Those in the physical plane would know of my second-to-last physical incarnation as Edgar Cayce. This entity would have quite an interesting life, being so close to the conclusion of the cycle and the fulfillment of the prophecies.

The entity’s method of service was consciously chosen at a young age, after my fifth-dimensional female self known as Lucia would appear before it at the physical age of thirteen.

In her highly stunning angelic form, Lucia would ask the young Eddie what he wanted more than anything else in the world. Delightfully, his conscious reply was “to help sick people, especially small children.”

And with that statement, we then knew that this was to be his chosen path to bring the awareness of our presence out to the world, using this physical incarnation as a conduit. We would spend the subjective equivalent of thousands of years of linear time doing medical research throughout all time periods in the Earthen sphere.

We would work with Cayce’s Astral Self to guide it to enter the minds of the greatest doctors, shamans and healers of all time, searching for natural remedies that we could apply and recommend in a process that we would eventually name “psychic readings.” It would be through this profound ability to diagnose and treat illness that the reality of our presence would become known.

The reason why we called our communications “readings” is that we would go to the Infinite Library of Knowledge for the information that we would bring forth. Of course, this was not really a library at all, merely the infinite consciousness of the One.

However, it was easier for the humans to view this with familiar terms and visual images, and the metaphor of a library or a hall of records was especially valuable. This would be commonly referred to in Earthen cultures as the “Akashic Records,” and we would also use this term in our workings with Cayce.

In our work with Cayce, an entity’s condition could be diagnosed and treated without anything but a name and address. This was all the identification that we required to tune into an entity’s thought/energy fields, to then visit them at the place of their dwelling and scan their physical body.

We had to work in close cooperation with the Astral Self of Cayce, since it was this aspect of self that was directly responsible for the phrasing and wording of our messages. Since the astral body is affected greatly by the studies and predilections of the physical body, we were somewhat restricted in the scope of messages that we could bring through.

In other words, since the Ego self of Cayce was not well educated in physical terms, the Astral Self did not have the degree of fluidity of language that we would have preferred. As a result, our communications would be highly complicated to read, often stretching into huge and confusing run-on sentences.

However, the power and potency of the information would still be strong enough to ensure that the otherselves in the physical would have all the proof they needed of the reality of our existence. Our medical readings would be profoundly accurate, giving an unequivocal demonstration of the true strength and power of Light that we wielded in higher realms.

We did have a great deal of trouble with the Ego-self Edgar Cayce. There were a great number of restrictive behavior complexes brought about through the strict adherence to the doctrines of mainstream Westernized Christianity.

In this system of beliefs, highly distorted from the original teachings of the Amilius / Jehoshuah entity, there was simply no room for many of the pieces of knowledge and information that we wished to impart.

And thus, even our simple existence which demonstrated itself through our medical readings was so uncomfortable to Edgar that we required ten years of his time before he was willing to have enough confidence in this process to begin doing it for others, in order for him to make a living in the physical.

It would take us ten more years of linear time to be able to break out of our mold of medical readings with him, to actually begin teaching the truths of reincarnation and some of the other pieces of metaphysical knowledge that we sought to impart.

We made this decision during a reading for Cayce’s colleague known physically as Arthur Lammers, wherein we stated that Lammers had once been a monk in a previous physical incarnation. We knew that this would test the Ego-self of Edgar to its limits, but thankfully Edgar did choose to continue working with us.

After a good bit of time, Edgar begrudgingly accepted the notion that reincarnation was a possibility. He finally was willing to stop subconsciously editing our workings and just let our readings say what we wanted to say, within reason. It is after this breakthrough that many of our readings that he would become so famous for came to pass.

Our readings included information on past lives, astrology, the Great Pyramid, life on other planets, Earth Changes, Atlantis, the imminent Pole Shift / Ascension, and the design and opening of the Hall of Records.

We wanted to make sure that we made mention of the final physical incarnation on Earth as well in the readings. This final incarnation would be a simple human just like Cayce, with thoughts and feelings and emotions, drive, purpose and understanding.

By analyzing the timetables of how and when this could be done, we realized that this next entity would not fully awaken to its own identity until the Earth year 1998. We also knew that this entity would have much more in common with our previous incarnation as Ra-Ta than it did as its current incarnation as Edgar Cayce.

