Adventures Promoting a Parapsychologist

“Jan has Jan” was the last thing Ouija spelled out just before sailing off the edge of the board never to return. As if it was saying “I quit.”

“What do you think That means?” asked Jan. “Maybe we broke it asking too much about the Occult?”

“Thats ridiculous“ said her husband Ed. “It’s a freaking board game” Ed never hid the fact that he thought his wife and I were loony and our curiosity was pretentious nonsense. “The only thing answering your questions is YOU two.” Jan was used to his jovial snarkiness and playfully waved her hand for him to piss-off.

I knew of course he wasn’t able to grasp just how perceptive a board game the Ouija was. Jan and I understood its complexities. For example it told me about a life I had in 16th century Russia as a peasant girl named Maria something-Russian whose mistress was mean and abusive. Mostly we asked Ouija to answer questions like what is life after life like, what’s on the other side? Is there a heaven? Have I always reincarnated as a female? Pesky stuff like that and it just got tired of answering and ended with Jan has Jan. As if to say stop bugging me and find it out for yourselves. That’s how it felt anyway.

It just so happened that a lecture on Spoon Bending and The Power Of Pyramid Energy was coming to the Wagon Wheel Hotel in South Lake Tahoe, ecstatic we planned to attend. Just we two Jans. We couldn’t contain our giddy excitement, indeed we had each other. Two middle aged women in 1977 Lake Tahoe, very hip and ahead of our time, we both agreed on that.

We ordered our tickets and waited in anticipation for the date. The night of the lecture we dressed like we imagined hip, modern, sophisticated women of the 70’s might dress, of course, we thought, we were all that.

It was not in the least disappointing. The room was pleasantly lit, set up with hotel chairs in neat rows with about 50 well dressed hip, sophisticated people already seated. We were amazed at just how many there were. “Look there’s Jimmy Valentine, he owns the book store at the Y.“ said Jan tugging my arm.

At one end of the room a couple of tables were set up with stacks of books and pamphlets on the occult. A pretty young blond sitting at one of the tables was there to sell books answer questions, handout pamphlets and sign people up for his Spoon Bending Class. There was an assortment of bent spoons and mangled utensils at one end and several gold plated wire Pyramid hats, all for sale.

The lecturer—Dr. Lawrence Kennedy, a bonafide Parapsychologist—was larger than life, I’m not joking he glowed inside out. The entirety of his 6’2” demeanor was topped off with silver blond hair visibly surrounded by a pinkish-gold aura. It struck me that he could have been from another planet. Needless to say both Jan and I were besotted. Then he began to speak—his voice was soft but firm--he exuded confidence with an all-knowing friendliness.

This exceeded any pretentious nonsense beyond our dreams, feeding our starving curiosity. We sat side by side in attentive submission at what Dr. Kennedy was saying. His story went like this. He was living in Laguna Beach with his 12 year old son Chris. One of Chris’s school friends had the ability to focus his energy to where he could manipulate metal into bending. He could bend spoons with laser like intensity.

The newspaper Article on Chris and Dr Kennedy.

Chris was immediately attracted to this curious phenomenon—he had a competitive nature and was determined to prove he could do as his friend did, and asked how he did it. David admitted he wasn't really sure how it worked but concentration on the spoon - imagining his energy flowing into it made it soft as plastic. Psyched up Chris set about collecting spoons from the family silverware cache, he stared at and vigourously rubbed the cutlery till his thumbs burned but after several futile attempts was disheartened to admit he may not be able to do it after all.

Lawrence thought maybe he should try it with a fork so he pulled out the silverware drawer onto a strangely inexplicable sight. Every spoon, fork and even the potato peeler were bent, twisted and generally mangled, rendering them useless oddities. Apparently Chris had remarkable Psychokinesis abilities after all, and they clearly needed regulating.

The andirons on the fireplace were at a 30* angle, the camping gear set out for an overnight camping trip, contained bent silverware. In time Dr. Kennedy was able to understand and harness this power in himself—which allowed him to be here tonite—to demonstrate It. He concluded the story of his son with the beginning of his own. He had found an accredited school where he studied psychometrics and eventually graduated with a degree in Parapsychology allowing him to professionally teach Occult sciences.

