The Mtstery Chronicles

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by Joe Nickell


  During Mrs. Matteson’s career, the Erie County Medical Board tried to end her “practice,” and she was repeatedly arrested for “practicing medicine without a license.” However, it is said no grand jury would ever indict her (Whitcomb 1923). Interestingly, one of her daughters managed to graduate from the Buffalo Medical College, despite hostility from the profession on account of her mother’s identity (“Mrs. Matteson” 1929).

  In 1910 Mrs. Matteson retired, turning over her business to another daughter, Mrs. Nellie Whitcomb, who was also a spiritualist and had been her mother’s “assistant for thirty years.” Antoinette “Passed to Higher Life” on 11 October 1913, and Nellie continued to act as “wholesale and Retail Agent for the Old Original Mrs. J. H. R. Matteson’s Psychic Clairvoyant Remedies” for a number of years (Whitcomb 1923).

  “Sleeping Prophet”

  In February 2000, while in Virginia to lecture at the Old Dominion University in Norfolk, I had a chance to visit the Association for Research and Enlightenment (A.R.E.) in nearby Virginia Beach. Founded in 1927, it promotes the life work of Edgar Cayce, the so-called “Sleeping Prophet,” who uttered prognostications and gave medical readings while supposedly hypnotized. The A.R.E. library includes bound volumes of transcripts of 14,306 Cayce readings.

  Born in 1877 on a farm near Hopkinsville, Kentucky, Cayce was a “dreamy” child, especially prone to fantasies. For example, he had imaginary playmates. Although his schooling did not go past the ninth grade, he worked in a bookstore and read extensively—especially about mystical subjects, including what today would be called “alternative” medical practices. Cayce became a photographer and operated a studio in Hopkinsville, where he met a man named Al Layne. Layne had been thwarted in his desire to become a doctor and instead took cheap mailorder courses in hypnotism and osteopathy, a forerunner of chiropractic that emphasizes “manipulation” (special application of the healer’s hands to joints, muscles, and so on).

  Cayce soon discovered that he was a good hypnotic subject—he could even put himself into an alleged trance. In that condition, he gave people readings concerning their health, as he was apparently able to diagnose illnesses and prescribe effective remedies for them. He became known locally as a sort of eccentric folk doctor. Then, on 9 October 1910, the New York Times Sunday magazine ran an article that boosted his reputation. Headlined “Illiterate Man Becomes a Doctor When Hypnotized—Strange Power Shown by Edgar Cayce Puzzles Physicians,” the article began: “The medical fraternity of the country is taking a lively interest in the strange power said to be possessed by Edgar Cayce of Hopkinsville, Ky., to diagnose difficult diseases while in a semiconscious state, though he has not the sligh test knowledge of medicine when not in this condition.”

  Note the exaggerations in the article, beginning with the first word of the headline. Cayce was far from “illiterate,” and in fact his various diagnoses suggest that he was heavily influenced by osteopathy and other quaint theories of healing, obtained from books and from his association with people such as Layne. Most of his early readings were given with the aid of Layne, the osteopath, who asked questions while Cayce was supposedly entranced. According to Cayce critic Martin Gardner (1957, 216-19): “There is abundant evidence that Cayce’s early association with osteopaths and homeopaths had a major influence on the character of his readings. Over and over again he would find spinal lesions of one sort or another as the cause of an ailment and prescribe spinal manipulations for its cure.”

  In addition to osteopathic manipulations, Cayce prescribed electrical treatments, special diets, and various tonics and other remedies. For a baby with convulsions he prescribed “peach-tree poultice”; for a leg sore, something called “oil of smoke”; and for a priest with an epilepsy-like condition, the use of “castor oil packs.” He offered several remedies for baldness, including giving the scalp a rubbing with crude oil and “Listerine twice a week.” He thought almonds could cure cancer, and for an ailment called dropsy he prescribed “bedbug juice” (Gardner 1957, Nickell 1991).

  FIGURE 24-2. The author studies Edgar Cayce readings at the Association for Research and Enlightenment library.

