DEVILS, DEMONS, EVIL SPIRITS
“There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils,” warns the widely respected C. L. Lewis. “One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.”
Father Juan Cortes, a psychology professor at Georgetown University, where The Exorcist was filmed, says all cases of possession he’s studied can readily be explained away in modern scientific terms. Today’s science can also explain, according to Cortes, the old Biblical accounts of “casting out devils.”
Others vigorously disagree, such as Reverend Donald Basham, an ordained Disciples of Christ minister. Basham claims a full one-fourth of Jesus Christ’s ministry was solely devoted to casting devils out of possessed people. This man is a long-time counselor. He is able, “by taking authority over a demon,” to achieve quickly what months of counseling failed to accomplish. Taking this authority over a demonic spirit is quite simple. The exorcist must only do it in the name of Jesus,” or “on the blood of Jesus.”
In Acts 16:16, the Apostle Paul was on his way to prayer when he met a psychic, “a certain damsel possessed with a spirit of divination.” Paul couldn’t seem to rid himself of this girl. She continued following him for days.
In Acts 16:18, Paul finally lost patience with the diviner and became quite upset over her persistent antics. He promptly turned on the girl and unhesitatingly cast out the evil spirit of divination, or fortune telling. How did Paul execute this deed? He simply said: “I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And the spirit was expelled, almost instantaneously.
There is no question in the minds of most theologians, but that Jesus Christ believed in demons. In Mark 1:21, Jesus drove evil spirits out of a man in the synagogue of Capernaum. Billy Graham supports the view that Jesus acted as God’s exorcist. He offers Matthew 12:28 as evidence. Here Christ is credited with telling His contemporaries, the religious leaders of the day, “But if I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.”
Philip performed numerous miracles while he was in Samaria. This man of God is known to have exorcised quite a few evil spirits. These “unclean spirits” came forth from the possessed people “crying with a loud voice.” The evil entities are believed to have been both baffled and enraged at being deprived of their dwelling place. “Many taken with palsies, and that were lame, were healed,” by Philip’s elementary act of forcing the demonic spirits to leave their human vessel.
“It is possible to cast demons out of physical bodies,” declared the late Kathryn Kuhlman, noted television evangelist and healer. “Young people have a right to be frightened of the possibility of possession. People are now aware that it’s possible to be possessed and they want to know what they can do to avoid possession by a demon.”
“…demons are a highly organized system of evil spirits hostile to God and men,” charges Associate Evangelist Leighton F. S. Ford, a member of the Billy Graham team since 1955. “Demons are individual personalities, spiritual beings, each with a name, a will, an intelligence, and a personality…. demons are messengers of Satan, wholly given over to evil, seeking to tempt, to pervert, to invade, to despoil men and women.”
There is no longer any doubt about demons in the minds of most of the people involved with the exorcism of young and pitiful Karen Kingston.
A youthful Holiness minister, a dubious Catholic priest, and a skeptical Southern Baptist evangelist formed an unlikely trio of exorcists. They were to temporarily lay aside their theological differences and join hands in mortal combat against the raging forces of Satan. Ten people experienced a horrifying three days in contact with a dangerous group of evil entities.
Ten people came away from the chilling experience with a strengthened faith in God.
Ten people witnessed a miracle.
KAREN KINGSTON’S PLIGHT
Karen Kingston is a teenager. She was born on November 7, 1960. Her father, a drunkard, was brutally murdered by her mother on July 14, 1968. Karen witnessed the crime. The little seven-year old waif was almost immediately placed in a foster home.
Karen’s mother, Cynthia, was sent to prison for a life term. The traumatic shock of witnessing a nine-inch butcher knife plunging in and out of her screaming father was just too much for Karen. It was to dramatically change her life.
Shortly after being warmly welcomed by her new guardians, Karen Kingston began having terrible fits. She stopped learning. She changed from a cute, playful, and smiling little girl to one who was withdrawn and morose. She became more and more animalistic. Her foster parents proved unable to cope with the fast-changing situation. Within six months, on January 4, 1969, they regretfully turned Karen over to State authorities. She was committed to a home for retarded children.
Upon commitment, Karen Kingston, now eight years old, progressively worsened. Within the first twelve months of confinement, by the time she turned nine, Karen had become practically a vegetable. She could not feed or dress herself; she could not go to the bathroom alone; she could not read or write. Karen was almost helpless. According to Dr. Manley Fromme, “Karen required complete custodial care. She needed to be in protective custody. But this is to be expected in any case where the IQ drops to below a 50 rating.”
The ninth year of Karen Kingston’s life was the beginning of a new kind of change–the physical! It all started during the Spring of 1970. Her pretty, long, reddish-brown hair became gritty, coarse, and dull overnight. She began to exude a repulsive body odor, unlike anything experienced previously in the retarded children’s home. She slowly developed a pale, washed out appearance. Pimples erupted on her face. Her body was covered with open, running blemishes. These sores would not heal when medically treated.
The tenth year was another that saw radical changes. On April 11, 1971, Karen’s once bright brown eyes suddenly crossed. They became dull and seemed to be coated with a light gray film. No liveliness was evident in them.
Karen’s gums began to recede. In a short few weeks, her formerly good-looking teeth took on the appearance of being longer and more widely spaced than normal.
The eleventh year in the life of Karen Kingston was one of even more dire physical reversals! In December of 1971, she began to droop. It seemed as if the little girl’s shoulders were being pulled inward and forward as if on a puppet string. By Fall of 1972, she was walking all hunched over.
Karen’s twelfth year was no better. She started to limp. This, combined with the drooping of her body, made the child appear to shuffle around like an ugly old hag. A thorough medical examination on May 15, 1973, disclosed that Karen’s left leg was extremely painful in the knee joint, and that it was stiffening. Later this same leg was found, on October 12, that same year, to be two inches shorter than her right.
By this time, no hope was left for Karen Kingston’s recovery. Medical doctors were at a total loss as to what was wrong with the little girl. They could not seem to stem the tide of Karen’s deterioration. She was a hideous caricature of a young girl. Nothing worked. Psychologists were puzzled. Karen wouldn’t respond to their tried and tested methods of rehabilitation.
Then came Reverend Richard Rogers-a man who sincerely believed that he was a tool of God–an exorcist.
The unique and exciting exorcism of thirteen-year-old Karen Kingston was a tightly organized, well planned, scientific experiment. It took place in a state home for retarded children. Ten people were present at all times throughout the three-day period. Eleven started the ordeal, but one, a nurse injured during the proceedings, dropped by the wayside after the first day of terror.
Reverend Richard Rogers, a penetrating, youthful and vigorous, twenty-eight year old Holiness minister, undertook the actual exorcism. This slender mountain man of God believes his calling in the ministry is solely for the unpleasant task of casting out devils.
Reverend Rogers was assisted by his lovely, ever-smiling wife, Sister Ruth. Both of these devout Christians fasted for one full week before attempting to move against Satan, or to perform the necessary exorcism. (This act, in the minds of many Christians, intensifies the exorcist’s spiritual strength. It is based on St. Matthew 17: 15-22; and St. Mark 3: 17-29.)
The exorcism was observed by, and sometimes assisted by, slightly balding Father John O. Tyson. John is thirty-eight, rather portly, and has been in the Catholic priesthood for over ten years. He had no previous experience in dealing with demonic spirits.
Also on hand both as an observer and to assist, if needed, was beetle-browed, two hundred and ninety-eight pound, Reverend Donald J. Sutter. He is a local area Southern Baptist evangelist and healer of some note.
The exorcism was observed by, under the guidance of, and supervised by Dr. W. Manley Fromme, a clinical psychologist on the institution’s staff; Dr. Clarence T. Emery, psychiatrist; Dr. Julian A. Pershing, a highly reputable East Tennessee general practitioner; and three able nurse therapy assistants, Peggy Welch, Carol Petersen, and Joyce Donaldson.
I was there as an interested spectator and professional handwriting analyst. I initially organized the confrontation by bringing together Reverend Rogers, Father Tyson, and Evangelist Sutter, all close personal friends of mine. The initial approach was made through an aunt, Ellen Simpson. This charming gray-haired lady is a ward supervisor at the retarded children’s home, and she is on Dr. Fromme’s personal staff.
DISCERNING THE POSSESSED CHILD
To begin the unique exorcism experiment, Dr. Manley Fromme, the staff psychologist, selected a group of ten retarded children, twelve to fourteen years old. Each child was not properly responding to conventional treatment. Some of the children, and this is most important, some of the children had absolutely no known physiological reason for their retardation. Others in the group did.
Dr. Fromme did not differentiate between the children with physiological or psychological retardation. The reason: Reverend Richard Rogers, the Holiness preacher, claimed to be blessed with the Scriptural “gift of discernment.” This is one of the nine spiritual gifts mentioned in 1 Corinthians 12:1-10.
In other words, Reverend Richard Rogers claimed that, by his faith in God, he could discern or distinguish which child or children were actually possessed of Satanic spirits, or demons. It was left entirely in his hands at this point. Had Rogers not been accurate, had he mistakenly chosen a physiologically retarded child, Dr. Fromme would have immediately stopped the experiment.
Reverend Richard Rogers had conscientiously fasted for seven full days before beginning the exorcism. He started the exorcism with quiet prayer and slowly placed both hands on each child’s head, one after the other. Richard then stepped back away from the group of children and closed his eyes. .Over and over the whispered name of Karen Kingston could be heard emitting from his barely moving lips. The words were hardly audible.
Dr. Fromme and the others on his staff froze. They were obviously shocked. Rogers had not been given any of the children’s names.
