This lovely book includes magical incidents in my life beginning with magic radio in hospital stay; darkroom incident – pictures suddenly appear in a canister; other appearances and disappearances. Kinetic energy producing fixed appliances; my experience with manic-depressive behavior; my entire journey for treatment; 11½ years as a reporter/editor, age 32; the healing energy and discovery of certain healing and E.S.P. powers; a psychic helped me, and a Baptist church. Other mental patients hearing voices I believe are truly psychic; they and I have the Holy Ghost and E.S.P.

I have been a newspaper reporter and editor for many years and now am on assistant teacher. I have a degree with honors in business administration. I also worked in public relations and modeling and was in radio. I was an on air psychic and did shows. I have a Silva mind control certificate and Reverend’s license. I have several music awards and a song coming out entitled "Time" as well as many poetry and journalism awards. In high school I was most cooperative, and on the student council.

When everyone had left, I made a mental note. All evil. "No good left in the world." Except maybe my precious mother.

My father had been sleeping for some time. I guess it was about 1 a.m. I sat on my bed, still fully clothed in shorts and a T-shirt. When I tried to lie down, my father started some kind of weird snorting in his sleep. And the truly odd thing was that my mother, in her deep sleep, answered him! It was a snort-and-reply kind of thing. I would never be able to sleep that night. I felt my father’s thoughts. I sent him love but it did no good. I felt he was evil and possessed.

He got up.

Fear came over me and I leapt up.

He walked toward the large knife on the kitchen table. It was just a few inches from me. Did he want to kill me?

Suddenly I shot out of the bedroom and clutched at my father’s arms, which were reaching for the knife.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, my savior and my Lord, I command thee Satan, get thee behind me!" I shouted, not knowing where the words came from.

He tried to overwhelm me with his strength and weight. He was looking dead at the knife. I shouted the same thing over again. I was shouting at the top of my lungs. I picked up a tin coffee pot and threw it at his face. Then I threw a chair. He still came. I let my arms and hands fly about shouting then as I would never stop.

He finally backed off. My mother got up and said, "Oh, Reginald. Just go outside. You’re upsetting her!" (To say the least!) I calmed down a bit. Mother gave Daddy some dimes and Uncle Mal’s phone number. "Call Uncle Mal and tell him to get an ambulance," she said. "Tell him to come over here."

Daddy left, and I must say, he took it very well. "LSD, Dolly Sue," were his words to Mother as he left the cabin in the night.

I searched my mother’s face for signs of good or evil. It was like the TB. First I would see one, then the other. I had to make her see. I wanted to take my own life and return to my creator. I felt if I could get her out of the cabin I would lie down and never wake up. I would just die.

But I loved her and wanted her to come with me if she would. "Mommy, ask Jesus to fill you with the holy spirit!" I shouted. "Get on your knees and pray with me." I told her we would go to die. That it was the only way out. She prayed for a time, and I noticed she was crying. "But I want to raise my grandbabies!" she cried and sobbed.

We started to fight and she was trying to hold me down. I eventually won and pushed her outside the cabin. I locked the door. Finally, I was alone. My arms hurt.

But by that time, the ambulance had arrived along with Uncle Mal.

My father asked my mother which way she should go. "I’m going with you, Reg," she said. I took that to mean she was going the evil way, and not the good way. And that’s how it seemed.