  As I looked over some of the thousands of transcripts of “patient” case histories on file at the A.R.E. library (FIGURE 24-2), 1 was horror-struck by some of the prescriptions. For example, for poliomyelitis Cayce recommended a mixture of “½ gal. pure gasoline / + 1 oz. oil of cedar / 1 drm. camphor gum / [and] 1 oz. oil of sassafras.” This was to be massaged, he directed, into “lumbar centers and the brachial centers, and over the cerebro-spinal centers themselves” (Cayce n.d.).

  Such bizarre treatments do not inspire confidence, but the question remains: How could Cayce apparently diagnose people’s illnesses from hundreds of miles away? James Randi (1982, 189) explains that “Cayce was fond of expressions like ‘I feel that...’ and ‘perhaps’—qualifying words used to avoid positive declarations.” He adds: “Many of the letters he received—in fact, most—contained specific details about the illnesses for which readings were required, and there was nothing to stop Cayce from knowing the contents of the letters and presenting that information as if it were divine revelation.” At times Cayce was hilariously inaccurate, providing diagnoses of subjects who had died since their letters had been sent! Unaware of the fact, Cayce simply rambled on in his usual fashion. For one, he prescribed an amazing mixture made from Indian turnip, wild ginseng, and other ingredients. As Randi says of Cayce’s failure to know that these patients were deceased, “Surely, death is a very serious symptom, and should be detectable” (Randi 1982, 191-92).

  As such incidents indicate, although he was touted as a seer, Cayce’s prognosticatory ability left something to be desired. He failed to foresee his own arrest, in New York, for fortunetelling! When Pearl Harbor was attacked, Cayce was “as stunned as anybody else” (Stearn 1968, 16-17). Sometimes his forecasts were ridiculous: For instance, he predicted that Atlantis, the mythical sunken continent, would rise again in the 1960s. Of course, it did not (Nickell 1991).

  Edgar Cayce died in 1945, apparently without foreseeing his own end. Those who still insist that he had some special powers come from the ranks of Cayce’s fellow mystics. Even the A.R.E., in a book of extracts from the readings, cautions, “Application of medical information found in the Cayce readings should be undertaken only with the advice of a physician” (Turner and St. Clair 1976).

  Today’s Crop

  The field of so-called medical intuition has grown with the New Age movement, and gained considerable attention in the 1990s with the publication of several books on the subject, including the best-selling Why People Don’t Heal and How They Can. Written by Caroline Myss (1997), a Ph.D. “who has a background in theology” (Koontz 2000, 102), it claims that she and others can divine illness by some sort of psychic means—in Myss’s case, by reading “the energy field that permeates and surrounds the body” (often called the aura) (Myss 1997, xi). Although Myss herself no longer gives readings, she is involved with a “holistic” physician, C. Norman Shealy, in a program to “certify” medical intuitives (Koontz 2000, 66, 102).

  Another physician who touts—and also practices—medical intuition is Judith Orloff, M.D., a psychiatrist. She wrote Second Sight (1996), a book about her alleged psychic abilities and an unintentional demonstration that—typical of those in the field—she has many of the traits associated with fantasy-prone personalities. That first book was followed by Dr. Judith Orloff s Guide to Intuitive Healing (2000). She asks, “What could be more natural than a doctor with psychic insight who can heal not only with medicine but with energy?” (Orloff 1996, 352).

  Alas, in contrast to objective, scientific medicine, which continues to make important breakthroughs in identifying and treating diseases, injuries, and other illnesses, “energy medicine” is based on mysticism and pseudoscience. Often incorporating such New Age fads as astrology, yoga, and reincarnation, it is part of what Myss terms “the alternative healing community.” The “he
alers” offer varied procedures. For lupus, for example (an ulcerous skin disease that Myss admits has “essentially no cure”), the faddish healers may offer “treatments” ranging “from acupuncture to visualization to aromatherapy.” For those who may be squeamish about acupuncture, there are such alternatives as acupressure (which foregoes the needles), reflexology (limited to pressure on certain zones of the feet), simple massage, the biblical “laying on of hands,” or even “therapeutic touch” (a misnomer for merely passing the hands over the subject). In addition, there are “talk therapy,” crystal healing, herbal remedies, homeopathy, meditation, and, of course, prayer. “Skilled physician” is listed as just one among many possibilities (Myss 1997, 102-103, 148).

