Interview with Rayelan Allan
The following is an exclusive interview conducted with Rayelan Allan, Founder/ Editor of The Rumor Mill News Agency, a web-based news magazine that was started by and for government whistle-blowers. http://www.rumormillnews.com
At one point in her life, Rayelan was part of the New Age community and believed she had been chosen to receive channeled messages from the star system Sirius. After a strange set of circumstances, she found herself married to a Naval Officer who, at the time, was also the number 3 man in the CIA. From him, she learned that the channeled voices were originating from a more earthly source. . .namely the Office of Naval Intelligence.
Through a bizarre journey that included a trip to Austria where her husband revealed that not only was he a Knight Templar but that the messages that had been transmitted to her in these “channeling” sessions came from ancient manuscripts the Templars had retrieved from King Solomon’s Temple during the middle ages. Rayelan discovered that many New Age channels are receiving messages in the same way she received them, via modern technology. She also learned that there are several competing factions involved in these transmissions.
Rayelan’s amazing story will take you beyond the world of channeling, into the covert side of the U.S. Intelligence world, the New World Order, alien technology and more!
This interview was conducted via email over a period of months by Theresa de Veto Founder/Editor of the web magazine Surfing The Apocalypse–on the internet: http://www.surfingtheapocalypse.com.
The views expressed here are not necessarily the views of Surfing The Apocalypse or the interviewer.
Q: Rayelan, most people who know you know you as the publisher of Rumor Mill News, one of the most respected of the Internet alternative e-magazines. You were the wife of the CIA operative who was dubbed “The October Surprise Pilot”, and you are the author of a book on the death of Princess Diana.
Your public image is that of a researcher and writer who is trying to alert people to the danger they face from a group of powerful people who believe in a One World Government. You are also the one who has introduced the concept of Two Factions that are vying for control of the world.
But there is much more to Rayelan Allan than the side you present in Rumor Mill News. You were successful and well known long before you married CIA operative, Gunther Russbacher. You traveled the United States giving workshops and private sessions. You lectured at the United Nations. You were active in politics and were considering going to work for a Senator on Capitol Hill.
I would like to explore some of the other aspects of your life. One of the most fascinating to me is your book, The Obergon Chronicles. I would like to begin with it.
Q: What are The Obergon Chronicles?
A: The Obergon Chronicles are a series of biographical stories about beings from the star system Sirius who came to earth.
Q: Where did the Chronicles come from?
A: I “channeled” them, in the same way New Age Channels bring through their information.
Q: Who were these “beings” from Sirius, and why did they come to earth?
A: It is my belief that many humans carry the souls from Obergon. They came to earth because their home planets (Obergon was the ruling planet) were destroyed when their sun, (also named Obergon) became a red giant. The beings were not finished with their lessons on the material plane when their worlds were destroyed.
The elder brothers and sisters were sent out to prepare a new planet which would become a “school” for the younger souls. This new planet was Terra…. Earth. The Obergon Chronicles are the stories of the misadventures these older brothers and sisters had while trying to fulfill their missions and create a planet that was suitable for the continuation of lessons by the Children of Obergon.
The stories that make up the Obergon Chronicles not only deal with the difficulties involved in preparing a new planet to receive a new class of students, but they deal with personality traits such as vanity and lack of compassion. The stories are focused on certain main characters who appear to represent the archetypes found in all sentient life. The seven deadly sins and the seven virtues are presented, but the stories don’t use a sledgehammer approach to pound home their point. If anything, the stories are told in the same way an onion is peeled.
Each story makes the reader’s mind expand to the point that the reader is able to take on new concepts. In the dedication, it says that the Obergon Chronicles are dedicated to the Children of Obergon.
The stories that are included in “The Obergon Chronicles” mainly deal with four characters. Atalon and Raelon are two souls that were created as an experiment. Their father, Odon, was trying to create a Super soul. At some time in the future, Atalon and Raelon will join together for a mission that only a Super soul can perform. The other two characters are Shalma and Xanos. They are one soul that has split into two souls so it could very quickly complete its lessons in the material world and gain the knowledge it needed to perform its primary mission on the planet Terra.
There are many other minor characters in these first stories. Bits and pieces of their stories were “dictated” to me, but I have never taken the time to piece them together. These minor characters each have stories of their own that will make additional books.
Q: How did you come to write the Obergon Chronicles?
A: I had no choice. I know this sounds funny, but it is the truth! I was racing to get to an appointment in Los Angeles. I had just sold a short fantasy book to Disney and I was on my way to sign the contract. I was rushing to get out the door and into my car. The drive from my house to Los Angeles was about six hours, and I had a 5PM appointment.
I had been “receiving” messages from “outside” my own consciousness for about three years. “Channeling” is what the New Age movement calls the phenomena. The messages I was hearing were dictated to me by a man’s voice. At the time I was receiving these messages I genuinely thought I was a New Age Channel who was receiving messages from an assortment of ascended masters.
That day, as I was racing to get out of the house and into my car, the voice of my regular “teacher” i.e. spirit guide, said, “Sit down, we need you to take some dictation.”
I protested saying that I would miss my appointment. The voice became so loud and persistent that there was really nothing I could do but sit down and “take dictation”. Two stories were “dictated” at this time. The first story in the Obergon Chronicles, “Atalon and Shalma” was dictated, and “The Story of White Eagle” was dictated. At the time, I did not realize the two were related. They are completely different, but they illustrate lessons the Children of Obergon need to understand.
Q: How did you feel about it when you first began to hear this voice? Did you think it was time to see a psychiatrist?
A: In the late 70’s, when I began to hear voices, I had just graduated with a BA in psychology. When I first heard the voices, I believed I was manifesting all the symptoms of schizophrenia or multiple personalities. I didn’t want to tell anyone about it, and yet I knew I needed to talk to someone. I called a psychiatrist and told him I was “depressed”, and made an appointment. After several appointments, the psychiatrist told me that nothing was wrong with me and I was simply “opening up” spiritually.
At the time, I did not question this, I just thought that I had been lucky enough to find the “one” enlightened psychiatrist in the area. Now I wonder if the “psychiatrist” I called was working for the government!
He told me about a healing circle that met in Carmel, California, a few miles from my home. Dorie D’Angelo, the Angel Healer of Carmel was the leader of the group. I began attending Dorie’s healing circle on a weekly basis. Through the people I met at the group, I realized there was a whole world I never knew existed. The people who attended these circles did things and talked about things that I had never even imagined.
Q: What made you think you were a “new-age channel?”
A: I met a woman at the healing circle who channeled a being who gave people advice, sort of a cosmic Ann Landers. She volunteered to help me understand what was happening to me. After working with her and her spirit guide for a few weeks, I came to believe that the voices in my head were part of a burgeoning phenomena that was soon to be called “channeling”.
On the advice of the friends I met through the healing circle, I started taking a Yoga class. I also studied nutrition, meditation, healing, spiritual awakening and a whole array of things that are now labeled “New Age.” I mention the “New Age” label only because at the time I got into all of this, the term had not been created. The term “New Age” arrived at about the same time Shirley Maclaine came along. At the time I stumbled into this world, it was called simply, “Walking the Spiritual Path.” Most of us who had been “walking the path” felt that Shirley Maclaine’s approach to spiritual truths was like instant oatmeal; it filled you up, but lacked the real nutrition.
You asked if I felt I was going crazy? The answer is yes. Even through a psychiatrist had certified me “sane” and assured me I was only “opening up” spiritually, at home and in my social life, I was surrounded by physicists and their wives who would have thought I was insane if I had told them what was happening to me. Because I was married to a physicist and understood his mindset, I knew there was no way that any of our colleagues could understand what I was going through. I knew if I opened up and said anything about my spiritual path, it would cause problems for me and my husband.
The world we lived in was so different from the way things are today; that I can barely believe it was only 25 years ago. I would like to take a moment to try to paint a picture of the world I was living in when I began hearing the voices.
In 1975, when I became the wife of the Chairman of the Physics Department at the Naval Postgraduate School, the military tradition and formalities were still grounded in the 1950’s. The Postgraduate School is where members of the military go to get Master’s degrees and PhD’s. It is the graduate division for all the military academies.
The culture of the School was anchored to the formal military way of life. The formality had been fading ever since the Viet Nam war, but when I got there in the mid 70’s, it was far from gone. I was told by the other wives that I HAD to join the Faculty Wives Club and eventually I had to head it. The woman who led me through the paces, and taught me what I had to do to fulfill my duties as a Chairman’s wife, was the wife of a retired chairman. She invited me to a “wives luncheon”. She told me that the women “dressed” for these luncheons. I had no idea what she meant by the term, “dressed”. As I walked into the luncheon, I felt I had stepped back into a world of southern elegance and gentility.
Having been a Haight Ashbury hippie seven years earlier, the change was like night and day. I quickly learned that my wardrobe did not fit in. My platform shoes and mini shirts had to go. I replaced them with afternoon “tea suits”, sensible pumps and gloves. I was part of a world I didn’t understand, and I was sure they wouldn’t understand the “Spiritual Path”.
I made the decision not to discuss the things I was learning in my classes and through books with any of the faculty members or their wives… this included my husband. Because of this decision, I began living a double life. During the day, while my husband was at work, I read, attended classes and had friends over for tea and talk.
In the evening, we had social commitments, and I became the perfect hostess and wife. When my husband was promoted to Dean of Science and Engineering, our social engagements increased. As the wife of a Dean, I was expected to do a lot of entertaining. I often had a house filled with heads of the military academies, scientists from Los Alamos, high level Washington bureaucrats, Admirals, Captains, Congressmen and Ambassadors. Talking about my life on the spiritual path was something I wouldn’t even have considered doing at these parties.
At the time, I was not interested in politics, the military, government or any of the things that fascinate me now. I learned to be a good cocktail conversationalist. It is surprising the things you can at learn at “cocktail parties”. Can you imagine what I could have learned if I had asked the right questions, rather than just listened.
Q: You state that “the messages were dictated to me by a man’s voice.” Was this voice “inside your head,” or was it as if someone was in the room speaking to you?
A: The first time it happened, I really thought someone was in the room with me. I began hearing the voices during one of the only times in my life that I was not working outside the house or going to school. The only thing I HAD to do each morning was feed my white cat and our three-legged German Shepherd. One morning, as I walked past the dining room table on the way to feed the animals, I thought I heard something. I looked to see if the radio was on, or if my husband had come home. There was no one around and the radio and TV were not on, so I figured it was something outside. I fed the cat and dog and started to walk back to the bedroom.
The dining room table was in front of a wall of windows. The picture windows looked out over a forest. There were no curtains or blinds on the windows. The view of the forest was completely unobstructed. As I passed the dining room table, on my way back to the bedroom, I heard the voice again, this time more clearly.
“Get a pen and paper,” it said. “We’re going to teach you how to take dictation.” I looked around because the voice was so loud and clear I really thought someone was in the room with me. In other words, the voice WAS NOT in my head. It appeared as if it was coming from somewhere in the house. I didn’t know what to do, so I followed orders and picked up a pencil.
The voice spoke again, “I said, get a pen.” I could hear annoyance in his voice as he explained further. “A pencil makes too much noise, it will distract you. Get a pen.”
“Oh my God”, I thought, “Not only am I hearing voices, but the voices can SEE me.” I put down the pencil and picked up a pen. I sat down at the table and pulled a white note pad to me.
The voice explained further, “A white pad will reflect too much light. While you are learning to take dictation, the fewer distractions you have, the better. Use a yellow legal pad.”
There was a yellow legal pad on the table. I picked it up and positioned my pen to begin taking dictation.
The voice began, “My name is Isham, I am here with Candor. We are not dead. We are communicating with you using a form of enhanced telepathy. Our job is to teach you how to get out of the way so your own thoughts don’t interfere with the dictation and distort the meaning. Once we are sure you can do this, we will introduce you to your first teacher.”
Isham told me that I was to meet with him for a half hour every morning between 8 and 8:30am. Isham taught me how to get my own thoughts out of the way so I did not add my own thoughts to the information that was coming through. He then passed me onto my first teacher whose name was Nyster -(pronounced like “mister”). Nyster had an English accent and was charming. He acted in the capacity of teacher, counselor and healer.
I soon loved Nyster as much as I could love anyone. He was my best friend, as well as my teacher. I studied with him for about two years… maybe longer. Nyster helped me emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. When he told me that he had done everything he could for me and he was going to pass me over to my new teacher, I was heartbroken. I felt I had lost my best friend.
I thought nothing could be worse than losing Nyster, but for a while it did get worse. The new teacher was nothing at all like Nyster. He was an arrogant and brash Irishman named Shamus, who was neither gentle NOR kind. He did not teach through gentleness and love. He taught using jokes, personal attacks and ridicule. He went against everything that I had learned about the spiritual path. He wasn’t a saint, he was a rogue, and he was proud of it!!!
It took a while, but I eventually got used to him and realized that he was preparing me for work in a world that behaved just like he did. He was trying to “toughen” me up, so I wouldn’t collapse in a “sea of tears” the first time I was attacked. Once I discovered that he wanted me to take my messages to a world of men and women who behaved just like he did, I understood what he was doing. I eventually came to love him as much as I loved Nyster. Unlike Nyster, Shamus was able to bring in “guest teachers” from “higher planes”. It was some of these “guest teachers” who “transmitted” the Obergon Chronicles to me.
Q: How long were you able to live this “double life,” and what happened to change things?
A: I lived the “double life” from the time I started receiving the messages until 1985 . . about six years. The reason things changed is I had a near death experience which changed my life forever.
In January of 1984, I came down with viral meningitis. I lay in bed for two days with a headache that was so bad I could not even move. My husband finally took me to the emergency room. The ER doctor examined me and called in a neurologist who did a spinal tap.
I can remember lying by myself in a dark room listening to the doctor and my husband, who were in the hall, talk about me. The doctor told my husband I had viral meningitis. At that time there was nothing that could be done. The doctor was very matter of fact. He told my husband, “Take her home. She’ll either die or get well.”
I was given pain pills, which allowed me to sleep. One night, during my long recovery period, I was awakened by a voice
“It is time. It is time!” The voice said. Thinking it was the television, I ignored it. Then with more emphasis, the voice said again, “IT IS TIME!”
