The dog barks. It’s time for me to go.
Eleven months later, Edgar Mitchell died. His passing coincided by a matter of hours with the fortieth anniversary of the Apollo 14 Moon landing, the moment Mitchell set the Antares down on the lunar surface just eighty-seven feet from its target. So Ed Mitchell is stardust again, as he had always been.
We are all made of stardust, of elements created in explosions in the depths of space. In the most elemental way, we are all connected. Deep questions go to the root of that connection. The Cold War spawned more scientific inquiry than anyone on Earth could have dreamed of at the time. Carl Jung was right. What is possible, what becomes reality, emerges from the rational assumptions of the age. As new documents become declassified and sources talk about their roles in secret ESP and PK programs past and present, clarity will improve. With advances in new technologies, scientists will begin to see under the surface, learn to ask new questions, and move from hypothesis to general theory.
There is no question that man is extraordinary, each of us a phenomenon.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
In the winter of 2014 I was driving in my car in Los Angeles when I heard a radio interview that I found remarkable for a number of reasons. On the show, a journalist was interviewing a British professor of mathematics who told the following story.
In the summer of 1972 the actor Anthony Hopkins was in London to purchase a copy of the novel The Girl from Petrovka, by author George Feifer. Hopkins was preparing to shoot an American film based on the novel and he wanted to read the book first. None of the London bookstores he went to had a copy in stock, so Hopkins headed home empty-handed. As he waited for a train at the underground station at Leicester Square, Hopkins happened to see a discarded book lying on a bench. When he picked it up, he saw it was a copy of The Girl from Petrovka—the very book he’d been trying to buy. Things got stranger still. Flipping through the novel, Hopkins noticed that someone had made notes in the margins, including how to change certain British spellings to American spellings (i.e., “labour” to “labor”). Months later, during filming, Hopkins met George Feifer and recounted to him the story of finding a unique copy of The Girl from Petrovka on a bench in the subway. Feifer asked to see Hopkins’s copy. Lo and behold, it had belonged to George Feifer. The markings in the margins had been made by Feifer’s own hand. Feifer explained to Hopkins that several years prior, he’d been annotating the book for the forthcoming American publication when a friend borrowed this exact copy, then lost it somewhere around Bayswater, in central London.
So there I was in my car in Los Angeles, listening to the British professor tell this remarkable story. By this time, I had already arrived at my destination, but I found the tale so compelling I’d remained in my car. What unknown force had brought a copy of this book around full circle: away from the author, into the possession of Anthony Hopkins, and back to the author again? I instinctively knew there was no answer, but I wanted to hear what the professor had to say.
The professor, a former president of the Royal Statistical Society of the UK, claimed to have the answer. It was mathematics, he declared. This kind of thing happens all the time. I listened to the professor argue the case that there was absolutely nothing extraordinary about the story he had just told. The events could be explained scientifically by the mathematical law of truly large numbers, as well as the law of combinations, he said, and that people who assign words like miraculous or mysterious to such events were simply wrong—and perhaps intellectually flawed. I turned off the radio, and in the silence of the car, I got the idea for this book.
I wondered: If all improbable, rare, or seemingly miraculous phenomena that occur in this world can and must be explained by science, why did the U.S. government research anomalous mental phenomena for so long; what were the results of these programs and operations; does the work continue today? An initial search of the open-source literature on the government’s work revealed that most nonfiction books written on the subject catered to one side only—they seemed to be either for the so-called paranormal (ESP, PK, etc.) or against it. In researching and reporting this book, I hoped to write about the subject from the perspective of advocates and critics alike.
I’d like to thank all the scientists, psychics, government officials (present and former), academics, soldiers, sailors, mystics, and magicians who spoke to me on the record, and all of those who spoke to me on background and asked not to be named. A particular debt of gratitude goes out to Robert Knight, a photographer and documentary filmmaker who generously made introductions to individuals who might not otherwise have agreed to speak to me.