  Almost anything will do. Myss encourages individuals to believe: “There are no wrong choices. Every choice I believe in is an effective means of healing.” Her caution to “get a second and even a third professional opinion” is weakened by her definition of professional to include virtually all types of “holistic” practitioners. “Any treatment,” she states, “that can enhance your healing and bring hope and strength back to your body is worth considering” (Myss 1997, x, 144, 159). Nowhere does Myss cite any scientific double-blind experiments in support of such alternative treatments. Instead, she merely offers the old feel-good remedies of “spirituality,” the power of positive thinking, and the placebo effect.

  Although the intuitives do not dismiss “conventional” medicine, their advocacy of “alternative” and “complementary” treatments may lead desperate seekers to just such a dismissal, with potentially tragic consequences. That is why I told New Age magazine that medical intuition was not only pseudoscientific but, in a word, “dangerous” (Koontz 2000, 102).

  Caroline Myss’s philosophy is that ” [o]ur lives are made up of a series of mysteries that we are meant to explore but that are meant to remain unsolved.” Such mystery-mongering naturally leads to occult, mystical, and magical thinking. A more enlightened view would hold that mysteries should be neither fostered nor suppressed, but rather carefully investigated in hopes of solving them. Indeed, one can see the progress of civilization as a series of solved mysteries. This is the attitude that led to the development of polio vaccine and the eradication of smallpox. “Energy medicine” can boast of no comparable successes.

  REFERENCES

  Baker, Robert A. 1990. They Call It Hypnosis. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.

  Baker, Robert A., and Joe Nickell. 1992. Missing Pieces: How to Investigate Ghosts, UFOs, Psychics, & Other Mysteries. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.

  Cayce, Edgar. N.d. Readings (A.R.E. Library), vol. 10, no. 135-1, M. 24, p. 2. Doyle, Arthur Conan. [1926] 1975. The History of Spiritualism. Reprinted New York: Arno Press.

  Gardner, Martin. 1957. Fads and Fallacies in the Name of Science. New York: Dover.

  Illiterate man becomes a doctor when hypnotized. 1910. New York Times (Sunday magazine), 9 October.

  Koontz, Katy. 2000. The new health detectives. New Age (January/ February): 64-66, 102-110.

  Matteson, Antonette [sic]. 1894. The Occult Family Physician and Botanic Guide to Health. Buffalo, N.Y.: Privately printed [copy in author’s collection].

  The Medium and Daybreak. 1875. London, 13 August, 527.

  Mrs. Matteson, Clairvoyant. 1929. The Times (Buffalo, N.Y.), 14 February. (Clipping in “Local Biographies” scrapbook, Special Collections, Buffalo and Erie County Public Library, vol. 22, p. 306.)

  Myss, Caroline. 1997. Why People Don’t Heal and How They Can. New York: Harmony Books.

  Nickell, Joe. 1991. “The Sleeping Prophet”: Edgar Cayce. In Wonderworkers! How They Perform the Impossible, by Joe Nickell, 76-83. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.

  Orloff, Judith. 1996. Second Sight. New York: Warner Books.

  ------------ . 2000. Dr. Judith Orloff s Guide to Intuitive Healing. New York: Times Books.

  Randi, James. 1982. Flim-Flam! Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.

  The singular death of Mr. Matteson. 1884. Buffalo Express, 18 March. Stearn, Jess. 1968. Edgar Cayce—The Sleeping Prophet. New York: Bantam Books.

  Turner, Gladys Davis, and Mae Gimbert St. Clair. 1976. Individual Reference File of Extracts from the Edgar Cayce Readings [note on copyright page]. Virginia Beach, Va.: Edgar Cayce Foundation.

  Whitcomb, Nellie. 1923. Advertising flyer for “Mrs. J. H. R. Matteson’s Psychic Clairvoyant Remedies,” containing a biographical sketch of Mrs. Matteson. Copy in University Archives, University at Buffalo.

  25

  Alien Abductions as Sleep-Related Phenomena

  In his book, The Communion Letters (1997), self-claimed alien abductee Whitley Strieber, assisted by his wife Ann, offers a selection of letters Strieber has received in response to his various alien-abduction books, particularly the best-selling Communion: A True Story (1987). A careful analysis of these letters is illuminating.