I looked in the direction of my closet, because the voice seemed to be coming from there. Instead of seeing my closet doors, I saw a scientific laboratory filled with students and a teacher. Everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to join them, so the class could begin.
As I took my seat on a stool at one of the experiment tables, the instructor announced that today we were going to be studying the holographic nature of the universe. He explained that everything in the universe carries with it the memory of everything that it has ever been or done… from the beginning of time. Each atom carries the part of universal history that it has experienced. From the interaction with all other atoms, due to close proximity and transference, all atoms can become a hologram of the entire universe.
He said that the very atoms that make up a person’s body are chosen by the soul to help the soul successfully accomplish what it came to earth to do.
The instructor moved on from atoms and talked about how DNA is formed and how DNA carries the history of every ancestor and everything thing the ancestor had experienced up until the moment the DNA was passed on to the fetus.
The instructor quickly changed subjects again and said, “The cells of your body carry with them the memory of everything, good or bad, that YOU have lived through in this life. Past trauma is re-lived over and over again because the cells are still holding on to the “energetic emotional charge” that created the memory of the incident. The past trauma becomes a millstone which keeps you bound down and incapable of reaching your potential. As a result, you are incapable of fulfilling the life plan you chose to fulfill, prior to incarnating. The traumatic memories will trigger over and over, and will continue to do so until the cellular memory is cleared.
The instructor approached me, closed his eyes, and bowed his head. He inhaled a long slow deep breath, held it for a moment and then forcefully exhaled in my direction. I felt a bolt of energy enter my body. In the moment of exhalation, the instructor imparted to me the knowledge that I now “knew” the secret of activating cellular memories and clearing them out of the body.
I also received information that my “class on earth” was nearing its graduation, but before they could graduate and leave the material plane, they needed to get rid of their excess baggage, the traumatic and painful memories that are stored at a cellular level. After the teacher imparted my lessons, I knew the process was inside me and it would rise to the conscious mind as I cleared my own cellular memories and got rid of my own emotional baggage.
The transfer of information from the instructor to me took only a moment. The instructor went from student to student, passing on to each of them their new gift. Then the instructor said that he was going to show the class what each level of the clearing process felt like. He started with the cells of the body.
I felt a hand on my head. I assumed it was the instructor. I had always hated to have the top of my head touched. Whenever anyone touched me in this way, even the ministers who blessed me, I would panic and fight to get the hand off my head. Suddenly all the old feelings of panic and fear returned.
The terror of this event was still stored in the cellular memory of my body. The hand on my head was causing me to relive the original event. I felt claustrophobic. I felt panic. I was unable to breathe. I felt I was dying.
“Breathe through it.” I heard the instructor say. “You are fine, you are safe, you are protected. Breathe, and let it go.” I did as I was told. With each breath, I faced the fear. Finally I knew I had released the trauma, not just from the moment, but from the past as well.
For an instant I became a child again. But this time I was not “trapped” in the wood box. I was in the wood box because I was playing a game with my brother. As I released the painful memories, which were trapped in the physical cells of my body, I was also able to rewrite my personal history and undo the damage.
Opening my eyes, I saw the other students were breathing in the same long slow continuous manner. It appeared each one of them had just relived a traumatic experience, as I had done.
The instructor then said, “Now I am going to show you what it is like to remember something from your DNA.” Once more he closed his eyes and inhaled. As he exhaled, suddenly I was standing in the woods watching my father split a log with a wedge and a sledge hammer. I was holding a baby boy in my arms. My father was in his early twenties. Suddenly something flew up from the log and struck me in the lip. I began bleeding all over myself and the baby.
My father looked up and saw what had happened. He had tears in his eyes. “Honey, I am so sorry. I am so sorry.” He pulled a piece of steel from my upper lip and pressed a cloth to my lip to stop the bleeding. Part of the wedge had broken off, flew up, and struck me in my upper lip. Then my father put his arm around me, took the baby and walked me back to the cabin. I had never seen the cabin before, but it looked familiar, like a picture in the family album.
My father called me by my mother’s name. I realized that I was reliving one of my mother’s memories. Then I remembered the scar on my mother’s upper lip. I had just experienced a DNA memory of something that happened before I was born. The baby boy was my older brother. The cabin was one my parents had lived in when they were first married. The incident had happened 10 years before I was conceived. I later asked my mother how she got the scar on her lip. It had happened exactly as I had experienced it.
I could tell by the expressions on the faces of the other students that they had also relived a similar DNA memory.
The instructor then stood in front of the class and said, “Now I am going to show you how it feels to access the memories of the stars.” He instructed the class to place their index finger over their heart. He told them to press down with their fingernail until they could feel the pressure in one small spot.
“Draw all of your consciousness into this area,” he said, “Begin to breathe the long, slow connected breath. This is your heart chakra; it is the center of your body. It is the place where Father-God and Mother- Earth meet in love. Father-God is spirit, Mother-Earth is his opposite, she is material. He is without form, She is with form. Humans were created in the image of their Father and their Mother. A human carries the spirit of their Father and they wear the material body of their Mother. When a human comes into a perfect state of balance the energies of the Father and the Mother can meet in the heart chakra. Remember to breathe, breathe slowly and continuously.
“The Mother’s energy is red. She enters into the balanced physical body through the base chakra. The Father’s energy is white. He enters the body through the crown chakra. There are seven chakras. Mother and Father each travel through three chakras and meet in the center on the human body… the heart chakra. When this happens to a human, mystics and psychics see the heart chakra radiating a beautiful pink aura. Mother and Father are communing in love.
“Continue drawing all of your energy into the space beneath your fingernail. Choose one cell and go deep inside of it. Remember to breathe. Focus all your attention on that one cell. See yourself going into the cell. Breathe…. Now pick an atom and place your consciousness inside the atom.”
The instructor had barely finished his sentence when I felt a loud roaring sound. It sounded like a jet engine. Everything went black. I felt like I was traveling at the speed of light inside a tunnel. Suddenly I broke free of the darkness and found myself sailing through space. The stars were beautiful. I was joyously happy. I sailed through space as if I were a small plane.
I did flips and dives and barrel rolls. I swooped down on a planet and saw beautiful deer like creatures bounding over tall grass which resembled wheat. I sailed in closer for a better look. Suddenly I found myself in the body of one of the deer creatures. I felt its joy and happiness as it ran side by side with its mate, leaping and bounding over the tall grass like two dancers performing an intricate ballet. I felt the intelligence and the love of these creatures. They were not dumb animals, they had souls and feelings and thoughts very much like mine. They were on the planet developing their ability to think and reason. The male deer was a mathematician; the female was a philosopher who told me she was going to be a famous Greek playwright.
The stars called me again and I left the body of the deer people. I again sailed through the universe. I was headed for my home which I knew was near Sirius. I was racing home because I longed with all my heart to be back with my Father and my family. But the joy of being out of body and free to wander the universe was overwhelming. I was exhilarated with my newly found gift of flight. Instead of making a Beeline for home, I played in the universe. I circled and swooped down on several more planets.
After a while, the thought of going home once again filled me with joy. I stopped visiting other planets and started home, sailing through space doing flips and rolls and thoroughly enjoying the freedom that being out of body gave me. Suddenly a huge white wall appeared in front of me, blocking my path. I skidded to a stop to keep from crashing into the white wall. I sailed to the right, but the wall was still there. I sailed to the left, but I could not get past the wall. I stopped and stared at it.
The white wall wasn’t a wall. It was on off white roughly woven robe which was like a cross between burlap and light weight canvas. At the bottom of the robe were two very large feet wearing dark brown sandals. I suddenly realized that the being in the robe had his hand on my head keeping me from going anywhere. I heard his words inside my head,
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I’m going home,” I replied.
“You haven’t even started your work on earth. Turn around and look at your home world. You have the secret of preparing your fellow students for their next evolutionary leap. Without your presence, your piece of the puzzle will be lost and the entire evolutionary experiment could fail.”
I looked back at earth. I saw the planet ringed in a brown haze. The haze was the anger, hatred, rage, perversions, wars, and man’s inhumanity to his fellow man. I shuddered and said silently, “Thank God I am out of there. I won’t go back. I don’t want to go back.”
It appeared as if the being in the white robe had heard my thoughts.
“How is your husband going to feel when he wakes up in the morning and finds your dead body in bed next to him?”
Suddenly I could see into my bedroom. I saw my husband and in the next instant I was back in bed next to him. I hit with a jolt. I was wide-awake and filled with more energy than I had in months. I got out of bed and wrote down what had just happened.
I began to regain my strength, but I was still very weak. I still had to spend many hours in bed. I used the time to practice the breathing technique the teacher taught us. As I breathed I felt different sensations arising in different parts of my body. Sometimes the sensation was very slow to leave. In these cases I channeled energy into the area. I noted that when I did this, the sensation quickly went away.
Sometimes I went into the memory that was attached to the sensation. Other times I simply experienced the sensation without looking deeper to find out what was behind it. I soon discovered that the sensations were like little cans of garbage. I could toss out the can without going through the garbage and re-experiencing it, or I could choose to go through the garbage and feel all the pain once again. I quickly decided that it was easier and faster just to dump the can without going through the garbage.
By April, I had recovered. When I got out of bed, I knew something had changed. I went from my deathbed to a hectic schedule. I had never been interested in politics or city government. Now I found myself on an adjunct planning committee for the city of Monterey. In addition to this, I accepted a job as fund raiser for a non profit heritage organization. I became the assistant editor for the newsletter of the local woman’s Democratic club. Then I became the media coordinator for Senator Gary Hart’s 1984 presidential campaign. I had never been interested in politics before my near death experience.
At this same time, I began experimenting with the new clearing process I had learned in the near death experience. I was experimenting with music to balance the chakras, and breath to clear the stored memories. I invited a group of friends to join me and learn the method as a group. I also was doing private sessions on an experimental basis with a select group of volunteers.
By 1985, a friend and I were conducting Activated Cellular Memory (ACM) workshops, that is what I named the clearing process. In 1987 I began to travel throughout the United States giving private and group sessions. The feedback from people who attended the workshops was incredible. Almost 98% of my students were able to release themselves from their bodies and travel through the universe as I had done. Each of them brought back valuable lessons from their journeys. They were also able to let go of much of the emotional garbage that had been trapped in their cells. Several women who had been in therapy for years told me that one session with me cut straight to the root of their problems and they were able to let go of the trauma.
Q: It is clear that you continued on your spiritual path, did you also continue on the political path?
A: Yes, I did. For a while I worked within the normal political organizations. Then I met a woman named Barbara Honegger. Barbara had worked in the 1980 Reagan campaign. When Reagan was elected she moved to Washington and took a job in the West Wing of the White House. She was the woman who was doing the research for implementing Reagan’s alternative to the Equal Rights Amendment.
In 1983, Barbara realized that Ronald Reagan had no intention of ever implementing his ERA Alternative. She was extremely disillusioned because she genuinely believed in what she was doing. It took a great deal of courage for Barbara to resign her position in the Reagan White House and to publish her letter of resignation in the Washington Post. She was in the headlines for weeks. The National Organization of Women (NOW), picked her up and made her into a celebrity. The only thing that took her out of the headlines was the shoot down of Korean Airliner 007 by the Soviet Union.
Unknown to me, Barbara was from my area. When I saw a letter from her, to the editor of our local newspaper, I picked up the phone and called the only Honegger in the phone book. It turned out to be her mother’s house, but Barbara was there and answered the phone. I was producing a radio show at the time and asked her to be a guest.
We became friends immediately and worked on a number of projects together. In 1984, Barbara had been the women’s coordinator for the Jesse Jackson campaign. I had worked for Gary Hart. Both our candidates lost to Walter Mondale. Neither of us could support Mondale, so we batted around ideas of what we could do during this election year.
Barbara had evidence that the Reagan Campaign had stolen Jimmy Carter’s debate briefing books and had used them to get an advantage over Carter during the debates. She even had photographs of the Carter Debate Briefing books lying on a table in the garage where the Reagan campaign team was preparing for the debate. She spent a few weeks putting together this research and writing an article. In those days, there was no place to publish articles like this. I don’t know if it was ever published.
After she finished with this project, she and I discussed Reagan’s Armageddon beliefs. It was 1984, and we both believed that Ronald Reagan was thoroughly in the grip of Christian Armageddonists who believed that the Biblical prophecy of Armageddon had to be fulfilled during Reagan’s presidency.
The man Reagan appointed to be his Secretary of the Interior, James Watt, believed that it was fine to mine and log all of the earth, because our generation was going to be the last generation of people on earth. His famous quote “We don’t have to protect the environment, The Second Coming is at hand,” echoed the way many of the people who surrounded Reagan felt.
Barbara and I decided to put together a paper on Reagan’s Armageddon beliefs. We turned the paper into an 8-page flyer that could be folded, addressed and mailed. We then addressed and mailed them to every radio and television station and every newspaper and magazine in the world.
About that time, I suffered a relapse. I don’t know if I came down with meningitis again, or if I had never really recovered from the original illness. I ended up in bed for a few more months. It was during this time that I really practiced the lessons I had learned during my “Near Death Experience”. I also used that time to listen to tapes and do a little reading. Reading was hard, because I couldn’t sit up or bend my head. Most of the time, I just lay there and stared at the ceiling.
I was very angry with God and blamed Him for my illness. One day, after mentally screaming at God, I was very exhausted and felt that I could finally sleep. I don’t know if I actually went to sleep, or if I was awake when this happened. But I heard a voice. It said,
“Do you know what your problem is?” I didn’t know what the voice meant, so I didn’t answer. “Your problem is you think and act like a soldier, and a soldier never surrenders. You hate that Christian expression of, ‘surrender to God’. You won’t surrender to anyone, not even God.”
The voice continued, “Instead of surrendering, why not just give up the fight? Stop fighting God! God doesn’t fight back, therefore it isn’t a war, therefore you CAN’T surrender.”
“You have to have two groups, in battle fighting each other, before you can consider it a war. Two armies have to fight before one can surrender. In YOUR “battle” with God, the only one fighting is you. Stop fighting God. Give up the fight!”
