Bridge #3 (cont)

Some more thoughts on being a bridge in the church/christianity area:

I want to make it clear that I have not turned my back on the Bible. I stated that I have not turned my back on organized religion, but this may not have been clear regarding Christianity’s holy scriptures, the Bible. I still value the ancient writings. I still go to them on occasion. But what I am saying is that the Bible is not the first place I go when I search for truth.

I believe that I am holding the biblical writings closer to the way they were intended to be viewed, not in the way the Church has proclaimed they should be viewed. They are stories, stories of people trying to make sense of the divine. They are inspired (although from a purely biblical point-of-view the inspiration can really only be applied to the Old Testament!).

Much of the way the Bible has been proclaimed by Church has been in order to strengthen Church’s hold on peoples’ lives. If “salvation” can only be gained through Church’s involvement, then Church grows in importance. If however, people come to see that knowledge and experience of the divine can be achieved without the help of Church, then Church diminishes in importance in society. Therefore we can be assured Church will fight to the bitter end the sorts of views I am espousing.

Some of the shifts in belief this has led to in my experience are as follows:

  1. There is no judgement! God does not judge. And therefore we are not to judge–ourselves or others! This is huge! Especially in the conservative circles in which I have spent most of my life. Rather than judgement, the divine realm teaches. God wants us to progress in our spiritual life. “Judgement” implies failure or success. Not in heaven! Rather, there is evaluation. Did that particular decision result in growth? Or did it set you back? We incarnate in order to learn certain lessons. At the end of each life we take a look and see how we did with those lessons. Did the accomplishment of a particular task lead us to moving on to the next step in our spiritual growth? Did a not-so-successful lesson mean we will have to learn that particular lesson in another life? It is not so much a “do-over” as it is a learning environment. We are shown our past life in a completely, overwhelmingly loving way how we did. And we get to participate in the evaluation and decisions about what needs to be done next.
  2. The entire question which obsesses Church and its people is that of redemption. Church teaches that Jesus “died for our sins”. His death and resurrection was for our salvation. This entire area of doctrine I leave to others to discern! I don’t know the answers. I believe that Jesus was probably an historical figure. And likely was crucified. But the whole dying for our sins bit I have serious questions about. That doctrine seems entirely too, too close to what I mentioned above–a way for Church to have power over peoples’ lives. There are exalted beings in the Spirit realm. Of that I have no doubt. I’ve met some of them. And I believe Jesus was one of these. But certainly not the only one. If he has some preeminent position above all other spirit beings, I concede could be possible; of the higher levels of heaven I have limited knowledge. But I know Jesus is up there among the most powerful and wise beings in the divine realms. He still speaks today. To many of his followers.
  3. Regarding the written scriptures, one more point: whenever spiritual messages, God’s “word” if you will, get written down, it is almost impossible to continue to hear God speak. This has happened over and over again throughout history. Consider the Jewish scriptures. For several centuries, over many generations, God spoke through wise beings usually called prophets. If you read the Hebrew scriptures, these prophets were often very dynamic and interesting people. They proclaimed the messages of heaven to the people. Mostly these messages were transmitted orally through multiple retellings of the stories. When these got written down, roughly around 500 years before the time of Jesus, the dynamic, personal, exciting messages largely ceased. By the time Jesus lived on earth God’s word was largely discerned through a study of the written-down record of what he had spoken many years earlier. Then consider the Christian writings, the “new” testament. Jesus lived a few decades on earth; he gathered some followers. They told and retold the stories they had learned from Jesus and had experienced through sharing life with him. Again, as these original followers began to die off, their followers decided they needed to preserve these stories. So anywhere from 30 to 70 years after the time of Jesus, and the following two to three centuries many accounts were written down and circulated among groups of followers. There were incredibly diverse interpretations of what and who Jesus was. But at some point around 300 years following Jesus’ time on earth, Church leaders held conferences to decide which of the these writings were to be preserved as a record of the history of Church. The writings they rejected were largely destroyed, in order to present a unified picture of who Jesus was and who his followers were and were to be like. In the period following, in which we still live, nothing was permitted to be added to these writings. The Bible, as it came to be called, was complete. All of our messages from the divine were to be discerned through studying the scriptures. Do you see the pattern? They followed almost precisely the pattern of their Jewish forebears. After writing down the scriptures, direct messages from God ceased. Heaven became silent. It fell to study, discussion, proclamation, arguing, etc, to determine what God says.