  The 67 narratives that constitute The Communion Letters represent, the Striebers claim, what “could conceivably be the first true communication from another world that has ever been recorded.” Selected from nearly 200,000 letters, those in the published collection, they assert, “will put certain shibboleths to rest forever”: namely, that the phenomenon is limited to a few people, that people are always alone when abducted, that the events are recalled only under hypnosis, and that the abductees are attention-seekers (Strieber and Strieber 1997, 3-4). (For a discussion of the role of hypnosis in claims of alien abduction, see Nickell 1997.)

  Be that as it may, the accounts are really surprising for the prevalence of simple, well-understood, sleep-associated phenomena related therein. Most, for example, include one or more experiences that can easily be attributed to some type of dream.

  The dominant phenomenon in the accounts—albeit one that is little known to the public—is clearly the common “waking dream.” This occurs when the subject is in the twilight state between waking and sleeping, and combines features of both. Such dreams typically include perception of bright lights or other bizarre imagery, such as apparitions of strange creatures. Auditory hallucinations are also possible. Waking dreams are termed hypnagogic hallucinations if the subject is going to sleep, or hypnopompic if he or she is awakening (Drever 1971,125). Frequently the latter is accompanied by what is known as sleep paralysis, an inability to move caused by the body’s remaining in the sleep mode.

  In the Middle Ages, waking dreams were often responsible for reports of demons (incubuses and succubuses) which, due to sleep paralysis, sometimes seemed to be sitting on the percipient’s chest or lying atop his or her body. In other eras, waking dreams have been common sources of reports of “ghosts,” “angels,” and other imagined entities (Nickell 1995, 41, 46, 55, 59, 117, 131, 157, 209, 214, 268, 278). Now, as the collection of letters to the Striebers demonstrates, these experiences are producing reports of “aliens” and related imagery. Some 42 of the 67 narratives include one or more apparent waking dreams.

  For example, one man wrote:

  I’d wake up and my heart would be pounding as if I was frightened. I’d also see two white lights, one slightly higher than the other, flying or floating across my room in a descending motion toward the floor. ... I would have what I called a ‘dream,’ although I felt that I was totally awake because I could move my eyes. My body would be completely paralyzed. I couldn’t yell or scream, but wanted to” [Strieber and Strieber 1997, 87].

  Another man reported:

  At night, after my parents would put me to bed, I’d often see small, very white round faces with huge black eyes staring in at me from outside my bedroom window. Sometimes it was only one, but often it was several. ... I saw them several nights a week almost into my teens [37].

  Still another man wrote: “When I was twenty-three I woke up one night to find a little gray man on the other side of my room. He looked about four feet tall and had very large orange cat eyes. I later learned that this was my ‘guardian’” (135).

  A woman reporte
d:

  One night while soundly asleep and in a dream state, the dream was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise and the appearance of a stark white face and head, which faded into and out of focus several times, directly in front of me. Although I felt I was fully conscious, my eyes were closed. ... I convinced myself that I’d experienced some unusual form of nightmare [58].

  As these accounts show, some of the “abductees” do not report paralysis, although others describe that effect without imagery. For example, one wrote: “I woke up into one of the strangest experiences of my life. I was awake, could feel and could smell and think and reason, but I could not see. ... I experimented with every part of my body to see if I could move; I couldn’t. There was a flashlight a few inches from my head, but I couldn’t make my arm respond to my mental commands” (40).

  Sleep paralysis accompanying a waking dream may well be a major factor in convincing some “abductees” that they have been examined by aliens. Consider this woman’s account:

  I often found myself being awakened in the deepest night by a feeling of someone touching me: pushing my stomach; poking my arms and legs; touching my head and neck; what felt like a breast exam and a heaviness across my chest, and someone holding my feet. This seemed to go on for three nights. On the last night, I vaguely saw, in my efficiency] apartment, a “little man” running to and around my refrigerator. My door was always locked, as were the two windows.

  Then one night I woke up to find myself in a strange room, strapped to a table, with my feet up. I felt that my lower half was undressed. . . . On another later night, I woke up strapped to a table in a reclining position [250-51, emphasis added].

  Another phenomenon reported in The Communion Letters is the out-of-body experience (OBE). This may be associated with a waking dream, as in this woman’s account:

 

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