Yet, this man was clearly whispering the name of one of the children, who, according to Fromme, “showed no evident or demonstrable organic brain disease.”
The preacher then opened his eyes. He piercingly scanned the small group. His right arm extended and his hand slowly rose to chest level. Rogers’ index finger pointed directly at one of the little girls in the group. She was thirteen years old–and her name was Karen Kingston.
ARRANGEMENTS FOR HANDWRITING ANALYSIS
The unique spiritual battle portrayed in The Devil and Karen Kingston took place in East Tennessee, on April 13, 14, and 15, 1974.
One unusual aspect of this exorcism is with regard to the handwriting of thirteen year old Karen Kingston. Karen was retarded. Karen was unable to write. She had never learned how. And she did not even have the proper muscular control to do so.
Theoretically, according to ministers, theologians, and missionaries who have had much experience in this field, demonic entities have individual personalities. When confronted by a man or woman of God who is acting as an exorcist, the Satanic entity can, and does, completely take over the possessed individual’s personality.
When called forth in the name of Jesus Christ, the demon does react and is able to exert its supernatural power. The possessed person, for that time period (until the demon is either expelled or it withdraws), loses his or her own identity and becomes totally under subjection to the demon in thoughts, words, and physical mannerisms.
Handwriting is “brain-writing” say all the authorities that work in the fields of graphology and graphonalysis. George D. Steinert, widely read psychologist, graphoanalyst, and author, states that “all systems of handwriting analysis are based on the assumption that as a brain-controlled, expressive body movement, handwriting reflects in some way the dynamics of the human mind; that is, personality.” Gordon W. Allport, noted psychologist, declares, “There is a strong case to be made for handwriting analysis. It is … not merely handwriting, but also ‘brainwriting’.
Therefore, even though Karen Kingston was unable to write because of her advanced state of retardation, logic made me wonder if, while under the domination of a supernatural force during an exorcism ritual, Karen could in fact be made to write. It would, theoretically, be the alleged Satanic entity’s personality in complete control of the little girl’s mind, using her hands as its vehicle to produce readable script.
My theory was presented to a great number of exorcists and handwriting experts around the world. All agreed that as a hypothesis, Karen should, under these conditions, be able to write legibly, when the alleged spirit was commanded to perform this task in the name of Jesus Christ. Such an act, according to experienced exorcists, would be a simple thing for a demonic force to accomplish.
This is especially true since all such spiritual beings are credited with having superior intelligence and supernatural powers which are incomprehensible to mankind: levitation at will; making its host speak with male and female voices, defecate, vomit, convulse, blister, swell, blaspheme, speak fluently in Aramaic, Greek, German, Latin, etc.; and exhibit uncommon violence.
Therefore when the exorcism was initially organized, I arranged with the exorcist, Reverend Richard Rogers, to command the supposedly demonic entities to write at some point during the ordeal. Pens, pencils, and a variety of paper were placed within easy reach of the little girl. Allowing her to choose both the paper and the writing instrument was done at the request of the psychologist, Dr. Manley Fromme. He was more than a little interested in observing which pen or pencil and which type of paper Karen would select if and when her personality changed while under supposed demonic control.
As each possessing spirit revealed itself, Reverend Richard Rogers, the exorcist, would command it to write something. Thirteen separate entities were found to be residing in Karen. Eight of the spiritual forces responded by actually writing! The handwriting changed dramatically with each new manifestation of a demon. Of the other five Satanic soldiers:
*One would agree only to draw pictures.
*One merely printed.
*One printed-but more artistically.
*One vehemently refused to write anything.
*One said it couldn’t write. It had never bothered to learn how. It couldn’t even be made to draw pictures.
The case regarding the exorcism of Karen Kingston was first publicly revealed on Friday, July 26, 1974, at the American Handwriting Analysis Foundation’s annual convention in San Jose, California. Later, in July of 1975, it was brought to the attention of various outstanding members of the International Graphoanalysis Society during their 1975 Congress held in Chicago, Illinois; and again in September, 1975, at an IGAS State Chapter seminar in Lexington, Kentucky.
As a result, Mr. George D. Steinert, California psychologist and one of the nation’s top graphoanalysts; and the Grapho Selection Institute, a personnel-selection firm based in the Golden State, generously volunteered to undertake two independent special scientific study projects on the widely varying handwriting style of Karen Kingston. Their conclusions appear as appendixes to this book.
The First Day Saturday: 13 April 1974 A tenth-century Celtic cross, in the decoration on one of its faces, dramatizes David’s casting out an evil spirit by the power of music. This cross, stylistically a product of the Irish school of cruciform art, was originally erected near Dupplin Castle, Scotland, but now reposes in a museum at Edinburgh.
The lowest panel shown presents a melody whose tones are indicated by the intersections of the winding-band ornament. Above this ‘design music’ is a depiction of David playing the harp; and, above David, a picture of the evil spirit which David cast out with the help of the melody. (From the chapter “Old Celtic Design Music,” page 73, in James Travis, Miscellanea Musica Celtica; published by The Institute of Mediaeval Music, New York, 1968.)
WILLIAMS-THE FIRST DEMON
And they were all amazed, insomuch that they questioned among themselves, saying, What thing is this? What new doctrine is this? For with authority commandeth he even the unclean spirits, and they do obey him.
St. Mark, 1:27, Saturday, 13 April 1974, 7:00 a.m. Exorcism Time: 1 hr. 45 min.
The psychologist, psychiatrist, medical doctor, nurses, and myself were not ready to blindly accept the retardation of Karen Kingston as being the end result of evil spirit possession. Even Father Tyson was extremely uncertain, but willing to see it through. Sutter, the Baptist evangelist, seemed more able to accept demon possession as a good possibility in Karen’s particular case. Sister Ruth stood quietly confident next to her undoubting husband, Richard Rogers, the Holiness pastor. He was convinced that God had led him to take on this important mission. Rogers was eager to begin the exorcism, to initiate what he believed would be Karen’s deliverance.
Richard started out rather simply. He put his left hand on Karen’s head and read Luke 4:18: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.”
He continued by reading Luke 4:31-37; Matthew 12:43-45; Mark 7:25-30; John 8:36; Acts 16:16-18; Philippians 2:3-11; James 4:7-8; 1 Peter 3:22; and Revelation 12:7-10. Upon completion of his Scriptural readings, Reverend Rogers closed his well worn Bible and lightly rested both hands on Karen’s head. He was now fully prepared for a direct confrontation with Satan’s demonic forces. Rogers felt supremely confident of his God-given powers. He began to pray quietly for Karen’s deliverance. Then he loudly addressed the spirits of darkness: “Come out of this innocent child! Come out of her in the name of Jesus Christ!”
At that moment, a mocking voice responded, “This girl is mine! Go away! Go away! She belongs only to me! Leave us alone!”
I quickly glanced around at the others in the room. The immediate reaction was one of stunned silence! They were dumb with shock. They looked at each other with questioning eyes. Everyone was obviously puzzled, and caught completely off guard–everyone, that is, except Reverend Rogers and his wife, Sister Ruth. Rogers didn’t waste time. He immediately began to converse with the spirit, “What is your name, you creature of death and destruction?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything! You can’t make me tell you anything!” responded the deep male voice. And then more sarcastically, “You are too weak to make me do anything! I own this girl! She is mine! Only mine!”
My skin crawled as I carefully observed the little girl, Karen. Surely it wasn’t her voice? Yet her lips were moving, and the harsh words spewed forth from her mouth. Karen’s crossed-eyes glared back in defiance at Reverend Rogers. They narrowed to hate-filled slits. Her mouth twisted into a sneer. Her stomach rumbled, and a series of explosive belches came forth. A foul odor of rotting flesh permeated the air around us. It was almost impossible to catch a deep breath.
Father John O. Tyson, now pale and shaking, had a medallion of the Sacred Heart of Jesus clasped tightly in his right hand. He began softly murmuring the Lord’s Prayer in Latin: “Pater Noster, qui es in coelis: Sanctificetur nomen tuum: Adveniat regnum tuum: Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in coelo, et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis …”
The stench became unbearable. Father Tyson continued to recite his prayer, Joyce Donaldson, one of the pretty young therapy nurses, was ashen and looked as if she were going to vomit. Peggy Welch and Carol Petersen, the other nurses, simply cried. Their arms encircled Joyce in a futile gesture of consolation and protectiveness. There was an oppressive air of fear and helplessness in the room. The feeling of evil was all encompassing and smothering.
Reverend Rogers ignored the malevolent being’s mocking words and obscene gesticulations. He appeared oblivious to the terrible smells flowing from Karen. “Take one of those pens or pencils and write something for me! I command you in Jesus’ name, to write for me!”
“Go straight to Hell, preacher,” snarled the spirit, who followed this with a fit of mocking laughter, “Why don’t you go straight to Hell! You need not bother me, you no-good bastard! Leave me alone, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Then turning to Father Tyson, Karen offensively raised her middle finger directly at him. Her mouth moved, the voice of the evil entity radically changed and dripped with sarcasm: “Oremus! Oremus! Oremus!”
Father Tyson was thoroughly rocked by these words. Rogers and the others were puzzled. The priest looked around the room and said, “He’s speaking fluent Latin! He seems to be making fun of us. He keeps repeating, ‘Let us pray! Let us pray! Let us pray!’” Karen smirked and shifted her crossed-eyes away from Tyson. She glared at each of us in turn. The masculine voice, now even more sinister, again came forth from her fluttering lips. “Laus tibi (Praise be to Thee), Gloria tibi (Glory be to Thee), Sursum corda (Lift up your hearts).”
