A Different Kind Of Psychic: Being A Medical Intuitive
In human culture, when people are unique in some way; very talented, attractive, very famous, very rich and/or successful, people react to them rather differently than they do to normal people. This quality of humanity is what makes celebrities out of singers, actors, directors, artists, athletes, etc. Some writers are even looked upon as celebrities by those who really admire their work and follow it.
However, if what makes you unique is outside the boundaries of what makes other people unique as stated above, people may not beat a path to your door or listen to what you have to say. In point of fact, they may run away in sheer terror. At first, some might find you interesting, distinctive, intriguing, fascinating and appealing, until reality sets in, and then they run for the hills. (See end of article for something even stranger)
What would you do if you awoke tomorrow morning and suddenly had a super power that none of your friends or family possessed? No, you cannot fly, nor are you invulnerable and do not possess super strength. This super power is far subtler in nature.
Would you tell your family and friends about it? Would you demonstrate it to them? Would you risk being called weird or crazy? And what if you eventually disclosed and demonstrated your ability to those around you and they literally ran away out of fear that you were either psychotic or inhuman? Then what? Well, as weird as this all sounds, I’ve actually lived with this exact problem ever since I was a very young child.
How many of you saw the Man of Steel movie last summer? How many of you remember the scenes where young Clark Kent suddenly develops his X-ray vision while at school?
Well, I identified quite strongly with those scenes in Man of Steel, for I really did develop a rudimentary form of X-ray vision when I was very young, almost identical to the way it was depicted on-screen in the film, except I didn’t run off to hide in a closet and it was in full color as opposed to blue/sepia-tinted. But it definitely has served to get me into trouble every so often. In fact, there was a fascinating TV commercial for AXE “Bullet” men’s body spray that aired back in 2008 which featured a young man who was able to spontaneously peer through the outer clothing garments of women with ease. Wow, did that bring back memories, as well as reminding me of some incredibly cool, electronic, instrumental music from The Seeds (Can’t Seem To Make You Mine) dating back to 1966.
I remember how it all started for me back at around eight or nine years old, where I’d suddenly be looking at someone and could literally see inside their body as if it were made of glass. Thinking it was really interesting; I never really did anything to verify what it was I was seeing. But that all changed a year or so later.
In the 5th grade at the age of ten, there were sporadic, but tantalizing episodes where it appeared that I could voluntarily look into and through people’s bodies, like a 3-D color X-ray. I was way too cautious to ask anyone what it was I was actually seeing, so I naturally assumed that everyone could do what I could. But that all came to a head in short order.
It was during recess in elementary school while playing some silly game in the courtyard that a blond, blue-eyed girl named Christine started walking towards me. While looking in her direction my vision somewhat blurred for an instant and suddenly I could clearly see that beneath Christine’s sky blue dress was a large plastic bag attached to her side with a plastic tube running into her body. What was I seeing? I’d never seen anything like that before?
Naturally, I walked over to Christine to ask her what the bag and tube under her dress were for. Christine turned beet red and began screaming, while she ran back into the school building to find our teacher. It turned out that Christine had a colostomy and the bag and its tube were there for that reason. But as a ten-year-old kid, who knew nothing about medicine, how could I understand what this was?
I was immediately dragged into the principal’s office in order to be chastised for either sneaking into the girl’s bathroom or somehow peering under Christine’s dress. When I informed the principal that my X-ray vision suddenly turned itself on, he looked at like I was totally out of my mind. He sternly warned me that my actions could get me suspended or even expelled from the school and put in jail.
As I was looking at the principal, I noticed that he had an appendectomy scar that never healed that well, I immediately informed him of this. He stopped screaming at me and turned ashen white. What I saw was a keloid, which I’d never heard of at the tender young age of ten.
The principal immediately called my parents in an effort to determine what the hell was going on. All that my parents said in response to his questions were; “Yes, he can do that, but don’t ask anymore questions because we don’t understand it either and we simply choose to ignore it.”
With that, the principal once again sternly warned me that if another episode like this were to occur, I would be expelled from school and very likely arrested. And while there were future episodes of my spontaneously turning itself on, I wisely never spoke of it again while at school.
It was now 1962 and I was in Junior High School when another aspect of my medical intuitive ability surfaced, one that literally knocked me off my feet.
Whenever a certain girl named Helene got within ten feet of me, I became very dizzy, light-headed and lost consciousness. There were several occasions where I wasn’t even aware that Helene was approaching me from behind, yet still I passed out. As a thirteen-year-old, I wasn’t even aware of the fact that Helene was epileptic. Nor would I have even understood what such a condition involved medically. The school administrators and my parents were of course concerned that I might be ill as well as Helene. Fortunately, I was not.
When I first started working with Dr. Thelma Moss in 1969 at UCLA’s former parapsychology lab there was a young female research assistant named Alice who worked with her. What was odd was that every time I was near Alice I’d start feeling nauseous, dizzy and light-headed, the same way I did around Helene years earlier. What shock, I discovered that Alice was epileptic. Needless to say, I kept my distance from Alice.
In fact, the formal, scientific study done on me by the late Thelma Moss, Ph.D., Herbert H. Eveloff, M.D. and Alice Chang. M.A., “A Laboratory Investigation of Telepathy: The Study of A Psychic”, published in Behavioral Neuropsychiatry, Vol. 6, Numbers 1-12, pp. 71-80, April-December 1974—January-March 1975, showed clear and present evidence of my ability to remotely perceive what other people were physically feeling from quite a distance. Moreover, there were recurring and very tantalizing telepathic as well as precognitive informational access displayed by me in this study. Okay, so I’m psychic, then what?
It was extremely difficult for Drs. Moss and Eveloff to even find a peer-reviewed journal that would publish this study, as its results were a just a little too good for most to believe, which is why it took so long for it to be put into print.
Moreover, the neurophysiological data collected on me over the course of the study was so anomalous shall we say, (several EEG recordings on different dynagraphs averaged around 1,000 microvolts at 10 Hz., where normal is below 100 microvolts at around 12-20 Hz.) that even the aforementioned, publishing journal automatically assumed that the instrumentation used to collect such data must have been malfunctioning and in need of repair, which meant that the results were, at best, artifactual, and as such, they refused to publish that specific portion of the study.
Jumping forward in time to 1972, I was attending a rather posh dinner party in Hollywood and met a gentleman who was slightly older than myself by the name of David, who was interested in the research I was doing. When I shook his hand upon meeting, I was suddenly aware that David had a rheumatic heart condition, as I could feel my heart felt as if it suddenly started beating in an arrhythmic manner. I asked David if my perception was accurate, and he confirmed it. Needless to say, I sat nowhere near him for the rest of my time at the party.