In my personal journey with God I have moved beyond the need for Church and its doctrines. I will listen to God’s word wherever and through whomever I encounter it.

Bridge #3: Church/Christianity

Years ago, when moving to a new city and connecting with a new church, a leader in that church stated, “We are not biblicists.” I had not heard that word before. I had a sense what he meant by that, but certainly not a full idea of what it meant to be a “biblicist” or to not be a “biblicist”. That concept is much clearer today than it has ever been, in my life. I most certainly am not a biblicist!

I think I was a biblicist in the past, for much of my life. Truth was determined by what the Bible said. In earlier church experiences we would spend huge amounts of time and effort in studying the scriptures and hearing God speak through them.

Just a few years back now, as I was visiting with a friend who I knew as a fairly conservative evangelical Christian, I made the statement that I no longer went to the Bible as my first source of truth. “What?” he screeched (pretty much, anyway!!!). It is inconceivable for conservative Christians (“biblicists”) to entertain such a concept. Indeed, for me, in the past, this was inconceivable.

And I have to admit, it has taken me decades to get to this point: past the point of being a biblicist. My development has been painfully slow. I do not learn quickly, I guess. I do believe, and believe very firmly, that it has been God who has gently and slowly, at my own pace, led me to this point of belief. It is God’s Spirit who has led me beyond biblicism.

I use the term “God” here, only because of my past experience. That is how I viewed the divine for most of my life, and it still feels the most natural way to refer to the Spirit dimension. But be aware that my view of “God”, of who God is, of how he/she operates, has changed radically over the years. My former, biblical, view of God is rapidly disappearing. This view is being replaced by my experiences of God, the divine, the spirit realm, the universe.

Although it is very simplistic to say it this way, my view of God has gone from being a mostly intellectual exercise in studying the scriptures to being an experience, a knowing. A few years ago my wife shared with me a video of Carl Jung being interviewed late in his life by a BBC reporter. The reporter asked him, “Dr Jung, people want to know if you still believe in God.” The wise old psychologist was quiet for a bit. His reply was something like this: “Believe. I have trouble with that word. Believe. I know that God is. I know God. I don’t have to believe.”

Wow!! I could immediately identify with that idea. I have experienced the divine; I have experienced the spirit realm. I don’t need to believe. I know!!! And that is so much more powerful and real than any intellectual exercise in understanding God through written documents. Does that make me a “gnostic” Christian? I’m not sure. It’s not a really important question to me. [If you read the “Out of Winkler” section of this blog site, you will understand a little of what I have been through in my journey to arrive at this point in my life.]

It has been an exciting journey to get here. And “arrive” is not the correct term, either. Because I am still walking the walk! I am still on the journey. And I expect I will be for the remainder of my eternal existence. In fact, this journey has me in a bit of a conundrum right now!

When looking back on my life, there were times when I thought I knew pretty much. I thought I had it together. I had answers for most of life’s difficult questions. And especially was this true in the area of faith and theology. Now, I have experienced so much more; I know so much more than I ever did back then; I have grown so much, and am so much farther ahead. And yet, I feel in a way that I know so much less. Thus the “conundrum”! Because a large part of my increasing knowledge includes a vastly increased understanding of just just how much I do not yet know! So while in the past I felt I knew a pretty large percentage of what there was to know, now, though my knowledge is greater, I am aware that what I know and have experienced is just a small percentage of what there is to know (and experience!).

So how does this make me a “bridge” in this area of my life? I feel I have moved beyond orthodox religion and am now a more spiritual person. I have moved beyond a book religion to a personal experience of the divine. I have moved from learning from predecessors (including the biblical writers) to learning first-hand who “God” is, and what the Spirit realm is all about.

I have not turned my back on organized religion. I still value my upbringing in the Church. But I no longer feel a need for Church. I occasionally attend; I am a member of a local congregation in Calgary. But not because I need Church for any sense of “salvation”. I just like the connections. I enjoy the people who are part of my local congregation. I like the pastor (who, by-the-way, knows where I stand on this issue!!).