Father Tyson groped for his crucifix. This crucifix was special to him, a memento that had a great deal of sentimental value. He had never used it in church services. Therefore, until this very moment, it had remained hanging on one wall of his bedroom. After he had been invited to witness this exorcism, Tyson had strongly felt, for some inexplicable reason, that he must take the crucifix with him. It was to be carried merely as an outward expression of his faith, certainly not to be used in casting out demons.
The people of his parish had given Father Tyson the crucifix. He momentarily flashed back and wondered what they would think if they knew how it was about to be used. It was a gift commemorating his recent trip to Rome in celebration of his tenth year in the priesthood. Upon his arrival in Rome, Tyson received a rare privilege and gained an audience with the Pope, an audience during which the Pontiff blessed the sacred object.
Father Tyson held his crucifix firmly in both hands. He inched toward Karen and reached out to her. The Lord’s Prayer flowed from his lips, this time much louder and clearer than before. Karen recoiled as if the crucifix were a firebrand! She began to squirm and protectively bury her face in her hands. The voice from within was a fearful whimper, “Why do you bother me? Why do you try to torment me so? What do you want of me? Who are you?”
Rogers ignored the pleadings. He again went on the offensive. “On the blood of Jesus Christ, I order you to write!” There was no response. “Obey my command!” ordered Rogers, “In Jesus’ name!” The spirit remained silent.
“Can’t you write? What’s the matter? Can’t you write?” taunted Rogers. He was changing his tack at this point and began making fun of the spirit. “You can’t even write, can you? Are you too stupid to write anything for me!”
“Oh, yes, I certainly can write if I wish to. I am a genius,” responded the entity. His voice was now confident. “I am a scientific genius! Even Albert Einstein was a dimwit compared to me! I could have taught him much more than he ever knew! But poor old Albert, he wouldn’t cooperate with me. Damn him anyway!”
“Prove to me that you’re a genius,” Rogers challenged. “I don’t believe you!”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you, you bastard,” sneered the spirit. “You are an undeserving bastard–and you are full of shit, besides!”
“You really can’t write, can you?” replied Rogers as he calmly ignored the spirit’s insults. His voice was derisive. “You are much too stupid to write!”
There was no comment from the evil entity. Karen grabbed for one of the ballpoint pens and began to push it smoothly across the paper. She was actually writing! She continued for a full three minutes. The room was silent. We were all aware of the fact that little Karen had apparently been incapable of writing! Yet, letters and words were being clearly formed on the paper. Rogers waited patiently until the pen stopped moving.
“There, you bastard!” The masculine voice was now a harsh shout as Karen threw the pen back down on the table. “So I can’t write, huh! Just what do think this is?”
Reverend Rogers disregarded the spirit’s ire. He calmly picked up the sheet of paper and glanced at it, showing no surprise. Rogers immediately handed the handwriting specimen to me. Drs. Fromme, Emery, and Pershing, and the rest of the people in the room gathered around to look. There were gasps of amazement. No vocal comment was necessary. Their facial expressions told the entire story. Everyone was astounded! Poor little retarded Karen Kingston could not write! Yet …
Reverend Rogers didn’t want to lose his momentum. He promptly began conversing with the spirit again. He explained the Scriptures to it, emphasizing that he had God’s power and blessing to overcome the Devil. Rogers told the demon that he had the full authority of Jesus, and that he would eventually be successful in casting him out of Karen.
“Okay, okay,” snarled the evil entity, “so you’ve got the power. So what! What have I done to you?”
“You don’t even know your own name,” shouted Rogers. “You can’t tell me your name!”
“My name is Williams,” answered the spirit meekly. “Everyone in here knows that. Even you should know who I am. I am really quite active, you know. You simply haven’t been able to recognize me before today.”
The demonic force refused to say any more and started trying to withdraw. Karen crossed her arms defensively and stared at the door. She leaned back in her chair and seemed to relax.
Rogers commanded firmly, “I forbid you to stay in this child’s body! I order you, on the blood of Jesus Christ, to come forth now!”
“No! Leave me alone!” the demon replied emphatically. He no longer appeared to be fearful of the wiry minister.
“How long have you been inside this little girl?”
Karen shrugged, and the demon spoke. “Quite a long time.”
Rogers continued his relentless prodding. “Are there others in there with you?”
“Oh, yes, there are lots of us in here,” the demon answered nonchalantly. “We kind of like it.”
“Are you as comfortable now as you were before I found out about you?”
“It’s not really all that bad.” Another shrug. “Are you going to come out of her?”
A long silence.
“Are you going to come out of her for me?”
There was another long hesitation and then a meek, “No.” The demon now stopped responding to Reverend Rogers. It seemed to be trying to retreat again, to get away from the danger it sensed. Karen started to lightly gurgle. Once more the room filled with a stench of rotting flesh. The burping became more violent, loud and staccato like firecrackers on the Fourth of July. But Rogers ignored it all. He felt the demon was trying to deceive him into thinking it had left Karen.
Sister Ruth stepped forward and stood next to her husband. She whispered, “I want to pray with you. Let’s go to the Lord together now.”
Standing there, both Rogers and his wife laid their hands upon Karen’s head. They pleaded in unison for assistance from God. Ruth wept softly as she beseeched her Lord to take action. Then she began to rebuke Williams herself. Strength flowed into her as she felt touched by God’s spirit. Richard followed this by coming against the demon, too. He sternly commanded Williams to come out. Yet there was no response from within Karen. She sat passively. “Leave this girl in the name of the Lord!”
“On the blood of Jesus Christ! On the blood of Jesus Christ!” Sister Ruth was now kneeling in front of Karen. Tears were coursing down her cheeks. “Oh, God, in the name of Jesus, deliver this innocent child!”
“Where will I go?” cried Williams, the demon. The response instantaneous and his voice was tinged with fear. “Where will I go? What am I to do? How can you make me leave?”
“Go to Hell! Your place is in Hell! You must go there!” interjected the Catholic priest. “I order you to come out of her. I command you to go back from where you came–to Hell!”
“You don’t have the authority to make me obey as you command,” exclaimed Williams. “Even your God’s son could not do as you have ordered!”
Rogers knew that the well-meaning priest had made a common mistake. Nowhere in the Scriptures did Jesus cast the demons into Hell. He recalled the verses, “When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest” (Matthew 12:43; Luke 11:24). Rogers was aware of only three Biblical examples that clearly noted what had happened to exorcised spirits. They were cast into swine (Matthew 8: 28-32; Mark 5:1-13; Luke 8:26-33). In all other cases cited, Jesus merely cast the evil forces out of the possessed person. No other clues were given as to where these entities finally went.
Reverend Rogers felt it best not to bring the error to Tyson’s attention at this time. He didn’t wish to lose his upper hand with the demon. “In the name of Jesus, on His blood, demon come forth! Leave! Leave!”
“I’ll come, but I’ll kill this bitch first,” screamed the demon. He was on the defensive and spewing hatred. I’ll kill this dirty bitch! You’ll be sorry for this! I’ll kill her!”
A faint tinge of bluish-green color appeared to emit from Karen. It completely enveloped her like a cloud. Then there was no longer any doubt about it-the aquamarine haze slowly changed to a dynamic red-orange. There was a brilliant flash of blinding light.
Karen tensed, screamed, and catapulted from her chair. Sister Ruth was bowled over from the impact of the flying body. She crawled over to the forlorn little girl who now lay shaking on the carpeted floor. Karen moaned and foamed at the mouth. She gagged and choked.
The air in the room suddenly felt dry and extremely hot. A desert-like breeze rushed by us. It was almost impossible to breathe. Then, just as suddenly, the stench was gone. Karen let loose with another scream, this time more shrilly, then became rigid and still. Not a sound came from her mouth. The foaming stopped. She was motionless.
Rogers ran over to help Sister Ruth, dropped to his knees, and placed both hands on Karen’s head. Ruth’s hands were already firmly planted on Karen’s abdominal area. They whispered in unison, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
Father Tyson chanted softly, over and over and over, “Domine, exaudi orationem meam (O Lord, hear my prayer).”
“Lord have mercy on us. Praise Jesus,” added Reverend Sutter. He kept repeating, “Praise Jesus, praise Jesus.”
Williams argued, cried out, and complained as he came forth with a roar like a wounded bull. The sound was deafening. And then he left on Rogers’ command to return to where he had originally come from. Karen ceased to quiver. The room was quiet. There was no movement, no conversation.
Reverend Rogers and Sister Ruth gently picked Karen up and helped her back onto her chair. No one else made any effort to assist them. We were all too shocked to think clearly. Sister Ruth stood next to the little girl and began talking softly to her. Karen’s wild appearance had radically changed to a look of peace and calm. Was it all over?
“Richard! Oh, my God! Richard!” Sister Ruth had been lightly stroking Karen’s hair. She suddenly stiffened.
Reverend Rogers quickly joined his wife. His eyes followed hers to Karen’s head. He reached out and touched. His voice rose to an excited pitch, “Her hair! Her hair! It’s changed! Hallelujah to God! It’s changed!”
Everyone in the room was jolted back into reality. We all hastily crowded around Karen and took turns feeling her hair.
Dr. Julian A. Pershing fingered it thoughtfully. He shook his head in disbelief. “It simply can’t be! It’s psychologically impossible. It simply can’t be!”
Reverend Donald J. Sutter was next to touch. He could only gasp, over and over, “Praise the Lord! It’s a miracle! Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord!”
Father John O. Tyson repeatedly crossed himself and murmured, “Gratias agamus Domino Deo nostro (Let us give thanks to the Lord our God).”