It was now 1973 and I had been working in Dr. Thelma Moss’s parapsychology lab for several years. Visiting one of the lecture seminars the lab was giving was a beautiful 21 year-old co-ed named Carol. With pitch-black hair and large, bright blue eyes, Carol reminded me of a short, Shirley MacLaine. One thing led to another and we were eventually dating. It was a great, perfect relationship in every way. But fate had it’s own plan to short-circuit this romance.
About a month or so into the relationship, Carol and I were talking when I visually noticed that there was a small tumor in (not on) Carol’s left breast and I informed her of such. She looked at me and very nervously said “What? What are you talking about?” “What tumor, where’s a tumor?” I looked at her pointing to exactly where the tumor was within her left breast and that it was benign. Carol worryingly replied, “How can you see a tumor inside me, what are you talking about, and how do you know it’s benign?” I said that it didn’t have any calcium around it, so it must be benign. She looked at me as though I was playing some kind of weird, sick joke on her, which I was not. The matter was soon forgotten, until………….
Not long thereafter, when Carol finished her degree at UCLA, she got a job working for IBM and was given a full medical work up for her medical insurance benefits. When the results of that workup came in, Carol went ballistic, as it revealed that she did indeed have a tumor exactly where I saw it to be and after a biopsy, it thankfully was determined to be benign.
As good as this news was, the bad news was that it validated what I told her some months earlier and Carol was very concerned and upset with what I was able to do. Carol was terrified, as she now felt like she could have no secrets from me and that she would be nothing but a piece of glass around me (which in reality she was). She couldn’t face the idea of coming home from work to greet me always wondering what little tidbit of knowledge about her inner self I might divulge at that moment. Therein ended my relationship with Carol. I thought I was trying to help her, but for some, such information (that they cannot control) is, in and of itself, very unnerving.
A few years later my mother approached me with a skeptical tone asking if I could psychically diagnose what was wrong with my father, her husband. I first asked my mother if his problem was visually discernible, and she said no, it was not. So I told her that I would do it.
I sat down next to my father on the couch and did my thing. Immediately, I said that he was suffering from a hernia in his groin region. Both my parents turned a little white and acknowledged that I was correct, but then my mother said that I must have guessed as to what it was. I guessed? I only said one thing and it was correct. I did not mention or reference any other kind of medical problem my father might have had. That was the last time my parents asked me to do such.
In the mid-1970’s I appeared on “Psychic Wonders with Christine Lund” on KABC-TV News for a week straight, where I diagnosed a different journalist each day for seven consecutive days. The results were normal for me, where I was easily able to discern what was medically wrong with each newscaster on each day (recorded in advance).
However, what wasn’t normal for me was the utter lack of response from anyone, that is, no phone calls or letters to the old UCLA parapsychology lab regarding what I did. It was somewhat odd, in that I expected there to be some type of reaction other than the lack of one.
No wait, there was one reaction, and that was from my parents, who were extremely embarrassed by my appearance on KABC News, and their friends who also saw me on the news and simply assumed I was nuts, which they already believed. Perhaps the lack of public response was because I didn’t spew the normal crap of exclaiming that what I was doing was the result of my channeling of some long dead physician. The only reaction I ever really learned about other than what’s just been stated, was that UCLA,, it’s medical center and the old Neuropyschiatric Institute where our lab was located, had a very negative reaction which was part of the lab’s demise. For more on this matter, go to another blog on this site entitled “Legacy’s End”, which is all about our old lab in some detail.
In 1983 a good friend of mine, filmmaker Jose Escamilla, set me up on a blind date with a beautiful girl named Jodie. She was stunning, looking very much like Jane Badler, one of the evil alien leaders from the original “V” TV series from 1983. In fact, when we were dating, people would come up to her asking for her autograph as they thought she was Jane Badler.
So Jodie and I are having dinner at a restaurant in Sherman Oaks within the San Fernando Valley, and she eventually says “Jose said you were psychic, what kind of things can you do to prove such to me right now?” My response was short and direct; “I can medically diagnose you if you’re interested?” Jodie skeptically told me to go for it.
After a couple of minutes of focusing, I told Jodie that she had several problems. The first was that she suffered from upper gastrointestinal disorder, a follicular cyst on her left ovary and endometriosis (a sloughing off of the intrauterine lining). Jodie simply looked at me shaking her head, as nothing I had just said meant anything to her. I strongly suggested that she go to see her OBGYN and get checked out, which she eventually did.
Jodie got back to me some time later and verified everything I told her about her body. Her OBGYN was of course very curious as to how I could tell her such things upon just meeting her. He asked me if I was an MD and I said no, but I know a great deal about medicine due to my degree in psychophysiology.
I tried explaining what it is I do to him and he was very skeptical about it (what else is new?) and insecure, as he spent all that time in medical school and in practice to have someone like me come along and do what MD’s and tests normally do, but in seconds and totally non-invasive.
While my medical disclosures to Jodie did not end our relationship, her eventually becoming anorexic and bulimic eventually did. Sad, as we did get along so very well and my being a medical intuitive didn’t seem to drive her away from me at all. Her emotional problems and GI disorders did.
In early 1992 I met a stunning girl named Judy through common friends and we began dating. Judy bore a striking resemblance to a shorter version of the actress Joan Severance.
Everything was fine until I started sensing that her health took a rapid nose-dive. When I was around Judy I started feeling that her heart had a prolapsed mytral valve, that her upper lungs were starting to become impaired and that early menopause had started. When I mentioned this to Judy, she was totally unaware of what was going on, but as she starting to feel kind of weak and sick most of the time, so she went to get a full checkup.
After visiting her physician, Judy discovered that my diagnosis was indeed correct, and therein ended the relationship as I was feeling her symptoms as if they were my own, and she had become way too ill to even think about being involved with anyone.
In 1994 I was hired to do some engineering tech writing for the development of an early form of photonic computing system and ancillary elements. I met the owners of the company and the engineer they were already working with, a man in his mid-thirties named Mark.
As I approached Mark to shake his hand I once again felt disoriented and light-headed, as if I were about to pass out. When I shook his hand, I almost passed out. What a surprise, Mark’s was epileptic. During the course of our working together I made it a point to stay at least ten feet away from at all times.
In the spring of 1999, an old girlfriend named Linda just dropped in on me after more than fifteen years. She looked fantastic, as if she hadn’t aged at all. No lines, no wrinkles, no fat. While we were talking outside I clearly saw what looked like a giant jellyfish all over Linda’s upper chest. She was wearing a halter-top, as it was quite warm, therefore her upper chest was exposed. While moving slightly closer to her I started to ask what that was on her chest, but then I understood that it wasn’t on her chest, it was within it………..breast cancer.
Immediately, I told Linda to go and have some mammograms done to find out what was going on with her chest. Even though Linda knew me from about 1974 and was well aware if what I do, she chose to either ignore my comments or simply not respond.