Standing before us with a teaspoon in either hand. He held them up to the audience as we watched the spoons go limp between his thumb and finger in just seconds. He put the two spoons together they were identically bent at a 45* angle and fit perfectly inside each other. It was quick and effortless.

There were more than a few gasps from the audience. He passed the spoons into the group to examine them. I took one of them tugging and trying to force it back into its original shape, but it refused to move without applying a lot more strength or in this case - energy. It was bent, hard and fixed. I was dumbfounded and bewitched.

He continued telling us about how energy works and concentration on the space between the molecules, “I imagine my energy filling the negative space pushing aside the solid molecules, willing my energy to displace it until it's malleable.” He introduced us to the revelation of Pyramid Power. He read excerpts from a book and demonstrated wearing the wire pyramid hat And what effect it has on the body. He taught us a simple technique of how to see human auras, which actually worked. What he was doing was altering our perception of reality, showing us a world where pure energy reigned.

Jan and I were eating it up, it’s exactly what we were asking Ouija to tell us. “This must have been what Jan has Jan means” I said to Jan, “together we’ll find the answers. This is so uncanny.” We had finally found a door into the hidden world of psychic knowledge.

I was ecstatic and determined to find a way into this world. Dr Kennedy had the key and my mind was busily scanning for possibilities. Jan sought out Jimmy Valentine and went over to say Hi. I headed straight for this newly found magic man.

After the lecture ended, books sold, pamphlets handed out, I stood waiting for the crowd around him to dissipate before lavishing him with my insightful chitchat. I wanted to be where he was and was willing to wait my turn to get there. It was a once only opportunity, so I leapt. Flattery has always worked well for me and I was unabashedly good at it.

It was instant admiration. Both of us being opportunists we struck up a conversation. He inquired if I was interested in taking his weekend class to learn the technique of spoon bending. I told him I was unemployed and free to do as I liked as long as money wasn’t involved. I told him that I was an artist and could design his ads and posters for him, he asked if I was interested in doing some work in trade. He liked hiring a local person to do his busy work, a kind of personal helper familiar with the area. I was 38, single, attractive and Uncommonly interested. Funny—it was never a sexual attraction—but a strong mutual appreciation for the science. Ultimately we grew into dear friends.

My job as his press secretary was booking radio spots, and various banquet halls Elks, et al. I made his flyers, posters and wrote letters to towns along the California coast looking for interested sponsors and clientele. I had found my element.

After a few weeks in Tahoe, having exhausted our resources we needed to prepare for his commitment to a Psychic convention in Santa Monica. 1977 Seemed the year for revitalizing the age old science involving Occult studies.

There was no question that I was going, he had become dependent on the service I performed. My pay was in books, psychic jewelry, crystals and of course all my expenses, food and accommodations were included. I was more than at peace with that. Jan, however was not. She felt abandoned, it inserted a tiny riff that we never fully recovered from.

Santa Monica was cool, my first Psychic fair. We were met with great enthusiasm, it was strangely exhilarating and I met several interesting people. Attempting to describe the myriad of products, exhibits, and booths selling books on Madam Blavatsky to Edgar Cacye, Tarot and soothsayer stands is daunting - all of it filling the football field size of the Santa Monica Convention Center.

Our booth was designed around the newest discovery of Kirlian photography from Russia. We set up a light proof box with a black drape then had people sit in front of it and place only their finger tips on unexposed polaroid film. Then we put a pyramid hat on their head and had them take several deep breaths to relax, center themselves and repeated the process placing the tips of their fingers on the polaroid and took another shot.

Once they were developed and compared the result was pretty astonishing and certainly convincing enough to sell many pyramid hats--a sundry of books and psychically infused crystal pendants. Yes there was a bit of film-flamery involved, it was how he made a living spreading this ancient obscure intelligence. He made converts and clients with his winsome larger than life exuberance. He was a spellbinder with integrity who was true to his word.

My on-going job was to keep the inventory of books updated as well as sell them. I replaced and became the new attractive assistant. It wore me out. After the fair we packed up the booth and loaded the van, I just wanted to soak in a hot tub and let this experience soak into me. But Lawrence had other ideas.