And therefore, we issued a reading that stated quite clearly that “the priest would be seen to return again in 1998.” We will be covering the story of our final physical incarnation in some detail throughout the rest of this work.



We gave even more information to bump the ego-self Cayce’s comfort zone in the middle of our teaching program. Our readings informed him that outside spiritual forces on other planets played a crucial role in humanity’s own development there on Earth.

We told Edgar that he himself had originated from the star Arcturus, and that this was the location of his true family. This was a simple enough truth for us to reveal, as the Earthen sun and the star Arcturus were engaged in a long-term gravitational interaction with each other.

Much of the work that we did in the higher-dimensional sense was stationed in the Arcturian star system.

So, for all intents and purposes, our Cayce Readings first set forth the notion that an extraterrestrial being could incarnate within a regular, physical human body and appear on the Earth, usually unaware of who or what it really was. This was an important facet of what we wished to communicate.

Our Ego-self Edgar Cayce would die from the physical in January 1945 and return to Arcturus. Within two and one half years later, our brothers on the outside would increase their efforts even more to make our presence known to those of Earth.

And thus, the modern twentieth-century UFO era began with the famed Kenneth Arnold UFO sightings and the Roswell crash in New Mexico, which we engineered ourselves to bring about knowledge and truth to the planet of our existence.

Up until this time, the public knowledge of the UFO phenomena and of our presence was practically nonexistent. How interesting should it be that our Ego-self Cayce was no longer around to be asked about it: would he have allowed us to tell the truth in our readings?

We knew that it was highly doubtful — for us to speak of these things was too great a risk for us to take.

This was, in fact, an enormous area of inquiry that Cayce would never be open-minded enough to receive while he was still alive. His Western Christian leanings would have forced him to shut down the whole process if our readings had ever spoken of past humanoid civilizations and ruins on the moon and Mars.

Something as rudimentary to us as the notion of reincarnation practically shook him to the core of his own faith and sanity in the 1930’s period of Earth years. The sheer awesomeness of what we were providing him through our readings was not enough to convince him to “buy in” to the validity of our statements. His personal religious programming certainly ran quite deep.

We knew that we had to come back to Earth for one more time around the old Wheel of Fortune. As my fifth-density selves Grandfather and Lucia, I spent a good bit of time in Arcturus, learning lessons, healing the wounds and plotting out my next physical life.

It would have to be a life that not only satisfied all the accumulated karma that the Ego self would need to learn, but that had the potential to answer the prophecies written into our own readings. In these prophecies, we spoke of the fact that this final incarnation would be one of a great team of Liberators, whose collective mission was to free the minds of those still trapped in the physical plane.

Indeed, our final physical incarnation would have the potential to do great things for the Earth, by letting its people know that the Solar Cycle that our Cayce readings often spoke of was ending. Ascension was coming, and we wanted to make sure that as many entities as possible would graduate.

Those who truly loved and cared for other people would be able to enter into this New Heaven and New Earth, a place of almost Utopian majesty. In this New World, flying travel would occur at the speed of thought, communication would be telepathic, and stone could be caused to float by nothing more than a focus of consciousness.

It was also a world where the Earth would regain its full membership in our galactic organization of benevolent, sentient beings, known as the Confederation, Council or Galactic Federation.

My now-nameless fifth dimensional entity who had recently been Cayce scanned carefully through all the planetary alignments within the next thirty years. If he waited any longer than that, he would never have been old enough to get our messages out in time.

He noticed one configuration in particular that was very, very close to the one that he had been born with as Cayce. The new date was March 8, 1973.

We decided to have the new Ego-self be in its mid-twenties at the time that we would attempt to completely lift the veil of forgetting, which we had prophesied for 1998. [See the article “An Analysis of Astrological Similarities Between Wilcock and Cayce.”]

My fifth-density self ran through vigorous tests of endurance and strength to insure that he would be ready. (The ego-self of David Wilcock would later piece this all together from dream experiences where he would recall these preparations himself.)

I watched and coordinated from the sixth density as the entity checked and double-checked with his brethren, laying out the plan to insure that they would find him quickly and accurately once he was again incarnate.

A set of very unique parents had to be chosen, parents that would be loving enough to foster a healthy child, and open-minded enough to make that child ready to remember who he was at a very young age.

