Franek Kluski

Franek Kluski, also known as Teofil Modrzejewski, is a figure with a remarkable life story, combining the talents of a poet and journalist with a gift for mediumship. Even as a child, he was fascinated by the mysteries of spirits, which led to his later extraordinary experiences at spiritualistic séances. Modrzejewski, distinguished by his diligence and dedication, became a renowned medium, gaining recognition among paranormal researchers. His life, filled with mystical journeys and encounters with the afterlife, intrigued many, and his abilities were repeatedly confirmed by séance witnesses.

Teofil Modrzejewski and Franek Kluski are one and the same person. Modrzejewski was a talented poet and a popular pre-war journalist for several illustrated literary magazines, as well as a responsible family man and participant in the Polish-Bolshevik War. Franek Kluski gained fame during the interwar period as an exceptionally gifted medium. It was as if two male souls lived in one body. They maintained a rather cool but respectful relationship; at least they didn't interfere with each other's interests.

Modrzejewski adopted the pseudonym Franciszek Kluski when he decided to seriously engage with ghosts. By then, he was already a mature man. However, his acquaintance with the afterlife began much earlier, in childhood.

He was an unusual child. He enjoyed solitude and silence. Little Teoś's favorite game was building tents out of chairs and a bedcover. When the structure was ready, the boy would pull thick, leather-bound volumes from his parents' library and hide with them in his tent. He couldn't read yet, but he didn't choose books at random. He only took those that looked the most mysterious. He could sit in the tent for hours. His parents often asked him what he was doing there. He would then reply:

- I want to see the Mole.

"Do you know what a mole is? Do you want to see a mole in town?" the mother asked irritably.

The boy's responses, which irritated his mother, intrigued his siblings. Teoś arranged with his brothers and sisters to show them Mole while their parents were away. Shortly thereafter, the children's parents went to the theater, leaving them in the care of a teenage nanny. As soon as they left, all the children, who had been informed of Teoś's plan, appeared in the living room. That evening, a much larger tent than usual was erected. So large that all the young participants could comfortably fit inside.

The children entered the tent and froze in anticipation. It was bitterly cold outside, so the tiled stove in the corner was blazing. Suddenly, loud bangs and crackling noises began to come from there. The nurse tried to turn down the heat, but as the sounds grew louder, she couldn't even move. Except for Teoś, everyone was frozen in terror.

Teoś, as if nothing had happened, climbed out of the tent and went to the stove. The lamp illuminating the living room went out.

Streaks of blue mist began to emerge from the furnace,

which wrapped around the boy, covering the entire living room.

A piercing scream escaped the children's lips. Teoś's words calmed them only slightly:

- It's Kret, yes Kret comes, we are waiting for him.

When the boy returned to the tent, the children surrounded him with a wreath. The rustle of footsteps could be heard in the room. The broken clock that had been hanging on the wall for years began to chime.

Teoś spoke with a strangely changed voice:

"The road leading to the Mole is very long; you have to squeeze through long, narrow corridors, then stop and wait until the darkness clears; only then does it become easier. Children who die are buried in the ground precisely so they can get to the Mole more easily."

During séances, ectoplasm emanated from Modrzejewski's body, taking the shapes of people, objects, or animals. On August 30, 1919, the apparition of a bird of prey appeared.

The entire living room was pitch dark, but the tent was illuminated by a blue glow. Slowly, shapes began to emerge. The children recognized them as their deceased siblings. The figures of the deceased children began to fade before they became fully distinct. In their place, a luminous crack appeared. Through it, they could see a series of rooms and corridors illuminated by a brilliant light. Within the rooms floated transparent people, radiating from within. The children watched with rapt eyes. Each child felt as if they had been there before. A few, eager to see more, tried to enlarge the crack with their hands. But the crack began to tear and twist, then dissolved into a blue mist, like a windblown gossamer. A dog barked. Their parents entered the house.

"Mom, Dad, we saw the Mole!" the children called out in greeting. Their parents were furious. It was almost midnight, and the whole house was still awake. They quickly sent the children to bed and reprimanded their nanny.