And I do not know what my place in all this is, or will be. My transitioning to this new position is currently pretty much a private one. And I am very happy for it to be this way. I have quite dramatically switched my view of myself in relation to the divine. But I have no drive to force this view on others. I am content to live my life quietly, contemplating what Spirit might be doing in our world. I seek wisdom from various sources. I pray daily. I listen to what heaven is saying to me personally. But I do not sense any earth-shaking role in helping others make a similar transition. I do not foresee this changing in the future. But I am open to whatever comes. If my being a bridge will help others, I would be very glad and willing. But I don’t know if that will ever occur. We will see!!

Bridge #2: Class

It has been quite awhile since I blogged “Bridge #1”! I live a busy life: what can I say?!!!

I am on holidays this week, sitting in a fancy hotel in downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico! What a life! Santa Fe is absolutely, stunningly beautiful! While I have travelled through the state of New Mexico numerous times in my life, I had never been to or through Santa Fe. What a blessing my life has been. I have experienced so many things, have been to so many places, know people in many places, and in various walks of life.

This contributes to the view of me being a bridge between classes. I grew up in a working-class family. My father was a farmer, then turned to welding as an occupation. He then became a maintenance foreman, later a maintenance electrician. He could fix anything. He had an appliance repair business for awhile. I relied heavily on him to fix things around our house whenever he would come to visit. But he never finished high-school, at least not until later in life. And I grew up with a strong identification with working-class people. People who wore hardhats, carried lunchpails to work, were often found in dirty coveralls and with dirty hands.

I myself have dabbled in various trades. I operated machines in a book-binding shop. I worked for awhile as a mechanic’s helper, doing light mechanical work. (I have done a couple motor overhauls, which is a bit above “light” mechanical, but overhauling was never a huge part of any job I had.) I helped erect a metal farm shed; I have worked at several locations in construction, helping frame houses, pour concrete, etc. I have painted houses as a job. I have driven truck for periods of time. One summer I spent on a wheat-harvest crew, driving truck and combine from southern Oklahoma to northern Montana.

And I have gone on to obtain a Master’s degree. I have worked in several professions, including assistant nurse in a hospital, residential treatment facilities, church leadership including pastoring/preaching, suicide prevention coordinator giving educational presentations to schools and various professional and corporate agencies, chaplaincy in both hospital and correctional settings.

And currently I am a city bus driver, very much a “blue-collar” job. I have been doing this for nearly twenty years, and love it!!

I especially love driving in industrial areas of the city, taking people to their jobs, then home in dirty clothes, smelling of hard labour. I can easily talk to them about the travails of working for a living, finding a job, dealing with bosses, balancing family life with work, you name it. I’ve done most of that, and can relate readily.

But I can also mix easily with professional people. Because of my education, because of my experience in various professions, I can talk to professional people on their level. Not, of course on a technical level, but at a collegial level.

What all of this past experience in various levels of working class and professional circles means to me, I am not sure!! But it has been an incredibly interesting life; I have seldom been bored!

Having jumped around at various occupations and jobs, means I have never followed one career track for very long. Which means I have not advanced nearly to the level of many of my peers. It is tempting sometimes to look at my life as not very successful. But I don’t. I have very few, if any, regrets about my past. I made decisions at stages of my life using the best knowledge I had at the time. Sure, as we can all say, if I had it to do over again I’d make different decisions. But that sort of attitude usually results in thinking that if knew then what I know now. . . Which, in the end, is futile thinking. I did not know then what I know now. But I trust that back whenever, when I was making a certain decision, I had the knowledge to make the best decision I could at the time.

So this week I am in New Mexico, mixing with colleagues of my wife, all of whom have degrees, most of them with graduate degrees, some, like my wife, with post-graduate training and education. They are all attending an academic conference of Jungian psychology. And I feel completely comfortable rubbing shoulders with them. I don’t feel inadequate or less-than. I know that whatever level in life a person achieves, whether academic, financial, occupational, etc., everyone has similar struggles. I guess that is one advantage my very varied life has given me: a perspective to view life from different angles, from different strata if you will. For while western civilization likes to pride itself on being relatively class-less, there still exist class distinctions, like it or not.

I have experience in different classes within our society. I have experienced life at various socio-economic levels. And it is all good. There is no one class which is “better” than another. Earlier today, at a lecture at the psychology conference which brought us to Santa Fe, the speaker talked about material “success” not necessarily bringing happiness and satisfaction with life. I have the latter; I don’t necessarily have the former! And I am totally okay with that!

