LOSS OF MEMORY

Taranaki Daily News, 10 November 1932, Page 7

LOSS OF MEMORY

MAN CONSULTS POLICE.

“I WONDER IF THIS IS ME.”

Sydney, Oct. 28. It. is pome relief to learn, from the police records this week that two of the many cases of ‘‘mysterious disappearance,” which have distressed Sydney of late, have been satisfactorily solved. In each instance the disappearance was due to loss of memory, and though this is serious enough to the victim, it does not shed tragic gloom over a whole community. t But some of these mysteries are still unsolved, and the most inexplicable of all is the vanishing of Florence Matthews five or six weeks ago from her luxurious home. Certain fdcts have come to light which' seem significant, though they do not as yet admit of rational interpretation. Last week the Australian Search Force—a body organised in 1910, but disbanded during the war —sent out 40 more or less exeprienced searchers to comb the hill country behind Cheltenham Valley, near Miss Matthews home. Half-way between Epping and Cheltenham in dense bush they came upon a “humpy”—what New Zealanders would call a “whare”—made mostly of sacking. The hut had been lately inhabited, apparently by a man, and in it were found some newspapers. The curious feature of the find was that the papers were all dated after September 20, the day of the girl’s disappearance, and some of them were open at pages on which reports of the. mystery appeared. It certainly looks as if the person who had lately vacated the hut had been interested in this strange mystery —but beyond that inference, the police are not yet prepared to go. It is not likely that the girl, if she ever was there, went there voluntarily, as the country is so rough that at several points the searchers could descend cliffs only by aid of ropes. So far the secret of Florence Matthews’ disappearance has certainly not been discovered. Yet the women police, who, under a very competent sergeant, are engaged in the quest,'are said to be convinced that “wherever she is she is safe.”

Of course, she may “turn up” at any moment. Last week a man walked into the police station at Newcastle and informed the officer in charge that he did not know where he had come from, or who he was. He was given a paper to read end after looking at it, pointed to one of the “missing” notices, and said, “I wonder if this is me.” In his pocket was half of an excursion ticket from Bowral to Sydney, but he could not remember that he “had ever heard the name.” However, the police sent messages to Bowral,. ar fl soon relatives in search of a missing man arrived in a motor-car. They recognised the wanderer at once, and he knew them, though at first he could not recall his own name. He is Eric Bailey, linotype operator on a Bowral paper, and even now he does not know whether he has just got back from Brisbane or what lie has been doing since he reached Sydon a business trip on October 15. Our memory and even our sense of personal identity plays us strange tricks sometimes, and if Bailey could lose himself and the consciousness of himself so completely, there ought to be hope for Florence Matthews yet.