“You spend so much time being angry at God for putting you in bed that you don’t even realize that He has given you a wonderful opportunity to be alone, in the solitude of your “cave”, so you can spend some time working on yourself.”
At this moment, I remembered my near death experience, and I knew that God had given me this “free time” so I could use it to work on all the garbage that was stored inside of me.
I spent about two and a half months in bed that time. The only reason I got out of bed was because a friend told me about an Archbishop in Santa Barbara named Warren Watters. I don’t know why, but I KNEW that this was the man who had to baptize me.
I made an appointment to go see him. When I met him, we made the arrangements and I was baptized the following weekend. I stayed in his home with Warren and his wife, Ellen. Warren was 93 and Ellen was in her 80’s. They were the most wonderful and loving people I had ever met. They both had a radiance surrounding them that everyone could see or feel.
Near the end of the weekend stay, Warren asked me if I wanted to be ordained in his Church, the Church of Antioch. I knew nothing about it, but I was certain that God would not have sent me there if I was not supposed to be ordained.
Warren and Ellen had a small chapel attached to their beautiful red-tiled adobe home. There were about four rows of pews with an altar at the front. It looked like any Christian church, just smaller.
During the ordination, Warren suddenly became very quiet. Ellen asked if something was wrong. The day was very hot and I think she was worried he was ill. He replied that Master Melchizedek had just joined us. I saw Ellen look up. Warren had his eyes closed. I looked up and saw the most incredible vision.
The ceiling had vanished. In its place was a multi-tiered cone that went up until it completely disappeared. Around each circular tier there were hundreds if not thousands of people watching me be ordained. Warren later said that this was the Ashram of Melchizedek and I had just been ordained into it also.
After the ceremony, I asked him about the other people who had been ordained into the Ashram of Melchizedek. He told me that this was the first time in his life that anything like this had happened to him. I asked him who Melchizedek was. He told me the few things he knew about Melchizedek, who was the original High Priest of Jerusalem. None of what he told me made any sense to me. It still doesn’t. I may have been ordained into the Ashram of Melchizedek, but until I understand what this means, I have chosen to do nothing. This was one of the major lessons my teacher, Shamus taught me, “When you don’t know what to do, do nothing.”
After I came home from Santa Barbara, I spent most of my time working on the Activated Cellular Memory process. I put together classes and flyers and began teaching it. All the while, I was also working with Barbara Honegger on her various quasi-political projects.
In 1986, a crisis developed in the Middle East. Ronald Reagan had just ordered the bombing of Libya and he was threatening to bomb Syria. The Biblical Armageddon scenario looked like it was about to play out. Barbara and I went into action again. We needed to rewrite, update and reprint the information we had gathered in 1984.
One of Barbara’s friends was the pianist, Byron Janus. He just happened to be visiting in our area at the time we were working on this. Barbara and I had been trying to figure out how we could get a copy of our work hand delivered to Pope John Paul II. Byron told us his wife was a friend of a woman who went to high school with Pope John Paul II. Byron also told us that he was a close friend of Nancy Reagan. We gave Byron our information. Within 48 hours of handing this information to Byron, Reagan stopped his threats to bomb Syria and the Armageddon scenario never raised its head again during the Reagan years. Did the Pope and Nancy Reagan avert Armageddon in 1986? I don’t know. Someone should ask them.
Q: I know from prior conversations with you that during this time you had some experiences that are even stranger than the ones you have just described. You said some radio personalities and other well-known people have told you to keep quiet on these experiences because they feel you will lose your credibility. Do you feel you can share these experiences now?
A. I have been cautioned about talking about certain things. I have often wondered if the people who cautioned me to stay silent on these things were really worried about my credibility, or if they were trying to keep the lid on things. All right, for the first time ever in print, here’s the story!
In 1986 I was taken to Mars by the Admiral who I later discovered was Gunther’s direct boss and his uncle. This trip to Mars was three years BEFORE I married Gunther and FOUR years before I “officially” met the Admiral.
This story is a hard one for me to tell. I am not sure how to begin. I still wonder if it actually happened, or if it was just a realistic dream. The experience was far too real to have been a dream. It is possible that I only traveled in my astral body. My psychic grandmother took me on out of body journeys when I was a child. The trip to Mars could have been a dream, or an out of body journey. But a very big part of me believes that it really happened.
In 1986 there were a series of events that happened within the span of a day, maybe two. This was right in the middle of the work Barbara and I were doing to get out the Armageddon information. The first event happened when my spirit guide, Shamus, told me that the Golden Armada was coming to earth tonight. He told me to go outside and look up in the sky.
A friend was with me. We went out. It was cold and damp. We stayed out for a very long time, but saw nothing. Finally I told Shamus that he had better give us a sign or we were going back inside. Before I even got the words out of my mouth, the biggest and bluest “falling star” I had ever seen, streaked across the sky. We had our sign, so we knew we had to stay out in the cold!
My friend went back inside and brought out blankets. We stayed outside looking up in the sky. Finally she pointed in a certain direction and told me to look past all the stars to what would be the edge of the universe. I followed her suggestion and sure enough, I saw the same thing she was seeing. What we saw was something that looked like giant fireworks. This occurred in 1986. I have now seen this phenomena in a few science fiction movies. They call it a star gate.
Shamus said leaders of the Galactic Federation were coming to the Earth to attend a meeting of all the world leaders, which was being held in the Grand Tetons. Shamus said representatives from all inhabited planets would be in attendance.
Just at that moment, we heard the doorbell ring and went back inside. It was another friend. We sat there talking about what we had just seen. Finally one of us pointed to the plush rug. There were marks forming on it that looked like footprints. We all looked at the rug, and sure enough, it looked like an invisible person was walking toward us.
At that time in my spiritual development, I knew no fear. I asked who it was and what he wanted. Suddenly I could see the person. He was dressed in a silver flight suit. He introduced himself as Commander Shubreadth and said that he was there to ask my permission for the C-Cubed unit to be installed.
I knew that a C-Cubed unit was for Command, Control and Communication. He said it was to guide the Golden Armada in their journeys to and from earth. I asked him why he wanted to put it in my house. He answered that I had divine protection around me and if it were in my house, it would be safe. I asked a few more questions, all of which he answered to my satisfaction, so I gave him permission to set the C-Cube Module up.
Suddenly, a group of similarly dressed beings began carrying all sorts of things into my condominium. Instead of building it in the condo, they built it in the stairwell. About halfway through their installation, the doorbell rang. Needless to say, it scared all of us out of our skin. It was about 1AM. We all wondered who would be ringing the doorbell at that time? I think we must have unconsciously feared it was “the men in black”.
It turned out to be one of my nieces. She said that she was driving by, saw our lights on and knew something was going on. One of the reasons we jumped when the doorbell rang was because it was the back door and not the front door. When I asked my niece why she came to the back door, she said that she did not feel comfortable going up the stairs inside the stair well. The back door did not have a stairwell. The stairwell was where the C-Cubed Module was being built.
When she got inside the condo, she looked over in the far corner, where the installation of the C-Cubed module was going on. No one had yet said anything to her about what had been happening. “What is going on over there?” she exclaimed. She could also see the men in silver uniforms carrying in the boxes from which they constructed the C-Cube Module.
After the installation was complete, commander Shubreadth came back and said that they were finished. He said that it was a self-running installation. He said that when it was no longer needed, it would fade away.
About two or three in the morning, my niece and friends left. I put on a white night gown and went to bed.
The next thing I knew, I was standing in a dry creek bed. The dirt was red, and somehow I knew I was in Arizona. It was night. Everything was illuminated by the moon. I looked around that saw ten or eleven other women. They were all in their nightclothes as I was. No one spoke. We walked around slowly, looking at each other and our surroundings.
Suddenly, without sound, a golden ball began to materialize. It was about fifteen to twenty feet high. A door opened, and a man with white hair and blue eyes walked down the steps. It is time to go he said as he motioned us to get on board.
I was one of the first inside. I was almost directly across from the door. There was a bench that ran along the edge of the round room. Each woman sat down in front of her own window. There were twelve windows and the door. The man sat on a seat in front of the door. He said that we were going for a short ride. He told us to look out the windows because the view was going to be beautiful. I followed his advice.
I don’t remember him telling us we were going to Mars, yet I knew that was where we were headed. I could see Mars in the distance. The red planet grew larger and larger, until it filled the entire window. I could see that all the women were now looking out the windows on my side of the Golden Globe.
Without sound or warning, the man with the white hair stood up and opened the door. We had come to rest on the red planet. Our trip took about half an hour or less. One by one, the women silently filed out the door of the Globe. Not one of us had spoken to the others.
Each woman was met by a man in a gray uniform with yellow piping and patches. I watched the other women as they were led to different areas. The place where we landed looked like a freeway underpass system. There were several large entryways which led down into the red planet. The Golden globe had landed on a flat piece of ground which seemed to set on top the underground passages. There was a fence or guardrail around the landing area. The section where we disembarked was the only place we could exit.
I was the last to leave the golden globe. As I stood at the doorway I saw two of the women who had been in the globe with me. They were walking with their arms around the men who had met them. It appeared as if they knew and loved the men.
There was no one there to meet me. I looked at the man with the white hair. He read my mind and sent back the answer. I am your guide. He walked away from the landing area and the underground passages. He headed toward the red rocks that were in front of us. I can remember thinking; “There is an atmosphere on Mars. Why haven’t our scientists told us about it?”
I heard the man answer me, “If they told you, there would be an overwhelming rush to colonize Mars. We don’t want that.”
As we walked closer to the red rocks, I could see that there were caves carved in the rocks. The man corrected my thinking. “They aren’t caves, and they aren’t rocks. These are living structures. On earth we would call them apartments, but these apartments are made from living crystals. The crystals create an energy field that keeps the people who live in these structures in perfect health. When the Martians lived here, there was no sickness, there was no death.”
I climbed the rocks and walked inside one of the structures. I could feel something touching me. It gave me a shiver. I heard the man tell me, “Don’t worry. It will not harm you. It is sensing your energy system. If you spent the night here, you would go home in perfect health.”
My mind was already thinking, “How can we bring these crystal beings to earth?”
The man silently answered, “We already have. We are trying to duplicate the process that the Martians used to make these structures.” I quickly discovered that not only could the man communicate with me telepathically, but he could put pictures in my mind. The man showed me the dome-like structures that they had created using the crystal beings in a mixture of concrete like substance.
The man said he had more to show me and started back down the hill. He stopped at a wall that came up to his waist. The wall had hidden a passageway that led down into an underground structure. The man went ahead of me. The light was filtered. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. When I got to the bottom of the stairs I saw a long hall with picture windows on each side.
When I first saw it, I thought that it must be some kind of indoor zoo. The windows appeared to hold different scenes. I don’t know why I thought it was a zoo, but that was the first thought that popped into my mind. I could almost hear the man laugh as I thought ‘zoo’.
He told me to take a look and tell him what I was seeing. As I approached each picture window I saw that there was no glass. I could look into them at scenes I couldn’t understand. I didn’t know what I was looking at. Some of the scenes appeared to be swirling clouds and fog. Other scenes were of meadows and grass. “Could it be a picture album left by the people who used to live here?” I asked.
The man didn’t laugh at my question. “That is a very good thought, but no. This was not what Mars looked like.”
The man read my mind and realized I had no idea what I was seeing. He said, “This is a space-time portal. When the Martians knew they were going to lose their atmosphere, they knew they had to find a new planet on which to live. Earth was their first choice. It was nearby and easily accessible with their spacecraft. But earth was still in the creation process thirteen million years ago.”
The man told me that the Martians did not have the technology to travel in spaceships outside of this solar system and none of the planets in this solar system were ready to support life. He said the Martian scientists turned their attention to creating space/time machines.
About half way down the long hall, the man stopped me and pointed to a window. This is the portal to earth.
I thought you said that earth was not habitable 13 million years ago.
It wasn’t, he replied. This portal leads to earth, approximately 50,000 years ago, earth time. From a Martian point of view, it is 13 million . . . minus 50, 000 . . . earth years in the future. Come with me and have a look.
The man stepped through the window or portal. He stood there waiting for me to join him. I looked in and tried to figure out what kind of room he was in. It was dark and glowed with a green light. I really couldn’t see anything but the man.
Once I stepped through the portal, it closed behind me. We were in some kind of underground cave. We stood on a rock platform that was surrounded on all sides by water. It was very dim; I could not see anything very well. From the water I heard a voice. It was irreverent and humorous, “Are the two of you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come with me?”
I looked down and saw a creature that looked like a dolphin with the head of a catfish. The man led me to the stairs and we walked down into the water. There were two dolphin-like creatures waiting for us. He grabbed the fin of one and gestured for me to do the same thing.
I heard the dolphin creature tell me that the Martians designed the entrance to earth to make sure no one could get through the portals unless they were invited and wanted. The dolphin-like creatures were the guardians of the portals. Without them, no one could ever find their way out of the portal and onto the earth.
The two dolphin creatures swam for a very long time. Finally they skidded to a stop up a golden brick ramp. The talking dolphin creature said, “This is where the two of you get off. We will see you on the other side.”
The man with the white hair was the first to climb to his feet. He offered me his hand and helped me up out of the water. I felt strangely refreshed and alive. Almost like there was something in the water that nurtured me and healed me.
As I was thinking the thought I heard the man reply, When earth was younger and non-polluted, ordinary water was healing water.
I walked by his side to the doors at the top of the ramp. He pushed the two doors open. The first thing I saw was beautiful columns and temples. The colors were vibrant turquoises and orange and yellow. The land was lush with trees and grass. I saw the two dolphin creatures swim out from under the temple.
There was a canal that surrounded the area. The water was crystal clear. There were many other types of fish swimming in the canal. When the people saw the dolphin creatures, they fell to their knees and seemed to pray before them.
I looked at the man, he answered, “The dolphins are sacred to these people. The dolphins take care of them. They don’t appear very often. The people haven’t noticed us yet. The dolphins are telling them about us. Wait a moment, you are going to be surprised.”