Bridge #1: Chronology

In posts the last two months I mentioned receiving a revelation about being a bridge. This bridging has occurred in my life in several ways. Today I want to talk about how I see myself as a bridge in time, or between time periods.

I was born on a farm in southern Manitoba. In the early fifties, when I lived there, we had no indoor plumbing. We had an outhouse in the summer. In the winter we had a portable toilet in the basement. We would huddle under some of the asbestos covered heating ducts from the furnace (which in my memory were like octopus arms, weaving here, there, and everywhere!).

The house was heated with coal. A room in the basement was to store the coal. This was fed through a chute from the outside. Coal would be hauled in by truck, and then dumped into the basement. The furnace was then fed by shovelling coal into it.

We had a cistern in the basement, basically one concrete room, with no door, but open at the top. I remember peering into it a few times. It was always very dark and looked quite sinister. We as children were often warned not to play near there, and certainly were never to climb into it!! During the winter my father would drive his pickup to a lake about ten miles away where workers were busy sawing (by hand!) huge blocks of ice out of Morden Lake. These were then loaded onto wagons or trucks. My father would dump this block of ice into the cistern to slowly melt and supply us with water. During the summer my mother would walk across the yard to the barn where our well was. We would hand-pump water into pails and haul it back to the house.

In fact, this feature of our farm likely saved my life! I am not sure exactly how old I was, but quite young. I was playing in the barn, around the ladder which went up into the hayloft. This ladder was just boards nailed across two vertical studs in the outside wall. Because bales of hay were often thrown from the hayloft down to the main floor through this hole where the ladder was, a lot of loose hay would build up around this area. Somehow, climbing and playing around this ladder, I had gotten myself turned upside down and wedged between the ladder and the wall. My head was down in loose hay and my nose and mouth were getting filled with dust and hay. My mother came to the well to get water and heard my feeble cries and came to rescue me. If not for the timing of this, I probably would’ve suffocated.

When it was time for our weekly bathing, we had a tin tub which was placed in the middle of the kitchen. My mother would have water heating in the kettle on the stove. Mixing this boiling water with cooler until the temperature was right, us boys got to bathe first, oft-times more than one in the tub at a time! Then my father would bathe, adding hot water as needed. Then the tub was emptied, and my mother would bathe with fresh water.

We had a phone in the house, like you now see only in museums, mounted on the wall, with an earpiece on a cord, a mouthpiece mounted on the wood box of the phone. There was a crank on the side of this box. I am not sure exactly what this crank did, but was probably linked somehow to the power needed to operate the phone. We were on a party line of course. And I remember at least once when my parents went to the neighbours a mile down the road, leaving me home (around age eight or nine) with my two younger brothers. They left the earpiece hanging by its cord. This way I guess the party line stayed open and they could periodically listen to see if all was quiet in our house. We were supposed to be in bed, sleeping!

I grew up in the 1950’s and we always had motorized transportation of course. But I can also boast of going to school by horse-and-buggy or horse-and-sleigh! Our road was a dirt road. When rain made it impassible our neighbour would hitch up his horses and, coming by our house, I would climb aboard and ride with him as he took his daughters to the one-room country school a mile and a half from our house. In winter when snow drifts closed the road, he would come by with horse-and-sleigh. I remember wrapping up in thick blanket or robes.  In the buggy I was fascinated watching little balls of mud being flung high into the air and come dropping down beside the buggy.

While performing my current job of driving city bus people sometimes ask me how long I’ve been driving. I mischievously answer, “60 years!” I began driving truck and tractor on the farm around age eight. My father would proudly tell the stories of my helping with harvest. I would sit in the 3/4 ton pickup at the edge of the field and watch as my father pulled the combine slowly around the field. When the combine hopper filled up, my father would wave, I would put the truck into low gear and slowly drive across the field. I would pull the truck right up beside the combine and could judge very well exactly where to stop so my father could empty the grain into the truck. When the truck was full, my father and I would switch positions, he driving the truck six miles to the elevator, and I driving the tractor, pulling the combine around the field. My father told of returning to the field and seeing me up at the hopper, moving grain around with my hands to the empty corners in order to be able to keep on going until the truck returned to empty the hopper.