The assistance of record keepers and librarians continues to remain invaluable to my research and reporting. Thank you Michele Meeks and John Giuffrida, Information and Privacy Coordinators, Central Intelligence Agency; Michael Bigelow, historian, U.S. Army, INSCOM; Jeffrey Flannery, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress; Kathryn Hodson, Special Collections and University Libraries, University of Iowa Libraries; Tamra Temple, archivist; Mallika Yedla, research assistant; and all of the anonymous Freedom of Information Act researchers who scoured databases on my behalf.
I am most grateful to John Parsley, Jim Hornfischer, Steve Younger, Tiffany Ward, Matthew Snyder, Liz Garriga, Nicole Dewey, Michael Noon, Chris Jerome, Allison Warner and Gabriella Mongelli. Thank you to Alice and Tom Soininen for being my unconditionally loving parents, and to Kathleen and Geoffrey Silver, Rio and Frank Morse, Keith Rogers, and Marion Wroldsen. And to my fellow writers from our intrepid group: Kirston Mann, Sabrina Weill, Michelle Fiordaliso, Nicole Lucas Haimes, and Annette Murphy.
The only thing that makes me happier than finishing a book is the daily joy I get from Kevin, Finley, and Jett. You guys are my best friends and demonstrate what I believe to be the ultimate, indisputable supernatural force: love.
Dr. Henry Karel “Andrija” Puharich (standing) in his laboratory at the Round Table Foundation in Maine, circa 1948. Puharich’s quest to locate the unknown energy source he believed powered extrasensory perception caught the attention of the U.S. Defense Department. (Collection of Andrew Puharich)
In the 1950s, at the Army Chemical Center in Edgewood Maryland, Captain Puharich worked on a classified effort to locate drugs that could produce altered states and enhance psychic functioning. (U.S. Army)
In 1972, laser physicist Harold “Hal” Puthoff (left) was hired by the CIA to run a classified research program involving extrasensory perception (ESP) and psychokinesis (PK). One of Puthoff’s first research subjects was a New York City artist named Ingo Swann (right). (Collection of Hal Puthoff)
Scientists Russell Targ and Hal Puthoff outside the Stanford Research Institute in Menlo Park, California, circa 1973. Officially, the program run by Puthoff and Targ was called The Biofield Measurements Program, but in internal memos for CIA Director Richard Helms, analysts called it the Paranormal Perception Research Project. (Collection of Russell Targ)
The CIA’s second psychic research subject was a former Israeli solider named Uri Geller. The results, called the Swann-Geller Phenomena, would set the stage for more than twenty-years of classified government research and operations. (Collection of Uri Geller)
Fascinated by and the mystery of human consciousness and the idea of extremely long distance mental telepathy, Apollo 14 astronaut Edgar Mitchell decided to conduct secret ESP experiments on the way to the Moon. (NASA)
Walking on the Moon, Edgar Mitchell reads a map. Despite his heroics as an astronaut, Mitchell was ridiculed for his beliefs surrounding ESP and the paranormal. (NASA/Alan Shepard)
Edgar Mitchell’s psychic research organization, Mind Science Institute of Los Angeles, was a conduit for CIA funds allotted for researching Uri Geller. (Collection of Uri Geller)
Uri Geller’s first meeting in America, in 1972, was with Wernher von Braun, former chief scientist of the Apollo Moon program. The two men are seen here in von Braun’s office at Fairchild Industries, in Germantown, Maryland. (Collection of Uri Gel
ler)
Uri Geller outside the Stanford Research Institute in Menlo Park, California. (Collection of Uri Geller)
Patrick H. Price (in hat) was a towering figure in the CIA’s psychic research program. He is seen here with Hal Puthoff, laser scientist Russell Targ (in glasses), and CIA analyst Dr. Christopher ‘Kit’ Green (in sunglasses) during an ESP experiment in California. Price died under mysterious circumstances in 1975. (Collection of Russell Targ)