After a few moments, a young man came over to us. He kneeled before us. I tried to pull him up but the man with me stopped me. When the young man stood up, he said, in perfect English, “Welcome to Egypt. I am your guide.”
We followed the young boy down the steps of the temple. The man told me that the dolphins had read our thoughts and instantly taught the boy to speak our language.
The young boy led us through their city. There were no cars; none were needed because the area was not large enough for cars to be needed. There appeared to be thousands of people living there. Their skin was medium brown and their facial features were similar to the people of Italy. They were very beautiful.
We were taken to the edge of the city where the fields that grew the crops were. I could see fields of green with people working. There were also trees and bushes. Everything was so beautiful it looked like a park.
The young boy handed me an orange fruit that looked like an apricot. I looked at the man, “Eat it”, he said, “You will never in your life taste anything as sweet.”
The last thing I remember is the wonderful sweet taste of the fruit. The next thing I remember is floating through space. I was lying horizontally. I could faintly remember being told to keep my eyes closed. I fought to open them. Above me I saw a space ship. I was in some kind of beam that was moving me through the roof of my apartment and putting me back in my bed. I was dressed in a long white night gown, and I could feel the silk fabric flutter against my arms.
I fought to stay awake long enough to write myself enough notes so I would remember my trip
When I woke up the next morning, there was red dirt in my bed. I wondered where I could have gotten red dirt on my feet. Then I saw my notebook wide open on the bed stand. The first word I saw was MARS followed by Golden Globe. . .and other key words. By the time I had finished reading the code words, I had remembered the entire experience.
Four years later, I met the man with the white hair on Offutt Air Force Base. I have wanted to tell the story of my trip to Mars for a long time. Friends who know the story have advised to keep it to myself. They fear it will cause me to lose all credibility.
I don’t know if I went to Mars. I know there was red dirt in my bed when I woke up. Did I go to Mars or just to Arizona? I can’t give you an answer. What I do know is the man in the dream turned out to be my husband Gunther’s boss, a four star Admiral who was in Navy Intelligence, and at the time I met him in 1989, on Offutt Air Force Base, he was the Director of Covert Operations for the CIA.
If the Admiral did not take me to Mars, then someone went to a lot of trouble to make me think that he did. About a week after I met the Admiral on Offutt, he took me on another journey. He took me to meet the King of the World. The only two times I have gone on unusual journeys in my physical body, it has been with the Admiral. (The King of the World story is included in this anthology.)
Q: What did you do after you realized what had happened? Did you lecture about your trip? Did you make it part of your work? How did it affect you, and do you think it had any impact on what you were doing at the time?
A: I don’t think it had any impact on what I was doing. In fact, I can only remember telling one friend about it. For some reason, it was very upsetting to me, and I wanted to put it out of my mind. I continued doing workshops, seeing clients and when Barbara needed my help, I helped her.
Q: In 1988 your husband, John died. You moved to New York City and began teaching and giving workshops in the ACM method. You also were traveling to Washington DC to see clients and give workshops. You met Senator Claiborne Pell at this time, How did that happen?
A. A friend introduced us. She knew about his interest in Near Death Experience, and she knew that a Near Death Experience (NDE) changed my life dramatically.
While I was talking to the Senator, I told him about the Activated Cellular Memory process. He wanted to experience it, so I gave him a private ACM treatment. Senator Pell had just hosted a large conference on the Near Dear Experiences. There is a book written about the conference. It is called “Proceeding of the Symposium on Consciousness and Survival. An Interdisciplinary Inquiry into the Possibility of Life Beyond Biological Death” The book was published by the Noetics Institute in Sausalito.
Senator Pell was impressed with my experience and the depth of my information and abilities. Each time I was in Washington, I called him. We usually met for lunch or dinner. On one visit, he told me that his committee was funding a top-secret project that dealt with a number of the things the Soviets had pioneered in the psychic world. I was familiar with the psychic work the Soviets were doing. I was very interested in his project and we discussed it several times.
At this same time, in California, Barbara Honegger was working on exposing the main scandal of the Reagan/Bush years, The October Surprise. She was helping one of the men who had just been charged with lying to a judge. The man, Richard Brenneke, had told a judge that a career CIA operative named Donald Gregg, (who had just been nominated by President Bush to become the Ambassador to South Korea), was involved in the October Surprise.
All nominees for Ambassador have to be confirmed by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Senator Pell was the Chairman of that Committee. Because Barbara knew Senator Pell was a friend of mine, she asked me to hand deliver a packet of information regarding Donald Gregg’s involvement in the October Surprise.
I agreed to do this. On my next trip to Washington, I made an appointment and delivered the packet. The Senator said he would look it over and we would talk about it over dinner that evening.
We went to a Thai restaurant in Georgetown. As we walked in, Senator Pell said hello to many different people. One man, at the far end of the room, stood up, waved and said, “Hi, Senator.” In other words, it was obvious that everyone there knew who he was.
We sat down, looked at the menus and ordered. After the waitress left, Senator Pell, pulled out the packet I gave him, dropped it in the middle of the table and began to talk very loudly and sternly. Many people would say he was yelling at me. I have rarely been talked to like this by anyone, especially a United States Senator. He was angry that I had used our friendship to try to influence his vote on Donald Gregg. His voice was so loud that everyone in the restaurant stopped eating and was staring at us. I was not about to let him ruffle my feathers or upset me.
When he stopped yelling at me, I said, very politely, “Are you finished?” He nodded. In a firm voice I said, “Just because we are friends, you are saying that you do not want to know about crimes and treason being committed by high ranking government officials?”
I could see that the other people in the room were riveted on our conversation. I can’t remember how he responded to my question, because what he did next completely knocked me off center. In the same loud voice he had used to berate me, he said, “Do you remember that project I was telling you about? I want you to come to work for me and oversee it.”
I was stunned into silence. He lowered his voice and asked me if I would become his assistant in the Foreign Relations Committee. He had earlier told me that the project was being carried in the Foreign Relations Committee budget. Knowing we were still being watched by almost everyone in the restaurant, I told him I would think about it and give him an answer in a few days.
We finished dinner with no more unusual happenings. The Senator took me home. I talked with my hostess for an hour or two and then went to bed.
That evening, about 2am, the feel of someone brushing up against my neck awakened me. When I opened my eyes, I saw a man in a black cape. He was wearing a large black hat that flopped down over his face. I felt he was trying to suck blood from my neck. I was terrified and petrified. I could NOT move a muscle. I was frozen either in fear or by other means.
I knew that if I allowed this man to suck my blood that I would die. Instantly I knew what I had to do. I had been taught sacred words to ward off evil. I could not speak or move, but I could think. I began thinking the words as strongly as I could.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai SabeyothKadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
After the first syllable, of the word Kadoish was thought, the man in the cape quickly raised his arm to shield his face. It was as if I had hit him. With the second set of words, the man backed away from the bed. He was still looking at me, ready to strike again if he could.
By the time I had finished the third set of words, my voice came back. I repeated the words out loud.
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai SabeyothKadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
Kadoish, Kadoish, Kadoish, Adonai Sabeyoth
Each time I said them, I grew stronger. Each time I said them, the vampire grew weaker. The man, or astral body, that had touched me felt physical, I felt the touch of his hands on my neck and shoulders. But as my voice grew stronger and I was able to forcefully speak the sacred words, I saw him begin to dissipate. As he dissipated he retreated further and further from me, as if he felt being close to me would cause him harm. He finally backed up into my closet and vanished.
I stayed awake most of the night thinking about what had just happened. I knew Senator Pell had friends who were advanced enough in their psychic abilities to be able to manifest out of body and do things in their astral bodies. I believed that whoever had visited me was probably associated with the Senator in some way. The next day I called and read him the riot act. I have often wondered what the spies who tap all the phones in Washington must have thought when I accused him of visiting me in his astral body.
Of course he denied that it was him, but some of the things he said made me believe he knew about it, and had possibly ordered it. During my tirade, he asked again if I was going to take the job. I told him I would give him an answer once I got back from Virginia Beach.
My husband John’s ashes had been scattered on Virginia Beach. I wanted to say goodbye to him before I closed that chapter of my life and moved on. I rented a red Mustang convertible and drove from Washington DC to Virginia Beach. It was a beautiful sunny day. I put the top down and let my hair blow in the wind. It was a beautiful day, and I wanted to put the vampire completely out of my mind.
When I got to Virginia Beach, I chose to stay at the Cavalier hotel, across the street from the beach. I put on my two piece suit, grabbed my towels and walked down to sunbathe. I had not been there long when I saw two men in trench coats on a catwalk to the left of me. It was hot and sunny, why were these men wearing overcoats? When I looked at them again, they were taking pictures of me with a camera that had a long lens. I remembered that Senator Pell told me I had to undergo a background check. I figured these men were part of that background check.
I decided that I looked great in my two-piece and wondered if I could ask them for copies. I lay back down and relaxed as the sun warmed and relaxed me. I was thinking about the “vampire” attack the night before, wondering if I had dreamed the whole thing, or if it had really happened.
Suddenly I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach. It was so intense it felt like someone had hit me with a hot knife. It took a while for me to recover from the pain. When I did, I noticed that I had started bleeding. I figured it was my menstrual cycle and chalked up the pain to stress. I wrapped the towel around me and used it to mop up the blood as it flowed down my leg. I hurriedly ran back to the Cavalier Hotel, trying to keep from leaving a trail of blood behind me.
Once I got back to my room, I realized that the amount of blood I was losing was definitely NOT normal. I waited for a few hours to see if the bleeding would subside. It didn’t. I was afraid to go to a hospital. I had been working with Barbara on the October Surprise project and I was afraid I might be killed if I went to a hospital. I wondered what to do.
I realized that I needed a friend in Virginia Beach to help me, and yet I didn’t know a soul. My late husband had grown up in Virginia Beach. He had dated Edgar Cayce’s granddaughter. I decided to call the Cayce Institute and tell them the whole story, including the reason I couldn’t go to a regular hospital. It turned out that the grandson of Edgar Cayce’s doctor had just moved back to town. He was a friend of the woman I was talking to. She arranged an appointment with him.
He was able to stop the bleeding long enough for me to catch a plane and fly back to California where I could be treated by my family doctor. By the time I got off the plane, I was bleeding heavily again. The pain was unbearable. My mother drove me directly to my family doctor. He examined me and said that he felt I was suffering from an ailment called metropathia hemorrhagica. It is excessive uterine bleeding brought on by stress or grief. It mimics childbirth. The uterus goes into contractions. Because there is no baby to push out, the uterus pushes itself out.
I had lost a great deal of blood. He advised me to get a blood transfusion. I declined the transfusion due to the fact that our blood supply was not pure in those days. He said I would have to spend about six weeks in bed.
During my illness, Senator Pell called almost daily. He told me he was planning a trip to Pakistan and he wanted to take me with him as his assistant. I told him that I was too weak to go.
Q: What kept you from accepting the job with Senator Pell? Was it the so-called “vampire” attack?
A.: No. At that time, I didn’t associate the vampire attack with the loss of blood that happened the next day. I didn’t even associate the men on the cat walk with the loss of blood. I was planning on accepting his job offer just as soon as I was well enough.
Q: You just said, you didn’t associate the loss of blood with the men on the cat walk. What did you mean by that?
A: At the time I thought they were taking pictures for my background check. But since that time I have discovered that there are “beam weapons” that look like a camera with a long lens. Men who work for intelligence agencies believe I was hit with some kind of microwave beam.
Q: So what was it that kept you from taking the job?
A. I met Gunther Russbacher, fell in love and married him. After six weeks of bed rest, I was feeling almost back to normal. I was still very weak and could only stay out of bed for about six hours at a time. My mother asked if I felt well enough to drive her and my niece to Tacoma, Washington. I said if we could stop whenever I got tired, I could do it.
As we were entering Medford, Oregon, I suddenly become so weak that I believed I was passing out. I knew I had to pull off the road and find a motel. I took the first exit. Only one motel had vacancies. There was no place else to go, and since I was so weak I was about to pass out. We stayed at that motel.
We checked in about 4pm. I lay down and took a nap. At six, I woke up. My mother and I wanted to go to dinner. My niece didn’t want to go, so I ordered room service for her. While we were waiting for it, I turned on the television. There had just been a horrific automobile accident a few miles north of Medford. Many people were killed in the fiery crash.
My niece’s dinner came and my mother and I walked down to the restaurant, to have dinner. The restaurant was roped off. It looked closed. As we started to walk away, a woman came running after us. “Do you want to eat dinner?” she asked. I said yes, and she showed us into an empty dining room. We ordered and as we were waiting for our dinner to come, a tall, thin man approached the entrance. He stood at the entrance for a while, looking over the dining room as if he was looking for someone. The room was empty except for my mother and me. When he saw us, he came in and sat down one table away from us, in the non-smoking section.
As he stood, at the entrance, I said to my mother, “I know that man. He’s a navy officer. I know him from the Navy School.”
I thought about the first time I had ever saw him. It was at an afternoon cocktail party for visiting dignitaries. He was dressed in a dark suit, standing at parade rest, on the perimeter of the room. I said to a friend, “He looks just like Sean Connery. Do you know who he is?” My girl friend was the wife of one of the other Dean’s. We walked over to talk to him. He fidgeted and squirmed and barely answered any of our questions. A few moments later, our husbands came over and led us away. I later found out that he was there as bodyguard for one of the dignitaries
After he seated himself in the restaurant, the first thing he did was light a cigarette. I quickly reminded him he was in the non-smoking section. Instead of getting up and walking away, he put out his cigarette. By that time, the waitress had brought him a glass of California house wine. He tasted it and complained bitterly to me and to the waitress.
I sarcastically said, “It’s obvious you don’t know anything about wine”
He puffed himself up and declared, “My family has been in the wine business for six hundred years. I know EVERYTHING about wine.”
I replied in a condescending voice, “It’s obvious they weren’t making wine in California or you would know better that to order HOUSE wine!”
He was silent for a moment. It looked like he was thinking about wringing my neck. He then turned to my mother and said, “Is she always like this?”
My mother nodded her head and said, “Yes”
Then he looked at me again. “Don’t I know you?”
“Yes” I answered, copying the shy way in which my mother had answered.