Another driving story: My father had left the pickup a half mile from our yard, out at the highway, with a tank of water (I guess drinking water). The dirt road was muddy and he feared getting stuck. One morning he said he was going to walk down and get the truck. I replied that I wanted to go get it! My mother did not like the idea but my father allowed me to do this. So I walked the half-mile down to the highway, started the truck up, and slowly drove it up the slight grade to our farm. I don’t think I drove fast enough to shift gears, likely just idling it slowly along. At the turn into our driveway, my father said he was watching me approach. I was going too fast for the turn and he was afraid his trust in me was misplaced. He thought I would crash into the ditch. But I wrestled that truck around the corner and into the driveway. My father said it leaned over quite severely but I was able to keep it under control. I didn’t know what all the fuss was about later!! Between my mother and father!!

Sundays we would drive the ten miles into town for church services. Often we would visit my maternal grandparents after church, and often with other cousins present. My Grandpa Janzen had a television! This was really special in those days. Sometime during Sunday afternoon the TV set would be tuned to one of only two or three channels, to receive “Lassie”. In grainy, often snowy, black-and-white we watched enraptured each week’s episode.

So, my beginnings were fairly primitive by today’s standards. But I have so many fond memories of that farm and my foundation in life. I was nine years old when we moved off the farm and into a small town. Which also was a good experience. But I am always proud to identify myself as a Manitoba farm boy!!!

Now, of course, in the span of my life, I am blogging, on an iMac with a 27″ screen. I have an iPhone. I built, owned and flew my own airplane. I travel by airlines to numerous parts of the world to visit. The world has changed drastically during my nearly-seventy years. But I can remember my simpler early years. I can understand an older generation when they talk about the “hard times”. And I can also enjoy the relatively easier lifestyle I now live. I have bridged the times from hard-scrabble Canadian prairie life to life in a modern city.

Blocked, part the second

Before getting into the four areas of being the connecting link which my life has been, I want to add a couple insights.

I am married to a Jungian psychoanalyst. As she has entered and navigated this world of Jungian psychology I have learned hugely! Attending a Jungian lecture the other day I was struck by some psychological insights which shed light on where I view myself today.

Carl Jung himself, of course, coined the term “Individuation” to describe the process or state of reaching relative maturity. This is when a person has reached a place of having separated from parents, from culture, from society’s norms. They have become their own person, in their own right. They have individuated. They are competent and comfortable in who they are. They feel accepting of the stage of life they find themselves in. And all this as they continue to grow and expand their horizons, as they continue to learn new understandings. This is not a stagnant stage, but a dynamic, evolving stage of life.

Other psychologists have added their own insights to this stage of life, most often occurring in the latter stages of life. Maslow has his famous hierarchy of needs. His understandings conclude that all humans go through various stages of life, meeting certain needs. One stage of needs must be met before a person can fully enter the next stage. The final stage of life, when all other needs in their life have been met, is the stage he called “Self-Actualization”. From a limited understanding of Maslow I believe he was describing a state somewhat similar to Carl Jung’s “Individuation”.

Erik Erikson became famous for describing the development of the individual through various stages of life. These stages are most obvious when describing the stages children go through as they enter life and grow up. But Erikson said that development does not stop with the end of childhood. Humans continue to develop throughout life. His final stage, Stage 8, he labelled “Wisdom, Ego Integrity vs Despair”. Wikipedia describes this stage: “It is during this time that we contemplate our accomplishments and are able to develop integrity if we see ourselves as leading a successful life. If we see our life as unproductive, or feel that we did not accomplish our life goals, we become dissatisfied with life and develop despair, often leading to depression and hopelessness. The final developmental task is retrospection.”

All three of these giants of psychology contribute to my own understanding of where I find myself today, in my late 60’s. I think these various descriptions of this stage of life all help me understand myself, understand what I am experiencing, what I am going through today. I am experiencing “ego integrity”, “individuation”, and “self-actualization”. And all of this is leading me to more wisdom and insight as I look back on my life so far. I wanted to add these insights before expanding them into my own “wisdom” about my life. What I am experiencing is not in a vacuum. I am totally in line with what other, wiser observers of life have described.


I usually find it fairly easy to reach a state of “meditation”. This has been especially true since my out-of-body experience a few years ago. I can “meditate” in bed in the middle of the night, upon awakening, just before going to sleep. Or I can “meditate” while walking to the Metro, during a lay-over of a few minutes, while a passenger on public transport, many places.

