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Introduction


haper One


Prologue


"Look, I'm telling you. There are psychics out there who are actively involved with our lives. They're apprehending terrorists and spying on other countries, strictly by using their minds. There also are some who are directing government foreign policy with the approval of top world leaders. Christ, I'm not crazy. I saw some of these things with my own eyes. I attended a seminar and I was able to do some of those feats myself. Anybody can train themselves to use their minds to make anyone do what they want them to do. You're the darn editor. You tell me what I should do with the story?"
"Christ, I don't know. It sounds absolutely absurd. How can I justify printing the story? Do you have proof?"
"You bet I do. It all started about fifteen years ago. The US military was all gung- ho about using psychics in military warfare and they intentionally used US military attaches as the recruiters of psychics world-wide. Don't take my word. I have a manuscript. Read it and judge for yourself. It's a true story by someone who was very much a part of this elite group."


During the mid-nineteen seventies, the American-Soviet cold-war had reached its high peak and was beginning a downward spiral. It would eventually come to a conclusion in 1989, when the Soviet Union would begin to break apart. A number of high placed Soviet military and intelligence officers sought political asylum in the United States as the cold-war eased between the Americans and the Soviets. The defectors had informed their new found hosts of an intelligence program established in the Soviet Union, to the chagrin of the Americans. The Soviets had been using highly trained psychics. They were using their psychic abilities in a way that surprised the Americans. The Americans had considered the use of psychics. They had decided however, that the use of psychics would not be advantageous for the American military or intelligence establishments.
The Soviet defectors had informed their hosts that the Soviet psychics had been capable of disrupting foreign diplomat's thinking processes. Those psychics were also capable of tracking American military hardware. That was of greater interest to the Americans. They were informed that the military hardware could be located any place in the world. The psychics had been able to pin-point American nuclear submarines around the globe, strictly by using their minds. Just as important, the Americans were also advised that the Soviet psychics had been capable of remote viewing any secure top-secret American military location. The psychics had been capable of spying on those locations without even leaving the Soviet Union.
A major push was then initiated by the Americans to find western psychics who would be capable of offsetting the breaches of security after those revelations had been related to the American military and intelligence establishments. The military and intelligence arm, of the American government, had gone on a rampage to seek out qualified psychics world-wide. Their successes had been few and far between. When they believed that they had found someone who could match the feats of the Soviet psychics, to their chagrin, within a short period of time they had found that the western psychics would not be "operational". The western psychics could not adhere to the stringent covert, secrecy environment, that they had agreed to abide by. The psychics initially had believed that they were "prima donnas" and they were not able to take orders.
The American psychic program had become the "brunt of jokes" at the hands of the internal military and intelligence staff who were not associated with the program. Rumors circulated that the program was going to be canceled.
There had been very little success in developing the American's "psychic warriors" until 1977. Ironically, a Canadian psychic would renew the American's Psychic Operations Program. He would establish a criterion that would be followed by a number of additionally recruited psychics. They were to be recruited from around the western world. I know this for a fact because I was that psychic.
There are going to be a lot of people who will not believe my story but that's just a fact of life. There are so many books and movies such as "The Scanners" It is a movie about psychics who use their minds to create physical havoc on people solely by the use of their minds. There are books written by such well-known authors as Jack Anderson, a reporter for the Washington Post newspaper. He has written a book about the American military's use of psychics. The books and movies have partially touched on the truth but these samples of the books and movies are only figments of one's imagination.
Humanity as a whole, firmly believes that they are in control of their life but that is a fallacy. Take my word for it. For what I am about to relate to you, is the truth. A number of things that we do in this world are directed by unseen forces. These forces are not forces from some other world. They are forces of a kind, that you only read about in science fiction and mystery novels. There will be many detractors who will not believe me when I tell them "they are not always in control of their lives". Except for a number of scattered newspaper articles, if someone tries to confirm what I am about to relate, they will be told the standard answer. "We can neither confirm or deny your inquiry." This type of reply will be a standard answer, particularly from the government sources who are mentioned in my story.