Nuclear weapons engineers with the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory tested Uri Geller’s alleged psychic ability to disrupt the electronics on an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM). The filmed experiment had a bizarre effect on the nuclear scientists and resulted in a CIA investigation. (Collection of Uri Geller)
Decorated World War II hero Ninel “Nina” Kulagina was the Soviet’s most famous psychic. In the 1970s, the U.S. intelligence community expressed alarm over allegations that Kulagina could stop an animal’s beating heart using psychokinesis—the supposed ability to perturb matter with the mind. (Public domain)
The CIA and Defense Department were surprised to learn H. S. Tsien (Qian Xuesen), was behind China’s psychic research program. Tsien, an early American rocket pioneer, switched loyalties, moved to China, and became science advisor to Chairman Mao. Seen here in this World War II–era photograph, Tsien (center) wears a cap displaying a U.S. Army rank of colonel. He believed qi, or vital energy, enhanced psychic functioning. (NARA, public domain)
Dale E. Graff, Chief of the Advanced Missile Systems Forecast Section at Wright Patterson Air Force Base, was responsible for the Defense Department’s entrée into psychic research, circa 1978. Graff would remain a leader in DoD research and operational programs until his retirement in 1993. (Collection of Dale E. Graff)
Second Lieutenant Fred Holmes “Skip” Atwater served as the first operations manager of psychic research at the U.S. Army Intelligence and Security Command (INSCOM), Fort George Meade, Maryland. (Collection of Skip Atwater)
The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) ran operations out of this facility at Arlington Hall Station, located five miles southwest of Washington, DC, in Arlington, Virginia, until 1984. Arlington Hall served as headquarters of U.S. Army Intelligence activities from 1942 until 1989. (U.S. Department of Defense)
Warrant Officer Joe McMoneagle was singled out for the Army’s psychic research program after his “sixth sense” became evident during the Vietnam War. He was given the classified title Remote Viewer 001, a term coined to remove the occult stigma associated with ESP. (Collection of Joe McMoneagle)
The remote-viewing operations building, T-2560, was located on the Fort George Meade Army facility in Fort Meade, Maryland. (Collection of Dale E. Graff)
Former electronic warfare operator Paul H. Smith had no knowledge of psychic functioning before the Army trained him in remote viewing, starting in 1983. (Collection of Paul Smith)
Major General Albert Stubblebine welcomed unconventional beliefs including ESP, PK, altered states, and out of body experiences. As Commanding General of Army INSCOM, Stubblebine oversaw Army’s strategic intelligence forces around the world. (U.S. Army)
Lieutenant Colonel John B. Alexander, a former Green Beret and Special Forces commander in Vietnam with a PhD in the study of death, ran the Advanced Human Technology Office at INSCOM. (Collection of John Alexander)
Physicist Hal Puthoff has worked on psychic research programs for the U.S. military and intelligence communities since 1972. He is seen here (second from left) toasting with Chinese counterparts at a 1982 international psychic research symposium at Cambridge University, England. Also in attendance in Lt. Col John Alexander (third from right). (Collection of John Alexander)
John Alexander and Hal Puthoff discuss advanced physics concepts with Edward Teller, father of the hydrogen bomb, in Los Alamos, New Mexico. (Collection of John Alexander)
The Defense Intelligence Analysis Center, now known as DIA Headquarters, officially became operational on May 23, 1984. It is located on the premises of the Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling military installation in Washington, DC. (U.S. Department of Defense)
Former civilian intelligence analyst Angela Dellafiora became the most valuable psychic asset for the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA). In this never-before-seen photograph, Dellafiora receives an award for her classified work from Dr. Jack Vorona, Chief Scientist for the Directorate of Science and Technology at DIA. (Collection of Angela Dellafiora).