I place the word, “meditate”, in quotes because of course I don’t always know what others mean by the term. I only know what I myself experience. For me it means getting in touch with something deeper in me than what my senses are telling me. It means listening to the still small voice inside. I liken it to what, in my church days, I called “prayer”. I am not always “talking” when I “meditate”. Maybe it’s about 50-50; I do “talk”. But quite often I am actively listening. It usually takes me some effort to maintain a state of “meditation”. I have to work at it.

But I can almost always achieve some level of it. Therefore, when I went several weeks of being unsuccessful at achieving at least some level of “meditation” I was quite dismayed. What had happened? What was going on? What was I doing “wrong”? Where was the Spirit realm when I needed it? Was the euphoria of my soul regression sessions fading? Was I losing it? Was it permanent? Or would it come back?

Then one morning a couple weeks ago, it came back! I awoke early (a common experience) and just lay quietly in bed, going through some relaxation exercises, seeking for some revelation. Quite suddenly it came. I saw a picture of my life’s purpose: I am a bridge! A connection. A link, from one thing to another.

I saw this in four ways: 1) from a relatively old-fashioned way of life, to modern civilization; 2) from a working class perspective, to a professional context; 3) from North American culture, to embracing cultures from other continents; 4) from Church, to seeing life from a more spiritual perspective.

I want to deal with each of these in separate blogs. But enough for this introduction.

And, I do want to say, that it was very heartening to be able to regain the eyes of the heart once again. I rode this high for quite a new days!


Abduction: Human Encounters with Aliens, by John E. Mack, M. D., proved to be an interesting read! I admit, I did not read the entire large volume, but rather picked and chose what I sensed were essential chapters. The first two introduced the subject, the last summed up. In between were 13 case studies at great depth and detail of people who had experienced abductions. I did not read all of these, but enough to understand Dr. Mack’s methods of using hypnosis to help his clients recall their experiences.

The main thing I learned from this quick read-through is the surprising (to me) correlation of abductee’s experiences being very similar to other out-of-body experiences. I have commented elsewhere on the uniformity and consistency of lessons learned through various types of experiences. The abductee experience is one more in this list. Abductees experience the love and care which other-worldly creatures have for us humans. Experiencers sense the peacefulness of the spirit realm, many to the extent of not wanting to return to their human lives on earth. They learn of heaven’s concern with the state of the earth’s climate, both physical and political. And they come away from these experiences with a sense that they are to play a role in ameliorating earth’s troublesome condition.

It is true that many abductees have negative reactions, especially at the beginning. But most have had many experiences, and as they gradually become accustomed to them, they begin to accept and adapt, learning the lessons.

There will be more to come on this topic, as a book which arrived while I was still into Mack’s book, also deals with the topic of abduction. I would also refer the reader to an earlier book I read, Suzy Hansen‘s experience.

Later, The Urban Monk.


I never planned to write a review of the video, Amy, but after watching it last evening and finding myself incredibly moved, I felt I should share a bit of my reactions. This video sheds light on the life of Amy Winehouse. She was a singer/songwriter from London, known most strongly for her jazz and soul singing. Her musical career, from age 18 to when she died at age 27, was phenomenal. She was compared and on stage with other greats, most notably Tony Bennet, Beyonce, and others. Her voice belied her youth. She sounded like a truly soulful 50 or 60 year old, interpreting songs and emotions with great maturity.

Her life, however, was a total mess. She seemed to know this, but was unable to get ahold of stability. Her parents separated when she was 11, the beginning of her pain and trouble. Her mother stated at one point in the video that she was never able to say “No” to her daughter. Later in her life, a bodyguard said that all she really needed was for someone to say “No” to her.

She managed to pull herself together for periods of time, but inevitably would once again descend into substance abuse to the extreme. She was also severely bulimic, a condition which doctors deem to have contributed to her death. Her body was just too severely compromised to be able to withstand the abuse she put it through, and she finally succumbed.

David Joseph, CEO of Universal Music UK said this, “About two years ago we decided to make a movie about her—her career and her life. It’s a very complicated and tender movie. It tackles lots of things about family and media, fame, addiction, but most importantly, it captures the very heart of what she was about, which is an amazing person and a true musical genius.”

Such a talented soul, such a bright and loving person, but what a tragic life, overall.

Judyth Vary Baker 2

Judyth Vary Baker has written a second book about the JFK assassination and the people involved in it. Her first was about her relationship with Lee Harvey Oswald, called, Me and Lee. This book, titled, David Ferrie, is about a very enigmatic character who was part of the circle of people Judyth came in contact with in New Orleans during the summer of 1963. This is the first book to really focus specifically on this mysterious man.