Dr. Fromme, the psychologist, and Dr. Emery, the psychiatrist, looked at each other strangely. Both men were visibly shaken. No audible comment passed between them.
The three therapy nurses were all shedding tears of happiness. Or was it relief?
Indeed Karen Kingston’s hair had changed! Dramatically! From coarse, dull, and stringy–to shiny, soft, and healthy looking! It was, as Reverend Sutter had expressed, “a miracle!” It was now 8:45 am. A rest period was in order.
LINUS-THE SECOND DEMON
….they brought unto him many that were possessed with devils: and he cast out the spirits with his word, and healed all that were sick: St. Matthew, 8;16
Saturday, 13 April 1974, 9:00 a.m. Exorcism Time: 2 hrs., 10 min.
During the break, Father Tyson indicated that he wished to take a more active part in the exorcisms. He had now seen, heard, and felt what he believed to be the presence of a Satanic emissary. Tyson asked Reverend Rogers if he might initiate the next session with a special Catholic prayer. Rogers did not object. The prayer Father Tyson wanted to use was long ago composed by Pope Leo XIII. It was once said after Low Mass in Catholic churches throughout the world.
We all returned to the room. Father Tyson cautiously approached Karen. He placed his left hand on her head, and his right hand held his crucifix. He began: “Saint Michael, the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into Hell Satan and the other evil spirits who prowl about the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.”
Another unfamiliar voice erupted from little Karen’s barely moving lips. All six feet, two inches of Father Tyson’s two hundred and thirty-seven-pound frame recoiled as if struck! Rogers quickly stepped in front of the girl.
The voice was deep, male, and the tone was whiney. “Karen’s no fun to be with anymore! We don’t like what you are doing to her! Why can’t you leave us be! Why are you so persistent in your provocations? Let us alone!” At that instant a vase mysteriously sailed across the room and landed in Father Tyson’s arms. Guttural laughter came from deep within Karen. The vase began vibrating.
Tyson pushed it away from him and moved back. But the vase, now hovering in mid-air, did not fall to the floor. Defying all natural gravitational laws, it began to spin. It slowly moved in a circular pattern around the room. Then, suddenly the vase sailed toward the opposite wall and was dashed to pieces on impact. More unholy twitters were heard coming from Karen’s mouth.
“Who are you?” asked Rogers.
There was no response.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
“Tell me your name. I would like you to tell me who you are. We would all like to know your name.”
“No!” the voice said with a great deal of emphasis.
“Well, then, how about writing something for me?”
“Write what? What do you want me to write?” replied the spirit. “Be more specific, my friend.”
“Write anything you wish,” said Rogers.
“I will if you’ll promise to leave me alone!” Without further comment the demonic entity proceeded to write:
Reverend Rogers again started talking to it. “You know that you must eventually come out of this girl. Why don’t you just leave quietly! You know that Jesus can make you come out! You do realize this, do you not?”
“Yes, I know,” it responded in a frightened voice. It then began to plead, “But this is my house! I want to stay in here! I have no other place to go. Please leave me alone.”
“You must, by the authority of Jesus Christ, leave her!” charged Rogers more sternly. “What is your name? (Pause) What is your name?”
“Why do you want to bother me?” whined the demon. “I’m not hurting her. Where will I go?” Karen started to whimper. Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down both cheeks.
Rogers ignored the pleadings. He shouted, “I command you, by the blood of Jesus Christ—to tell me your name!”
Then with a sneer, the evil spirit responded, “I won’t, I won’t, and you can’t make me! You are powerless!”
“In Jesus name-Jesus-Jesus-Jesus-tell me who you are! Reveal your identity!”
“I am Linus.” The entity’s voice was more subdued.
Reverend Rogers was scanning the handwriting specimen. He asked, “Who is Peggy? Is Peggy a friend of yours? Who is this Peggy you mention in your writing?”
“Peggy? Why the black, kinky-haired nurse, damn it!” replied Linus in a scornful tone. “You know God damned well who I’m referring to! You can’t be that stupid! Or can you? She’s the one with those beautiful big black bouncy tits and that sexy black ass. The nigger, God damn it!”
Karen’s finger rose and pointed at one of the attending nurses. We all glanced toward Peggy. She was mortified, and terribly shaken by the incident.
“I know all about Peggy,” whispered Linus. His voice exuded suggestiveness. “Do you know all about Peggy? I do! Boy, is she ever stacked! Do you know all the things Peggy did before she was married? I can tell you plenty of weird things about this young woman.
She has quite a sexual track record. Would you like to know how many white men she went to bed with before she finally married that black slob of a husband? Did you know about that, preacher boy? Tell me! Listen to this, when Peggy gives head, she… .”
“We don’t want to hear any of your lies about Peggy or anyone else,” chided Rogers. “We only want to know everything about you! Tell us about yourself, Linus!”
“No!” Linus refused, “but I’ll tell you about her if you promise to leave me alone. Promise?”
“All right,” answered Rogers, “I’ll leave you alone for the time being, but I’m not interested in hearing your fabrications about Peggy. I’ll leave you alone. Just tell me all about you.”
After a long pause, Linus finally charged, “You are the one who is lying! You can’t fool me!” He became unresponsive and refused any further communication with Rogers.
A picture hanging on one wall fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Another frame dropped heavily, breaking the glass. The couch at the far end of the room began to move. A clump, clump, clump, could be heard as it bounced straight up and down on the floor. Then it became still.
Three large cushions rose and drifted back and forth in the air as if being jostled by a light breeze. They, too, then floated down to the carpet and became inanimate.
Karen sat quietly in her chair, still totally unresponsive. Suddenly, she looked up at Rogers. Her crossed eyes dilated. The demon spoke. “So you think you’ve got power, huh? Well, what did you think of all that? You haven’t seen anything yet, buster! Now watch this!”
Karen’s skin took on a pinkish hue. It finally turned fiery red, and blisters rose all over her arms, legs, and face. They varied in size from that of a pinhead, to that of a quarter.
Father Tyson had brought with him a small vial of Holy Water. He moved in closer and sprinkled some of it on Karen’s forehead. An almost suffocating blast of heat radiated from the spot where the forlorn little girl sat. Yet the child showed no signs of perspiring.
Everyone else in the sweltering room was soon soaking wet. We all had rivulets of moisture pouring freely down our faces and bodies. The Holy Water: burst into tiny puffs of steam, apparently before it ever touched Karen. It sizzled and disappeared in thin air.
Dr. Julian Pershing stepped in and stuck the heat-activated probe of his battery-operated Ivac thermometer in Karen’s mouth. It was one of those relatively new electronic thermometers with which accurate temperature readings can be obtained in fifteen seconds. He then felt her forehead, arms, and legs. Pershing mumbled as he checked the digital readout: “This thing must not be working properly.
It’s registering only 94.5. That’s well below the norm!” Again the Ivac thermometer probe was inserted in Karen’s mouth. The reading remained steadily at 94.5.
Dr. Pershing later confided: “Normal temperature is usually about 98.6. this girl was registering 94.5. She should have been thoroughly chilled and shivering at this point. Anything below 97.6 is considered to be a low temperature.
But my God, she was bright red, and felt feverish. I’d estimate that we should have obtained a reading of at least 107 by the way she looked and felt. But a temperature that high, sustained for thirty minutes, would have killed her, or at least would result in serious brain damage.” Dr. Pershing later attempted more temperature checks at various intervals during each subsequent exorcism, for the three-day period. Karen’s temperature never varied as much as one degree.
Now Linus began to talk to Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Reverend Sutter, the Baptist. He asked: “Well, all of you holier than thou, so-called Christians, how about it? What do you think of this? Can your God fight and defeat one so powerful as my master?” Cruel laughter filled the room.
At this point, Dr. Pershing took out his sphygmomanometer. He had decided to try and take Karen’s blood pressure since she was momentarily quiet, and the entire operation would take only thirty seconds. With assistance from the nurses, Pershing got the cuff tightly wrapped around Karen’s upper arm.
He squeezed the rubber bulb a few times to pump up the cuff, and then took a reading. It was 80/65. Pershing stepped back, scratched his head, and again mumbled under his breath. Again he pumped the bulb. Another reading was taken. It was 80/65. Pershing performed the entire operation a third time, and then a fourth. Karen’s blood pressure remained the same.
Normal blood pressure for a girl Karen’s size and age, according to Dr. Pershing, should be approximately 100/66. But Karen’s appearance was certainly not indicative of a normal state. He said: “By all medical standards, Karen’s blood pressure should have registered a minimum of 200/100, a reading which I found to occur rather frequently in overweight patients. In his estimation, Karen’s blood pressure could have been as high as 300/180, which would accompany what appeared to be a highly excited condition.
A blood pressure this high “would be indicative of a stroke, or rather precipitate a stroke.” Yet, mysteriously enough, the result was repeatedly 80/65, a reading well below what Pershing considered to be the norm. Dr. Pershing later attempted more blood pressure checks at various intervals during each subsequent exorcism, for the three-day period. Karen’s blood pressure never changed.
Father Tyson came closer, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and began to read from them. It was a copy of His Holiness, Pope Leo XIII’s prayer for use in performing what the Catholic church terms a “simple exorcism to curb the power of the devil and prevent him from doing harm.” Tyson began: “Glorious Prince of the Celestial Host, St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in the conflict …” More demonic chuckles interrupted Father Tyson’s reading. He tried to continue, “… which we have to sustain against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in …”
Smoke began to rise slowly at first from the papers in his hands. A heavy black haze blanketed Tyson’s head and face. He gasped for air, choked, and backed away. The exorcism prayer fell from his hands. It burst into flames, burned brightly, then went out. All that remained was a small pile of unrecognizable soot and ashes.