Several months later Linda called to inform me that she did have mammograms done and revealed the both her breasts were riddled with tumors. She had a double mastectomy and reconstructive surgery as a result.
It was summer 2008 and I was attending a screening of The Dark Knight at the Director’s Guild Theater on Sunset Blvd. in West Hollywood. I was meeting a longtime friend there I knew from back in the mid-1970’s at UCLA. The fact that we drove separately to the event was going to be a significant part of the evening’s events.
Loren and I met inside, we were soon seated, and shortly thereafter the movie began. I was deeply involved in what was on the screen, but suddenly I was distracted by sharp, burning and cramping pains in my bladder. What was going on? I’ve never had any problems with my bladder before.
Within a matter of minutes, Loren received an emergency cell phone call from her daughter and had to leave the screening, while I stayed behind. Before she left, I asked Loren if she needed my assistance in the matter and she said it wasn’t necessary.
Most interestingly, once Loren had gone, so was the pain coming from my bladder. How odd. It wasn’t until the next day when I spoke with Loren that I learned that she had a really bad bladder infection at the time as I was sitting right next to her, and as we’d been out of contact with each other for more than 25 years, she had no way of knowing about my sensitivity to such medical matters.
I guess that in the future I should ask people I’m with if they’re experiencing any medical problems before even sitting down next to them in the theater, as some years earlier while attending a movie in Century City, I started feeling pain in my right kidney for no apparent reason while sitting next to a total stranger and asked the friend sitting on my right if it was his problem. It was not, but the man, a total stranger, sitting to my left overheard me and commented that he was having problems in this right kidney. OMG!
Fourth of July weekend of 2013, and one my friends and colleagues was in town and wanted to introduce me to his new girlfriend and her children. I knew nothing of Susan or her kids, but that was all about to change as my friend had asked me to do a medical intuitive reading on them.
Upon looking at Susan’s 8-year-old son, I saw what was probably the most unusual image I’ve ever seen in my many years of doing such readings. Put very bluntly, it appeared that the frontal lobes of his brain were simply missing, as the space was completely dark and vacant. It was almost as if a balloon had deflated within the boy’s head, leaving that part of his skull empty. What the?
It turns out that Susan’s son has cortical encephalopathy (cortical encephalitis), wherein the disease totally atrophied and then destroyed his frontal lobes, exactly what I saw with my most interesting vision. His mother didn’t even know what to say to me, except to ask my colleague whether or not he informed me as to her son’s condition, which he did not.
I then moved my head and began looking at Susan and beheld an equally disturbing site. Susan’s lungs looked like really old, dark brown paper bags with large black spots throughout them. As I was having difficulty breathing, it was evident to me that Susan had been a very heavy smoker, but that she also suffered from COPD. Susan nodded her head in confirmation.
My problem is that I cannot turn this ability off, and believe me I’ve tried. I can turn it on with great ease and use it until the cows come home, but I cannot prevent it from functioning in that I will often feel it, even if I do not see it with my X-ray vision.
Back in 1980, I met an attractive girl named Sheila while teaching parapsychology at Beverly Hills High School Adult Education. She invited me to dinner at her house in West Los Angeles.
Instead of sitting directly across from her at her table, I was seated immediately to her right but on the table’s thin edge. After eating, I happened to glance towards her and noticed that she was wearing some kind of jeans, but I also was able to see that she had really strange pigmentation on the skin of her thighs, even though her jeans were full length, so I casually mentioned it her without giving it a second’s thought. Sheila turned beet-red, immediately stood up at the table, ordering me to leave, which I did. Oh well, I was only 31 years old back then and still hadn’t learned to sometimes bite my own tongue.
In 2006, while getting my yearly physical checkup at my internist’s office, I once again did what I did above without giving my words a second thought. When the doctor approached me to take my blood pressure, the first thing out of my mouth was to ask if he’s having problems with his lumbar region. I then said that he’s been having upper respiratory problems as well. That was followed, by my asking him if he was about to retire soon. His eyes grew quite large in response to my comments. But then came the clincher. I asked him if he drove a black on black Lexus SC 430.
My physician was dumbstruck as he knew nothing about me other than my medical condition and that I was was kind of stoic and unemotional. However, he confirmed my diagnosis of him and the fact that he did drive the exact car I had just mentioned. He immediately left the room as if I had shot him in the ass with a BB gun, and asked one of his associates in the office to finish examining me. He retired shortly thereafter.
On Thursday, May 8th of this year, I met a young lady for lunch that I hadn’t seen in more than a year. I originally met this woman at the 2012 Auto Show in Los Angeles, where she was working as a model promoting some automotive product. We had only met on one other occasion in 2013, and I knew almost nothing about her or her personal life. That was all about to change very suddenly though.
Upon meeting, we hugged for a moment, and my head suddenly felt like it was about to explode, horrible global pressure throughout my skull. When we let go of each other and moved apart, the pain somewhat diminished. We sat down to order our lunch and then she came over to my side of the booth to show me photos of her son and their cats. The instant she was right next to me, the pressure and pain in my head started once again, and this time, it felt like I was going to either throw up or lose consciousness. But I didn’t, as she moved back to her side of the booth. What was this? This girl was less than half my age and looked perfectly healthy.
While we’re eating and talking, I suddenly felt like I’m experiencing hypothermia as I started shivering very intensely. Why was I shivering? The restaurant was not cold or hot, and I was wearing a light jacket. The shivering persisted as the sense of bodily hypothermia grew even stronger. The girl was looking at me rather oddly, for she had no idea as what was going on, and neither did I. After this painful and hypothermic onslaught, we both agreed that it was best to end our lunch immediately. Foolishly, we again hugged before leaving each other, and this time, the cerebral pain was excruciating and I immediately pulled away from the woman. Once I moved a considerable distance away from her and was back in my car, I felt fine.
Several hours later, I discovered why I had felt what I did when near this beautiful woman. Where to begin?
Apparently, she’s suffered crippling, chronic migraines since the age of ten (she’s now 28), which often caused her to throw up and black out. She also has chronic insomnia as well as a strange form of hypothermia where her extremities, hands and feet, are always ice cold to the touch, and often, her entire body is equally frostbitten as she describes it. The only time in her life when her migraines, insomnia and hypothermia vanished, was when she was pregnant with her son.
Well, needless to say, I will never be in the immediate presence of this young woman again. And as insane as all this is, if we had become romantically involved, despite our age difference, I might have very likely died being that close to her physically for any length of time. I suspect that no medical examiner would have been able precisely determine what caused me to suddenly die while making love. The whole damn thing is downright frightening the way my body reacts to the presence of physically ill individuals.
Okay, so we’re all aware of the fact that I can do things that most other people can’t? Why and how? Those are the real questions.
I’ve heard of a few other people who can do pretty much the same thing that I do, with some differences.
