"Hello, Mum"

Radio Record, Volume III, Issue 7, 30 August 1929, Page 27

"Hello, Mum"

From ‘Sydney ‘to London A FHW days ago a boy lay dying in a Sydney hospital; he had been injured in a fall, and his condition seemed hopeless. "Mother, mother!" he kept uttering, each time weaker and more desponding, but no mother came -she was in England, and it seemed as though he must sink without seeing her. To the doctors it was evident that his very life rested on seeing or hearing his mother-there was one possibility, radio, and the decision was made. JACK SIGRIST was keyed to.a pitch of excitement that was fraying his nerves. Anxiously he watched the electricians installing the apparatus near his bed, and it seemed years to him before it was ready, At last the. microphone was slung over the top of his. bed. Jack regarded it. with doubt in his eye. "I just can’t believe that if I talk into this. thing mother will hear me," he remarked to an electrician. The suspense was telling on the boy; he smoked cigarette after cigarette. Appealingly he gazed at the microphone. At his bedside the wireless man was connecting and disconnecting, testing, and retesting. "Hello, London!" ‘ The boy sat bolt upright in his bed, pain forgotten. ° "Hello, Mrs. Sigrist, just a moment." Almost before the last syllable was out of his mouth, the boy was speaking. "Hello, mum!" His voice rang through the ward; an elderly woman visiting her son at the other end of the ward, wept. "Yes, mum, I’m getting-on fine-no, no pain." The boy was smiling happily now, and the other patients craned their necks forward. At the other end of the wire a joyous mother spoke commonplaces to her son, who answered her from a distance of more than 12,000 miles... Her voice faded slightly; panic in his eyes, the boy looked up at the wireless man. "That noise will go soon, sonny," he said reassuringly. "Hello, mum! Yes, I can hear you. T’ll soon be out of here. I’m coming home passenger. I’m sitting up now, mum, There’s no need to worry about anything. There’s lots of people come in to see me." "And, listen, mum, I’ve got=the best doctor in Sydney looking after me. How’s Marjorie? Give her my love, too." "T’ll write soon," he promised. _ "My arm is out of splints, and I’ll soon be able to write." i "How’s everything at home? Good." "*‘The Guardian’ has taken some photos of me-I’ll send you some. ‘ What’s that? They are taking photos of you, too. Will you send me some?" "What's that, you’ve got to go now? Good-byt, don’t worry. My leg’s all right." He took off the headphones. Twenty minutes had passed. a _ "Wonderful! I heard as plainly as anything," he said. Then glancing ‘apologetically atthe nurses.’ "I had to tell mum lies about my poor old leg, otherwise she would have worried." | "Of course you had, sonny," they chorused. .