“That ridiculous bullshit won’t work on me!” retorted Linus. He was in the midst of yet another laughing jag. “You should know better! Those are just fancy words! Meaningless vulgarities! Don’t they teach you anything in those seminaries? Take another good look on the floor! Look, God damn it!”
At first Tyson was afraid to glance down. He stood shaking, staring blankly into space. Then he did look down as Linus had ordered. The demon continued, “See what I think of your god-damned trivial speech! It’s worthless! Garbage! Scum! It does absolutely nothing to me, you black-frocked, feeble-minded moron! Only a mentally defective fool would believe in that kind of trash!”
“Okay, you’ve had your fun for today. You’ve made your point,” interrupted Rogers.
Karen tensed. It was as if the demon knew what was coming next. Rogers motioned for the others to join him. Each placed a hand on Karen’s head. Her skin was still beet-red, but it now felt cold and clammy. Karen flinched, but did not struggle. Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Donald Sutter all began: “In Jesus name, come out! On the blood of Jesus, depart!” The chant continued unceasingly for ten minutes.
“I command you, by the power vested in me by Jesus Christ, to come forth this instant!” shouted Rogers. The others gripped Karen’s head with both hands while Rogers held his open Bible to her. There was no response. There was no movement. Rogers repeated the order, over and over and over.
Finally, on the seventh such command, the spirit named Linus started to protest and cry out! Pure hatred erupted from Karen’s mouth. Curses filled the air! Guttural sounds accompanied the profanities. Karen shook violently for a moment, then foamed at the mouth. She began to gag. Then all was serene.
Without warning, Karen began bouncing up and down in her chair, like a puppet on a string. The bright red cast could be seen slowly leaving her face and body. The voice from within now started pleading. He spoke in fearful tones. “I’m going! I’m going! You’re hurting me! It’s killing me! The pain is unbearable! Please, please, please. Let me get out of here! Let me alone! Oh, shit! It hurts!”
It all happened quickly, within a matter of seconds. Linus had left. The horror was finally over. Not a sound could be heard in the room. Karen’s natural coloring returned. The blisters had miraculously disappeared, as if they had not ever been there. There was not a thread of evidence left that the child’s flesh had nearly been scorched.
But even more surprisingly, her unsightly complexion had cleared. There were no more pimples. All signs of her pockmarks were gone. The ugly open, running sores had not only been healed instantaneously–they had left no scars in their wake!
It was now 11:10 am. We all took a break for lunch, though none of us had any interest in food.
ELIZABETH-THE THIRD DEMON
And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature…. And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils. St. Mark, 16:15,17
Saturday, 13 April 1974, 12:40 p.m. Exorcism Time: 3 hrs., 18 min.
Karen started to tremble as soon as Reverend Richard Rogers began to resume prayer for her deliverance. Her face became horribly distorted and she was severely nauseated. A new voice was heard. Again it was not really Karen’s. This time it was low and sultry but distinctly feminine. The demon begged the pastor, “Please stop. Please stop, I’m going to puke all over the place. You’re making me sick.”
Rogers continued his prayers, much more loudly than before. He placed one hand on Karen’s head and shoved his open Bible right up under her nose. Sickly green spittle foamed and bubbled from between her lips. She spat at him. A large blob of the steaming, stinking goo fell on the Bible. It reeked of putrid flesh. The unidentified demon cursed him. Rogers remained cool. He ignored Karen’s actions and went right on praising God for His presence and thanking Him for His power over all evil. He then rebuked the spirit in Jesus’ name.
A beautiful rendition of “Onward Christian Soldiers” came from Karen’s unmoving mouth. At first it was soft, then more enthusiastic, and finally a raucous version of the song, so loud it was deafening. We had to cover our ears.
“Be still in the name of Jesus!” commanded Rogers. The demon in Karen immediately ceased singing.
Rogers again rebuked the demon. He ordered, “Depart from this helpless youngster, now!”
And again the words of “Onward Christian Soldiers” filled the room. This time it was more subdued. Then all was abruptly silent. The spirit now began mocking Rogers. “You leave! You puny little runt! You have no business interfering here! I command you, in my master’s name, to leave me alone!”
The evil entity interrupted its own tirade with derisive snickers. It now began to rattle off scriptural passages. It seemed to delight in ignoring the minister’s pleas. It mimicked Mark 16: 15-17: “And my Lord and Master, Lucifer, said unto me, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel of Hell to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized in my holy fire shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be put to death, shall be murdered, by my followers.
“And this sign shall follow them that believe in the name and in the powers of Beelzebub, the prince of the devils: In my name shall they cast out Jesus. Yes! In the name of the Great Red Dragon, the God of this World, the Angel of Light–In the name of Satan, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, shall believers cast out Jesus!”
Suddenly the voice ceased to paraphrase St. Mark’s words. Karen grabbed one of the pens and began to write. As she wrote, the same voice, now much more emphatic than before, said: “I am your God! You must worship only me!”
Karen continued to write as the evil power persisted in spouting off scripture. It asked, “Would I talk of such things, would I have such extensive knowledge, were I not good and were I not holy? Would I dare if I were not as good and as holy as you claim to be?”
Rogers paid no attention to the demon’s religious tirade. He merely inquired, “Why do you write? I didn’t command you to do this. I never even asked you to do this.”
“You told Williams and Linus to write! So why shouldn’t I?” the as yet unidentified demon sneered and then screamed back at Rogers. It was almost hysterical. “I’ve got so much more to say! I’m smarter than most of the others. I do as I damn well please!”
Before Rogers could reply, Karen threw the pen down and began to cry. She soon stopped the flow of tears and became increasingly violent. She jumped up, pushed Rogers away, savagely grabbed Sister Ruth, and fell to the floor in a flailing mass of arms and legs. Screams and curses obliterated all other sounds. Richard, Tyson the priest, and Sutter all helped to separate the two females. Once Sister Ruth was pulled away to safety, the three men pinned the furious girl to the floor.
Little four-foot nine-inch Karen weighed only an emaciated sixty-three pounds. Father Tyson sat with his six feet, two inch, two hundred and thirty-seven pounds astraddle Karen’s legs. Reverend Donald Sutter, the hulking Southern Baptist evangelist, draped his five feet, eleven inch, two hundred and ninety-eight-pound frame across Karen’s chest and abdominal region. Rogers knelt on the floor directly over her head. He held her hands and persisted in praying for her deliverance.
“You are a no-good bunch of rotten bastards,” screamed the hate-filled voice from deep within Karen. The tiny little retarded girl was desperately trying to squirm and battle her way free. It was a pathetic sight to behold. “God damn you! God damn all of you! I’m not coming out! I’ve moved in and I’m staying! I’ve taken over! You are all rotten sons-of-bitches! Son-of-a-bitch! Son-of-a-bitch! Son-of-a-bitch!”
Then, with no warning whatsoever, Karen’s facial features relaxed and she stopped struggling. The demonic female voice from within became syrupy sweet. Karen turned her head, looked directly at me, and winked. Then she spoke, “Gosh, I feel good. You have all really been nice to me. I can’t thank you enough. You’re great people to be around. I’m glad you decided to bring me here and help me. I love you all so much.”
There was a momentary pause. She continued: “You can let me up now. It’s all over. Elizabeth is gone. Elizabeth has left. You can let me up. I’m perfectly okay now. Please, will you let me up?”
Both Father Tyson and Reverend Sutter glanced questioningly at Rogers. Richard moved his head slightly to answer no. Rogers knew, through innumerable previous experiences in his deliverance ministry, that it was the evil spirit making a concentrated attempt to deceive them. He firmly rebuked it in Jesus’ name and called it a liar.
Karen promptly changed once more. Her facial muscles tightened. She drew her lips together until they whitened, and then commenced to curse. Her body started to quiver. Horrible, ear-shattering screams came forth, again–and again–and again. Her face became grotesquely contorted and her eyes flashed with spite. “So, you goddamned imbeciles want to play a game, huh? Well, hold on tight you mother-fucking shit-eaters. I’m going to show you a thing or two!”
With this outburst, Karen’s body tensed and became rigid. She slowly raised herself up into mid-air. There she stayed, suspended, with Tyson and Sutter still in position, approximately five feet off the floor. Tyson just sat there gaping. He looked rather ridiculous with his long legs dangling from either side of Karen. It was exactly as if the Catholic priest were astride a horse. Sutter appeared to be much like a captive who had been shot, then draped across the horse in front of the rider.
Here we were, nine other astounded people, seeing with our unbelieving eyes, a frail, sixty-three pound child, being pinned to the floor by the combined weight of two huge men. Suddenly, little Karen was levitating while carrying this bulk–a total of five hundred and thirty-five pounds. And the diminutive child passively floated there for seven full minutes, while Tyson and Sutter, their eyes like saucers, grabbed and hung on for dear life.
Rogers remained calm throughout. This man was to be admired and respected. Nothing seemed to upset him. He continued on target and firmly commanded the evil entity to come forth. The chilling response was: “I am Satan! I am the Prince of Darkness! Remove your hands from this child’s head or be prepared to suffer the consequences! Remove them now!”
Then, again without prior warning, Karen’s body thrust forward in the air and struck Rogers in the chest. The impact of the blow knocked him down. Karen began to twitch slightly, then jerk more violently. The movements became so powerful that Tyson and Sutter were tossed from her levitating body as if they were but feathers in the wind. Both men landed with a loud thump. Tyson immediately got back up on his feet, but Sutter was unconscious.