However, I have only met one of person in my life who is a true medical intuitive. His name is Jack Rourke (jackrourke.net), and has been my friend and colleague since early 2007. I’ve seen his incredible ability at work, and it’s truly remarkable for a man as young, normal and grounded as he is.
Can people be taught to do this particular thing? I haven’t the foggiest idea, although I knew from my own research that some people have a higher level of inherent psychic potential that can be honed to a fine point with the proper training and the use of positive reinforcement and feedback. This is discussed in detail in another blog on this site, “Learned Psi: Training To Be Psychic”.
Bottom line here is that everyone’s mind goes after different types or kinds of information that it’s subconscious and unconscious find meaningful and relevant. It’s hard to re-condition a mind once it has learned to seek out and search for information that is very need relevant to its emotional wants and desires.
So if any of you have desires to be different in this sort of way, you’d better give it a second, third and fourth thought, as it could turn many people away from you for all the wrong reasons.
A final example of just how odd this type of life can be is, the response I recently received from a well-known, New Age guru in Malibu. He asked a good friend of mine, a writer and producer who’s known me for forty-one years, if I do any kind of readings. My friend told the guru that I only do medical intuitive readings and criminal readings (as I really hate it when people prey upon others in any way).
The guru’s response was quite telling, “Oh no, nothing that serious, never, that will scare the hell of out people.” The only type of readings this guru wanted me to do were ones that dealt with relationships and closing big business deals. My response was “Who cares? I’m trying to improve people’s lives by keeping them physically healthy and preventing them from being harmed by criminals.”
Oh well, each to their own.
What you’ve just read is but a very small tip of an extremely large iceberg.
And in the end, one question remains.
Why did I develop this type of ability that is so precisely honed?
P.S. If you think that possessing certain volitional paranormal abilities might somewhat unnerve and frighten others, just wait until you read my newest blog entitled “Retroactive Terror: Your Past Will Come Back To Haunt You”, published elsewhere on this site early 2015. There’s an even more potentially disruptive aspect of being involved with the paranormal for a very long time. This problem can quite easily end your very existence without directly killing you. What you’re going to learn is far more life threatening than anything you’ve ever read about before.
The Holly Mont Haunting: As Good As It Gets
Excerpted from chapter one of Aliens Above, Ghosts Below: Explorations of the Unknown
When one of your cases finds its way into the National Enquirer or onto the front page of the View Section of the Los Angeles Times, you generally know that one or both of two things have occurred.
Either the case was unique enough to attract the attention of the press and tabloid media or, you’ve made a serious error in judgment by allowing yourself to be interviewed by them. In a case that began in the late spring of 1976, both of these reasons can be cited as true. In view of the manner in which the case was reported in both papers, I should have exercised better judgment and more caution as neither publication came close to accurately reporting what actually transpired.
Strangely enough, the greater of the two evils here was not the National Enquirer, who, we were aware, grossly misrepresented their stories, especially about the paranormal. In this case the venerable Los Angeles Times did a much worse job.
Contrary to what most people believe, there really is not much difference in the sensationalistic style of journalism practiced by either publication. They distort, slant, embellish, exaggerate and frequently misinform their readers about subjects they consider to be less than credible. The resulting campy, tongue-in-cheek article was not just unprofessional, it was downright rude and disrespectful.
Over the last forty years, most cases have come to my attention via conventional means, e.g., word-of-mouth, occasional appearances on local TV talk shows, teaching, lecturing, or random calls coming to UCLA’s former parapsychology lab. However, this all changed in May of 1976 as a young undergraduate student came storming into the lab in shock over what had transpired at a party on the previous night.
Mark was quite excited to share all of the incredible events he had witnessed just hours earlier, especially since he found the entire matter difficult, if not impossible, to believe. Once I was able to slow down his rate of speech, he attempted to coherently discuss the barrage of paranormal events during the all-too-brief party.
As Mark’s story initially was nothing more than the ramblings of a very frenetic young adult, I tried to get him to start from the very beginning so I would have some perspective in the matter, rather than attempt to sort and collate a series of divergent events. When Mark understood what I needed to actually begin investigating his experience, he started describing the location of a large, three-story house on Hollymont Drive in the Hollywood Hills.
While at the party, Mark and several of his friends witnessed some of the most amazing things they had ever seen. When the owner of the house, a banker named Don Jolly, first moved in, he immediately hired a houseboy to clean and do the cooking. Shortly thereafter, the houseboy began telling Jolly of strange events that really unnerved him.
Objects were rapidly moved from one room to another, and enigmatic shadows and apparitions were seen out of the corner of his eye. The frequency and magnitude of these events escalated to such a degree that the houseboy seriously considered quitting rather than putting up with any more of the bizarre phenomena.
According to Mark, during the party, many loose objects began flying about the house. At one point after a young woman entered the house, a large throne chair suddenly moved under its own power across the room pinning her against the wall of the living room directly in front of other guests. This was followed an instant later by a kettle flying in from the kitchen stove which quite deliberately dumped its water over the girl’s head. Later that evening, the houseboy was chased around the house by a cabbage with a huge butcher knife stuck in it. It was this particular event that finally caused the houseboy to abruptly quit his job.
Needless to say, these stories were more than sufficient to arouse my interest and desire to attend yet another party to be held at the same house the next evening. I figured that the worst-case scenario would be one where I would speak to some interesting individuals who were first-hand witnesses to the previous party’s events. It also presented the opportunity to personally observe, if not record, some astounding phenomena. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that this possibly embellished story would turn into one of the most incredible cases in my files suggesting discarnate intelligence.
The next evening, my colleague and I went to the house to attend the party. The area of Hollywood where the house is located was not exactly known for its beauty or safety. In fact, it was noted mostly for its high crime rate and drug trafficking. As such, I was far more concerned about the threat from burglars, muggers and flying lead than belligerent ghosts.
While at the house, we did have the opportunity to observe some of the most astounding psychokinetic displays we had ever seen. On several occasions, numerous books would take off from their resting place, fly madly about the house and abruptly drop to the floor. A telephone left its secure position on a stand and then flew over Don Jolly’s shoulder in my direction, as did a large glass jar.
The most humorous event occurred while several of us stood in the foyer directly at the entrance to the house. In the middle of us was a large wrought-iron chandelier. As we continued to speak, I commented that I was very hungry. Within seconds, a large clump of bananas came flying across our path landing at my feet. I bent down to pick them up and noticed that they were rather cold to the touch.
Their exact source could not be determined even after checking out the kitchen where they supposedly originated. We eventually returned to the foyer to continue our conversation [that was about the only really vacant room in the house where a conversation could be heard given the party’s boisterous nature].
Suddenly, the front doorbell began ringing relentlessly, as if some madman outside was seeking entrance. When we examined the doorbell, we were shocked to discover that it was disconnected from the house’s power as its wires were completely frayed and rotted, incapable of carrying even the minimal household voltage or current. What then caused the doorbell to ring? Or more precisely, what allowed it to ring?