These parents also needed to have the genetic components in place to form a child vibrationally similar to Cayce and the others: a child who would have the same relative facial appearance.

Interestingly, there was one final part of the puzzle as well. The fifth-density entity himself would be able to remain outside the body and in contact with Arcturus and with myself, while simultaneously occupying the new form.

This double arrangement certainly wouldn’t give us the freedom that we now had, but we would by no means be “trapped” on Earth. My fifth-density self hoped that this new Ego-self would quickly understand what was going on.

He knew that this new entity wouldn’t immediately realize that his Ego-self, fifth-density self and I were all one and the same, so he chose a name for himself. The name, as I have stated it, was Grandfather.

A multilayered plan was set in place to insure that the final mission had a high chance of success. Among other things, the best Arcturian “medically-driven” nanotechnology would be implanted into the physical body at a young age.

This would allow for tracking and much more intimate telepathic contact than would be possible for most physical human beings — conscious contact. This was far from the crude technologies of the self-serving extraterrestrials who terrorized their captives — the new self would never experience trauma, only wonder from the experience.

After the devices were installed, fantastic dreams could be given with a flick of the switch. It was sure to work.



My luminous robe danced up and down as I went through my final endurance test on my fifth-density base in Arcturus before I departed. As the Ego-self David would later vividly recall in a dream, I stood on a circular disk platform that was broken up into many small cells. Each cell rose and fell at a different rate of speed, very smoothly and quickly.

The task was to dart my feet from one spot to another and keep up with the machine, without falling. It was an incredible challenge. I knew the test was metaphorically significant of my ability to handle the many shifting problems that I would face in my new assignment. Years later, David would relive this test again in the dream plane.

Finally, after a brutal dance, I passed the test with flying colors. I now knew that I was fully prepared and ready. I took a deep breath, preparing for the crushing plummet into the weight of third density Earth in the late 20th Century.

My twin soul, still incarnate on Earth as Edgar Cayce’s stenographer Gladys Davis, stood by in her own Arcturian form. Later, she would take the name Light, or Lucia. When the time was right, the two of us would work together to teach and educate the new Ego-self, whom we had already chosen to name David.

My sixth-density self was quite proud of me to have finally completed my preparations; I was now ready to depart. Lucia said a quick mental goodbye to me, knowing that she wouldn’t see much of me for a few Earth years as I took control of the infantile mind.

I answered the telepathic goodbye with love. “Do not worry, dear Lucia,” I said. “I’ll be just fine.”

“I know you will,” Lucia responded. “We’re counting on you.” We embraced tenderly. I turned and began levitating forward.

As I passed through the walls of the orbiting Arcturian station and began the rapid descent, the blue dot of the Earth gradually became larger and larger, and I felt the increasing agony of my compression into physical matter.

I felt myself forgetting everything about who and what I really was, forming a new Ego-self. I would need to work diligently to penetrate through this forgetting process, through my tools of dreams and synchronicity.



I had been asking myself this question almost since birth. From as early as I could possibly remember, I would have fantastic dreams of mass UFO sightings, very low to the Earth and almost always in the form of wingless cylinders.

Their size was absolutely colossal, and they would often obscure most of my field of view. The dream would always start the same way.

I walk out into the front yard, holding my mother’s hand. She is here with me, and she loves me. The sun is shining and bright, the air is warm and the trees are very green. I am calm and at peace, the world is a happy place.

Suddenly there is a wave of feeling; I feel like something is about to happen. I grip my mother’s hand. Reality stops, grinds to a halt. The air becomes crystalline, energetic, and alive — it sparkles.

I feel like I am floating ten feet above myself; my head is reeling and I can hardly stand up. I am awestruck, more than ever before in my entire life. I can hardly breathe as they appear in the sky. They are so enormous, so incredibly enormous.

From the right, in the bright blue sky, the craft appear. They are metallic, shiny. They come in several different shapes and sizes, some boxy, others sleek and aerodynamic:They fly in trains, one behind the other, and seem to flutter as they fly, almost like leaves in the wind.

They are so enormous that they take up the entire sky from the side I am looking at. The ground darkens. They are flying so close to the ground, and that really scares me. God, they must practically be scraping the tops of the trees!