There are however, four books that have been published by some well-known authors. They do in fact confirm a number of the events which are documented in my story. Three of the books are: Operation Morning Light by Leo Heaps; The Flying Bandit by Heather Robinson; and, Psychic Warfare by Jack Anderson, who is the well-known columnist with the Washington Post newspaper.
The fourth book describes my talents with a little animosity and extreme jealousy. Extrasensory Deception by Henry Gordon has four different stories about my interaction with police and security forces. Henry Gordon is a well-known outspoken critic of psychic phenomena. His animosity, which was directed towards me, began while we were taping a television show in Montreal, Quebec. We were featured on the program. Henry Gordon, to his chagrin, had finally met his match when he became determined to take me on and understood that I was quite a bit more knowledgeable about psychic phenomena than he had been. After that program, Henry not only featured me in his book, but he also had written a number of articles about me. He had a daily column called "Debunking" in the Toronto Star newspaper. The column continuously slammed anybody who believed in anomalous events. Henry had suffered embarrassment that while taping the television program. I can readily state his articles about me were not too flattering.
Although, some books do relate to many of the major events that will be highlighted throughout my story and to my participation in those events, those books only touch the surface of my involvement's. They do not however relate the circumstances behind the scenes.
One of the most recent published stories that does relate to government agencies using psychics and astrologers, was published after President Ronald Reagan, of the United States, completed his second presidential term in office. A number of books and articles have been published which describe how the White House had been directed by an astrologer. Those stories only touched the tip of the iceberg.
Over the last number of years, I have been actively involved in saving the lives of presidents and prime ministers. In conjunction I was actively involved with apprehending terrorists; freeing hostages and apprehending their kidnappers; finding lost aircraft; and, helping to solve some of the worlds most difficult unsolved crimes. I accomplished those feats strictly using my psychic abilities. For those of you who prefer to sit back smugly and discount what I have just related to you, I would like you to allow me the benefit of the doubt. Before you judge too harshly, I would like you to answer one question that I have.
Do you honestly believe that all governments world-wide are telling you the absolute truth? I could rest my case on your answer being a "no". What I intend to prove to you is that a number of people who are labeled as psychics are in fact influencing government policy and are actively involved with police, security and intelligence forces world-wide. They have perfected their talents to such an extent that they are now considered renegades by the government establishments who had initially sought out their services. Since the government agencies were not able to control the renegade psychics, through normal control methods, they subsequently lured vigilante psychics to their fold. Their ultimate purpose was to mentally disturb the minds of the renegade psychics. To date, they have only been partially successful. The war of the "psychic mind stalkers" began a few years ago. Fact or fiction! That is for you to decide. I know what the truth is because I was one of the first, international, "psychic mind stalkers."
Well, here is my story. So you understand the exact complexities of what you are about to read, let me explain how it all started.
It all had started a number of years ago. Throughout my early childhood, I had gained a reputation with women. My reputation spread like a wild-fire, when one woman, who I had dated, had told her friends that I had a special talent. It seemed that I had impressed her, when I had accurately analyzed her during one of our dates. I had realized that I could quite accurately define my dates' needs and their ambitions. Some of my female friends had said that I was psychic. I shuffled that notion off and attributed my talent to an inquisitive mind. It was enjoyable, however. I became one of the most popular students at my school. Dates became extremely easy to come by. My dates had wanted to date me because they knew that I would then tell them how their futures would evolve.
Passing my adolescent period, I had finally reached puberty and realized it was time to seek a career. I ended up with the opportunity of talking my way into a fire-fighter's position. It was with the Prince Rupert Fire Department in Prince Rupert, British Columbia. Prince Rupert is situated on the north-west coast of Canada. It is approximately fifty air miles from the Alaska-Canadian border. Prince Rupert is actually located on an island, surrounded by high mountain peaks. It has the distinction of having the world's second deepest natural harbor. In 1966, it was a booming northern city.