After some background research, we discovered that the Hollymont house had a rather sordid background. Two murders and one suicide had occurred there over the last fifty years. These historical tidbits combined with the fact that both Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck once lived there, contributed to its celebrity atmosphere.
After talking at length with Don Jolly, we discovered that the apparition of a young female had repeatedly been seen by both workers in the house, as well as Jolly himself. We also learned that Jolly was a part-time minister and had a small chapel set up on the second floor. This seemed a little suspicious and made me wonder whether we might be dealing with a religious zealot. By about 11:30 P.M., the house finally settled down and we decided to leave.
We were not able to return until about ten days later on May 14, 1976, at which time we were accompanied by a news crew headed by Connie Fox from local Los Angeles television station, KTTV [which coincidentally became part of the Fox Network (no relation to Connie].
On this particular visit, we experienced more sustained phenomena in a finite period of time than in any case before or since. Due to the detailed nature of the recurring phenomena, it is easier to list them in an itemized manner.
• We arrived about 6:30 P.M. and at one point we all were in the dining room. Suddenly an ice tray came flying out of the kitchen and soared across the dining room into the west wall.
• Shortly thereafter, a large sack of cloth napkins flew out of the kitchen (which was empty) and struck silverware in the dining room directly in front of Connie Fox.
• A pewter goblet flew out of the kitchen storage area and impacted the west wall of the dining room.
• A religious vestment [metal cylinder] disappeared from the upstairs chapel and appeared outside in front of the house dropping in open air.
• A large world atlas suddenly appeared flying in front of the house and literally chased a screaming and terrified Connie Fox down the front Z-shaped stairway, making three distinct ninety degree turns (changes of direction) in doing so. All the while, the atlas was flapping its pages as though it was a bird in flight.
• When one of my friends laughingly commented on the above event, an old shoe flew around the outside of the house and struck him on the side of the head.
• While in the pantry area between the dining room and kitchen with Jolly, showers of coins, primarily pennies and dimes, fell from the ceiling, pelting us. These thousands of coins appeared to fall from the empty air.
• While several members of the crew and I stood in the foyer discussing these occurrences, a large black robe apported itself onto the massive wrought iron chandelier positioned immediately above and between all of us. One instant the chandelier was empty, in the next the robe appeared out of thin air. When examined, it was discovered that the robe was intricately wrapped around the workings of the light fixture requiring several minutes with a stepladder to remove.
• We learned that Jolly had invited a local Bishop over to the house to bless it. Shortly after the Bishop entered the house, his hat disappeared off the top of his head and was later found lying on an inaccessible part of the roof.
• A large shower head from the main upstairs bathroom came flying down into the living room under its own power. It somehow managed to miss the more than fifteen (15) individuals present in the room at the time.
• Several sharp and loud explosive sounds came from the hallway. Investigation could not determine their source.
• When the Bishop attempted to bless the house using his Holy Water scepter, the top explosively blew off its base and flew around the room.
• Coasters from the dining room table took off and flew into the living room.
• Several keys came flying down the stairway although no one was upstairs.
• Several chairs in the dining room changed locations.
• A thick chain and padlock suddenly appeared around the front door and gate, essentially locking everyone in the house.
• A fire broke out upstairs in one of the wastepaper baskets in the bathroom.
• A telephone, several large jars, and a large book were observed to fly across various rooms.
• Electrical power in the house was turned on and off repeatedly during our visit that evening. Checking out the fuse box provided no clue, as it had not been tampered with. Whatever force was accomplishing this feat could selectively negate the power along specific circuits whenever the TV news crew attempted to use the AC lines in the house. The power to those lines was cut off while other lines were left unaffected.
• Even the battery-powered equipment refused to function while in the house. Also affected was the street lamp directly in front of the house that began blinking erratically. However, the rest of the block’s street lamps were not affected.
So ended our first full night of investigating the house. All that remained was for us to return and continue our work on another day.
Due to very fortunate circumstances, we actually were able to temporarily live in this house—-a parapsychologist’s dream. What made this case even more interesting was that both my colleague and I lived less than ten minutes away, almost in our backyard.
We formally took up residence on August 2, 1976. What follows is a chronology of events that transpired over the next nine days.
August 3 11:58 P.M. Stove turned itself off and pulled away from the wall. Library door unlocked itself. Master bedroom door locked and unlocked itself. After putting down a glass of iced tea on the kitchen counter, I went to the refrigerator in search of more lemon. Returning to the counter, the glass of tea was gone and was later found in the library three rooms away behind a door that I had locked the evening before.
August 4 12:20 A.M. Library door unlocked itself again.
August 5 10:40 P.M. Bar door on dining room side locked itself from the inside by throwing dead bolt.
11:57 P.M. Something approached the master bedroom door, grabbed and jiggled the knob, then turned it to the right. Opening door revealed nothing. Large chair was moved 5 feet and turned around while I was out of the bedroom for not more than 3 minutes.
August 6 2:40 A.M. I was awakened in the downstairs bedroom by sounds of someone walking around the kitchen and lower portion of house. Investigation revealed nothing.
9:45 A.M. While sitting on couch in living room, I heard the sounds and sensation of someone walking down the stairway and up behind me accompanied by a strong, sweet perfumed smell. No one was there.
4:45 P.M. While talking on a newly installed telephone, the jack pulled itself out of the wall and threw itself over a chair, pulling the 25 foot cord along with it.
August 7 2:30 P.M. While attempting to make repairs to the upstairs bathroom shower, a large tool box that I had just brought upstairs was apported from the floor next to me back downstairs kitchen drawer where it was originally located. My attention was taken off the tools box for not more than 15 seconds while removing old shower handles. Upon turning around, the toolbox was gone.
The sound of someone walking around the house was heard throughout the entire day.
9:45 P.M. While talking to a friend on the kitchen telephone, I observed a dark humanoid form cross my visual path in the dining room area. No salient features or characteristics were distinguishable, nor could gender be determined. The dark form was observed through the open pantry storage area separating the dining room and kitchen. Friends sitting in the living room at the time thought they heard the sounds of someone walking in the dining room but assumed it was me.
August 10 4:30 P.M. Rear French doors opened by themselves.
Thinking that the case was now in a waning mode, we were really shocked when approximately two months later, the neighbor to the immediate east, Dexter Grey, who was renovating that house for his sister, made an interesting discovery associated with the Jolly home.
He accidentally discovered that one of the built-in bookshelves pushed inward revealing a secret passageway leading beneath the basement of the house. Apparently, several of the homes on that particular hill were connected by a subterranean passageway dating back to the prohibition era. In all likelihood, liquor was run through it.