They are beautiful. They seem to be doing this specifically for my mother and me to watch. I have never seen anything more amazing in my entire life.

I am breathless as I watch them flutter over the treetops, so gigantic, so fantastic. I can get a really good look at them from here. Most of them are like long, silver wingless cylinders, bobbing on unseen currents of energy.

Some have open doors on the side and are hollow and metallic inside. Others seem to be better flyers, better at maneuvering. None of them look like anything that should be in the sky. They do tricks in the air, and they are fantastic, zipping around with the agility of the finest insects.

Then, something happens. I am shocked. They are so huge, so close to the ground; too close. One stray craft, filling the sky, noses down a little too far, and this three or four block – long mass of metal crashes into the ground, though there doesn’t seem to be a noise or any shaking.

One of them has landed! It seems like it happened so close; it could even be right over at the next street. I have to, we have to, we must go see it. We must find out what it is, who is inside, how it got here. I can’t believe this happened. I knew he was flying too close to the ground.

There has to be something I can do to help him. I have to find him. I have to go see. I know it is so huge; oh my god, it’s so huge, so beautiful, so fantastic … aren’t his friends going to help him? Come on, Mom, we have to go see, we have to, this is the greatest thing ever…

Somehow, we are in the backyard now. I look out at the hollow space and see the trees there. The trees are alive. The trees are gigantic. The leaves smile back at me in the brilliant sunlight. T

he air is electric, alive, intelligent. But the trees are not alone. No, not alone. Somehow, I don’t know how, but somehow, the empty patch of sky that is supposed to be behind those fantastic, tall trees is no longer there.

In its place is a gigantic, looming gray tower; much taller than the trees; much taller than anything; it is far, far too big; far too big; impossible.

Good God, the size of that tower! Impossible. Impossible. I am flying. They are flying. I see where they come from now. There it is. I am flying up over it now, and I can see it.

The tower is connected to an airport; some sort of tower they can use to see out of. The craft are floating around lazily in the air.

They have a home here. Many more are parked on the ground. It is all organized so neatly in rows. Everything is gray in color, the ground, the tower, the craft. I am here. I am back. I am home.

This is the airport. It seems like I just left this place, and now I am back. It is all so familiar, so beautiful; I belong here. I have come back now; it’s been so long. So long, so sad, but at last I am finally home.


Ripped back into the waking state, I sit up in bed. Oh no, not again. Not again. I am still here, still in this same room. They are gone, gone, gone. I want them back. Oh god, please bring them back.

I don’t want to be here. Please. There has to be a way to get back. I am here, and I am all alone. Where are you? Where are you? I miss you, I want you back. Please. I want you back.

I am crying, crying, my face is wet, please come back, don’t leave me here. Please come back. Please come back. I need you, so desperately I need you. Don’t you see I am crying?

Why don’t you answer me? I need to find you, I need to know, I have to find out how to get back there.

In my personal journal, after writing the above passage, I wrote the following:

Even now as I write this, the overwhelming feelings of grief and abandonment wash over me, and I am literally in tears.

The emotional potency of those dreams was so intense that I still have never felt anything like them in my life. I would tell these dreams to my mother, hoping for an answer, hoping for some understanding.

To my utter amazement, she described quite similar dreams; dreams of gigantic, cylindrical spacecraft that filled the sky, complete with the most awesome feelings anyone could ever feel. Something really bizarre was going on.

After a day or two, life would return to normal for a short time, until the next dream. There was rarely a dull moment.



I found myself asking this question one night in the spring of my first year of school as a Kindergartner. I awoke to the strangest sensation; I felt very light, and had no idea why I felt that way. I realized that the ceiling was quite close, closer than it should be.

I had the extremely peculiar feeling that I was floating. I reached down, and my hand went down — too far down. What the hell? No bed? What is going on?

I looked down, sort of by turning over in space, and I saw something I never, ever thought I would see. There was my own body in this dark room, lying in bed and sleeping peacefully! I was surprised, amazed, at what I was seeing. I was still me, yet there I was: it was my own body, but I was now on the outside looking at it!

So who the hell was that in the bed, if I was up here? How did I all of a sudden become two people? I looked at my second body that I was now in, and I realized that I still had on the same pajamas that I was wearing in bed; the bright yellow football pajamas with the red cuffs for the wrists and ankles.