I had been working as a firefighter for over four months, when I experienced a profound change to my reality that I deemed an impossibility. Because of that change, I instantly would become highly intuitive. In one's terminology, I would become a full- fledged psychic.
The fire department had received a fire call quite late one night. Driving to the fire scene, I had instinctively felt that that fire would be different from all the others. Without a doubt, I had known that I would be the one who would find a victim inside the fire location. I could visualize the interior of the house and for whatever reason, I had known entering the premises would be difficult. Arriving at the fire scene confirmed my premonitions. Spectators who had been standing outside the burning house, had told us there may be children inside the house.
We had tried to enter the premises through the front door. We found the front door was not able to be opened because of the heat from the fire. I seemed to know that if we would go to the back door, I would subsequently be able to get into the house. When we arrived at the back door and tried to enter the house we had found the door immovable. We were unable to get into the premises. It had seemed as if something had been pushed against the back door and no matter how hard we had tried to shove the door open, we were not able to succeed.
Standing at the back of the burning house, I turned to our fire chief. "Buster, if we can break in this door panel, I could crawl through the hole and then I could open the door.", I asked.
Our fire chief had accepted my advice. The hole was opened. Dense, dark, suffocating smoke bellowed through the opening. I crawled into the opening of the door. There, pushed tightly against the door was a large freezer unit. With strength, which I never knew that I had, I immediately pulled the freezer unit away from the door entrance and I opened the door for the other fire-fighters.
After I had opened the door, for no comprehensible reason at all, I headed straight through the dense smoke up a flight of stairs. As I ran up the stairs, something had been telling me to go immediately to my left when I had reached the top of the stairway. As I had turned to my left, I had immediately noticed a dark, smoke-filled room. It turned out to be a bathroom. Inside the bathtub was a young boy who was no older than eight years old. Lying beside the bathtub was his sister. She would be only two years old. Neither of the children had shown any vital signs.
I had yelled for my other colleagues to help me remove the children. I instantaneously felt a tap on my shoulder. Standing behind me was my Lieutenant. He was a crusty but lovable son of a bitch.
"Take it easy Kid. I'll handle these two. You look for the other one," he matter-of- factly had ordered me.
I could not believe what had happened. I had realized, I had known where all the children would be, but I had also truly believed that I would be the one who would save them. Instead, I had two dead children on my hands.
Trying to compose myself, I ran into another room and saw another child. He was only five years old. He too had showed no vital signs of life. I could see the anguish in his death. I had thought I could help him and, without hesitation, I had put my fist through a glass window and I called to one of my colleagues that I had found another child. My mind at that time had gone instantly blank. To this day, I still remember absolutely nothing about those lost minutes. I had stared vacantly at the dead child. At that time, I could not even move. The eerie feelings that I had had as I vacantly stared at the dead child, finally were overcome when I had seen blood dripping from my hand.
After realizing I had cut my hand and with my mind still totally distorted, I imminently headed down the stairs leaving the dead child lying on the floor. I ran to the ambulance at the scene.
"I cut my hand," I yelled.
"Christ, Earl, the kids are dead. Forget your hand," one of the other firefighters yelled back at me.
"What do you mean the kids are dead?" I confusingly queried.
"You found them. Just relax. Everything is going to be okay," one of the firefighters had answered.
I had not fully realized what had actually happened until the following day. I had awaken that morning a little shell shocked, but otherwise I had felt in good shape. As I had entered the fire station kitchen, I stupidly had asked how the children fared. The distraught faces on the rest of the firefighters had shown precisely what the end result had been.
"Earl, do you know what happened last night? Do you really?" One of my colleagues had asked.
As I turned toward my colleague to answer him, I knew I had had no idea what had transpired the evening before. I had inadvertently blocked the whole event from my mind. I had not realized that I had experienced a case of total amnesia. My mind was blank. Except for one thing. I had evolved with a clear understanding about how I had found those children. It had been due to my gut reaction, or intuition as some people like to call it. Instinctively, I had been drawn to the areas where the children eventually would be found. I had been guided by some external force. I had not been in control of my own thoughts or feelings.