“We did very well this weekend so we should get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant, a bonus for all your hard work. Let's celebrate.” To refuse would be sacrilege. Now the term celebrate had a broad interpretation--to be among Larry’s entourage meant--no Alcohol or drugs of any kind, no meat, strictly vegetarian. No cursing, cajoling or cavorting. I deemed it was for my own good, though I've never embraced discipline so it was a colossal stretch. I still craved the occasional cheeseburger, side of fries and cold beer. Woe is me I was an inveterate physic sinner.

Our next stop was the Earl Warren Showgrounds in Santa Barbara. An enormous Psychic convention sponsored by Divine Light Mission (DLM) founded by Guru Maharaj Ji. A few years earlier in 1973 I had received ‘knowledge’ from DLM in Portland, which meant I had been initiated in the secrets to having eternal life. Then later that year attended a huge spiritual gathering at the Astrodome in Houston, Texas. I was actually blessed by him--me and the thousands waiting in line to meet him--eye to eye. It was a transforming experience. Alas after a couple of years, I could no longer bring myself to genuflect to Majaraji’s photo and eventually dropped my $130 annual membership.

The ashram was our host for the event and we stayed in the rooms they provided. The night before setting up our exhibits, they held a banquet for all the visiting speakers and exhibitors. A feast of exotic vegetarian dishes mostly Indian. There were selected guest entertainers to add to the mystique.

One guy, in particular, sat in a large leather chair in the center of the room explaining his communication with a spaceship miles above him. We were instructed to keep a three-foot distance encircling him claiming the ship had a protective shield around him in which they communicated. Apparently people could be knocked on their butts if they entered it. We were told we could ask anything of them and they would answer us.

This was too much for me, maybe it was a culmination of intensity felt over the last few months, (or just keeping up with Lawrence) I started to loose it. I was so bewildered by memories of leaving DLM - relinquishing my once gained powers to become so insignificant, feelings of guilt and shame engulfed me. I had to do something, anything to humble myself, so I went in the kitchen and started washing the stacks of dishes, shedding tears of humiliation and dishonor for not fulfilling my contract to be a loyal ‘Devotee’ it was as if I had let myself down. The other devotees seemed to sense my need to do service and let me be.

This lasted a good hour until Lawrence came looking for me slightly appalled and ashamed of my actions insisting we call it a night. I hardly slept, thinking about the overwhelming emotions I was having. it probably was just the climax of the last four months of intense change. Whatever it was I couldn't get a grip and sobbed all night and then all through breakfast. Lawrence was perturbed and baffled this was a big day, we had to set up the booth and make a handsome splash to attract customers then prepare the small room where he was to demonstrate his his talent bending spoons and I was as useful as a red-eyed rag doll.

I snapped out of it and helped bring in the boxes of books, jewelry, the Kirilian camera box and fixed the display the way Lawrence taught me to. Then helped set up the assigned room with chairs and tables - his lecture tools, books, unbent spoons, and Pyramid hats and finished with time enough to go exploring.

The three day convention was featuring such notables as Dr. Ray Brown discussing his latest book on scuba diving in the Bermuda Triangle and discovering an underwater pyramid where he found a crystal ball, which he brought with him to display. Since we were exhibitors I was allowed to peruse the various exhibits as they were setting up. Dr. Ray invited me to test out his moment0us find by standing on a chair three feet above the crystal ball and feel the powerful energy it emitted. It was remarkable I pushed down on it until my palm started to ache and I had to pull away.

Mitchell Hedges put his famous Mayan quartz scull on exhibit. Eerily unsettling.

Zahi Hawass, Director of the Pyramids - Egyptologist a kind lovely man. We chatted a little at the banquet, impressively humble, mild-mannered and interesting.

There was a long list of hypnotists and fellow occult professionals. It didn’t feel like a cheap sideshow full of charlatans. These were serious world traveled authors and professionals. It was quite a unique and rare occurrence. Uri Geller was supposed to speak but had an event in Germany. As a special treat they invited some members of the Moody Blues to perform during the long breaks.

I wandered around marveling at the mysterious, hidden worlds and the exotic places they came from. I was especially impressed with the Crop Circle Photographs. After seeing the plethora of complex designs, how could anyone dispute the reality of them? The level of energy and information was superseded by the overall enchantment of the place. It was monumental.