Those pajamas are still here, right in back of me as I write these words. I saved them for the rest of my life, and never wore them again after this. I would often wonder why I was still wearing them, even though I was in some sort of spirit body. Shouldn’t I have been naked?

I was dumbfounded as I watched myself sleeping away in bed. My door was always left open at night, and I suddenly turned to face the hallway, feet first, floating flat on my back. I was now floating a mere foot below the ceiling, and everything around me continually looked the same. This was not like a dream, where everything around you keeps changing.

In this particular case, nothing changed. I was the same person, looking at the same house, and as I floated through it, the house stayed constant. It was quite a hell of an experience. I could see the round, bubbly glass of the upstairs hall light appearing between my feet as I approached it. I could really see it up close and get a good look at it.

At that point, I started to get the feeling that I wasn’t the one controlling the experience. There seemed to almost be voices in the background, several of them, all whispering and watching me very closely. I definitely felt that I was not alone in this.

The next thing I knew, my body turned and sloped on an angle to prepare to go down the stairs. I got a sudden mental flash of going downstairs, out the door and up into space.

Oh, my God! I am going somewhere! I didn’t want this, and I wasn’t controlling it! What the hell is going on? Am I dead? Where am I going? Will I ever come back? Put me down!

My young mind screeched in terror, sending out a powerful thought-current. The next thing I knew, there was a snapping ricochet-type effect, and I popped back into my body and shot up in bed, staring around the room. Something really strange had happened to me, and I wasn’t sure exactly what the hell it was.

All I knew was that a part of me existed outside of my physical body, and that this was what must happen when you were dying. I wasn’t ready to die and the whole thing kind of freaked me out. Of course, no one believed me, not my parents or Mrs. De Masi, my kindergarten teacher. They all brushed it off as “only a dream.”

But I knew it wasn’t. Where the hell would I have gone if I hadn’t been afraid? Perhaps I ruined the whole thing; I just somehow wasn’t ready for it. It would have been the ride of my life, and I was too “chicken” to go. I somehow needed to get just one more chance, one more, and I could prove that I had what it took to not be afraid.

It is now clear that soon afterwards, my non-terrestrial family began to meet and speak with me in my dreams. Another repetitive dream seemed to occur inside of a spaceship. A robed being of light similar to Obi Wan Kenobi from the movie Star Wars was there, and we were walking down this great hallway together.

To the left was a solid wall that was a little unusual-looking and gray, and to the right were many tall windows, about a foot wide, that were separated by vertical bands. The dividing bands ran the whole length from the floor to the ceiling in thin strips, and seemed to have yellow, glowing lights inside of them.

The windows themselves seemed to have some kind of black, gridlike detail on them, and the whole thing was very unusual and alien in appearance. I would make more dream visits to different parts of this ship as I got older; after all, this was Home.

“You have to learn balance,” he said. “You are here for a very important reason. You must learn to use your mind to contact others like us. Many things are going to happen to you, and you must be ready for them. You are going to change quite a bit as you get older.

“You have a very important mission, and you must not forget that. The whole world is going to change, in a way more fantastic than you could ever possibly imagine. We will be with you and prepare you for this, so don’t be afraid. You will not remember anything we have told you until the time is right.”

It seemed that he gave me a great deal of information. This scenario is more hypothetical than actually remembered literally. I do remember the hallway and the conversation, but I could never quite remember what he would talk to me about when I woke up.

The fact that I was programmed with things I would remember later slipped out through my subconscious in many ways that we will see soon enough.

I tried as hard as I could to convince anyone else of what had happened to me on the night of my OBE, but no one would listen. It was simply brushed off as imagination. I knew better, and I was determined to find out the answers.

There was a dim connection that was made in my five-year old mind between the OBE itself and the UFO dreams. Could this have been my big chance to meet with them, I thought? Did I “mess everything up” by being too afraid? And what were those voices that seemed to be whispering in the background as all of this was happening?



I had to know what had happened to me that night; I had to get to the bottom of things. I was now convinced that I had a spirit-body that existed outside of my physical body. All I ever wanted was to learn how to make myself consciously go into another OBE so that I could have the chance to do it all again.