While Grey was exploring this tunnel with his girlfriend and a neighbor, they found the remains of an old, makeshift grave with an engraved headstone that read Regina. The inscribed date of death was 1922. However, to the best of our knowledge, the Coroner’s Office was never contacted, nor were the remains, if any, exhumed. Interestingly, the Jolly house was built in 1924! Perhaps someone was using that plot of land as a cemetery plot?
The last occurrence in this case was one of high strangeness indeed. Just before we abandoned the house prior to the new tenants moving in, we left a note on NPI/UCLA stationary informing the new residents that their house was haunted and if they wanted us to continue our investigation (free of charge, of course), to contact us directly by telephone.
Several weeks later, I received a peculiar phone call from a young lady who lived several miles east of the Hollymont house. She asked if I was the author of a note she found stuck to the inside door of her bedroom closet at home. Somehow, the note I had left on the inside of the kitchen cupboard ended up in someone else’s closet many miles away who had absolutely no relationship to the old or new owners of the house. I’ve heard of apports, but this was ridiculous.
On several occasions throughout the 1980’s I was able to re-visit the Hollymont house, once in October of 1986 for the syndicated TV show Two On the Town. At that time three gay men were sharing the house. Their experiences were consistent with those of Don Jolly, others and myself. However, there was one particular aspect regarding their encounters that was unique. Apparently, the ghost in the Hollymont house may have been homophobic. Phenomena only occurred when straight men or heterosexual couples were over, never when the three men were there which each other or their significant others.
Since 1986, after one of the men died of AIDS and the others moved, there have been many different occupants residing in the Hollymont house. Various rooms are frequently rented out to different people. From time to time we have had sporadic contact with individuals living within the house and learned that phenomena still occurs. Unfortunately, the new tenants would not give us permission to continue our investigation. Until now, that is.
I have had occasional contact with Dexter Grey in the last fifteen years and, if he is to be believed, his house is almost as haunted as Jolly’s, although we never experienced any phenomena there. According to Grey, he has had numerous guests over the years that were so terrified by strange sounds and apparitions that they fled in the middle of the night.
However, I personally question Grey’s credibility and memory because of his apparent obsession of promoting and publicizing his haunted house is a little too important to him. He’ll apparently talk to anyone within earshot about events transpiring in his house and provides copies of “ancient” tabloid stories regarding paranormal events within his house to literal strangers walking in front of his home. Think about the fallout such random disclosure could have on your life. Would you want to tell the whole world about such occurrences in your home?
In the late summer of 2008 we (Jack Rourke and this author) trekked up to Hollymont to show the location to a producer friend, Mark Downie, visiting from New York. While we were all speaking in front of the property, Jack (a gifted Los Angeles psychic who had been working with us for several years) turned to this author and asked if there was a river running under the property. My reply was that I knew nothing of the subterranean features of this area.
Shortly thereafter, we were fortunate to meet one of the 6221 house’s new tenants, who invited us in. While walking up the steeply inclined stairway, Jack started feeling dizzy and nauseous, unaware that this author was having the exact same reaction at precisely the same moment, walking just several steps ahead of him.
The house looked pretty much the same as it did in 1976, although now badly in need of restoration. There had been substantial remodeling of the kitchen though, which now extends into the area that was once the pantry, where pennies once fell from nothingness decades earlier.
In October of 2008, we (Barry Conrad, Paul Clemens, Todd and Annie Fariss, Laurie Jacobson, Alex Mistretta, Jack Rourke and this author) returned to 6221 Hollymont on an investigation for the first time in more than twenty-five years.
A local businessman by the name of Abdi Manavi, now owns this fascinating house and was very gracious in allowing us access to his residence given that he didn’t know any of us. Mr. Manavi is what I call true gentleman.
Abdi (knowing a great deal of what transpired on his property three decades earlier) casually spoke of recent paranormal events such as books flying off shelves, disembodied voices, chandeliers swinging from no apparent cause, items disappearing and reappearing [apports], numerous light bulbs being removed from their sockets and left in a neatly formed triangular pile on the ground floor, and the very rare apparition of a young woman, whom Abdi believes to be Regina, whose body, allegedly, still remains buried beneath the house.
Perhaps the most intriguing information Abdi spoke of was his belief that the ghost or presence, seemed to be very reactive to skeptics, in that the more skeptical guests were regarding such phenomena, the more responsive the phenomenon was.
Abdi’s belief is very interesting, in that it might help explain why this particular house was so very volatile during this author’s initial investigation during the mid-seventies, as the Los Angeles Times’ reporter and the KTTV news camera crew with their reporter, (Connie Fox) were extremely skeptical, as was their nature.
The underground tunnel, within which Regina’s remains allegedly still resides, has long since collapsed due to the frequent earthquake activity in Southern California area since 1976. The tunnel would have to be excavated and shored up before anyone could safely enter it again.
One major difference in this current investigational visit was that we brought our suite of instruments to measure the environment. Back in 1976, portable, handheld instrumentation to measure the Earth’s geomagnetic field, electromagnetic (EM) fields, ion concentration and density, ULF/ELF EM spectrum analyzer, temperature and humidity, were only science-fiction pipe dreams in the minds of parapsychologists.
[And by the way, if you want the best one-stop shopping experience for purchasing your high-end, engineering-based instruments as referenced above, there is only one place to go: The Less EMF Safety Superstore (email@example.com or www.lessemf.com). However, please do your research well before ordering your instrumentation, as not all sensors are applicable. The man in the know to speak with at Less EMF is Emil De Toffol. One last bit of advice here, the correct instrumentation for use in paranormal field investigations does not come cheap from any source, so be prepared to spend some real hard-earned money.]
In spite of our strong expectations given the 1976 investigation, we were not prepared for what we were about to learn. By checking on the US Geological Survey (USGS) website, we discovered that several earthquake faults intersect almost directly under Abdi’s home.
Adding even more fuel to our anticipation was additional USGS data indicating that a shallow river runs beneath the homes on this side of this particular hill, precisely as Jack Rourke had sensed. What a coincidence! I knew there was a reason I wanted to work with Jack, and I guess I was right.
Jack Rourke is the only psychic I’ve ever worked with due to his emotional grounding, intellect, healthy ego and comprehensive knowledge of clinical psychology, and the paranormal, coupled with an intense desire to learn. This man knows more about clinical psychology than this author forgot over the decades. This psychically gifted young man is a steadfast seeker of truth and knowledge in his insatiable quest to understand and improve the quality of life.
Most, if not all, of the psychics I’ve met prior to Jack, and there has been thousands, had one disturbing trait in common (besides emotionally unstable with borderline personalities and frequently dissociative) which was very unnerving and a little frightening to this author.