David Ferrie was truly an enigma. A fantastically gifted person, but also quite a scumbag! A homosexual in a time when this was a crime, continually on the edge of the law. He would work for the CIA, for the mafia, wherever he could get paid.

He got involved in the plot to develop a lethal mixture of cancer cells which the CIA hoped to inject into Fidel Castro. The cancer research was what had brought the author to New Orleans in the first place.

The Castro plan unravelled at the last minute. Lee Harvey Oswald was involved in this plot for the main reason that he thought this would save President Kennedy’s life.

The book, David Ferrie, is a fascinating look into the inner workings of one part of the assassination scenario of 1963. It is also an intriguing look into the life of this somewhat pathetic man.

In Ferrie’s last phone conversation with Judyth Vary Baker, shortly after the assassination, he told her she had to keep her head down, stay under the radar, in order to remain alive. Judyth succeeded in doing this, still alive to this day. Just about all the other players in the assassination drama have been killed, most within a short time. David Ferrie himself died suspiciously (like all the others) within five years. Judyth’s name and her involvement with Oswald was, when even acknowledged, totally disparaged as a rather unreliable and flakey witness. Nobody took her story seriously.

Judyth lives in exile, for her own safety. She appears occasionally for interviews. These two books, published in the last five years, have brought her name to greater public awareness. In her seventies now, she wants the truth known. She promised David Ferrie in that last phone call, that she had to remain alive in order to tell Oswald’s two children the truth about their father.

This book, as a follow-up to Me and Lee, is yet another fascinating look at the New Orleans group who ultimately became involved in the assassination plot. Certainly worth a read. But read Me and Lee first, to give a fuller context to David Ferrie.

E. Howard Hunt

Bond of Secrecy, written by his son, Saint John Hunt, is an account of the last few years of E. Howard Hunt’s life, and some of the confessions he made in his last years and days.

E. Howard Hunt, of course, is best known for his involvement in the Watergate break in, which ended up bringing down the presidency of Richard Nixon. But E. Howard was also involved in the JFK assassination. He was a CIA Spy, and apparently quite high up in the ranks.

Hunt did not spill everything about his involvements to his son, but he did disclose a lot. It seemed he wanted to get things off his chest, so to speak. He never expressed remorse, believing till the end that JFK needed to be eliminated, etc.

There is much in this book which sheds light on the sinister activities of the CIA in these two events. For example, Hunt leads the chain of command for the JFK assassination directly up to Lyndon Johnson. No one wants to believe that a vice president, who subsequently became president for five plus years, was fairly directly involved in the assassination of a sitting President of the USA. But there it is. From someone who was certainly in the know. The hand-written note he gave his son had LBJ at the top, with an arrow pointing down to Cord Meyer, another arrow down to David Morales and then down to “French Gunman, Grassy Knoll”. One box off to the side of this sequence of four boxes was an arrow going sideways from Cord Meyer to Bill Harvey.

I think it’s essential to refocus on what this information, that I’ve been providing you–and you alone by the way, consists of. What is important in the story is that we backtrack the chain of command up through Cord Meyer and laying the doings at the doorstep of LBJ.


He in my opinion, had an almost maniacal urge to become President. He regarded JFK, as–as he was in fact, an obstacle to achieving that.


So that would have put LBJ at the head of a long list of people who were waiting for some change in the Executive Branch.

This quote is on page 132 of the book, and is taken from a recording made in January 2004. E. Howard Hunt regarded LBJ as completely unethical, a thug and bully, who obviously would stop at nothing to achieve his ends.

I want to include one more quote from the book. This is taken from a lengthy reciting of an interview with CIA agent Marita Lorenz:

Later Lorenz, prompted by Dunne’s questions, explained that when Sturgis sought to recruit her for yet another CIA project, he told her that she had “missed the really big one” in Dallas. He explained, she said, “We killed the President that day. You could have been a part of it–you know, part of history. You should have stayed. It was safe. Everything was covered in advance. No arrests, no real newspaper investigation. It was all covered. Very professional. (p 159)

Pretty strong evidence to confirm many, many peoples’ convictions that the CIA was behind the assassination. I myself no longer have any doubts whatsoever.