Karen’s body then slowly drifted up to the ceiling where it hanged against the plaster. Another ten minutes passed before it began to descend. She was still having violent seizures that were getting worse by the second. Her body jerked and twisted as it finally rested on the floor. Rogers yelled to the others in the room. He needed assistance. Everyone, as terrified as they were at that moment, automatically responded. They all ran over and grabbed for Karen’s wildly thrashing body. She was bellowing profanities and continued to fight back with superhuman strength.
The little retarded child was now uncontrollable. She kicked, clawed, and screeched. Blasphemies filled the air. Her hair stood on end, each long strand was straight as an arrow. It was just as if a heavy charge of electricity were flowing through Karen’s body and out of her head. During this period, the demon Elizabeth also yelled out Biblical passages, interspersed regularly with a large selection of terrible curse words.
Dr. Julian Pershing tried to take Karen’s pulse. At first she wouldn’t be still long enough. Suddenly she stopped struggling. She smiled diabolically at the man of medicine. She no longer resisted and held out her right arm, a smirk on her face. “Go ahead my good doctor, do your thing.”
Pershing took Karen by the wrist and began slowly counting to himself. Then he backed away and shook his head in disbelief. Karen Kingston’s pulse rate was 65–about what it should have been if she were in a state of sound slumber.
Dr. Pershing felt that Karen’s pulse rate should have been a bare minimum of 95, which would be indicative of the condition for a mildly excited patient. 150 would have been an even more logical pulse rate for Karen in this extreme physical state. It was not unusual, in his many years of medical practice, to see patients with a 200-pulse rate when they appeared to be in a condition similar to that of little Karen.
Pershing rechecked her pulse. Then a third time. The rate didn’t change a heartbeat. It was but another unsolved mystery in a series of baffling medical phenomena.
Dr. Pershing later attempted more pulse readings at various intervals, during each subsequent exorcism in this three-day period. Karen’s pulse late registered 65 when she appeared to be relaxing. It was 65 when she appeared to be mildly upset. It still remained at 65 while she was obviously under great stress. And it stayed at 65 when taken right after her most violent reactions.
Pershing also checked Karen’s respiratory rate. Respirations are also increased with the advent of excitement, hysteria, etc. Karen’s respiratory pattern was found to be a stable 20 per minute, a figure Dr. Pershing considered to be normal under ordinary circumstances.”
As soon as Pershing completed his third and final check of Karen’s pulse and her respiratory rate, the furious seizures began anew. Elizabeth again gave that same diabolical grin at the doctor and said, “Well good doctor, what is your diagnosis? Do you even have one? Give me the benefit of your learned mind and your scholarly background.”
Dr. Pershing said nothing.
Vulgar abuse once more spewed from Karen’s unmoving lips. The voice of Elizabeth polluted the air with debasing words. The room was filled with her shrill screams of agony. Tyson and some of the others backed even further away. They were pale and shaking. Rogers, Sister Ruth, the nurses, and evangelist Sutter still held on. Richard interrupted the demonic entity with “Why don’t you try praying? Why don’t you ask the Lord to help you in the name of Jesus? Pray, demon!”
“Praise Jesus!” exclaimed Sutter. “Oh, Jesus help us with this suffering child! In His holy name! Jesus, Jesus. Amen.”
Sister Ruth over and over whispered a three-beat cadence, “Oh my Jesus, Oh my Jesus, Oh my Jesus.”
Rogers’ voice could be heard over the cacophony of prayers and pleadings. He shouted, “Try praying, devil! Try praying! Stop this sacrilegious diatribe! In the name of Jesus, use no more of this filthy language!”
The entity, through Karen, would start a prayer, “God help me in the name of …” There was a slight hesitation. Then with a curse, Elizabeth inserted her own name.
A fit of spontaneous laughter followed each of five attempts at praying. The spirit continued, “God help me in the name of Je …, Elizabeth.” The exact same phrase was repeated, time after time after time. Finally Elizabeth screamed, “God cannot help me! I am God! Do you hear me? I am God!”
Rogers ignored the demon’s declaration. He merely asked Elizabeth, “Do you believe that Jesus came in the flesh?”
A sneering “no” was vehemently spat back in his face. Karen’s crossed eyes were now wide and like saucers. She looked exceedingly vile and evil. “Shit no! I don’t believe any of the god-damned garbage you’re trying to force-feed me!”
Rogers was unruffled. He asked Karen, “Do you want to be rid of the spirits?”
The voice of Elizabeth replied cautiously, “Let me think about that.” After a short pause, she added in a whisper, “No. I don’t want to be rid of my friends. I love my family. They give me power. Why should I try to make any of them leave me?”
“You can’t speak for Karen!” Finally, Rogers started chanting, “I challenge you in Jesus’ name! In Jesus’ name I command you to go! Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Go demon go!”
Sister Ruth and Reverend Sutter joined him. All three of the prayer warriors linked their hands with one another. They each began to chant in unison, “Come out for Jesus! Come out for Jesus! Come out for Jesus!”
The air in the room seemed to be charged with electrical energy. The change was abrupt and unexpected. The atmosphere close to little Karen was voltaic. Everyone present sensed that something important was taking place. Rogers’ words were having a galvanic effect on himself and Sister Ruth and Reverend Sutter. A spiritual blanket seemed to drop over the small but loudly praising group. There was pure bedlam around Karen. Ten minutes of this holy tirade produced positive results. The voice of Elizabeth, now terrified, came forth. This time it was whispering, almost unintelligibly, “I’m going, I’m going. It’s gotten unbearable in here. I’m tired. I can’t take any more of this.”
And for some unexplained reason, Elizabeth did leave-and quietly.
It was now 3:58 p.m. A rest period was in order. But there was no time.
WELLESLEY-THE FOURTH DEMON
And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. The Acts, 2:4
Saturday, 13 April 1974, 3:58 p.m. Exorcism Time: 2-hr. 34 min.
Hardly was this last demonic spirit, Elizabeth, cast out, when we all felt another wave of “electricity” surrounding us. Feeling he had no choice, Rogers wanted to continue. There was apparently another demon making its evil presence known. We sensed a hostile force that seemed to saturate the air. A stench of something indescribably horrible permeated every corner. We all experienced great difficulty in getting a good, deep breath.
Karen’s crossed eyes had that strange glassy look again. Rogers spoke to her and got no immediate answer. He prayed, laid on hands, and matter-of-factly described sin and the power of the Devil. The word “sin” evoked a reaction. Karen’s lips did not move, but a mocking voice replied, “What is sin, preacher boy? Explain sin to me. What are you talking about! Explain yourself!”
The diabolical utterance coming from Karen this time was once more coarse and male. It was undoubtedly masculine. The evil entity bantered with Reverend Rogers for a short period of time, then seemed to tire of the game it had instigated. Rogers said, “Who am I speaking to? Who are you?”
The satanic spirit didn’t hesitate with its response, “My name is Wellesley. Now, I want you to be sure and get the spelling correct! It is as follows: W-e-l-l-e-s-l-e-y, Get that?”
Turning to the priest, Karen pointed directly at him. Wellesley’s voice again came forth. “Why have you come to disturb my heart! I don’t even know you personally! Don’t you have better things to do in church? Your name is John Oliver Tyson. You’re a Catholic priest. But I’ve never run into you before today!”
Sutter tried to interrupt Wellesley in the middle of the demon’s tirade against Tyson, but the spirit paid no attention.
Rogers calmly waited. When Wellesley was finished, he spoke. “I thought you said you didn’t know this man? Yet, you spoke his name! Are you lying? Are you a…”
Wellesley sarcastically cut him off in mid-sentence. Karen continued to stare fiendishly at Tyson. “Who are you calling a liar? I don’t know that prick! We’ve never met in combat before today. Sure, I know who he is by name, but we’ve not met on the battlefield. Crap! He’s just another fucking priest! W e’re not afraid of those guys. A few, maybe! But Tyson and the likes of him? Shit no!”
Swinging her gaze away from the stunned Catholic clergyman, Karen faced the rest of those in the room. Wellesley’s voice, now foreboding, issued from between her still unmoving lips. “Who are you? What do you want of me? Why bother me?”
The voice again changed dramatically. It became even more ominous. Wellesley shrieked, “I am stronger than all of you put together!” And with these words, Karen pounced over toward tall and leggy Carol Petersen. She moved nimbly, like a wildcat, her fingers outstretched as if they were claws. Carol tried to move out of the way, but it was much too late.
Karen Kingston, all sixty-three pounds of her, behaved as a rabid animal. Her fingernails raked Carol’s angelic face from above the right eye, down across the nose, and onto her dimpled chin. Blood oozed and spurted freely in all directions. Carol panicked and dodged, but to no avail. Karen was all over her like a cougar, growling, hissing, clawing, and spitting. Her hands tore at Carol’s blood-speckled uniform top and the buttons popped off.
Her lacy brassiere was forcibly ripped from her body and hurled across the room. Peals of hideous laughter emanated from Karen’s throat as Carol’s torso was exposed. The nurse desperately tried to fight back, to protect herself, to cover herself, to break away. But tiny Karen was in full command. She lunged again at Carol, clawing wildly, and viciously biting her bare breasts. Carol, blood soaked and half-naked, fainted and sprawled motionless in an ever-widening crimson pool.
It took all seven of us to pull the child away from Carol. Tyson, Sister Ruth, Sutter, Rogers, Pershing, Emery, and I all plunged into the struggle. But the incident had happened so fast that we were unable to react until after the damage had already been done.