I did not have the stamina to watch little children perish without just cause. I had recognized that I did not have the mental fortitude to continue working as a fire-fighter. I felt that I needed a career move and relinquished my short career as a fire-fighter. Those tragically deceased children would stay etched in mind forever.
It would be a few more years before I would realize that that situation had changed my understanding about life. I would come to the conclusion that I could control the way that my life should evolve. Deep inside me, I firmly believed that I should have saved those children but at the same time, I did not understand how. The frustration, which I had felt, would plague me for years to come. Yet the events, which had led me to my discovery, would create a determination in me to develop a technique that would help me alter those types of situations in the future. I had discovered that there "was" a way to change reality. Theoretically, I had always known that life was not fatalistic. I would, after my revelations, make it my life's work to prove my theory.
Little did I know that there were a number of others, world-wide, who were on the same path as I. Eventually some of us would meet face to face. During some of those meetings, I would discover that there was always two sides to every story. The war of the psychic mind stalkers would begin to unfold.

The early nineteen-seventies became known as the Age of Aquarius. The New Age revolution had begun. Astrologers and psychics were surfacing and proclaiming that they had all the answers. New written material had flowed into the book stores. Each new book had documented one psychic feat after another. Millions of people became caught up with this new psychic revolution. I caught up as well as everyone else.
I always had a deep interest in anomalous phenomena. As the many psychic books began to enter the market, I became an avid reader. I was a glutton for information. I was possessed with wanting to find out if psychic phenomenon was real or imaginary. The psychic books had convinced me that there, at least, had to be some truth to the matter. Some of the writers' skills were able to entice me to try to develop my own psychic abilities. The path that I had taken would be considered obsolescent today. In those days, the whole psychic industry was very much alive, but underground. Secrecy was the mainstay of those who were interested in psychic discoveries. Not one had wanted to tell anyone else they had had an interest in such follies. I searched out the believers and was directed to the only place available at that time. It was within the spiritualist churches. They were scattered across the country. The Fox sisters had become headline news stories in the early thirties. They purportedly communicated with the dead. A large secret following of the sisters became believers of the unknown. They had organized and established covens, worldwide, under the guise of spiritualist churches.
The spiritualist churches were the beginning locations for psychic development. They offered demonstrations by those who were developing their intuitive skills. Yet more important, they offered courses in developing ones own skills. I had frequented those locations for five years. Eventually, I too had become a "spiritualist medium". I had learnt to communicate with the dead, or so I had believed. Ultimately, I would understand the far reaching effects of my skills. I would discover that the communications went far beyond communications with the dead.
My mediumistic talents had attracted a large following of believers. I personally believed that I was being superficial in my beliefs. Be as it may I had become a frequent guest speaker in the spiritualist churches and an avid purveyor of ghostly communications. I had avidly pursued other avenues to self-discovery as well. The professional psychic community in Toronto was growing with leaps and bounds. I had befriended a number of these (sic) professionals. Many of those friendships would fall by the wayside as I became cognizant of the imperfections in their talents. One individual whom I had great respect for though, would ultimately help me establish my credentials with some very important people. Michael Blake Read was known as a trance-psychic. He would place himself in a trance-like-state and allow his vocal cords to be manipulated by some exterior force. He purported that the voice that emanated from his body was a voice from a multidimensional alien. I could not argue with his philosophy because on a number of occasions he had accurately pin-pointed difficulties in which I had been involved.
In the middle of my psychic quest, I had started a very lucrative plastic manufacturing business in Toronto, Canada. Within four years I had built the company up to sales in the millions. My company's decisions and growth were initially based on my intuitive insights. The growth of the company happened so rapidly that I could no longer trust using my intuition alone. It was necessary to begin to also use my presumed business expertise as well. Ironically, I would reach a saturation point with my business expertise and I would end up losing my business to inexperience.
