might do this totally unwittingly under hypnosis, if that's what it is, but I still wouldn't think this was proof. Not too sure about a future life either, if it means landing in the middle of a 15 metre rise in sea level and water wars etc.
I could give a very convincing description of a peasant's life in the present century. But more to the point I've always been keen to meet all these reincarnated Titanic people to ask them just one question. To which all have responded with puzzlement that no, they did not have occasion onboard to buy a packet of Woodbines.
I've never met a peasant with the amount of electronic kit that you've got, Bob. But keep up the research into the on-board price of Woodbines. I'll give you Anavrati's number - you're bound to meet a smoker from 1912 eventually.
I've already been through most of Anavrati's client list, Mon. Sadly Anne Boleyn didn't smoke Woodbines. Neither did Rasputin or Oliver Cromwell. She did have more than a few Captain Smiths and Murdochs on the books, but most of them favoured Senior service, four were on Capstan Full Strength and one was never alone with a Strand. A little bit out on the chronology, that one.
Hmmm. The Strand smoker (1956?) is obviously a fraud. Anne Boleyn smoked oakum - I know this as she told me herself. I think you're going to have to focus on 3rd class for your Woodbine research - which could be a problem. Reincarnees tend to be toffs.
My own experience with regression, at yet another Psychic Faire, was a complete wash.
I did not expect otherwise.
However, what amused me, and is relevant to this site, is that I had a bit of Empress of Ireland wreckage, a fragment of the Lusitania wreck, an Andrea Doria chunk, and quite a few other grim souvenirs on me. I should have been giving off bad vibes (kindly reserve comment, please) enough to trigger at least a slight *blip* on even ONE of the psychics present. But, not even a slightly raised eyebrow registered, as I handed over an antique looking pocket watch for "readings." The watch was made for me in 1976. No one "reading" it commented "Hey, I get the impression of about 4100 violent deaths emanating from your pockets" but then, they also did not "read" that I am the original owner of the watch and that both people who had it made for me are still living.
If y'all are ever in the U.S. during Psychic Faire season... aka the weeks heading up to Halloween, please do join me as I enjoy this guiltiest of pleasures.
What's amusing about a lot of these "psychics" particularly the ones who make their living this way, is that not one of them who manages to run afoul the law ever predicts their being arrested, tried, convicted, and jailed for fraud and tax evasion.
Hardly inspires confidence.
If you ever have the chance, pick up some back issues of Skeptic and Skeptical Inquirer. They run articles on this from time to time.
A few years ago, I paid a gypsy on my doorstep £15 for a fortune-telling reading, largely because she had no teeth and I felt sorry for her. She was a right Raggedy-Anne. I expect, when she got home, she put in her dentures and climbed into an alluring outfit ... however.
Nearly everything she said was wrong. Totally wrong. I knew it as she said it, but I just kept gazing at her gums. Now, I only open the door to the Jehova's Witnesses or the Scientologists or the Mormons - at least you can argue with them. And win.
A favorite memory. Once upon a time, I had a co-worker. Coworker believed in all things psychic. And had a personal psychic he took VERY seriously.
His psychic told him, of a summer day, that a curse had been placed upon him. Specifically, upon his money. And, that he should withdraw his savings from the bank, place it in a pillowcase from which a swath in the shape of a heart had been cut, and sleep on it for a week.
Mirabile dictu, the curse did not lift!
He, our coworker, then told us that the psychic had advised him to send the money, in this case over $10,000, to her by registed mail, and she'd work on lifting the curse. And then return the money.
"Oh, sh--, you didn't!" we said, in disgusted unison, cutting off the flow of his story.
He got very defensive, and denied that he had, in a way which confirmed to all of us that the money had been mailed. No resolution to the story... he declined to discuss it with us again.
A classic, bizarre, "couldn't work in a million years" scam which seemed to have worked all too well.
You should have just bought the clothes pegs, Mon. But you're far, far too nice. Before she turned up on your doorstep, that same gypsy had called on me with the same scam. That's why she had no teeth.
Oh, well spotted, Martin. You will note that I wasn't dressed in quite my best on that occasion, it being rather early in the season. In the interests of good taste, my companion with the parasol (a lady of breeding) cannot be identified. But that's Mon on the left. Having unwisely purchased all the Romany's clothes pegs, she was offering them to my companion as a job lot "for a fair screw, lady". We of course affected not to know her.
Well, if you believe that, you'll believe anything, Martin. The lady on the left is demanding to know whether Bob has put the baby's name down for Eton yet, and I'm trying to ignore the whole sorry business. And furthermore Bob has Photoshopped that shine onto his topper .... vanity, sheer vanity.