The next day, they strictly forbade Teoś from playing tent-building. They also forbade him from even mentioning the mole. Despite this, the boy didn't give up his expeditions to the kingdom of Mole. He just found another way. He learned to leave his own body.

Each such expedition cost him a great deal of effort, but he couldn't give them up. It always began the same way.

He felt as if he was drowning and suffocating.

Finally, to his great relief, he emerged from his body.

He found a luminous streak and passed through it to the other side, beneath the world's underbelly, as he called the kingdom of Crete. Upon his return, he felt deeply uncomfortable in his body. It didn't fit him, like poorly tailored pajamas. He knew he would suffer greatly before he could fully unite with it... But that moment had to come sooner or later. Thinking about it made him cry. He understood that this would mean the end of his journeys.

Over time, Teoś's trips to the Kingdom of the Dead became less frequent. Eventually, they ceased altogether. Only years later, as a mature man, did he again begin to meet with the denizens of the underworld. This time, he didn't go to them, but they to him.

Modrzejewski's extraordinary abilities were discovered purely by accident. In late 1918, by a strange coincidence, he found himself at a spiritualistic séance with the famous medium Jan Guzik. The séance had to be quickly interrupted because Guzik was in a hurry. Disappointed by this turn of events, the audience decided to continue the séance without the medium. It worked. Supernatural phenomena occurred with the same intensity as before Guzik's departure. It quickly became clear to those present that they had Modrzejewski to thank for this. Shortly thereafter, he adopted the pseudonym Franek Kluski.

Kluski was a very hard-working and dedicated medium. He regularly attended spiritualistic séances and collaborated with the most prominent paranormal investigators of the time. This brought him many new, loyal friends, but it didn't increase his income. Kluski never used his supernatural abilities to make money. This only served to further strengthen his reputation. A total of 243 apparitions and apparitions were recorded at séances he attended. Many of these were photographed. Even more were immortalized in paraffin casts of fragments of their bodies, a trademark of Kluski, who was considered the master of masters among mediums who materialized spirits. Around 400 people witnessed these experiments. None of them questioned Kluski's honesty. Not even someone with as insightful and critical a mind as Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński did.

Boy and Kluski worked in the same editorial office. Electrical outages occurred more frequently there than anywhere else. Despite these minor inconveniences to which the medium's editorial colleagues were exposed, Boy became close friends with him. He even considered this acquaintance an honor. Boy attended a séance organized by Kluski on February 21, 1924. Seven invited guests arrived. When everyone arrived, a cauldron of melted paraffin and a small red lamp appeared on the table. The lights were turned off, the attendees removed their jackets, and sat down in a circle at the table. The medium fell asleep. After a few minutes, twinkling floating lights appeared. The red lamp went out. As time passed, more and more lights appeared. Hanging low above the table, they spread a discreet mist around them. The air smelled of ozone. Boy felt the touch of an invisible hand. Someone squeezed his fingers.

A moment later he had them covered with paraffin.

Paraffin casts of astral hands appeared on the table.

Meanwhile, a large, luminous disc, like a full moon, emerged from among the floating lights. It hovered near the ceiling, then circled above the heads of those gathered. In its light, a man's head appeared, wearing a military cap with a lieutenant's insignia. Boy turned to the apparition, "Pet me," then asked:

"Kiss." The apparition readily fulfilled both whims. After the lieutenant's apparition came the ghost of the Italian national hero, Battisti. A typical Italian face with a beard in the nineteenth-century fashion. Boy even managed to get a little dirty with him in Italian. The scent of wild roses was growing in the air. The séance was slowly coming to an end. Kluski raised his eyes and asked, "What happened?" He was still unconscious. A moment later, he asked the same question again. His eyes were dull and his face was swollen. He took out a handkerchief and pressed it to his face. He began coughing convulsively. The entire handkerchief was soaked in blood.

"Whoever saw him in this state would certainly not have thought that this man was inviting us just to organize a hoax at our expense! There can be no doubt for a moment, we are in the presence of a miraculous property," wrote Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński in "Kurier Poranny" in his report from the séance with Kluski, titled "An Hour in Wonderland."