INSIGHT

“For me, reality meant scientific comprehension. I had to draw concrete conclusions from the insights the unconscious had given to me – and the task was to become a life work.”

—C. G. Jung. Memories, Dreams and Reflections.

 

 

 

DREAM: Hiking along the Highway (October 16, 1989. One month after my memory returned.)

I am in a hospital. A woman doctor examines me. She tells me I must have a female examination. I don’t want to. They might find out I have semen in me.

The doctor and I decide to go for a hike. We walk through a field of weeds and into a forest. We pass two hunters; they are carrying a deer they have killed. It is hanging on a pole. 

The doctor and I walk down a road. A police car passes us and I see two children inside.

I say,“We have got to turn around and go back."

She says,“Why?”

I reply, “Because it is going to get too dark.”

We turn around and run back to the car. Dead plants are everywhere. Just before we arrive at the car, I can hear the blood pumping into my heart and I feel very stressed. It feels like we are going to be captured. 

 

 

 

I believe this dream recounts a session with a female hypnotist. She puts me in a trance, and I tell her about two men I had contact with during my abduction. These two men are in many of my dreams. I believe they oversaw the porn business for the mafia. I also tell the doctor about attempts to run away with my friend, a twelve-year boy who appears several times in my dreams. The police picked us up and took us home. All hell broke loose. I recount this story in my book.  

At the hospital I was diagnosed with chlamydia. It isn’t unusual for kidnapped children to contract venereal diseases.

 

Trip to Lima, Peru.

Following my graduation from William Jewell College, Liberty, Missouri, my brother Arthur and I were given the opportunity to visit Lima, Peru. Jane Cunningham, my cousin, also a Jewell graduate, was going home to spend the summer with her family and invited me to go along. Her father, C.B. (Chester Bewick), was the head of the United States satellite tracking station there. 

We flew out of Miami on a DC6 for the fourteen-hour flight. At the one stop-over in Bogota, Columbia, we were advised not to get off the plane. Today, this same flight takes five hours and forty minutes on a jet flying at 600 miles per hour.

Aunt Helen and Uncle C.B. were involved in activities at the American Embassy, in Peru where they hobnobbed with the American Ambassador, Peruvian politicians and wealthy citizens.

I looked for chances to perform in Lima. I had been offered a scholarship to attend graduate school at Kansas University and was excited about my singing. My uncle offered me the choice of  a visit to Machu Picchu or singing  a concert at the American Embassy. I chose the concert. A pianist at the embassy worked with me and I planned a program which included songs from my senior recital at Jewell.

This was to be my first public solo concert. On the day of the event, I made the decision not to eat past breakfast—I didn’t want food to disturb my singing—and I stayed in bed all day. This idea was totally mis-guided as became apparent. 

That evening I wore a beautiful homemade black sheath with rhinestone shoulder straps. A large audience was in attendance. I walked out onto the stage and stood in the curve of the piano. The crowd applauded. The pianist began to play. As I began singing I suddenly became lightheaded, grabbed the piano, and said, “I’m going to faint.” A gasp went up from the audience. My brother, Arthur, who was standing in the wings, ran to catch me. Backstage, I laid on the floor as Aunt Helen and Uncle C.B. came running.

Also scheduled on the program with me was the concert cellist from the Peruvian National Symphony. Uncle C.B. asked her to continue the concert while I recuperated backstage. I was given water and something to eat. Recovered, I returned to the stage to loud clapping and performed spectacularly.

C.B. had arranged to have the concert recorded. When listening to it later we all had a laugh when we heard my voice fade away, the audience gasp, and the mournful sound of a cello. It sounded as though I had died.

 

Lunar halo taken by my friend, Vicki Stallion, on January 26, 2023, in Lima, Peru.   

 

Onward and upward.