At the height of my business success I had a sixteen-room country home with four cars in the driveway. Shortly thereafter, I would be scrambling around for cash just to pay my bills. After I had been living a life of luxury for four years, all of a sudden I had found myself out of funds. I had no idea, how I would recoup my losses or, how I would be able to make enough money to survive.
Once someone becomes involved with psychic research an uncanny situation unfolds. Those who have an interest in psychic phenomenon are drawn to each other. Synchronicity governs their lives. Meetings take place in the most unusual ways. An interesting feature unfolds as someone develops their talents to higher levels. Each meeting draws those of the same caliber toward each other. Earlier friendships are laid by the wayside, if one's talent does not match yours. The higher the growth, the more it becomes necessary to find someone stronger to share and exchange their experiences. The guru market became commonplace in the early nineteen seventies. Myself and a number of others were not seeking gurus. We were seeking psychic companions who could help us hone our talents. I would discover that those friendships were necessary. Each new communication would bring a new awareness to the forefront. I learned that when the new communications took place and as we spoke, I would be able to create mental imagery in correlation to the information that I was receiving. Reflecting on my mental visualizations, I unscrupulously recognized that some of the events that I had visualized did happen. In fact, I began to understand that everything I could mentally visualize would become real. I had learned how to change reality.
For me, 1977 could be scribed as my year of no return. The summer months had seemed endless. I still had not determined exactly what I had wanted to do. I had searched endlessly, trying to find employment, to no avail. My financial resources were becoming nonexistent. To supplement my income I had quietly consented to do some psychic counseling for friends whom I had met at the spiritualist churches. I continued with my impromptu career until, unexpectedly, an old friend of mine suggested an alternate.
"Earl. There is going to be a psychic fair this weekend in Hamilton. I'm sure there will be a lot of people attending," Hassan Jaffer, my astrologer friend, informed me. He then continued. "You need the money! Why don't we get a booth? You can do your psychic readings and I'll do astrology readings!"
"Come off it, Hassan! I'm not going to put myself on display! I still have a reputation to protect! I am trying to find a job and who knows who will attend that fair," I said as I adamantly began rejecting his suggestion.
"Look. For years now you have proclaimed to be able to tell people their futures. You have had a few clients! Why don't you give it a try?" Hassan adamantly persisted and with his hands waving in the air he said, "Earl, you have nothing to lose. Besides! You may be able to make enough money to pay your rent."
Well! Hassan was right as usual. I was broke. I had needed five hundred dollars in four days to pay my back rent. I also needed an additional thousand dollars to pay my next months rent and I did not have the funds.
"Okay, Hassan we'll go. But under one condition." I said as I resigned myself to his suggestion.
I was beginning to be fed up with the way the psychic industry had been heading in those early days. The psychic paraphernalia and trappings were becoming obscene. Self- proclaimed psychics were dressed in long flowing gowns. Beads and religious artifacts were hanging around their necks and, turbans or outlandish headdresses, were the norm.
"If we're going to go then let's do it right! Let's change things around a little bit. We can add a little more professionalism to the field. Let's not go to the fair dressed like everyone else! I want to give the people another image of psychics which they deserve. Why don't we get properly dressed and go in three piece suits? What do you say, Hassan?" I had suggested.
"Hey, that's a good idea!" Hassan said agreeably. "All right. I will arrange for the booths and let's see what happens."
Hamilton, Ontario is an industrial city populated by a large majority of blue-collar workers. I had surmised that the steel-workers, who worked in the number of steel mills in the area, were probably not the type to go to psychic fairs. But I decided to let the chips fall were they may. Hassan Jaffer had encouraged me when he stated "He had recently traveled to the area" and, "He did have a number of regular clients in the area who would be at the fair." Be as it may I had decided to make the best of the trip to Hamilton. I had convinced myself that I would work my heart out. I would prove to myself, once and for all, whether I conclusively had psychic capabilities.
