In the heartland of the Tlingit Indians, the belief in reincarnation was not merely a notion, but a deeply ingrained conviction. Victor Vincent, a revered Tlingit fisherman, shared this belief with his niece, Corliss Chotkin Sen, a fellow member of the tribe. Their bond grew stronger in the years preceding Victor’s passing, especially with Corliss’s youngest daughter, whom Victor fervently believed to be the reincarnation of his own sister, Gertrude.
A year prior to his passing, Victor confided in Corliss, his voice tinged with anticipation, “I will return as your next son. I hope I won’t be stuttering as much then as I do now. Your son will bear these scars.” With gentle solemnity, he bared his back, revealing a distinct scar from a surgery etched in time. Needle marks clustered around it, a poignant reminder of the operation. Another mark adorned his nose, another testament he carried for his return. Victor’s reasons were clear – he trusted Corliss to care for him and ensure he did not succumb to the curse of alcohol, an affliction that had ravaged their kin.
Eighteen months after Victor’s soul departed, Corliss Chotkin welcomed a son into the world, christening him Corliss Chotkin Junior. The child bore the same scars as Victor – a divine echo across lifetimes. The scar on his back was a visible reminder of Victor’s surgery, an affirmation that transcended the boundaries of mere coincidence.
At just 13 months old, Corliss surprised everyone when he pointed to himself and declared, “Me Kahkody!” The name resonated deep within, a tribute to Victor’s tribe, a name he had once cherished. This declaration became a defining hallmark of his rebirth.
In a chance encounter in a seaside town, Corliss’s young heart leaped with joy as he recognized a familiar face, calling her by her Tlingit name. She had been Victor’s stepdaughter in his previous life. Shortly thereafter, his eyes locked onto a man in the crowd, confidently stating, “There’s my son William.” The reunion with souls intertwined across lifetimes continued.
As the years unfolded, Corliss’s ability to recognize the vestiges of Victor’s past life remained astonishingly intact. At a grand Tlingit gathering, he looked upon an elderly woman with knowing eyes, proclaiming, “That’s the old dame. That’s my Rose.” She had once been his beloved, a truth that resided deep within his soul.
Corliss’s lips would occasionally part, revealing fragments of Victor’s past. He recounted the treacherous day at sea, the engine’s betrayal, and salvation arriving in the form of a passing boat. Clad in a Salvation Army uniform, he had signaled for help, an episode etched in Victor’s memory and now shared by Corliss.
However, as Corliss reached the age of nine, the memories that once flowed freely began to ebb. When interviewed by the renowned psychiatrist Dr. Ian Stevenson at 15, Corliss could not remember incidents from his past life, a phenomenon not uncommon among children who remember previous incarnations.
Victor’s essence flowed through Corliss in more ways than one. From the forward-combed hair to the shared stutter, their souls danced in harmony. Left-handedness, a peculiar trait, further affirmed their intertwined destinies. Corliss’s transformation from stutterer to fluent speaker after speech therapy mirrored Victor’s hope for a smoother communication in his next life.
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