As I was roaming around I heard someone playing a piano, I had never heard music like that before - anywhere. Sitting at a grand piano in the empty auditorium full of empty chairs was this intriguing fellow, smoking a pipe and playing music from another sphere, deeply engrossed he played with broad animated gestures, puffing his pipe, smoke billowing around his rather adorable face. The acoustics in the domed ceiling allowed the music to be infused and absorbed into every pore. His name was Fred Wossner and he looked every bit the composer/concert pianist he was. The heavenly sound coming out of him was improvised. I was hypnotized and convinced it could only be true love.

As fate would have it I had met my future, at least the next five years of it. But that's a story for another time.

****

The opening day was Friday, a fair-sized crowd came but the majority of speakers were scheduled for Saturday and Sunday and that's when we expected to be inundated. And boy were we ever. It was a huge success and perhaps the biggest event of it's kind ever. DLM was famous for their spiritual events. There were at least a million people at the Huston Astrodome Event. And close to that amount for this Convention. The tickets we're not cheap so they made a colossal amount of money. I don't know what Lawrence paid for the booth but it was very profitable for him as well.

When it was over, I was so ready to take a needed break. Five months was about all the occult science my mind could assimilate. I was sated and spent. Lawrence and Chris were ready to take a break as well. So I went back home to Lake Tahoe to reclaim my calm, boring life, and try to mend the damage done between Jan and I.

I planned a dinner for my ex-husband, his best friend and fellow musician Ed and his wife Jan, all of us best friends for years. I made my signature dish a meat filled cheesy lasagna, and back in my life - happy for its return, a nice bottle of burgundy. Jan almost didn't come but I think curiosity got the best of her.

I shared my experiences and trials and list of things I'd learned. Ed was still in his role of deep seated skepticism. Harold, my ex had dipped his toe into L. Ron Hubbards Dianetics, some years back, so was a little more open to it.

I showed them my cache of compensation loot. Lawrence had been very generous giving me items I could sell and make a little cash. I had sufficient enough of the pyramid hats I could give some away and offered them, Jan and Harold took one but Ed was poo-pooing it. I decided to give them an illustration of first hand spoon bending, I had picked up the skill from taking his class and performing for the fair goers. I asked Ed to select the utensil he wanted me to bend. I had him hold my wrists in his hands so he could feel that there wasn’t any extra exertion or slight of hand tricks. I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the tablespoon gently stroking it with one finger, after 10 -15 seconds I touched the lip of the spoon and it went limp starting to bend, I took the handle and wrapped it twice to make a double loop, all in a matter of seconds, like it was a piece of licorice. Ed dropped my wrists and stood up, his tanned face turned pale. All he could say was ”Fuck!” and walk away.

I think the epiphany he was feeling was close to an LSD trip. He was visibly shaken. But not for long because the fuss Jan and Harold we're making gave rise to a newfound experience for Ed to forevermore be a believer. We were watching his mind opening.

One of the gifts Lawrence gave me was a first edition rare, out-of-print gospel, purportedly channeled by God himself. He told me to take it to a collector and have it appraised. It was quite valuable. A beautiful thing to read. When Jan saw it she begged to borrow it, promising to return it. Well she never did, in fact even Ed kept it protected and wouldn't let me even look at it. This pretty much ended the Jan has Jan syndrome for good. We didn't speak much after that. I decided to move to LA and find out what Fred was all about.

While Lawrence and I stayed in touch and saw each other over the years even parking his motor home in my driveway. He once brought to my house a very interesting looking creature, I say creature because Lawrence claimed she was from the Pleiades and he had strands of her long straggling blond white hair tested to discover it contained large amounts of arsenic. Her skin was translucent.

The last I heard of him was when his son Chris and his new Italian wife asked me to drive with them to Colorado to buy some land. He told me Lawrence, and his wife had taken their motorhome and moved to Florida. Thus ended that saga.

Me I haven't bent a single spoon since those days and wonder how in the world I did it. I still have the pyramid hats, assorted crystals, some jewelry and a whole lot of fond memories of the best job I ever had.