Who could have imagined what would have happened next? Neither of us had been prepared for what happened although I considered myself intuitive and Hassan was one of the top astrologers world-wide. That weekend we became the glory boys of the Hamilton Psychic Fair. The press was just becoming interested in psychic stories and we were both flooded with newspaper and television reporters. Hassan and I were the chosen spoke- persons by the media. We were not the norm. We presented ourselves as educated, professional, dedicated purveyors of the unknown and we were interviewed by virtually every media personality at that fair.
Our clients were lined up for hours waiting for their turn to be told their futures. We were the hit of the show. Our counterparts were aghast at what we were accomplishing. They had also viewed a new twist to the psychic business. The public would no longer buy the "bullshit" that was associated with over-dressed, phony people who infer to be something that they are not. Financially, that weekend, I had made my rent money and I also had ended up with extra resources. I had found my forte.
What happened during the first day of the fair was unimaginable. The first evening, a very distraught woman became one of my first clients. As she had sat down in the chair, which was in front of my booth, waiting hesitantly for her session, I could not help noticing her appearance. Her eyes were darkened. Her hair was matted and was not combed. Her face was void of color. I knew that I had to relieve her stress any which way that I possibly could. Her anguish was even beginning to bother me. I could feel my own emotions running rampant. The feelings I had been experiencing had not been to my liking.
All that I could do for her, throughout the session, was to encourage her to pull herself together. I had stressed over and over again to her that her life was not as bad as she had presumed. I had tried to show her that the difficult experiences that she had been facing had been self-inflicted negative thoughts. If she had truly wished to correct her problems, imminently the place to start would be with her appearance. I had tried to convince her that she was important and if she did indeed need a friend for encouragement subsequently I would be available.
After I had finished my first day's work, and after I retired to my hotel suite, I could not get that client out of my mind. As my mind raced rampantly, I finally drifted off to sleep. As I slept, I had a dream about the woman and me. In that dream, I had tried to console her. Just like the session at the psychic fair, I had tried to make her understand that she was not alone. If she tried, she could alter her perception of her reality and I would spiritually be there to support her.
That following evening while I was doing a lecture for the attendees at the psychic fair, my eyes were drawn to a person at the back of the room. I knew that I knew the person but I could not quite place her face. As our eyes met, I realized she was the person who was my client the day before. The smile and self respect that was shining on her face was totally unexpected. After my lecture, as I headed back to my booth, the person ran up to me, hugged me and could not thank me enough for helping her. She subsequently related to me, that the evening before, once she returned home from the fair, and after she had fallen asleep, that she had a dream. In that dream, I had continuously held her close and I had been giving her verbal reassurances. When she awoke the following morning, she had felt that her whole life had changed. She decided to correct her problems and to get on with her life. A change of her reality had taken place.
I privately questioned myself whether someone could actually enter the dream states of another and then alter their perception of reality. I would find out the truth to my query at a later time.
The next psychic fair was to be held two weeks later in Ottawa. It is Canada's capital city. Ottawa is one of the most beautiful cities in the world. The city is surrounded by a green belt that stretches along the Ottawa River to the suburbs. The floral arrangements, during the summer, are scattered amongst the many parks throughout the city. The longest man made canal network winds its way through the heart of the city and ends peacefully at the feet of the Parliament Buildings. Grand stone structures are intermingled with modern office towers and high-rise apartment buildings. Portions of the downtown core are littered with elegant renovated Victorian styled homes. Across the river from Ottawa is Hull, Quebec. Hull is the largest city west of Montreal, Quebec. In comparison to Ottawa, Hull distinctly is considered Ottawa's country cousin. The close proximity of the two provincial cities gives the Ottawa-Hull Region a distinct collage of language and nationalistic personalities. Scattered amongst the strong French and English residents, is virtually every other world nationality, since all the foreign embassies that are assigned to Canada are located in the Ottawa Region.
The psychic fair in Ottawa would be the stepping stone to my success. Because Hassan and I had received such rave reviews from the press in Hamilton, the organizers of the psychic fairs had asked us to go to Ottawa early to be guests on a number of radio and television talk programs to promote the fair.