Senator Claiborne Pell was a firm supporter of the DIA’s Psychoenergetics Research Program, the primary component of which would become known as remote viewing. Pell is seen here at the Fort Meade office with Dale Graff, Director of the Advanced Concepts Office for DIA. (Collection of Dale E. Graff)
Psychic and remote viewer Angela Dellafiora poses for a photograph with Senator Claiborne Pell, Chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Foreign Relations. They are standing in front of the file cabinets, which housed classified documents for the remote viewing research and operations conducted at Fort Meade. (Collection of Angela Dellafiora)
In 1990, Paul Smith was transferred out of the remote viewing unit at Fort Meade and sent into the war theater during the Gulf War. He is seen here as part of a helicopter assault unit attached to the 101st Airborne Division, one of the first armored units into Iraq. (Collection of Paul Smith)
In 1992, DIA scientist and Fort Meade branch chief Dale Graff gathered a group of remote viewers for an onsite project at his house in Maryland. Seen here with Graff are (left to right) Nevin Lance, Kenneth Bell, and Joe McMoneagle. (Collection of Dale E. Graff)
As part of his official work for DIA, Dale Graff coordinated U.S. progress on psychic research with Israeli and British intelligence organizations. Seen here on a European Intelligence Exchange trip, Munich, Germany, are (left to right) unnamed German representative; DIA remote viewers Robin Dahlgren, Greg Stewart, and Angela Dellafiora Ford; unnamed DIA Executive Assistant; DIA Division Chief John Berbrich; Dale Graff. (Collection of Dale E. Graff)
Captain David Morehouse, a former Army Ranger commander, would play a significant role in the downfall of the U.S. government’s psychic research programs. In his memoir Morehouse claimed remote viewing made him crazy, and that he believed evil demons possessed him. (U.S. Army)
To the end of his life, Dr. Andrija Puharich maintained a theory that extraterrestrials were trying to send messages to humans through psychic people. He is seen here on the estate of his last benefactor, tobacco heir R. J. Reynolds, where Puharich died in 1995, alone, impoverished and under threat of eviction. (Collection of Andrew Puharich)
When U.S. Army official and NATO Deputy Chief of Staff Brigadier General James L. Dozier was kidnapped by terrorists in Italy, in 1981, remote viewers were assigned to help locate him. Seen here in 2015, Dozier holds a photographs of the Italian paramilitary unit that rescued him. He calls psychic functioning “pure nonsense.” (Author collection)
Chief Scientist Hal Puthoff inside a laboratory at the Institute for Advance Studies, in Austin, Texas, in 2015. Puthoff’s present-day clients include the Department of Defense, NASA, Lockheed Skunk Works, and DARPA’s 100-Year Starship project for interstellar travel capabilities. (Author collection)
Dale Graff continues to research psychic functioning, with a focus on quantum entanglement, or what Einstein famously called “spooky action at a distance.” He is seen here in his home in Pennsylvania in 2015. (Author collection)
After his retirement from CIA, Dr. Christopher “Kit” Green continued to serve as a military and intelligence science advisor to the CIA and the Department of Defense. Since 1985, he has served on more than twenty Defense Department science advisory boards. In the past decade, he has returned to private medical practice where he conducts pro bono work on patients injured by anomalous events. (Collection of Dr. Kit Green, photo by Wayne State School of Medicine/Robert Stewart Photography, Ltd.)
On the streets of Jaffa, Israel, in 2016, Uri Geller bends a pair of hookah ton
gs for two adoring fans. (Author collection)
Outside the residence of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Jerusalem, Israel, Uri Geller bends a spoon for the security team. (Author collection)
At his home in Florida in 2015, Apollo astronaut Edgar Mitchell displays the logs of the ESP tests that he conducted, in secret, on the way to and from the Moon. (Author collection)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ANNIE JACOBSEN is the author of the New York Times bestsellers Area 51 and Operation Paperclip, and the Pulitzer Prize finalist The Pentagon’s Brain. She was a contributing editor at the Los Angeles Times Magazine. A graduate of Princeton University, she lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two sons.
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