INHERITED MEMORY
(A True Experience)
by Kenneth B. Pritchard
Unexplored cells of the brain are the links to the past. So have written some of the authors of the day in their science fiction. How far from the truth, or how near, are they? Bear with me and you shall see, although you may not believe what I am about to tell you.
It occurred during my first trip to the Adirondack mountains in New York State. I was with my parents going to visit relatives there. I was about six or seven years of age.
My mother had not been up there for a number of years; indeed, it was years before I was born that she had gone there. Never, in the intervening years, had a trip been made, and I had no conception whatever of how the place looked.
We finally arrived at our destination.
Imagine, if you can, my surprise when I saw the house to which we were going. I said to my mother in some disappointment, "We've been here before!"
It came as a distinct shock when she replied; "No you haven't been here before. This is the first time we have ever brought you up this far."
I had recognized the house, the big tree next to it, the porch, and much of the interior. I had never seen the place in my life, yet it was entirely natural to my senses that I knew it!
Does not this make it appear that sight of the past is inherited from one generation to the next—perhaps, even into the future, so that what seems to be coincidental in vision is merely the breaking into the thread of the unknown tapestry of life? Who has the answer?