In 1977, CKOY AM-Radio had been one of the most listened to live audience radio stations in Ottawa. It had been established between Hassan and me that I would be the guest on that station and Hassan would be a guest on CHEZ-FM. Between the two of us, we would make psychic history. Both stations were avidly listened to by some very influential people. Our on-air performances would attract those people to the psychic fair.
Bill Roberts, the host of the radio program at CKOY, was a seasoned talk show host. He was an avid reader of scientific journals. Some of the articles that he had read had dealt with ongoing scientific research into paranormal activities. I had heard that he would not accept the usual psychic crap. I realized that I had to convince him that there was something to some of the published stories that he had in his possession. The stories partially concluded that psychic phenomena were real.
During our pre-air interview I had told Bill that I could make anyone whom I chose call into the radio program while I was on the air. I must admit I did not know how I was going to do it. I was just trying to impress him and I never would have believed that he would take me seriously.
"Ladies and gentlemen. This morning my guest is Earl Curley. He proclaims to be a psychic! I don't know what others think. But I want to reserve my opinions until after the show. Earl Curley informed me earlier that he had the ability to make anyone that he wanted to call into the program. Okay Earl. You're on. Prove to me and our listeners that you can do what you told me that you could do," said Bill Roberts as he flashed a wide grin in my direction.
I had sat there dumfounded for a few seconds because as I had stated earlier I had not expected Bill to take me seriously. "That bastard. He really wants to stick it to me. Do not choke up now," I could hear myself think. "This is your only chance. Screw up now and it's all over. Put your money where your mouth is."
"Good morning Bill. As we had discussed earlier, I have a technique which I use to send a mental message to others and, as a matter of fact, I can have them do what I want. We can start, with your permission, by using this piece of paper. I have written a name, some general information and the problems that will be addressed. Now. I don't want you to announce to the audience what is written on this paper.", I stated as I handed Bill the paper that was clutched in my sweating hand.
"Earl, are you telling me that the name you have written on this piece of paper will call in?" Bill had asked as he watched me rapidly shake my head in the affirmative. Shrugging his shoulders he immediately continued, "You have to be joking? Okay! If you are so sure of this information then we will announce a special number, besides our regular call-in number for the show. I want you to have the person call into that number only,."
"Christ," I had thought. "How the hell am I going to do this?" I had figured the best thing to do was to just let nature take it's course, do a good show with the regular audience and let the cards fall where they may. "But in the meantime," I also had secretly thought to myself, "I had better do some quick back-tracking and figure out how I intend to pull myself through this mess."
For the next hour and fifty minutes the telephone lines were hot. Caller after caller had called into the program. Instantaneously, I proceeded to answer all their personal questions. I even answered subconscious questions which they had hesitated to ask. Throughout the program, Bill Roberts had just sat in his chair and shook his head in disbelief.
"Earl, how can you be so accurate with people you have never met before? I just can not believe this! I am totally astounded! I must say that I am convinced that you do possess an unusual talent," said Bill as he quickly took a drink of water.
Oh, I had possessed an unusual talent, all right. But the special phone line had still not rung. We were in our last five minutes of the program when all of a sudden the special line rang. I had held my breath because I had felt that the telephone call was going to be my downfall.
"Good morning, Bill. I felt that I had to call. I don't know why I had such strong feelings. But I did!" The caller stated as she tried to mask her enthusiasm.
"Wait a minute," I had thought, "This is not the caller who I had specified would call at the beginning of the program."
"I'm sorry Bill. But this is not the caller who I had wanted to call. I'm sorry to say this. But this person called the extra line solely to get on the program because all the regular lines are busy. Isn't that right, madam?" I said with reservations.
"Well. Yes I did. But now that I have reached you why don't you tell me about myself," stated the women as she tried to worm her way into a free psychic reading.
I immediately asked Bill to hang up on the caller to free the line. Within seconds after he had hung up, the line rang again.
"Bill. I missed most of your program because I was shopping. As soon as I got home, I had this stupid feeling to call your program. Isn't it weird? I have never called your show in the past," said a woman who sounded extremely distraught.