We were finally able to restrain Karen by holding her down on the floor a few short feet from where Carol lay unconscious. Rogers commanded Wellesley to “be still in Jesus’ name!” It was as if lightning had struck the little girl. She became subdued. We all rose, picked up Karen, and helped her back to her chair. There she sat, shrouded in a mysterious silence. Not a muscle quivered.
Meanwhile, Dr. Fromme, as well as the other nurses, Peggy and Joyce, rushed to Carol’s inert body. Dr. Pershing and Dr. Emery joined them. Carol was beginning to come around. When her blue eyes flickered open, stark terror was evident. She screamed, not immediately recognizing any of her coworkers. Hysteria enveloped the young woman. Dr. Pershing asked Peggy to get his bag. He fumbled in it momentarily, took out a disposable syringe, stabbed it into the rubber diaphragm of a thorazine bottle, withdrew the needle, and proceeded to give Carol an injection.
The sedative began taking effect in approximately ten minutes. They picked Carol up, carried her out to the hallway, took her into an adjoining room, and tried to make her comfortable on the couch. Everyone but Dr. Pershing then returned to the room in which Karen Kingston’s exorcism was still taking place.
At this point, Rogers felt it best to change his approach. He began taking the offensive by asking Wellesley to write. The evil entity at first would not cooperate. Karen remained quiet and unmoving. Rogers again demanded that Wellesley write, but to no avail. There was no reply. “Can’t you write?” chided Rogers. His voice dripped with sarcasm.
Wellesley paid no attention to Rogers’ words. He laughingly came back with, “Boy, we sure fixed that blonde bitch, didn’t we? I wish we could have bitten off her nipples!” Rogers ignored the degrading remarks.
“We really nailed that god-damned whore! I’ll say we did! She won’t be back. I’ll guarantee it, she won’t be coming back in here to help you. Just watch, Rogers old boy. Just watch and see! That lousy cunt has been done in! She’s had enough. We really taught her a lesson she won’t soon forget!”
The thundering harangue against the suffering nurse went on unceasingly. She was damned, she was ridiculed, and she was chastised. The diabolical manifestation seemed to have a one-track mind. And that track was directly aimed at poor Carol Petersen.
Reverend Richard Rogers finally tired of the demon’s terrible outpourings. He felt that to agree with the satanic spirit might quiet him down. He merely whispered, “Yes, you did hurt Carol. But what exactly do you think you accomplished?” There was no answer. An air of false calm surrounded Karen. She smirked, but said nothing else. It was more than obvious to everyone in attendance that Carol Petersen had been badly mauled in Wellesley’s violent physical attack. The tears, rips, and gouges on her face and body were a bloody testimony. But little did we know at the time. Little did any of us really know.
Again Rogers went on the offensive. He returned to his original query. “Can’t you write, Wellesley?”
“Yes, but you aren’t smart enough to read it!”
“Try me, Wellesley,” Rogers replied, “try me.” I’ll bet I can read whatever it is you are willing to put on paper.”
“You can’t, ha, ha, you can’t. I know you can’t.” Wellesley was relishing the situation. He was trying to make a fool out of Rogers as well as the others. Karen smirked as she twisted her head toward Father Tyson. Wellesley’s words smoothly tumbled out of her lips. “Clamor meus ad te veniat (Let my cry come unto thee). Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus (Holy, Help, Holy). Pleni sunt caeli ec terra gloria tua (Heaven and earth are filled with thy glory).” Wellesley, too, was fluently speaking in Latin as had the previous diabolical entity calling itself Williams. It was all in mockery of Tyson’s faith.
The demons seemed to revel in picking on this man. Father Tyson blanched. He immediately began reciting the Lord’s Prayer. As he did this, a continuous series of giggles erupted from Karen’s mouth and stomach. Her eyes danced with glee at the sight of the confused priest. Wellesley appeared to be having a good time at the expense of Father Tyson. His praying the Lord’s Prayer did nothing to help things.
Karen picked up a pencil. But instead of writing, Wellesley began carefully to draw pictures. While sketching, he hummed, then whistled. Just as he finished the artwork, Karen again looked over at the astonished priest. She winked and grinned. Wellesley’s voice came forth-he was now singing, in Latin.
Though Rogers had never ceased his communication with God all during this frightful period, he began praying more loudly. The demonic singing stopped. Karen turned to him now. Wellesley took Rogers’ supplications and began to make ridiculous poems out of them. He would scream profanities and mock the prayers. Apparently the unshakable faith of Richard Rogers was getting under Wellesley’s skin.
In the interim Father Tyson had regained his composure. He now responded more directly to the demon by moving in closer to Karen. Tyson thrust his crucifix forward and shouted, “Adjutorium nostrum in nomine Domini (Our help is in the name of the Lord).”
Wellesley chuckled. Karen’s lips formed a humorless smile. The demon answered Tyson: “Emitte lucem tuam et veritatem tuam (Send forth thy light and thy truth).”
Tyson came right back with “Kyrie eleison. Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy on us).”
There was no response this time from Wellesley.
Tyson continued, “Christe, eleison (Christ, have mercy on us).”
Using the word “Kyrie (Lord)” didn’t seem to phase the evil spirit. But when Father Tyson said “Christe (Christ),” Karen reacted as if stunned. She drew away from the crucifix, yet Wellesley would not speak. Her crossed eyes darted from Tyson to Rogers to Sutter to Sister Ruth. Something was happening–but we didn’t know exactly what it was. Then the dam broke!
A strange look came over Father John Tyson’s face. It was as if the heavy-set man had fallen into a hypnotic trance. His eyes glazed and his tongue involuntarily flickered out and over his lips. His jaws began to quiver. Tyson began to speak in tongues. (Glossolalia) This is virtually unheard of for a Catholic ever to do, under any circumstances. Yet there the man was, unable to control his vocal chords, reacting charismatically to the situation.
Rogers broke in with, “He’s got the Holy Ghost. I feel the Holy Ghost moving in this room! Hallelujah to God! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Glory to God! He’s got the Holy Ghost!”
Sister Ruth quoted 1 Corinthians 14:2: “For he that speaketh in an unknown tongue, speaketh not unto man, but unto God: for no man understandeth him … he speaketh mysteries.”
Reverend Donald Sutter was not unfamiliar with this supernatural happening. The manifestation of tongues was a regular event during his many evangelistic crusades. A tent meeting might be considered a failure if no one spoke in tongues. He, too, became “anointed by the spirit of God,” as he later called it, and joined in with Tyson. So did Richard Rogers and his wife, Sister Ruth.
(Sutter supported his belief by later quoting Isaiah 61:1 and Acts 19:6.)All four of these Christians felt the same power. They each moved in closer to Karen and joined hands. The room was charged. The air was filled with odd sounds, all totally different, yet each was a part of the phenomenon of tongues. The strange utterances continued for a full fifteen minutes.
When it was over, Father Tyson was a different man. He, Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Sutter began a sing-song chant: “There’s power in the Blood! There’s power in the Blood! There’s power in the Blood! ”
This went on for another ten minutes. The demon Wellesley became subdued. The four prayer warriors stopped their chanting. Rogers ordered Wellesley to “Come out of Karen Kingston in the name of Jesus!” The other three followed suit.
Karen was heard to give off an almost indiscernible belch. Delivery was instantaneous! There was no more violence. There was not a sign of a struggle. The heaviness of the air abated. The stench left the room.
It was now 6:32 p.m. Exhausted and bewildered, we quit for the day.
THE SECOND DAY
Sunday: 14 April 1974
HUGH-THE FIFTH DEMON
….there was a woman which had a spirit of infirmity…and was bowed together…Jesus saw her…and said…Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity. And he laid his hands on her: and immediately she was made straight… St. Luke, 13:10-13
Sunday, 14 April 1974, 7:00 a.m. Exorcism Time: 2 hrs., 29 min.
The group assembled in the room on this new day bore little likeness to the group that had gathered here twenty-four hours earlier. They were all rather haggard. No one had been able to get a sound night’s sleep.
Who possibly could after such a nightmarish experience? Each of us had been through a terrifying, often horrifying, yet ghoulishly exciting adventure into the uncharted world of the supernatural. Most, except for the Rogers couple and myself, had encountered a facet of life they could not begin to comprehend. Maybe they never really would.
There were ten people present this time. Carol Petersen, the nurse, was still under medication and was unable to attend. The terrible wounds she had received from Karen’s fingernails and teeth were extremely deep. They more resembled knife wounds than ordinary bites and scratches. Many had required stitches. Carol had confided in her close friends,
Peggy Welch and Joyce Donaldson. She told them that she had no intentions of coming back, even if she were physically able. They reported that Carol’s eyes had flashed with anger as she vocally blamed Reverend Rogers, Sister Ruth, Father Tyson, and evangelist Donald Sutter for her condition.
Carol’s attitude had undergone a complete reversal. She had called all four of these individuals “hypocrites who should be forced to leave that poor defenseless child alone.” She was, of course, referring to Karen Kingston.
She used unrestrained profanity in describing her innermost feelings to the other girls. Peggy and Joyce were shocked! The Carol Petersen they had worked closely with over the past couple of years had never used such language. She had always been refined and lady-like at all times. There was a distinct change in this vibrant young woman. And the change certainly didn’t appear to be for the better. Wellesley had proved to be correct–Carol wasn’t going to rejoin us. She was neither physically able–nor did she want to come back.
Rogers began as usual with a special prayer. Sister Ruth, Sutter, and Tyson joined him. Rogers led, the others repeated after him: “O God, come into our hearts. Assist us with your Son’s power in this struggle with the forces of darkness and despair. We implore you Jesus, aid us in our time of desperation, in our battle against the sinful wiles of Satan and his innumerable evil fallen angels.”