Then, with much agitation he started shaking his finger at me saying, “You. . . you’re . . . you’re that DEAN’S wife. What’s his name . . . Dyer. You’re Dean Dyer’s wife!”
I shook my head yes. I knew he couldn’t have forgotten me. I first met him in the mid 70’s. Each time he came to the Navy School after that, I loved to tease him. He was so solemn and all business. I loved saying things I knew would get a reaction from him, such as, “I don’t see why the Navy won’t let women fly planes or be on submarines.” I could literally see steam coming out of him as he stifled his response so he wouldn’t offend the Dean’s wife.
There were many of those kind of moments, but the moment I remember him best was in the early 80’s. The Naval Postgraduate School was getting a new Superintendent. The new man was Commodore Robert Shoemaker. Commodore Shoemaker had been a POW in Viet Nam. He was one of the men who had been held the longest by the North Viet Namese. The post at the Navy School was his first command position since being released from the Hanoi Hilton.
He installation was one of the most formal ones that I had attended. It was held on the lawn in front of the main building of the Navy School. The Navy School had been the Old Del Monte Hotel, where kings and queens, movie stars and famous people from all over the world used to vacation. The architecture is a Spanish four story white building with a red tile roof.
The installation was being held on the outside bandstand. Around the perimeter there was a sea of naval officers in their dress blue uniforms. Each had a sword at his side. There were more officers than normal at this installation. Many former POWs had come to pay their respects to Commodore Shoemaker. I found out later that Gunther was at the installation because he had been a POW in the undeclared war in Laos.
After the ceremony was over, my husband, John had to get his briefcase from his office. We walked into the main building and up the stairs to the mezzanine where the Deans’ and Superintendent’s offices were. While my husband went into his office to get his briefcase and make a few phone calls, I went into the ladies room. After fixing my hair and putting on more lipstick, I started to step out the door into the long hall that led to my husband’s office.
As I opened the door I saw two Navy officers. They were in their dress blues and having a sword fight. One of them was a much better sword fighter than the other one. He quickly knocked the sword out of his opponent’s hand. Another officer came running up with two glasses of cognac. He gave them to the swordsmen. The winner raised his glass, as if he meant to toast the loser, but instead he turned to me.
I was still frozen in the doorway. He came over, put one hand on the wall near the door, and raised his glass. He was so close to me I could see the hairline scar above his lip. I was uncomfortable, almost frightened. He was so forward. I was not used to this kind of treatment from Navy officers.
At that moment, my husband, John came out the door of his office. He saw what was going on and said to the man, “That’s my wife sailor, touch her and you’re a dead man.” John then grabbed me by the arm and pushed me down the hall ahead of him, As we quickly walked away, I asked John who the man was. “He’s a spook from DC. Don’t have anything to do with him.” John had never said that about anyone before. Needless to say, it made me even more curious as to who this Naval officer really was.
Now, here he was, in Medford. Oregon, sitting next to me in a restaurant. He admitted that he never knew my first name and I admitted I never knew his last name. He introduced himself to me as “Gunther Russbacher”.
“Gunther?” I said, “I remember you as “Bob”. He looked uncomfortable for a moment and replied.
“My mother was Austrian. When we came to this country after the war she would introduce me as her “bobby”. She couldn’t say “baby”. The Americans thought my name was “Bobby”, and it stuck. As I got older I became “Bob”. It sounded like a reasonable explanation. I didn’t question it at the time. I later found out that Bob was the nickname of his Navy Intelligence alias, Captain Robert Andrew Walker.
As we talked, I realized that the spark of joy I always felt when I saw him was still there. There was fascinating chemistry between us, that had never been explored. After we finished dinner, he asked if we would join him for a nightcap. My mother said she needed to get back to the room to be with her granddaughter. I agreed to meet him in the cocktail lounge after I walked my mother back to her room.
I returned to the bar and stood in front, about to open the door. There was a small window next to the door. Through the window I saw Gunther. I heard his voice as he laughed and joked with the men who were with him. Then, out of no where, I was stopped in my tracks. I heard a voice, as clearly as I could hear the voices in the bar. It said, “If you go through that door, your life will change forever. Are you strong enough?”
I thought about everything I had just been through. Losing a husband, moving from a small town to New York City, being attacked by a vampire and almost bleeding to death. I figured if I could go through all of this and survive, I could go through anything. I pulled open the door and entered.
Gunther saw me and motioned me to a table, away from the men in the corner. A waitress came to take our orders. She was awfully curious about who I was and why I was there. I answered all of her questions and she left. She returned with my beer and his cognac. It took me a year to figure out that she was not a waitress. Her name was Marilyn. She was an Air Force Colonel and part of Gunther’s team.
After she left, Gunther lifted his glass and said, “Once a Templar . . .” I quickly raised my glass, smashed it into his, in the traditional Templar toast, and finished the toast for him “. . . always a Templar!”
He looked startled, “How did you know that?”
“I am a student of esoteric history and the Templars are my main interest. I have researched them for years. I have even lectured on the Templars at the United Nations.” I boasted.
He looked at me and said, “You may think you know about the Templars, but no one knows the truth about the Templars. No one.”
I was just about to argue with him, when suddenly, he began to physically change. This was long before the term “shape shifter” came into use. I could not believe what was happening to him. There in front of me, a slim, balding man with dark brown hair began to bulk up with muscles. His brown eyes became blue, his dark, thinning hair became blonde, thick and wavy. I could not believe what I was seeing.
He looked at me with a look that seemed to be a million light years away. He lowered his voice and whispered, “I am Atalon, and you are my other half. I have searched the combined universes for millions of years. Now that I have found you, NO ONE will EVER be able to separate us.”
I was floored. There could have been no way he could have known about The Obergon Chronicles and Atalon. At that time, only a handful of people had read the story.
He quickly came back to normal and asked, “What the hell happened?” I didn’t know how to answer him. I was so upset and knocked off center by what had just happened, that I decided to change the subject and ignore what had just happened. Gunther had just become Atalon, the soul that was created to join with my soul. Atalon was the soul who was my other half. I had been searching for him for years. Now that I found a man who said he was Atalon, I was so overwhelmed that I quickly changed the subject, and tried to pretend that the “Atalon” part of him had never appeared.
I searched for something to ask him in order to change the subject. When we were in the restaurant, Gunther said he was an assistant U.S. Attorney out of Denver. My friend Richard Brenneke, who was part of the October Surprise, had just been charged with perjury, by the U.S. attorney in Denver. I wanted to ask Gunther some questions about the case. What I did not know was I was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire… or line of fire!
I said, “If you’re a U.S. attorney out of Denver, you must know Richard Brenneke.”
I was not prepared for his response. The strong and confident man, who sat across from me, collapsed into a shaking puddle of tears. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. One moment he ‘shape shifts’ into a handsome young man who says he is my other half, and now he crumbles into a fetal position and cries. I could hardly believe this was the same Naval officer who always seemed to “in control” at the Naval Postgraduate School.
Gunther tried to gain control himself by grabbing the edge of the small cocktail table. He grabbed it so hard he made the table shake just as he was shaking. Tears ‘spurted’ from his eyes as he tried to speak. He said haltingly, through the tears, “I know Richard. I love Richard. They’re framing Richard.”
I could not believe it. The emotion in his voice told me that not only did he KNOW Richard, but he cared about Richard, like a friend or brother. All I could say, was, “You really DO know Richard,”
“Richard’s my cousin. We were raised together in Winnemucca.” I knew Richard was from Winnemucca, so I figured Gunther was telling me the truth. How could anyone fake this kind of emotion?
“Richard’s being sacrificed.” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Lower your voice.” Gunther cautioned me. “Those assholes in the corner are FBI.”
Gunther and I spent the rest of the night talking. About 5am he said,
“Let’s get married.” I could hardly believe I said yes. I didn’t even know him. Yes, we had friends in common, and yes, we were both used to the navy life. But he was a stranger to me. I couldn’t believe that I had agreed to marry a stranger. But even as I thought this, the thought vanished. I remembered the way he ‘shape shifted’ into Atalon, and I realized that I had finally found my other half. What did it matter if I didn’t know him. We were brother and sister, the children of the Great Lord Odon. Here before me, in a hotel in Oregon, was the soul mate I had dreamed about my whole life. After finally finding him, was there any doubt we would marry?
Several days later, we were in Tacoma Washington. He said he had called his boss earlier and requested permission to marry me. He said the answer would be coming, via the phone, any minute. The telephone rang. It was a friend of his, from the CIA, who had done the background check on me. The friend told Gunther there was no way we would be cleared to marry.
He friend read off the list of reasons. After Gunther was told that my best friend was Barbara Honegger, he looked at me and said, “You’re Barbara Honegger’s best friend?”
I nodded yes and watched him slap himself in the forehead.
He turned back to the phone. He listened for a few more minutes, then turned to me again.
“Did you try to rob a jewelry store in New York City?”
“Of course I didn’t,” I protested.
“Well the FBI has that in your record.”
“What jewelry store?” I asked
“The one in the Plaza Hotel,” he replied.
I had only been to the Plaza once. I knew the day that I had been there. A girl friend had taken me there to see the necklace she was going to talk her boyfriend into buying for her. I later found out that her boyfriend was an old friend of Gunther’s. Their fathers had known each other in Germany during the war.
“How did the FBI know that I was there at that time?” I asked.
He repeated the question over the telephone. A few minutes later Gunther turned to me and asked, “Were you just about to go to work for Senator Pell?” I shook my head yes. “He was having you checked out for a security clearance.”
“What do you mean?” I wanted to know.
“You were being followed by the guys who do background checks.” Gunther replied. “You passed your background clearance for working for a Senator, but NOT for being my wife. Your friendship with Barbara Honegger is going to cause us problems.”
“What do you mean, my friendship with Barbara is going to cause us problems?” I asked him.
Gunther replied, “They told me we have to wait two years before they will even give us an answer. This is the policy after someone like me gets divorced and wants to marry again.” I didn’t think about it at the time, but he never answered my question about Barbara.
He quickly added, “Or we can get married in the morning and face the consequences later.”
The next morning we flew to Reno in his private Learjet and were married. We returned to the plane and headed back to Washington.
The pilots had bought us a bottle of wine. Gunther opened it and poured us each a glass. We were sitting together on the back seat of the Learjet buzzing with happiness and excitement. The pilot’s voice interrupted us. “Chief,” I heard him say, “Our air space has been violated, we’ve been ordered to arm.” I couldn’t have heard him right. Did he say “ordered to arm?”
The telephone in the back of the plane was not working. Gunther got up and went forward to talk to the pilot. I followed Gunther to the cabin and listened as the pilot told him our air space had been invaded by a small prop job. They had been ordered to arm. Gunther looked out the windows.
The Learjet had fuel tanks on the wings. Gunther said earlier that they were there so the jet could make it to Europe without refueling. There was no reason for me to think any differently . . . until now.
I saw the front of the fuel tank slowly open. I saw missiles moving out of the pod. A thousand questions filled my mind. What kind of a plane was I flying in? Who had I just married?
The next few seconds moved in slow motion. The copilot said to the pilot, “Nose cannon fully armed. . .missiles locked in position.” It was true I had seen missiles.
The pilot told Gunther that a small plane had entered our airspace. He said that Nellis had scrambled a fighter escort to force the plane down and take us home to Boeing field. Gunther and I returned to the rear of the plane. Gunther asked me if I had heard what had been said. I nodded. He looked distressed. He should have been. We hadn’t even been married an hour, and already he was beginning to face the problems that his boss, “the Admiral” had known would arise.
I sat in silence for a moment, trying to figure out what was more important; wondering about what kind of plane was out there and if it was going to shoot us down, or wondering what kind of plane I was in and who these people were?
Gunther was sitting by my side looking troubled. It was as if he had suddenly realized what he had done and the danger he had put me in.
“What kind of a plane is this?” I whispered weakly. So many thoughts were running through my head. I couldn’t believe that a Navy Captain would have a plane like this . . . even a Navy Captain that was attached to a U.S. Attorney’s office wouldn’t have a plane like this!
Who was this man? I had heard stories about our government being involved in drug trafficking. Had I just married a government drug trafficker? Drug dealers had planes like this. International crime figures had planes like this. I remembered seeing the international bank accounts in his briefcase. I remembered how he talked about his “family”. What kind of “family” had I married into?
I was preparing to hear the worst. I figured I had married the “Mob”. Gunther gently took my hands and said, “Honey, this is the Blackbird.” he was talking about the Learjet. “It was William Casey’s private jet. After he died I got it.”
Barbara Honegger had just read me an article about William Casey, the former Director of the CIA. Casey died just as he was about to tell the whole story to the Iran/Contra committee. I had read other stories about Casey’s clandestine trips to Central America in a Learjet. Was this that Learjet?
Gunther continued, “Up until 1986 I was the number three man in the CIA.”
I had prepared myself for the worst . . .Colombian drug dealers. . .Sicilian mob family. . . but nothing could have prepared me for this . . . this WAS the worst. I had married the number three man in the CIA!
“No,” I said as if trying to make him take it back. My mind was reeling with everything I had seen and heard. “I don’t understand. You can’t be CIA. You’re in the Navy.”
“I am a deep black cover operative. I have been for almost twenty-eight years.”
“You mean you’re not a Naval officer?” My voice was trembling. I was angry and upset. I hated the CIA, but if he was really a Navy officer, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought!
He laughed, “Don’t worry, you married a Naval officer. That’s my cover. I received a Congressional Commission in 1968 as a Naval officer. Over the years my rank is advanced, on a regular basis, just as though I was in the Navy. That’s the way it works with all of us. ”
I wasn’t satisfied with his answer, “Are you CIA or are you a Naval officer?”
“I am both . . . or I was both.” This answer gave me even less comfort. “Now I don’t know what I am.” He continued, “I fell out of favor in 1986 and I still haven’t landed.”
“What happened in 1986?” I questioned.
“One of my planes crashed in Central America.”
Could he possibly be talking about the plane crash that started the whole Iran/Contra investigations?