That most disturbing characteristic was that everything they did (psychically, that is) was about them. Their continual reference to “I” was indicative of pretentious egomania, almost never about improving the human condition through acquired knowledge. About the only improving these “gifted” individuals were after, was that of their wallet or purse size as it swelled with cash as obtained from ignorant, gullible and naïve individuals.
What made and makes such a person intolerable to this author is their overt sense self-righteousness combined with incredible ignorance and arrogance. A dysfunctional combination of qualities, to be sure. Jack Rourke possesses not even a trace of these less than desirable behavioral qualities.
In true science, there is no such thing as “I”, as it is not about the people; it is about the advancement of the human race through what we learn and how we apply it.
Decades earlier, this author briefly worked with another psychic. However, there is one caveat here, she was my girlfriend at the time although truly gifted, that is, before her emotional meltdown due to an intense trauma she suffered, possibly related to our being together as a couple. You can read about her, in detail, in Chapter 10 (Abduction Central?).
Back in Hollywood Hills, perhaps it was the aforementioned geophysical forces underlying the Hollymont property that made Jack and this author mildly disoriented while ascending the stairway on our prior visit? Well, at least we now know where the energy comes that possibly feeds and sustains the paranormal activity in Abdi’s house over the years, don’t we?
But why did we not again feel ill during this most recent visit? Probably because these geophysical forces are in a constant state of flux and therefore will not always exert the same physical effects every time one is present.
Given this, it was certainly unfortunate, that even in the face of such extraordinary accumulated evidence as cited above, every one of our instruments read the environment as “normal”, as there did not appear to be anything unusual or anomalous about this location at that particular moment in time. However, we do know that such geophysical forces wax and wane over time due to numerous factors, none of which are predictable or controllable.
Laurie Jacobson, author of Hollywood Haunted, showed up about two hours after the rest of us. Only then, did anything seemingly paranormal begin to occur. Maybe it was the sheer presence of a particularly unique lady? Or, maybe it was the fact of Laurie’s being a well-respected Hollywood historian who’s been very interested in this particular case for decades. In point of fact, Laurie dedicated an entire chapter of her aforementioned book to this specific house and case. In the end, who knows?
When we ventured upstairs with Laurie, it felt as if we were in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber, where the atmospheric pressure would well above normal, that of 14.7 pounds per-square-inch.
It was actually quite painful to this author as well as to several others. This sense of overpressure is commonly associated with certain “haunted” environments and is frequently felt as pressure around the head, ears, mastoid region and neck. It felt like being at the bottom of a very deep swimming pool or scuba diving a little too deep for comfort.
Suddenly, the chandelier in the small, front, southern bedroom began to swing on its own. While Paul Clemens was videotaping that action he captured a large luminous anomaly that was not visible to the naked eye.
There was no wind, and the anomaly looked very different from what people some commonly refer to as “orbs”, which for the most part as explainable as tiny particulates or what’s more commonly referred to as dust (which is everywhere) being illuminated by bright light sources at specific angles. This anomaly was definitely not dust.
While Barry Conrad was shooting with one of his cameras into Abdi’s bedroom, a large, bright, red luminous anomaly was recorded that, once again was not visible to any of us. And still, the sense of overpressure lingered. Then, as suddenly as it began, the events ceased. Once again, things unfortunately returned to normal.
The hour was late and we decided to call it an evening, but not before thanking Abdi for his hospitality and asking him to keep a journal or log of events as best he could in the hope of discerning a pattern to the phenomena transpiring in his home.
As I was packing up our Pelican instrument case, I noticed what appeared to be an unusual marking on the bottom of it. Upon examination, it looked as if someone, or some thing, had carved a bizarre shape into the case.
Closer scrutiny of the carving depicted a large, backwards “R” (a lazy “R”?), as in Regina! What? There definitely was not any such physical damage of the case when we arrived at Abdi’s, but there was when we were about to depart. Hmm.
If the carving didn’t appear as a backwards “R”, that in itself would still be very interesting, especially as these Pelican cases are very strong and durable, not prone to being easily damaged.
The only other time this case was damaged was in 2005 when something very sharp tore into the middle and backward underside of the case while on another investigation. Those marks were very distinctive and looked as if a wild animal had torn into the case’s belly, which was all the while resting upon a soft sofa top where that type of damage could not have occurred.
Maybe what the Hollymont location requires to bring it back up to the frequency and magnitude of phenomena it displayed in 1976, is a collection of much younger people (with their concomitant high-energy nervous systems, glandular systems and emotions) attending such an investigation.
When the 6221 Hollymont house was under investigation in 1976, other than Don Jolly, the property’s owner, who was thirty-three (33) at the time, I was perhaps the oldest person present, all of twenty-seven. This time around, this author was only …well let’s just say a lot older. You do the math this time, for when I think about the passage of years, it’s somewhat depressing. I guess time really does fly when having fun?
The real question now is, did Regina’s spirit cause the damage to our instrument which just happens to be in the shape of a backwards “R”? Many questions, but as yet, no real answers. Hopefully, we will return again to this fascinating Hollymont home when feasible.
The sad news is that this house is once again up for sale as it’s condition has so deteriorated so severely over the decades from water damage, earthquakes, a sinking foundation, mysterious fires, etc., that it might not be worth restoring at any price.
This brings up the thought that if said property is demolished, will the vacant lot or any new house experience the same types of paranormal events as the current one?
Only time and patience will tell.
The following is a letter emailed to me as I was actually writing this article (but before publishing it) by Kenneth D. Fulwiler concerning this most incredible house. Talk about synchronicities?
A couple of weeks ago I decided to do a web search for the Hollymont House where I had spent a couple of evenings in the summer after I graduated from High School. My search revealed that the house was up for sale and I happened to notice your comments regarding the house. An involvement with the Hollymont House caused me to attend some of the evening UCLA’s Parapsychology Extension classes in Moore Hall (circa. 1974-1977), which I see you were involved with as well.
My involvement with the Hollymont House started by way of the drummer in our garage band from High School. He had a brother that worked for Don Jolly at the Home Savings in North Hollywood. One day back in the summer of 1974, our drummer mentioned to us that his brother worked for a guy who owned a ‘real’ haunted house in Hollywood. My ears immediately perked up, as I had always been interested in Parapsychology ever since I was very young.
A couple of days later, my friend said we were invited to go out to the house at 6221 Hollymont Drive. I recall it being a Thursday night that my friend, his brother and I were invited to the Hollymont Drive house.
Don Jolly greeted us in the foyer just as the hanging lamp began to swing back and forth. Don said: ‘Oh, that’s the ghost welcoming new-comers’. He told us about the evening he was having a party in which the refrigerator door flew open, a head of cabbage flew out as a chef’s knife came off the wall and came together in front of his house-boy in the kitchen. Needless to say, he said, the houseboy quit on the spot. Don showed us the stairway down to the basement and said that all the problems seemed to emanate from ‘down there’. None of us were willing to go down there.
