#21-Story Continues: Angels in the Desert?

Image: Store Card

 

Richard, Lee and Mr. S. were the main conversationalists and I was mostly a silent witness. Lee did however invite me to his home in northern Arizona to learn more about the Meier case. I was totally mesmerized by the stories I’d heard that most probably never will be publicly disclosed.

Over the course of the next few weeks I was quite busy trying to save my business. In between, I was studying all the Meier material I had and the Hoagland material. I was, as usual, blown away by the possibilities.

One day, about two in the afternoon on a Wednesday, I was alone in the store. I was frustrated and depressed. I called out to the empty air…“God! What’s happening! What can I do? Help me!”

Twenty minutes later I got my answer.

A woman dressed like someone caught in the sixties, a tie – dye skirt and white ‘ T ’ style peasant blouse and open toed sandals. Her hair long to her back and straight. A classic flower child look. She walked up to me at the register and said ...”Hello…I ‘m here.” accented with a nice smile.

I answered something like, “Welcome, how can I help you?” 

She answered, “I think it’s more likely that I can help you.”

“What do you mean ?” I said, thinking she wanted to sell me something.

“You did ask God for help didn’t you? I’m here in answer to that request.”
My mind was spinning, wondering how she could have known … was she outside when I voiced it? Had she heard?

“How do you know I need help at all?”

“Spirit told me. We were driving by your store when I got the message to come here and give help to the man I would find here. That is you.”

“Who’s we?” right then a young man came into the store.

He too was dressed right out of the sixties. He appeared to be my age about thirty something. The lady was in the same age category only appeared younger. Her name was Judith and he was Robert. Different last names but a couple.

Judith told me she was being given instructions to invite me to their place in the desert for something she called a ‘reading’. I asked what that was?

Robert spoke up...” Judith is a very good channel. She will give you a path to talk with spirit for help.”

My mind thought back to one of the books on my shelves by Shirley MacLaine, called DANCING IN THE LIGHT. She tells about channeling. My religious upbringing taught that such things were inherently evil. They must be Gypsies practicing occult magic! She had invoked God though. I agreed to go the next day even though I felt suspicious.

I was instructed by Judith to bring five questions I felt I needed answered.

Image:One of my 2 stores. This is the opening day of Casa Grande location.

The rest of that day and that night I was troubled. I spoke to nobody about the invitation. It turns out that they lived only a mile or two from my home. Their abode was a silver Airstream parked near a small green painted house about 30 years old. Nearby was a newer structure called The A.R.E. Clinic on Cayce Lane. I had no idea what that clinic was but, the word clinic made me think it was medical.

There were perhaps twenty homes on five to ten acre parcels, like my little desert neighborhood, except these homes were older and much less expensive than my neighbors. These were quite near the Interstate 10 freeway to Phoenix and Tucson. You could see the A.R.E. Clinic from the freeway. Funny I’d never noticed it before and I’d lived here for nearly 5 years.

Later, I would learn that every house in that group was there because of the clinic owned by the Edgar Cayce organization known as the Association for Research and Enlightenment.

IMAGE: View through window. Nice stores.

Judith was apparently like Edgar Cayce. A sleeping prophet. There were thousands of pages of her “channelings” available, unpublished at the time. I did not know this then though. To me they were 1960’s Gypsies. That thought judgement  actually embarrasses me today.

Image: Inside BookCentre

I had not written down my questions yet. How does one ask questions of “spirit”? I hurriedly wrote five questions on a 3×5 note card I had in my pocket from the store. I walked up to the door of this old hacienda style, green painted, stucco house. Many potted herbal plants were scattered around the path and doorway. Chimes and colorful banners flew from overhangs and tree limbs of nearby Paloverde and Ironwood trees. On the door hung a large wooden symbol of some kind.

I knocked feeling stupid for doing this. I was wondering how these Gypsies would rip me off.

A tall man, at least my height of 6’3″, in what appeared to be mid to late sixties answered. He had a big warm smile and great white bushy eyebrows over sparkling,  intelligent, blue eyes. His hair was somewhat unkempt  silver gray. Skin tanned like leather. He was wearing a loose fitting tunic affair like a Mexican native. On his neck hung a bola tie with an Egyptian Ankh in rosewood. His name was Harold. Judith’s father. He was, I know now, a Rosicrucian.

He ushered me into his home. It was a hot Arizona day outside at 11:00 am , but inside a cooler 80 or so. He asked his wife Maude to fetch me a cool glass of sun tea. Maude was about Harold’s age. She reminded me of the lady that played Granny in the old TV show the Beverly Hillbillies, Irene Ryan. She too was kind and gracious. The kitchen smelled of fresh baked bread and everywhere I looked there were crystals. On the floors, in windows, on book shelves, tables … everywhere along with many multi-colored, unlit candles. The air smelled of exotic spices of some kind.

I felt like I’d stepped into another culture or world.

I had.

 

Continued next post.