“You don’t mean Eugene Hasenfus’s plane, do you?” I was familiar with the crash. It was October 5, 1986. Anyone who was familiar with the beginnings of the Iran/Contra mess knew about Eugene Hasenfus and the Southern Air Transport cargo plane that went down in Nicaragua. It was the papers found on board his plane that started the investigation into the illegal arming of the Contras.
He nodded his head. “It was one of my planes.” I used to run a stock brokerage company called National Brokerage Companies. It was set up to launder black budget CIA funds so they could be used for covert operations. I bought the plane with NBC money.”
I took a deep breath and tried to absorb everything that he was saying. Too much was coming too fast. I didn’t have the necessary information base for me to understand it all. Maybe Barbara could have made sense of what he was telling me. But the details and the covert intrigue were incomprehensible to me. It was almost as if he were speaking another language.
I heard the pilot speak, “Mrs. Russbacher,” he said. It was the first time anyone had called me Mrs. Russbacher. “Look out the windows below the wings. You will see our fighter escort.”
I looked out the window, and sure enough, two military jets were off our wings. The pilot spoke again. “They’re here to escort us home. We cant’ let anything happen to the Chief.” The pilot said this as he walked to the back of the plane. Gunther offered him a glass of wine.
The pilot continued, “Did he tell you that he’s the best pilot in the Navy? He’s the real “top gun”.”
Gunther hadn’t told me anything about flying except that he had lost a plane in Viet Nam. Gunther and the pilot talked and laughed about a trip they had just made to Oklahoma. Then they started talking about a house in Baja California where they spent time relaxing. It was clear they had known each other for years. As I listened to them talk over old times and old friends, some of whom I knew, like Richard Breneke and Harry Rupp, the reality of what was happening began to sink in.
The Naval officer I had just married was a deep black covert CIA operative. I had married a CIA agent! I couldn’t believe it. I had married one of the very men I had vowed to throw in jail. I couldn’t believe it. Now I was slapping myself on the forehead in disbelief!
What I really couldn’t believe was I loved him, in spite of the fact he was CIA. For years I had thought about nothing but breaking up the CIA and stopping their illegal drug and arms running. But now, as I stared into his eyes, love ruled the day, and nothing else mattered! I remembered how he turned into Atalon, and I knew that it didn’t matter what or who he was. He was my other half, and for better or for worse, now that we had found each other, we would be together for all eternity.
Two days later, the FBI arrested him at a family dinner – in front of my entire family. They told me that he wasn’t a Naval officer, he wasn’t CIA, he was a low-level conman who had been marrying and defrauding wealthy widows. I objected and told them they were mistaken. I described the Learjet, and the missiles. I told them about the fighter escort from Nellis. I told them to call the pilot, he would tell them who Gunther was.
The FBI placed the call for me, and handed me the phone. I told the pilot what had just happened. I asked him to tell the FBI who Gunther was. What he said almost knocked my feet from under me. “I’m sorry Mrs. Russbacher,” the pilot said, “but I don’t know your husband. I just met him the day before yesterday.”
I couldn’t believe what he just said. I remembered the stories he and Gunther told about their trip to Oklahoma and Mexico. I remembered the way they punched each other and played like brothers or best friends. I remember the pilot telling me he knew Richard Brenneke from Saudi Arabia. Now the pilot, who told me, less than two days earlier, “We can’t let anything happen to the Chief,” told the FBI he didn’t know Gunther.
That evening began an eight-year nightmare that was filled with a horror and terror. In September of 1989 I began doing battle with the largest and most evil empire in the world, the United States Intelligence community. I walked through the valley of the shadow of death and I knew fear, but I also knew God would not have placed me so strategically if there had not been a very good reason.
At that time it never occurred to me that my husband and I were going to be used to bring down a president and expose the worst pattern of related scandals in the history of the United States. Some Presidents leave office through losing an election, some resign, others are assassinated. George Bush was forced to lose the election. As Gunther was led away in handcuffs, I did not know that Gunther and I would be used to keep George Bush from winning the 1992 election.
I have always heard that God uses people in mysterious ways, but it was not God who was using us. It was my husband’s boss. It was the same high ranking Admiral who had caused my late husband John to walk on egg shells whenever he visited the Naval Postgraduate School. It was the same high-ranking Admiral who had taken me to Mars in 1986.
During the first year of my marriage to Gunther, the Admiral manipulated events and watched our reactions. He studied us until he was certain of our love for each other and of my strength. He played with our emotions and watched our pain as if we were laboratory animals. And then when he decided that we were strong enough to endure more, he proceeded with the rest of his plan and began using us to tell the story he wanted exposed . . . The October Surprise, and George Bush’s role in it.
This Admiral could have stepped in at anytime and put an end to our suffering. But he didn’t. He watched us, he listened to our conversations, he read our mail. He needed to be sure that we would fight to stay together no matter what they threw at us. He needed to know that I believed Gunther WAS Atalon . . . my other half. He needed to be sure that if we were backed into a corner, I would be strong enough to hold up my end as we fought our way out, even if it meant taking on the President of the United States.
This Admiral had a plan for us. A plan that I couldn’t even begin to understand, because in the beginning, I did not know the man I had just married was involved in the October Surprise. I didn’t know that my husband was the one man who could connect all the scandals and bring down the Bush administration.
Almost eleven months from the day we married, Gunther was released from the county jail in Missouri where he had been held. We paid a price for his release. He pled guilty to four counts of fraud and was placed on five years probation. If he violated his probation during those five years, he would go to state prison for twenty-eight years. The price was high, but we had been apart for eleven months. Gunther had a heart attack while in custody. I was afraid he might die before we had a chance to live together.
At the time, I didn’t know Gunther was released because he was needed to fly a top-secret mission. I didn’t know there were people behind the scenes who were working just as hard as I was to get him out. I thought it was my actions that were responsible for the prosecutor’s change of heart.
Once Gunther was out, he told me that he had to report to Offutt Air Force Base in Omaha. He said there was a meeting going on and he had to be there. At Offutt I met his boss, the Admiral, the man who had pulled our strings. Had I known what the Admiral had in mind for us, I might have chosen to leave Gunther in Offutt and go into hiding.
Gunther and I lived through four years of hour by hour terror. We were ‘slimed’ by the media; Gunther was poisoned and beaten. He was set up and put in the ‘hole’. I had people shooting at me, ramming my car and trying to push me off cliffs and overpasses. At one point I was sent out of the country and put in protective custody in Austria.
After four years as the most visible political prisoners of the Bush Administration, Gunther’s 21-year sentence was vacated, and the Missouri State appeals court ordered the state to release him. However, the order was not carried out. Gunther was transferred back to the St. Charles County jail and held illegally while the prosecutors decided what to do.
Gunther had been used to expose the treason committed by the CIA and George Bush. While in prison Gunther had been cruelly punished. Numerous attempts were made to kill him. To save his life, I organized a letter writing campaign that involved all 50 states and many foreign countries. I wrote articles and went on radio and television describing the beatings and punishments he had been subjected to. My letters brought help from all sides, conservative, liberal and middle of the road.
As Gunther waited to be released from the county jail, his tormentors were planning their final attack. One day, without warning, Gunther was taken from his cell and forced to undergo open-heart surgery. His 21-year sentence had been vacated. He should have been free! Instead, he was told to take his chances with the doctors. He had no choice. It was the surgery or a prison knife. His heart condition had been worsened by the many years of incarceration, but he didn’t need a quintuple heart bypass. It was done to kill him or disable him.
The first I heard about this came in a fax from Gunther’s attorney. The jailers would give me no additional information. Neither would the hospital. For five days I lived a nightmare not knowing if my husband was dead or alive. At the time, I had pneumonia and not enough money to see a doctor, let alone fly back to Missouri to try to help.
Five days later, the phone rang. It was Gunther. His voice was weak. He told me the doctors had left him for dead after the surgery. He said no doctor checked on him for four days.
On the fifth day he was taken back to the jail and thrown into a cell that was covered with urine and feces. The stench of human excrement and waste caused him to gag. When he gagged, he broke the stitches in his chest. He asked to be moved. It was denied. He asked that the cell be hosed down. It was denied. The jailers brought him a bucket and rags. They stood outside his cell and laughed as he struggled to clean the cell himself. This act of unspeakable human cruelty was what galvanized the informed American public.
Hundreds of thousands of letters began pouring into Missouri and to the White House. Help came from every direction. Amnesty International assigned their London office to investigate the charges. The ACLU sent two attorneys. The conservative CAUSE Foundation stepped forward. Newspapers and magazines and radio talk shows spread the word and Americans came forward with letters faxes and phone calls. Veterans threatened to march on Missouri and worse!
Seeing they had a tiger by the tail, the Missouri officials cut a plea bargain with him. They allowed him to plead guilty to the charge of defrauding TWA, out of the price of a one way ticket, from Pittsburgh to St. Louis. If he didn’t, he was told all the charges that had been vacated would be re-filed and he would spend forever in the same jail that had just tried to kill him. Gunther pled guilty to defrauding TWA out of a ticket. Four years in jail, and the destruction of his health, and the only thing they could get him on was the price of a $50.00 airline ticket.
Gunther is the only person to ever claim that George Bush was flown back from the Paris October Surprise meeting in an SR71. Gunther became known as “The October Surprise Pilot”. The October Surprise is the hub of the wheel that connects all the scandals of the Reagan-Bush years. George Bush knew that if it were investigated in depth, all his illegal deals would be exposed. He had more than a political career at risk; he had his family empire and fortunes at risk. If he had been exposed, not only would he have been indicted, but most of his family and friends would have gone with him.
While Gunther was in prison, he wrote essays on the Federal Reserve Banking system and on the non profit foundations that were created with Federal Reserve money. The essays showed that the men, who own the Federal Reserve, use non-profit think tanks, like the Ford and Carnegie Foundations, to influence every aspect of life in the United States.
Gunther knew that all presidents since 1913 were owned and controlled by the International bankers who own the Federal Reserve Bank. The same money and people, who were involved in the overthrow of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, went on to overthrow the government of the United States of America. This banking cartel grabbed control of the money system of the United States in a midnight session of Congress on December 23, 1913. Gunther taught me that the Federal Reserve is neither federal, nor does it have a reserve. He used to laugh and say, “Federal Express is more Federal that the Federal Reserve. At least it was started with CIA money!”
Bush’s family had been deeply involved in this treasonous takeover of America’s banking. Gunther’s essays on the Federal Reserve were released in 1992. They were among the first in recent history to tell the whole truth.
There was another reason George Bush feared Gunther Russbacher enough to try to kill him. Bush knew Gunther had the power to place the world on a gold standard once again and thereby put an end to the looting of nations by the international bankers!
There is a war taking place in the monetary system. This war started hundreds of years ago. The players that vied for power five hundred years ago, are the same players, i.e. their physical and ideological descendants who are fighting today. These players are divided into two camps. One camp consists of the royal families, which at one time or another, (with the exception of the British monarchy), were all under the banner of Austrian Empire. The other side is made up of international bankers and the British monarchy.
Gunther is a Hapsburg Baron on his father’s side, and a member of the Hungarian Esterhaszy family on his mother’s side. The international bankers destroyed the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the late 1890’s. Since this didn’t destroy the Hapsburgs completely, WWI and WWII were started to finish the job and drive Austria and Germany into the ground.
During WWII, there was a group of men, in Austria and Germany, who understood the full picture. They had tried to work with Britain and the United States to bring the war to a quick conclusion. But their overtures were rebuffed. These men were all part of the royal family. The men who headed the group were all Knights Templars. These men were Abwehr (military intelligence) officers. The Abwehr was headed by, Admiral Wilhelm Canaris.
Canaris used his position as the head of military intelligence, not only to plan the assassination of Adolph Hitler, but he used his power to smuggle gold. The gold he smuggled had been stolen by Hitler from the Austrian treasury. The gold was not just ANY gold. It was Templar gold and Canaris was the head of the Templars.
For fifty years the gold lay hidden. If it had been brought back into Austria before the 50 year hidden agreement had transpired, the gold would have been claimed by Israel as war reparations… and it would have gone directly into the banks of the International banking cartel.
After WWII, members of the royal families were ordered to sign contracts stating that they would never try to restore the monarchy. Gunther never signed this agreement. This is the reason he and his mother were sent into exile. Gunther is one of the last pureblooded royals of the old Austro-Hungarian Empire.
When Gunther and his mother were exiled in 1954, it was done to keep any legitimate heir to the Austrian throne from establishing a power base within Austria that could eventually help him regain the throne. Because Gunther had not signed the contract with the global slave masters, he became the highest-ranking true Hapsburg. Because of this, it was his job to bring home the gold.
George Bush feared Gunther because he was the only person who could bring the hidden gold back into Europe. Once it is back in Europe, it will be used to create a gold standard, not just for Europe. . . but for the world. Once that happens, the Federal Reserve Banking cartel is over! When this happens, not only will George Bush be finished, but his entire way of life will be finished.
Almost immediately upon his release from jail in December of 1993, Gunther became the central figure in the transfer of a huge amount of gold from the Philippines to Austria. I was told that the gold would be used to destroy the Federal Reserve and the New World Order.
The gold returned to Europe in December of 1994. It first went to a smelter in Greece where the bars were melted down and the Swastikas removed. The gold was then distributed to the countries whose treasuries had been looted first by Hitler and then by the Russians. There is enough gold to put every country in Europe on a gold standard, with some left over for other countries. When the gold based currencies go into effect, this will mean the end of the age-old enemy of the Hapsburg bloodline.
Gunther’s health had suffered under the stress of the recent open-heart surgery as well as his confinement for the last four years. His liver was swollen, his pancreas was failing, and his kidneys were shutting down. He was afraid to go into an American hospital. He felt he would be killed. Several men, who were also involved in the gold transfer, took him to Austria.
He was arrested for entering on illegal documents. During the arrest, he suffered a heart attack. He was taken, via helicopter, to a hospital. The charges were eventually dropped, I joined him in Austria and we tried to complete the gold transfer, get our commission and retire somewhere to recuperate.
What appeared to be a done deal soon became a nightmare of tangled threads that stretched from the gold mines of King Solomon, to the gold teeth of Hitler’s holocaust victims. Gunther and I were impeded at every turn. Representatives of the Austrian government told us that the Jews felt the gold we were trying to bring back into Europe came from the teeth of their grandfathers.
