Reading Time: 18 minutesIn the hush of Savannah’s candlelit parlors, whispers echoed from beyond. Hands trembling, hearts aching, mourners sat united by grief, seeking solace through Spiritualism. Behind elegant facades, séances were not mere entertainment; they were lifelines for souls shattered by war and disease. Through the gaslight’s flicker, a mother strained to hear her lost child’s voice, while a brother hoped for reassurance from the battlefield’s ghostly echoes. Here, beneath the shadowed gaze of Victorian decor, the living reached desperately toward the dead, embracing a fragile communion in the uncertain darkness.