This time, I would ride it out and go wherever I was supposed to be taken. But how on Earth would I figure out how to induce a conscious out-of-body trance state?

My mother told me that this and many other paranormal phenomena all went under the umbrella term of ESP. We will shortly see that by the time I was seven, I had gone down into the basement and discovered the book “How to Make ESP Work For You” by Harold Sherman.

Though it was an adult-level book and I was in second grade at the time, I read it cover to cover and began practicing the exercises within the book. But let us first develop the case for my motive to do such an incredible thing at such a young age.

The paradox of whatever it was that happened to me in the OBE would not die, refused to die. I simply could not file this away as mere chance. I now knew I existed outside of my physical body. But there was more.

From my vantagepoint now, it is clear that during the out-of-body experience, a part of my identity was taken somewhere and programmed with information. A definite timeline of when things were supposed to happen snapped into place, and the course for the future was set. Big changes were ahead, and I would start feeling them right away.

One of my earliest conclusions at age five or six was that if we had this spiritual body that could float around and seemed to be made of energy, we certainly should be able to communicate with others who were also drifting around in their own energetic body.

I certainly wasn’t different from anyone else, and I had just experienced an OBE, so everybody had to have one of these energetic counterparts to the physical body. I figured that it since this body was very much alive and real, it was a part of me that had to be quite active, going around, doing things, talking to people.

Our regular minds might not normally be in contact with this body as I had become, but this body would do all of its psychic work just the same.

I started to notice that I was able to read people’s minds; in fact, I also assumed that they could read mine equally well. I knew that they probably didn’t know that they could do this, but they would pick up on it just the same.

This led me to physically exert force to try to stop myself from thinking anything bad about someone else, because it seemed obvious to me that their higher body would hear it. It seemed to make perfect sense.

Many curious examples of my psychic abilities came to light, and I asked my mother what it was. She said that it was called ESP, and that everyone had it. I saw things on television about it, but I also realized that no one really believed in it.

By now, two years had elapsed since my OBE, and I had found no real answers to the problem of what had happened. My parents did not seem to believe me nor have any explanation for it, so I was determined to find one on my own.

There were literally no books available that said anything about it in the card catalog at the school library, so I had to search further. I wandered down into the basement of my house and started looking through my parents’ book stacks.

To my great surprise, the big letters ESP stared back at me off of one of the book spines, and I eagerly pulled it out and opened it up!

Right away, I realized that there were a lot of words in it that I couldn’t make out, but I could use context to figure out what was going on.

I was scared at first of a book with so many pages, such small letters and no pictures, but it quickly wore off. I was so fascinated by the subject that reading it became top priority, and I spent hours trying to understand everything that the author was saying in those yellowed pages.

The book was “How to Make ESP Work For You” by Harold Sherman. If everything that Sherman said in this book was true, then the scope and power of the human psychic ability, in the hands of an adept, could be nothing short of Earth-shattering.

The cold, hard reality of ESP hit my young mind like a freight train.

In the beginning section of the book, there is a description of one of Sherman’s earliest telepathic experiments, where he wanted a friend of mine to wake up at a certain hour.

They agreed that they were going to try this, but Sherman wouldn’t tell him what day or what time he was going to try it. The guy ended up waking up exactly when Sherman said he would, and practically jumped out of bed, feeling Sherman’s presence in the room with him.

I was so fascinated by this that I jumped ahead to the point where he gave specific instructions on how to get into this telepathic state. Following his basic instructions, I raised each limb of my body separately until it was tired, and let it go down, all the while breathing very deeply.

This produced a state where I didn’t feel I had a body anymore, that I was just a point of awareness. It was important to send the message when the other person was sleeping, so I waited until it was late. Then, I concentrated on the image of my friend Eric’s face, and came up with a message for him.

Eric, you will wake up at 3:30 in the morning and think of gold.” I got the idea to put the part about gold in after I had already started, in order to give my experiment an even deeper layer of proof than what Sherman had used.

I figured that if it would work like this, if Eric actually got up in the middle of the night and then somehow thought of gold, there was no need for me to ever wonder again whether telepathy and ESP was real or not.

After more than an hour of very intense concentration, I finally let myself stop. Several times I had felt the relaxation that Sherman describes as indicating that the message had been sent, but I wanted so badly for it to work that I kept on doing it anyway.