Gunther and I had been told that the gold was from the Austrian treasury and had been stolen by Hitler in 1938. We had been told that the symbol for Austrian gold, a fox, was still stamped on all the bars. However, we weren’t told that the bars also had HH and the swastika stamped on them. The HH stands for Hitler Helvatia. Helvatia is a Latin name for Switzerland. The Swiss were Hitler’s bankers.
While waiting for the gold transfer to go through, Gunther and I stayed in a lodge outside of Salzburg. Gunther told me that the lodge had been in his family for over 600 years. He said it belonged to the Esterhaszy family of Hungary. His mother was an Esterhaszy.
While we were at the lodge, we had dinner each night with members of the Hapsburg family. Most of the people we had dinner with were the members of the family who had refused to sign the Allies agreement regarding the restoration of the Monarchy. As a result of this, they were stripped of their lands and wealth. The ones who signed the agreement and said they would never try to restore the monarchy were given their titles, lands and wealth.
I discovered that the Lodge where we stayed was not an ordinary lodge. It served as a meeting place for some of the highest-ranking members of the opposition to the New World Order. It was at this Lodge that I learned that the opposition to the New World Order is not just made up of Hapsburgs, but of Knights Templars.
I learned that the Hapsburgs who are part of the Opposition to the NWO are all Knights Templars. I was told some of the history of the Templars. The story is too long to tell here, but can be in this volume’s section I, under New World Governance–Knights Templar, Faction II.)
In 1994, Gunther and other members of Faction 2, who are Knights Templars, arranged for the Philippine gold to be returned to Austria.
One of the men who arranged this transfer and knew Gunther was the one who had to do it, was the very same Admiral who had caused us so much grief. Admiral William Johann was the illegitimate son of Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. But he was only illegitimate in the Hapsburg line, in the Templars; he was considered the legitimate head of the order.
After several months in Austria, trying to close the gold transfer, we had run into betrayal, intrigue, lies and disinformation. Gunther was growing weaker and sicker. His heart pain was unbearable. He had suffered two or three heart attacks and had been taken to emergency rooms. The doctors in Austria put him on the heart transplant list. They told us the doctors in Missouri had butchered him and the only thing that would save his life would be a heart transplant. Gunther was in tremendous pain from his heart. To stop the pain, he started drinking. We did not know that his pancreas had shut down which caused the alcohol to go directly into his blood stream. I thought he had become an alcoholic overnight, and I was furious with him.
He was in no condition to complete the gold transfer. After weeks of put-offs from the Austrian National Bank, he finally realized that if he were to ever accomplish what his ancestors have been trying to accomplish for hundreds of years, he would have to let go of everything. The commission on the gold deal would have made us two of the richest people in the world. Because of the way we had been treated at the hands of our “out of control” government, we had plans for publishing and film companies that would begin to educate the people about the conspiracy to make them eco-slaves of a One World government.
It was hard to let go of the dream of awakening the world, but there was no other way for the gold to get back into Europe. On a train from Salzburg to Vienna, Gunther finally decided that the only way to save the gold deal, was to give it away . . . all of it.
He called Kurt Waldheim, the man who had been instrumental in keeping him alive during his years in prison. Kurt Waldheim was the president of Austria while Gunther was incarcerated in the United States. Now he was the head of a non-governmental organization called, The League of the United Nations.
Gunther and I went to Dr. Waldheim’s office in Vienna. Waldheim was with the King of Denmark as we entered the outer office. We were told to wait. The King soon left and we were ushered in. In a few sentences Gunther explained what was happening. Waldheim gave him the name of a man within the Foreign Ministry and arranged a meeting. Waldheim then showed us out, stopping to introduce us to Helmut Kohl, Chancellor of Germany, as we left his office.
Gunther turned the gold deal completely over to Waldheim, including all the commission. When his American partners, who had financed the deal, for a share of the commission, discovered what he had done, they stopped funding us. This left us penniless on the streets of Vienna. Gunther called the American Embassy in Vienna, where he had been CIA station chief in the 70’s. He asked for help. They told him, due to the Haiti crisis, he had just been reactivated into the Navy. He was told an airplane would come to take us back to the United States.
I felt another set-up coming on. Gunther had been on probation when he left the United States, and he would be arrested if he returned. No matter how hard I tried; I could not make him see what was going to happen. In anger I told him I was not going to stand by and watch him end up in an American prison again. I left him in the hotel where the U.S. Embassy had put us up. I caught a midnight train, from Vienna to Frankfurt. From Germany, I took a plane home to California.
When I arrived home, I learned Gunther had been arrested for not paying his hotel bill. He was sentenced to two years in an Austrian prison.
In a letter that Russbacher wrote me from prison on November 26, 1994, he gave the partial history of the gold transfer which was code named Operation White Robe. This is what he wrote:
‘Let me give you a bit of background for Operation White Robe. It begins with the U.S. government imposing an embargo against the Swiss in WWII. They (the Swiss) had been making deals with the Nazis. They allowed them to use their rail systems to bring war materials to the German troops of Italy. In return, the Swiss were the true bankers of the Third Reich.
To further the true meaning of hypocrisy, the Swiss received coal from Germany. (the Swiss have none of their own). The U.S. government went straight for the jugular and imposed an all out food embargo. Almost 60% of Swiss food was imported from other European markets. The Swiss told the U.S., in 1944, to go to hell and they began importing foodstuffs from South America. The vessels flew Liberian and Swiss flags. The U.S. put a halt to that in December of 1944.
The Swiss had almost all of Hitler’s gold, which he had seized from Jews, the National Bank of Austria, Belgium, France and numerous other countries. The gold was a real sore point for the U.S. They wanted it in their hands. The Swiss, operating on orders from Hitler’s men, began the long and worrisome transport of the metal to Argentina and Paraguay. After March of 1954, the gold bars and chunks of used gold, were shipped to a remote area of the Philippines.
There it has remained until we (Ed. Note: meaning Gunther, Rayelan and the group they worked with) entered the picture. Only a hundred or so people knew about this horde of precious metals. The White Robes (The Knights Templar) became involved because great gold monstrances (crucifixes) as well as solid gold chalices and coins were robbed from many churches (Catholic of course). It became a brand new quest for about 30 of us. Most of these men were my seniors and have long since died without fulfilling their cause. With the deaths of my two best friends in Laos this February, (1994) I was the only one left who was empowered to move the gold.
Even though it looked to you that I was a recent player in the gold transfer, the truth is, I have known about it my entire life, and I knew that eventually the gold would return to Austria. It will return to Austrian in 1995, 50 years after the end of the war.’
While Gunther was in prison in Austria, I worked in an answering service. While I worked there, Gunther and I started Rumor Mill News. On December 23, 1996 Gunther was released from prison in Austria. On the 26th, he would have had access to the money in a small bank account he set up years before. There was enough money in the account to bring me to Europe, and take care of us until he got the rest of his affairs in order. We were joyously planning the rest of our lives together.
On December 23rd, a film producer from England, named Jane Ryder met Gunther outside the Austrian prison. Jane had made several trips to California to visit me. She told me she was doing a film and needed information. I gave her everything she requested, including a copy of The Obergon Chronicles.
After she read The Obergon Chronicles, she said something that should have alerted me as to what was going to happen. She told me she believed she was Shalma. Shalma was the earth woman that Atalon, my other half, i.e. Gunther, kidnapped and removed from Earth. To make Shalma fall in love with him, Atalon used mind control to erase the memory of her soul mate and true love. Then Atalon used mind control to make Shalma believe she was in love with him.
After several phone calls to me, Gunther and Jane vanished for one month. During that month, I went through with the lecture Gunther and I set up to expose government mind control and government created “new age channels”.
When Gunther finally surfaced, he was in jail in Los Alamos, New Mexico. He had no memory of me. He thought Jane was his wife. For a short time, he regained his memory and told me that he had been subjected to mind control. Did Jane subject him to mind control? Or were both of them victims of our government?
In the Obergon Chronicles, Atalon/Gunther subjects Shalma/Jane to mind control so she will not remember her soul mate. In real life, Gunther was subjected to mind control and forgot he was married to me, the soul that was destined to join with his, Rayelan/ Raelon.
Gunther was transferred from New Mexico to Missouri to face charges there. After a short time in Missouri, Gunther lost his memory again. He no longer remembered he had ever loved me, been married to me, or what we had gone through together. I called to tell Gunther that Allan Frankovich, a documentary film maker who was Jane’s partner, died of a heart attack in Houston. In a voice that sounded like evil incarnate, Gunther told me, “He didn’t die of a heart attack, it was a blood clot, and if you don’t leave me alone, YOU’RE NEXT!”
Gunther pled guilty to charges in April of 1994. He agreed to leave the country and never return. He and Jane moved to England. They were married a few months later. Gunther had not bothered to divorce me. I have not talked with Gunther since that time.
Q: Gunther Russbacher “shape-shifted” into a totally different person in front of your eyes and said that he was Atalon, the main character from your book “The Obergon Chronicles.” Many years later, this still must seem totally surreal to you. What do you make of this now?
A: I still find it hard to believe. After knowing what I know now, about mind control and holographic projections, I wonder if this was done to him through some kind of outside technology. What happened to him that first night was different from the other times I saw him “shape shift”.
Q: You mean there were other times?
A: The second time it happened was later on the first night we met. We were in Gunther’s hotel room when he suddenly changed into a Roman soldier. He began quoting from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. These are famous writings which were written by a Roman Emperor and soldier. For years, I had known that I had been the co-Emperor with Aurelius. I was his cousin, a man of few redeeming virtues, named Lucien Veras. Because of this connection to Aurelius, I had read a great deal about him. When Gunther ‘shape shifted’ into Aurelius and began quoting verses from his Meditations, I became even more certain that Gunther and I were the two halves of a soul.
Another time he “shape shifted” in front of me occurred in July of 1990, right before we got to Offutt Air force Base. We had stopped at a restaurant in Iowa. While we were there, we were joined by Garret Henderson, one of Gunther’s friends, the one he thinks was killed in 1994. Since Garrett was one of my “sources” for Rumor Mill News, I know that he wasn’t physically killed; only the alias, i.e., the name Garret was killed. While I was in the restaurant bathroom, Garret put LSD in my coffee. I did not drink my coffee when I came out. It was cold. Just as we were getting up to leave, Gunther grabbed for it and finished it off with one gulp. I remember seeing Garrett try to grab it, but I did not understand the significance at the time.
Gunther and I checked into a motel. We were exhausted and I fell asleep immediately. When I awoke, I saw the most incredible thing I have ever seen. Gunther was pacing the floor of the motel room talking to himself. Each time he would speak, he became a different person. His voice would change, his face would change, even his height appeared to change.
I still barely knew Gunther. We had only been married two days when he was arrested and transported to Missouri. I had not seen him in almost 11 months. For all I knew he could have been a multiple personality type.
After he recovered enough to make a phone call, he told me that Garrett had put LSD in my coffee. Gunther explained that what I had seen were all of his aliases.
To show me that he was not “crazy”, he “shape shifted” into each alias in front of me. He told me that there was nothing abnormal or alien about this. It didn’t take any special magic skills; it took a CIA laboratory, drugs, electrodes and hypnosis. He said it took two full years to create a full alias.
When Gunther shaped shifted into “Bob”, the naval officer, I could see the Sean Connery look-alike I fell in love with so many years ago. Then he shifted into Emery Peden, the stockbroker. He looked old, fatter and ordinary. Then he became a man he called Jerome, another stockbroker. Jerome was in his late 60’s or early 70’s. Gunther went from being a 30-year-old Navy pilot, to a 70-year-old arthritic stockbroker in just seconds.
There were a few more aliases. James was the U.S. Attorney. David was the State Department officer. Gerhard was the German intelligence officer. There was also a Russian KGB agent, a Middle Eastern terrorist, a German terrorist, and even a few women. He did not change physically when he became the women. He said he only imitated them on the phone.
While we were in Winnemucca, Nevada, the place where he and Richard Brenneke were raised, he became an American Indian and told me the story of how the White men took his land and killed his people.
Another time occurred in front of a large number of people. When we were in Austria, Gunther stood in front of a picture of one of his ancestors. We were in a museum and were surrounded by dozens of people. In front of everyone, he assumed the same pose as his ancestor, and suddenly, he WAS his ancestor! For a moment, Gunther and the picture looked identical. Then he stepped away and became Gunther again. I could hear the people who were taking the tour with us gasp. Some of them took pictures.
Q: You state: ‘He (Gunther) said he had called his boss and requested permission to marry me.’ Being someone who has not had much exposure to Military life, it seems odd to me that someone would have to ask ‘permission’ to marry. Is this standard protocol, or was there something special about Gunther’s situation?
A: Gunther told me this was standard operating procedure for a covert operative. I have never asked about it, I just accepted his explanation.
Q: At critical junctures in your life, there always appeared a “voice” of guidance. Who/what do you feel this voice is/was? Do you still hear this voice?
A: No, I no longer hear voices; I now have inner “knowings”. Sometimes I am awakened in the night, or sometimes I will be driving and suddenly I will “know” something. Many of the puzzle pieces that have been unconnected will suddenly fit into place. When I do my homework and check things out, I discover that the inner “knowings” are always right.
What do I think the voices were? As hard as it is for me to admit it, I believe I was used in some kind of mind control project by Navy Intelligence.
Q: What made you think you were NOT a “new age channel?”
A: It was another Admiral who first spilled the beans and let me know what had happened to me, and why I now think of myself as a Navy intelligence project, rather than a New Age Channel.
This happened while Gunther was in prison in Austria for entering the country without a passport. This must have been April or May of 1994. Admiral Raeder and several of Gunther’s friends and relatives would drop in and visit me. During one of these visits, Admiral Raeder talked about the New Age Channel JZ Knight.
“She was one of our early models,” he said. I asked him what he meant and he told me that her first husband was a dentist who did special jobs for Navy Intelligence. One of the jobs they asked him to do was put receivers in her teeth.