Don Jolly was a very gracious host and invited us to dinner at the Japanese restaurant Yamashiro in the Hollywood hills. After the wonderful dinner we sat together in the living room and Don told stories of his experiences living in the house.
My friend’s brother recalled that one night he had stayed over in the bedroom upstairs in the west end of the house and as he looked up into the enjoining bathroom and saw a disembodied face staring at him horizontally from around the corner in the bathroom.
I recall while we were sitting around talking we could hear noises of someone moving around elsewhere in the house. Lights would turn on and off on their own. The doorbell would ring with no one there. Telephone would ring with no one was on the line.
At one point we heard noises at the front door, at which time Don opened the front door to find that all the outdoor furniture from the back patio had been piled up at the front door, the wrought-iron gate had been closed and tied shut with a length of rope.
Sometime during that Thursday evening, I believe I stated that my then girl friend would have been interested in what was going on. Don Jolly then invited us, including my girl friend, back again on that Saturday night. Upon our arrival that Saturday night, the hanging lamp in the entry again began to move back and forth across the foyer, this time moving back and forth with such force as to almost touch the walls on either side of the foyer. Saturday evening progressed much as it did on that Thursday night. I believe we went to Yamashiro again for dinner.
When we returned from dinner, we could tell that atmosphere in the house was in a highly agitated state. There was much more activity in the second night than in the first.
At one point Don became so concerned with the activity that he went down to his study and called his Bishop for advice, who even come out and blessed the house with Holy Water.
When he was on the phone in his office with the Bishop, I was standing at the end of the hall close to the dining room looking down the hallway that separated the kitchen from the foyer looking down to the opposite end where Don’s study was.
Don was sitting at his desk just to the right of the doorway in his study, talking to the Bishop, when the built-in bookshelf to the left of the doorway launched all its contents of books across the doorway at Don.
A few minutes later after we recovered from that episode, I was following my girlfriend from the dining room, through the pantry toward the kitchen when suddenly it sounded and felt like all hell broke loose in the house. There was no one upstairs but the stereo at the top of stairs came on full blast and a box of poker chips was thrown from a cupboard upstairs on to the tile floor of the foyer with a horrendous crash. It sounded and felt like the house was coming down around us.
I bent over my girl friend in the pantry to try and protect her from whatever was happening as I could feel this pressure coming down on top of us. It must have lasted for ten seconds or so. Don was getting so nervous at that point that he suggested we all leave the house and let it settle down. I did not disagree with that thought, as I was happy to leave the Hollymont house at that moment.
My girlfriend has stated that she felt her presence was the cause of the agitation that night, because she was a Catholic that had studied witchcraft at one time. I never felt like I was a target or had anything directed toward me. I cannot say I really felt frightened at any point, but I do remember the uneasy feeling of not knowing which way to look; that feeling of not knowing what was going on behind you, even though you know no one is there.
I respect you for your bravery in the amount of time you have spent in the Holly Mont House.
I was contacted and interviewed in the late 70’s by National Enquirer, but they did not use any of my commentary in their resulting article. Around that time period I heard that Don Jolly was selling the house, a female real estate agent who was down in the basement was leaning against a wall, which caved in to reveal a tunnel leading to the opposing house to the east. In the tunnel I heard that they found a tombstone. Do you know anything about that? Also, is Don Jolly still around? I remember him as being a very nice, generous, humorous and gregarious man.
Kenneth D. Fulwiler, August 27, 2013
The Missing Psychic
If you’re at all familiar with my forty three year career in parapsychology, you may have noticed an absence of one particular element in all my writing and speaking. The specific item left unsaid is my steadfast refusal to work with psychics, until now, that is.
Aside from the difficulty of objectively verifying their information, there was an ever-present concern over the individuals themselves. There have been older and younger psychics, taller and shorter ones, male and female as well as attractive and unattractive ones. But the fundamental issue that prevented me from working with them, with the singular exception of a girlfriend for five months in the late 1970’s as discussed in Chapter 10 of my book, was that they all frightened the daylights out of me, but not for the reasons one might suspect, especially as I started out my involvement in this field as a psychic.
What was disturbing to me about these individuals was that they all spoke only about themselves, their alleged gifts, talents, skills, etc., never about what they were able to do with said abilities to better the human condition.
Generally speaking, they were all, in my professional opinion, self-righteous egomaniacs who tried to employ whatever paranormal abilities they had to deprive anyone in their presence of their hard earned money.
Not that someone shouldn’t be payed for a provided service with the one exception that said service is not solely self-serving.
Some of these individuals were very gifted, but were also somewhat troubled, and on occasion, down right psychotic in believing that if they could occasionally access precisely accurate information about people, places and events from the past, present, future and at-a-distance, that they could never be in error with their perceptions.
Some of these interesting people actually developed messianic complexes, believing that they could never be wrong regardless of the facts before them.
Surrounded by such aberrational thinking was far more disturbing than the phenomena I was investigating at the time.
But nothing bad lasts forever, right? How does that phrase go “All things come to those who wait?”
In the late fall of 2006, I met a young man by the name of Jack Rourke, who hired me to speak at a local event. Over time, we became friends and eventually colleagues. Jack Rourke is an incredibly gifted psychic, as well as being a medical intuitive.
Having now worked with him for almost five years, I can professionally say that Jack Rourke is perhaps the most talented psychic I’ve ever encountered, and there have been thousands.
But what makes Jack utterly unique and uncommon in my experience is his total lack of ego regarding his abilities. He is very grounded and sincere, never speaking of himself but of what he’s been able to do in the assistance of others.
His knowledge of clinical psychology (more than I forgot), spirituality, and parapsychology in general, is balanced with a healthy perspective on what he does and why he does it.
The only thing I regret about knowing Jack Rourke is that I had not met him some forty years ago, as we all could have benefited from his input at every level of our work.
As Jack is more than a generation my junior, it would have been quite impossible for such a working relationship to have existed way back when, as he was a baby at the time.
I speak of Jack not only in the acknowledgments page of my book, but also in the very first chapter (A Haunting Thought) as he was part of our investigative team at the Hollymont case back in 2008 as well as many others prior to and since.
Jack has become an invaluable member of our research group and we have all benefited from working with him at every level.
There may well be other psychics like him somewhere on earth, however, I’ve never met another even close to the type of person he is.
Jack Rourke is on a quest to understand human nature as related to the paranormal, while improving himself at the same time. Jack is an invaluable asset at many levels and for a multitude of reasons. All the right reasons, to be exact. Jack Rourke can be reached through his website: jackrourke.net.
I strongly urge anyone with an interest in parapsychology and paranormal research purchase Jack Rourke’s new book, The Rational Psychic: A Skeptic’s Guide to Extraordinary Perception, as you will be thoroughly engrossed, entertained and educated all at the same time.