The next day, in the second-grade section of the cafeteria where I now ate, I sat next to Eric, which was standard practice for me. Trying to be as nonchalant as possible, I asked him how he slept the night before.

“You know, it’s really funny that you asked me that,” he said.


“Well, last night I woke up in the middle of the night! I was wide awake and I could not go back to sleep! I felt like there was someone in the room with me, like a ghost or something.”

I was overjoyed and totally amazed, but I very carefully hid my enthusiasm. By god, it worked! He had no idea that I was working on ESP at all, so there was no possibility of him expecting something like this.

“Any idea what time it was?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was about 4:30 in the morning.”

[I was disappointed; he was an hour late! But I transmitted it for about an hour longer than the book said I needed to.]

“Well, what was the first thing you thought of?” I inquired.

“I thought of my watch.”

“What color is your watch?”



Now the full impact of what I had really done started to dawn on me. I had never been inside his bedroom, never knew that he had a gold watch. I always used a clock to see what time it was when I was in my own bedroom.

I was numb, cold, shocked. I told him what happened and I could hardly believe it. Neither of us could believe it.

Soon afterwards, we were determined to try other things. One of the things which was very successful was throwing small sticks up into the air and asking them to point in a certain direction.

Even though we would try to always throw them the same way, standing in the same place, they invariably would land wherever we told them to, over and over again. We were convinced something was going on, and we had to tell the others.

The next thing you know, Eric and I assembled a group of guys together out by the old kindergarten door in the parking lot. Now that I knew that ESP really did work, the idea was to see if I could accurately read their minds.

It had to be something relatively simple, so I decided to try numbers one through ten. I had the guys go off and huddle into a group and decide on a number together, then walk back and stand in front of me. I would simply wait to hear the very first number that popped into my mind, and then tell them what it was. I got it right every single time.

After the fifth or sixth time, they hatched a plot. They wanted to see if they could fool me. They picked two numbers when they went around the corner and came back, expecting me to guess the first one correctly, without guessing the second one.

Then, they were going to go back there again and choose a fake number. The correct number would actually be the second one that they had initially chosen.

I guessed their first number correctly, and they seemed rather unimpressed by now. As they started to walk away at about 30 feet, huddling in to each other and giggling, I got the strangest feeling of urgency. I knew something was going on, that they were trying to trick me.

In my mind flashed a giant 7. I didn’t even know why, but I was certain that I was right, and I started laughing. Out loud, I said, “Come back, come back, it’s seven.”

Their jaws just about dropped, and no one needed any more convincing. As far as we were all concerned, it was real. 100 percent accuracy was good enough to convince us! I never stopped and thought about why it was working so well; I just knew that it would work.

Eric and I had seen the classic psychic experiments on TV that used the Zener cards with five symbols. We decided to make our own cards; some had numbers, others symbols, and others pictures. I still have the entire deck of them.

I told my second grade teacher that I wanted to do a show-and-tell on ESP for the class, and she agreed to let us do it. We both traded off as the sender and the receiver this time, and we got some decent results.

There were a lot of misses, but there were a couple of direct hits, even though the deck was well shuffled and the other person could not see the cards. The class absolutely loved it, but I was disappointed that it didn’t work as well in that public setting.

So, as we have just seen here, within months I was getting spectacular results. I knew what people were thinking even if they didn’t tell me, I had correctly guessed numbers one through ten with friends, I had telepathically influenced friends to wake up in the middle of the night, and I had detected when family visitors were nearby without any conscious knowledge.

I was able to use intuition to arrive home from bicycle trips at the exact minute that my mother wanted me to come back, and even had limited success in drawing rainstorms and wind towards my house.

I could throw sticks up in the air and announce which direction they would point before they landed. I sensed when I was being looked at or talked about. And on and on and on…

I continued to read books throughout my childhood, with topics including ESP, Hypnosis, dreams, astronomy, chemistry, electronics, psychology, paleontology, computers and fiction.

By the time I was in Junior High, I was learning to play the drums, reading regularly, using Tarot cards and Ouija boards and vividly remembering my dreams. I would tell my mother of the fantastic experiences that I would have in the dream plane, and she would urge me to write them down as she also did.