The Admiral told me that this was an early version of the technology they use now. I asked him why they were doing this. He told me that their enemy, i.e., the New World Order, was using New Age channels to subtly change the world we live in.
Admiral Raeder told me that his group was using New Age channels to release the real history of the planet earth. He talked about the new technology that was later used on JZ. He said it was a form of enhanced telepathy that had been developed for NASA. I remembered the first time I heard the voices. The man, who called himself Isham, told me that he was communicating with me using a form of telepathy. I slowly began to realize that the Obergon Chronicles and the rest of my “channeling”, had not come from ascended masters, it had come from Navy Intelligence operatives.
Admiral Raeder began talking about a few channels that were in his group. The way he spoke about them, it sounded like he was talking about me and the Obergon Chronicles. I don’t think I actually put two and two together until after he left. I later asked Gunther about it. Gunther was non-committal. He said it was possible that someone did this to me, but he did not confirm it. . .at the time.
In a strange coincidence, that I still wonder about, one of the men at the lodge in Austria started talking about the Obergon Chronicles. He said the stories had been discovered in King Solomon’s Temple. Did someone tell him to say this to make me believe that even though these stories were channeled to me via Navy Intelligence, that they were true? I don’t have an answer to this. As you can see, I still have many unanswered questions.
What the man at the lodge said, fits in with what Admiral Raeder said when he told me that his group was using New Age channels to release the real history of the world.
One of the last things Raeder told me was that JZ Knight’s ego got in the way and she began distorting the information they were transmitting to her. They said she taught them a lot, and by the time they got to the other people, (I am now sure he meant me,) they knew enough to put the new people through some kind of spiritual training first. He said they did this to make sure the channels wouldn’t dissolve into lower emotions once they realized how powerful they were. When he said this, I realized that the years I had spent with Nyster were for this reason.
Q: It often appears as if you were placed in situations deliberately by someone or something. As if there was a greater plan that you were being groomed for and manipulated into becoming a part of. Do you have any idea who it was that was placing you in these situations and what it was that they hoped to achieve?
A: I know the man who first manipulated us was Gunther’s Boss. Admiral William Johann. I also knew him as Admiral Tom West, Admiral Meyer, and a few others whose names I can’t remember right now. Admiral Johann is the man who took me to Mars back in 1986 – three years before I married Gunther, and four years before I officially met Admiral Johann. Shortly after I met Johann on Offutt Air Force Base, he took me to meet the King of the World. (This story is included in this anthology)
Admiral Johann was poisoned in 1993 and left the scene. I know he is still alive, I saw him briefly in 1999. I don’t know what he is doing or where he is. After Johann left, Admiral Raeder seemed to replace him. I think that Gunther and I were being set up to start some kind of new religion. But I don’t know for sure.
At the time Gunther disappeared with Jane, Gunther and I were scheduled to give a lecture in Florida on mind control. He was going to blow the lid off the Manchurian Candidate program and the religious cults who were programmed using mind control. The Moonies are the most famous example of this, but there was Waco, the Order of the Solar Temple, and Heaven’s Gate. And these are just the one that we know about!
Gunther was also going to expose a type of mind control called “over lays”. This is where an agenda, such as “saving the environment” or being adamantly ‘anti-abortion,’ is overlaid on your own personality. Sometimes I think that removing Gunther from me and erasing his memory of me was punishment for me for talking him into exposing the things about mind control that he did expose. He wrote an article called Operation Open Eyes. This article goes into many of the things I listed above.
I also think I started thinking for myself, and was no longer “controllable” by Gunther or his bosses. Maybe Gunther and Jane are now being used for the project that Gunther and I were supposed to carry out.
I wish I could say for sure what it was all about, but I don’t know. I wonder if I ever will.
Q: In Obergon Chronicles, the character Atalon has the power to “alter the most private thoughts of Terrans,” in fact much of Obergon reads as a primer on Mind Control. Did you realize this at the time it was dictated to you?
A: When the Obergon Chronicles were first channeled to me in 1981, I had never heard of mind control. I don’t think anyone outside of the intelligence community had heard of mind control in those days. Frank Sinatra starred in the film Manchurian Candidate. It had just been released when President Kennedy was assassinated. The film was pulled off the market for almost 20 years. That film and a few other low budget films about Korean brain washing were all I knew about mind control, and I really thought it was all “Hollywood hype”. When I wrote the Obergon Chronicles, it never occurred to me that the type of mind control Atalon used on Shalma was possible. Now I am sure it is.
Q: Jane Ryder stated to you that she believed she was Shalma from The Obergon Chronicles. In Obergon Chronicles, Atalon used mind control techniques on Shalma to make her forget her soul mate and to make her love him (Atalon.) Now it seems, in this context that Jane (Shalma) is taking revenge on Atalon (Gunther) by making him forget his soul mate in this lifetime, (you, Rayelan.) How do you work this out in your mind? Was Obergon used as a script to also control you and Gunther and Jane? Or is there something else going on here?
A: I think you hit the nail on the head. It appears that Atalon, in the body of Gunther, is being taught what it feels like to have your soul mate stolen from you through mind control.
While Shalma was under Atalon’s control, she had no memory of the soul mate she loved with all her heart. Now that Gunther (Atalon) is with Jane (Shalma), he has no memory of his soul mate, Rayelan (Raelon).
The only thing that gives me any solace is a part of the Obergon Chronicles which talk about Raelon’s betrothed, Fanra. Fanra is Raelon’s twin soul. They matured on a soul level together and they were betrothed by their fathers. They also have some kind of mission to carry out here on earth.
Over a year after Gunther left me, I met a man who many people say is like my twin. Our backgrounds are almost identical. We even have pictures of us at age 18 that look identical. If the Obergon Chronicles are true, and if I am Raelon, I have wondered if my new husband is Fanra.
And then there is that other part of me who thinks all of it was created to pull me into some kind of covert operation. Sometimes, I believe that Atalon and Raelon were created to make me believe that Gunther was my other half, and that no matter what the consequences were, I had to stay with him until we had finished our operation.
I am certain that defeating George Bush was one part of the operation. Maybe that was all of it. However, there were things that happened in Austria, including a remarriage in a Templar Ceremony, that make me think there might be more to come one of these days.
Q: What would you do if you heard a “voice” now?
A: I would tell it to shut up, leave me alone and get out of my life. In this day and age of electronic mind control devices, I really can’t imagine how anyone can take “new age channels” seriously. The sophistication of the mind control operations that are being conducted by our government and the New World Order should scare everyone.
Not only do they have machines that can put voices in our heads, they have devices that alter brain waves in an entire area. If they want to turn an entire town into psychopathic killers, they can do it. If they want an entire country to see and hear a new Messiah, they have the tools to do that. If they want to project an image of Jesus or Mohammed in the sky, they have the technology to create holographic images that not only can be seen, but can be heard. And these are just what the machines can do.
When you add hypnotism and drugs, you can add a whole new and even more frightening aspect to mind control. Most of this is covered in an article called “Operation Open Eyes” which was written by Gunther. He described the process of creating a Manchurian Candidate, someone who is programmed to carrying out a mission, usually an assassination. Gunther’s boss in Austrian Intelligence came to California—shortly before the 1999 Columbine High School shootings in Colorado, to explain to me how the New World Order is using mind control in a modified Hegelian Dialectic to change society.
Hegel’s famous Dialectic changes society by using an “antithesis” to change the “thesis” creating a “synthesis”. Using this method, a powerful group can introduce an “antithesis”, such as gun violence and mass murders to bring about legislation that will disarm America. In this century, each time a nation was disarmed, such as in Nazi Germany, Russia, Cambodia, genocide has taken place. The only reason the United States has not already fallen victim to a One World Government, is because we have guns. The Second Amendment is not about protecting ourselves from lions, tigers and bears; it is about protecting our Constitution and our country from our government.
Q: It sounds like what you have experienced is a combination of mind control, spiritual encounters and actual physical journeys, what advice would you give to someone on how to discern between the three?
A: I wish I had a simple and easy way for people to know how to do this. Sadly, I have not discovered the way. When someone is having a voice “channeled” to them by an intelligence agency or other nefarious earth based group, it is impossible for them to tell the difference between this and a true spiritual channel. I do believe real “channels” have existed. I have known some of them.
One group of women who I truly believe were channeling from spirit guides, “channeled” a book called, “Growth of a Soul”. Each person received different parts of the book. They wrote them on any kind of paper they could find. When they presented the book to the publisher, they gave it to him in a grocery bag full of pieces of paper. He and his wife, my teacher, Dorie D’Angelo, pieced together the book like a jigsaw puzzle.
Phylos, the Tibetan, channeled a book called “Dweller on Two Planets”. It was published in the 30’s or 40’s. Phylos channeled the book, “Growth of a Soul” in the early 50’s. It was not published until the 70’s. I knew Josephine Taylor, one of the women who was part of the channeling project. I believe she was a true channel. She started channeling as a child in the late 1800’s. I met her when she was close to 100 years old.
Q: After your conversation with the Admiral about the enhanced telepathy, you came to believe that the “voices” were actually being transmitted to you by Naval intelligence. Then later, you were told by the man in Austria that the Obergon Chronicle stories had been discovered in King Solomon’s Temple. Do I understand you correctly when it appears as if there are different “factions” behind the mind control/transmissions as well? And that one of these “factions” might actually be transmitting the truth?
A. When I was in Austria, I was told by the men I met at the Templar Lodge that their group is using mind control technology, i.e. “space based telepathy” to tell the real history of the planet earth. They told me they are doing this to bring up the awareness of the population. I was told that soon they are going to release absolute proof that the history of the planet we have been taught through religions and history books is wrong.
The men at the lodge told me that if they released this information to a society like we had in the 50’s, the people could not accept it. That is why society is being changed through the introduction of new concepts through new age channels. This group appears to be giving their “channels” the real stuff. The process they use to channel this information is telepathy. It is “enhanced” telepathy which uses some kind of radio or microwave to put someone else’s thoughts in your mind.
I have been told that one or two of the “channels” who were developed by Faction Two–the anti NWO faction, have actually developed the ability to communicate telepathically. This is all that real channeling is . . . telepathic communication with other sentient beings, no matter where or in what form they reside.
I also know that the other side, the New World Order, also use new age channels. They use them in various ways, but usually they are used to create a spiritual community in which mind control and programming can be easily used with no questions asked. The Moonies, Jonestown and the Temple of the Solar Order are the best examples of this kind of programming through channels.
Q: So, what I understand that you are saying is that there are two factions that are transmitting information through so-called “channelers” One of these factions is doing this for control and to promote a New World Order Agenda, while the other one is actually transmitting the true history of the planet earth? When you read channeled information are YOU able to distinguish between the two?
A: This is a very good question. It would be nice if I could give two or three good ways for people to distinguish the lies from the truth. Sadly, if there is an easy way, I haven’t found it yet. I used to think that I could tell who belongs to which group by looking at the messages they produced. If they talked about a One World, then I usually put them into the New World Order group. Then I realized that that both groups talk about a One World. The difference in their approach is one group believes in human sovereignty, and the other group wants to take most of humanity back to the days of serfs and peasants.
However, even knowing this, you can’t always count on being able to use this tool to decide if the “channeler” is promoting a new world order, or if they are simply being realistic and understand that humans are going to have to learn how to live together and cooperate so they don’t use their advanced technology to destroy civilization. The long and the short of it is, there is no hard and fast rule for being able to tell who is good and who is bad.
One of the lessons all of us are learning right now is discernment. Using your own discernment is the key to understanding most things. Discernment can also be used to draw into your life the books and teachers you need. Once you have mastered “the art of discernment”, and are sure you can trust it, then you don’t have to use outside ‘tools’ or ‘tricks’ to be able to tell is something is good or bad for you. You will simply “know” at an inner level.
Q: You know that there will be people who read this and think that you are delusional or worse. What do you have to say regarding this?
A: I have been under attack ever since I started sharing my information. Over the years, the attacks have ranged from name calling, to attacks on my animals, to assassination attempts on me. When you compare being called a name versus having speeding cars and bullets aimed at you, it tends to put things in perspective. Name-calling doesn’t bother me.
I still get called names due to the articles I write for Rumor Mill News. Most of these names are unprintable. Back in 1998, when I said that Hillary Clinton was going to run for the Senate from New York, I received hundreds of angry emails telling me I was insane. Many people demanded that they be removed from my mailing list. Last year, when I published an article about the Aztlan Liberation Army, and their plan to take back the South Western United States for Mexico, I was also subjected to hundreds of angry and insulting emails. Just this week, a major newspaper published the same information.
There will always be people who are afraid of the truth. When they don’t like the message, they attack the messenger. This is just the way it is and always has been. Everyone who pushes the fabric gets treated like this. Galileo was censored, tried by the Inquisitors, tortured and imprisoned. Until human consciousness changes, there will always be people who attack things they don’t like, don’t understand, or don’t want exposed.
When you choose to do what I do, you have to face all the possible consequences, no matter how bad they may be. If you feel that what you are doing is more important than the consequences, then you continue your work. As the years go on, you eventually get used to the name-calling. You learn how to deal with it, or you stop doing the work.
I have learned to use my own discernment to decide which attacks need to be countered, and which ones need to be ignored. This is the key! Ignore the things that won’t hurt you, and deal with the attacks that will.
One of the last pieces of advice Gunther gave me before he disappeared was, “If something happens and I am not around to protect you, make yourself so incredible that you become un-credible.”
He explained that people who might want to silence my message would rather discredit me than kill me. Dead people become martyrs, discredited people remain nuts, kooks, conmen, and charlatans.
If I have a choice between being dead or discredited, I am going to choose to be discredited. George W. Bush is President. I am working on a book that charges his father with treason. When it is published, I hope that President George. W. Bush will choose to discredit me rather than make me a martyr. With this article, I have given him all the ammunition he needs!
Theresa de Veto is the Founder and Editor of http://www.surfingtheapocalypse.com , a comprehensive website that deals with controversial, hidden and late-breaking news addressing a myriad of topics. Coming from a background of broadcast radio and the music industry, she conducts interviews with interesting, innovative and mysterious people; those persons the “controlled” media would never dare approach for an impartial discussion. Her many interviews may be found on her website located at:
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