My stomach churned. I knew that was the person who I had felt would call in. I immediately had motioned to Bill to hold the caller on the line. I had asked him to ask the caller what her name was and whether the information, which I had written, was accurate or not.
"Caller could we get your first name please," asked Bill as he began his dissertations.
"My name is Betty," the caller responded.
The name I had given to Bill Roberts had been Elizabeth.
"Caller," I chimed in, "What is your actual birth name?"
"Well my birth name is actually Elizabeth but everyone calls me, Betty."
"A hit!" I had excitedly thought. I actually had been able to do what I had said I could, I had surmised. The next immediate thought that entered my mind was whether I had been just extremely lucky. The other information which I had secretly given to Bill was that Elizabeth would have two children. One who would be eight years old and the other five years old. One would be a boy, the other would be a girl. But the real problem, which I had perceived, was that the little girl would be very sick with a liver problem and that illness would require an immediate operation if the child was to live, or die. I, with caution, had inquired whether the caller did indeed have two children and what had been their ages.
I was shocked when Elizabeth had confirmed that she did indeed have two children who were aged as I had specified. "How did I do this?" I had internally questioned myself. "I have had hits before but nothing like this. Maybe there is an outside force that does controls us," I had continued to think. But we had to finish the show.
"Elizabeth. Is your daughter ill at this moment?" I had asked.
"Well. She has been a little under the weather lately and, just yesterday morning, I took her in for tests to the Children's Hospital. I don't know what the results are as yet," answered Elizabeth with slight tones of concern.
"Elizabeth. I don't want to frighten you, but I do believe that a problem that your daughter may have could be a liver failure and I strongly suggest that you have the problem immediately attended to."
Bill Roberts sat there aghast. All he could do was sit there staring at the paper which I had given to him at the beginning of the program. I couldn't stop grinning. I had been successful. I had actually made someone call into the program. I did wonder however whether I just intuited that the caller would eventually call in. I would not discover the real truth until three years later.
Needless to say, the publicity which Hassan and I had received from our shows was endless. Three days after the radio program had aired on CKOY, Bill had received a call from Elizabeth while he was on-air. She had stated to Bill, "Earl had been one hundred percent correct". Her little daughter did indeed have the liver problem. The doctors had informed Elizabeth that if they didn't operate immediately the child could succumb to the disease. After that program every newspaper reporter in Ottawa had wanted an interview. It had seemed they had listened to both the programs and they had to find out for themselves if Hassan and I were for real or not. Television reporters were clamoring to feature us on their news broadcasts. For the five days which lead up to the psychic fair, Hassan and I would become the media stars.
Ottawa's first psychic fair was an international success. Over ten thousand people attended the fair and, business wise, I couldn't have asked for more. Hassan and I were not even able to stop for something to eat or drink. For sixteen hours, each of the three days of the fair, we were swamped with clients. Unbeknownst to either of us, some of our clients were covertly investigating us. As time would pass, our paths would cross again in the most unusual ways.
The Ottawa Psychic Fair was such a financial success, that I had decided to make a permanent move to Ottawa, during the winter of 1977. I had nothing left in Toronto to hold me there. I had a feeling that something was drawing me to the Ottawa area. As well, I had dollar signs in my eyes. Although my plastics manufacturing business had been an early financial success, I had never seen such a lucrative business market as Ottawa presented itself to be. It was decided that a move to Ottawa would be apropos.
With the help of a friend I had set up a location to do private consulting. After the psychic fair a number of clients who I had not been able to do psychic readings for, at the fair, kept calling me in Toronto They were inquiring when I would next be in, Ottawa. After tallying up the callers, I had realized that I was sitting on a psychic gold mine. Because of the media successes, I had known that I would also be in constant demand for guest appearances on a number of the local Ottawa radio and television talk programs and assuredly those appearances would keep my clientele base active.


The Psychic Mind Stalkers

Copyright 1992 Earl Gordon Curley


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If you need more convincing, try Chapter Two - The Initiation


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