It didn’t take long for Karen to react. A new, completely different male voice began pouring out from her unmoving lips before Rogers and his prayer partners had even finished. None of them had yet placed their hands on the retarded little girl. “This is Hugh speaking. I figured I’d better go ahead and tell you who I am so you won’t have to bother me with such childish trivia. I really haven’t been inside this kid for very long. But, I will say, I certainly do like it in here. And I might add, I certainly do intend to stay on. I hope none of you will mind my staying.”
The spirit identifying himself as “Hugh” gave a strong impression of friendliness and warmth. He made it clear that he would be more than willing to hold a rap session with Rogers or any of the others. This particular demonic entity appeared to be accommodating.
Rogers momentarily ceased his prayers in order that he might better be able to hear what Hugh had to say. When the demon stopped talking, Richard then started anew. “O Heavenly Father, I beseech Thee in …”
Hugh again interrupted. “Damn! Stop that incessant mumbling. That’s not necessary! I mean, after all, I am conversing with you. That is what you want me to do–isn’t it? Well? Isn’t it?” Hugh’s voice was silky soft, yet noticeably cocky. He was playing a game with Rogers. He was subtly trying to steer this man of God away from the serious issue–his ultimate expulsion from Karen’s emaciated body. Karen crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose into the air.
Hugh’s tone changed to one of irritation when Rogers stood there, without comment, and stared directly at Karen. It upset him. The man was not that easily fooled. Hugh finally withdrew and offered no further communication. All was silent in the room for almost sixty seconds. The stillness was deafening.
“I command you in the name of Jesus, to leave this girl,” shouted Rogers. He quickly moved up closer to Karen. One hand reached out toward her. His speedy gesture took Hugh by surprise. Karen jerked her head away.
The demon refused, “No, I am very important in here. You can’t make me do anything! Besides, you can certainly tell from my initial conversation, that I’m not against you. I like you. We can be friends if you wish. Why don’t you be a little nicer to me?”
“Oh, so you call yourself a demon of importance?” queried Rogers, ignoring the other comments made by Hugh.
“I am extremely important!”
“Are there others in there with you?”
Hugh hesitated, stammered a moment, and became quiet. He seemed to be trying to avoid this type of direct confrontation.
Rogers reiterated his question, this time much more firmly. “Are there other demons in there with you?”
“Why do you always refer to us as demons?” replied Hugh. His tone was again bantering and light. “What makes you think that I am a demon? Boy, you really do have a serious demon hang-up, don’t you? I’ve seen your kind before. You Pentecostal people see a demon under every bed. I consider you as dangerous. And if I had my way, I’d put you in a padded room, lock the door, and throw away the key.”
“Are there other demons in there with you?” Rogers was persisting in this line of questioning. “Are there? Answer me in Jesus’ name!”
“Yes,” was Hugh’s begrudging reply. “Yes, damn it! There are others! But I’m not saying we are demons! But yes, there are some others in here with me.”
“Are you the most important one?”
“Without a doubt,” came the enthusiastic response, “at least I like to think so. I believe the others would agree. I am pretty top notch around here. The others admire me. Of course, they know their proper place in the scheme of things. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
“Do you know what I think!” chimed in the priest, Father Tyson. “I don’t think you are really important at all.”
“I agree!” shouted Sutter the evangelist. “I agree. You are not important! In fact, I think you’re bluffing!”
Karen turned and growled with rage. Her eyes clouded. She sprang from her chair and flew directly at Donald Sutter. The huge Baptist stood his ground, unafraid. He did not even flinch. He calmly grabbed Karen’s flailing hands and forcibly sat her right back down on the chair. He then commanded the demon, “Be still in the name Of Jesus!” Karen was.
Reverend Sutter had by now come to realize that deliverance was an important facet of all spiritual work. He had, until now, mistakenly ignored this area of the ministry. Yet, he knew it was performed through the identical spirit force he had so often called upon in his successful healing crusades and tent revivals. Exorcism, as Sutter now saw it in a new light, was a form of healing.
Rogers then asked, “How long have you been inhabiting this girl’s body?” The identical question was three times repeated. Each went unanswered. Hugh was refusing further discussion.
Sutter again joined Rogers. He pointed his finger directly at Karen and ordered, “In Jesus name–tell us! How long have you been in this child’s body? Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Answer me in Jesus’ name! ”
Hugh didn’t sound argumentative. His reply was a soft, “Well, not really very long.”
“How long?” Sutter was trying hard.
A period of silence.
“How long demon? In Jesus’ name, how long?”
More weighty silence.
The silence continued. Karen appeared to be brooding. Hugh was making it clear that he didn’t intend to cooperate.
Rogers now spoke. “If you don’t wish to talk, Hugh, then don’t talk right now. Instead, you may wish to write for me. Write something. Write anything you want to write. I don’t care what it is you put down on the paper.”
There was another long pause. Karen remained unmoving in her chair.
“I demand in Jesus’ name that you take up a pen or a pencil and write! You have no choice. You must write!”
Karen meekly reached for one of the pens, picked it up, and began to write. There was little expression on her face. Hugh seemed unwilling to resist too strongly at this point.
While Karen, pen in hand, filled the page with words, Rogers felt God’s anointing power. It came down over his head and shoulders like a warm cascade of water. “But why now?” he mused. Then he knew! God was giving him the spiritual gift of discernment (I Corinthians 12:1, 10). All of a sudden, Richard Rogers began quickly thumbing through his well-worn Bible. As if in a trance, he stopped at Luke, chapter 13.
His fingers moved down the page and he began to read verse 11: “And, behold, there was a woman which had a spirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together, and could in no wise lift herself.”
Karen stiffened and looked up at Rogers in amazement. As she threw down her pen, stark fear invaded her crossed eyes.
Rogers continued, now reading verse 12: “And when Jesus saw her, he called her to him, and said unto her, Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity.”
Karen now began twitching nervously. Her whole body quivered. Her physical actions betrayed the feelings of her demonic manipulator. Hugh had been caught off guard. Confusion reigned!
Rogers persisted, now reading verse 13: “And he laid his hands on her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God.” Karen began to weep. Her expression changed to one of turmoil. She rolled off her chair and onto the carpeted floor. She began to crawl away from all of us. It was as if the child were desperately searching for a place to hide, a way of escape. She was!
There was no question in Reverend Rogers’ mind. The demon, Hugh, was a dangerous spirit of infirmity. Hugh was no doubt the diabolical entity that made Karen’s shoulders pull far forward and inward. And now Richard knew exactly what he must do to defeat Hugh. God had mysteriously led him to this revelation. God had given him the clue he needed. Donald Sutter was the first to grab for Karen. Sister Ruth was a close second.
She placed both her hands on Karen’s back and said, “Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you. Jesus, help this child. Heal her. Rid her of this terrible affliction. Please Jesus, help us.”
Father Tyson moved in and laid his medallion of the Sacred Heart of Jesus on Karen’s head. He spoke, “In Jesus name, leave this little girl! Get out of her, devil! Get out of her in the name of Jesus Christ!”
“It’s all over, demon of infirmity!” Rogers walked over toward Karen’s writhing body. He placed his open Bible on her back. “As Jesus did, I now do. I lay the anointed hands of Jesus upon this bowed-together child! She is to be made straight as was the ‘woman.’ She is to glorify God. As Jesus said, I now say: ‘Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity!’”
The others followed Karen around the room. I personally had attended numerous church deliverance services while compiling material for two documentaries on demons, possession, and exorcism. I had seen many of the top evangelists in the world perform this spiritual feat. But I had not until this very moment ever seen a demonic reaction like the one I was now witnessing.
Karen seemed to have not a solid bone in her body. She slithered across the floor like a serpent. She wound her way over to the couch, crawled upon it, then over the back, and onto the floor again. Her body reacted much like a bowl of Jell-O. It was a mass of quivering flesh, totally without any rigidity.
Rogers never stopped his offensive. He first rebuked Hugh in the name of Jesus, then mocked the demonic spirit. Karen turned on him and bared her teeth. She began to loudly belch and to expel air. She hissed and spat at Rogers with a fury. Her tongue flickered in and out of her mouth as does a serpent’s tongue. She began to give off deep growls. It sounded as if the noises were coming from the throat of a crazed dog.
This was followed by something that sounded exactly like the dreadful warning of an angry rattlesnake. Karen’s head bobbed back and forth, her tongue flickered faster, and the chilling whir of the rattler became even more prominent. Hugh’s voice erupted. He lashed back with a furious verbal attack. “I hate you! I hate your guts! I feel only absolute scorn for all Christians! You are all bastards!”
Hugh went on with his barrage of vengeance. He made it perfectly clear that he despised everyone present, if only because they happened to be in the same room. And then, with one last phenomenal grunt, an extremely loud series of burps, and a two-minute chilling scream, Karen’s eyes rolled back in her head. She lay on her back, perfectly still. She was no longer bowed and her shoulders had become straight. It was finally over. Hugh had pulled out.
It was now 9:27 am. A rest period was in order.
AN ANONYMOUS ONE-THE SIXTH DEMON
…. a certain damsel with a spirit of divination met us. … But Paul … turned and said to the spirit, I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her. And he came out the same hour. The Acts, 16:16, 18
Sunday, 14 April 1974, 9:45 a.m. Exorcism Time: 2 hrs., 33 min.
Rogers now placed both hands firmly on top of Karen’s head and began to pray. The little girl remained motionless. He beseeched God for Karen’s deliverance and quoted Ephesians 6:12, “… we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness.. .”
This particular Scripture appeared to generate an immediate response from the demons within Karen. A gurgling noise emitted from deep inside her stomach. The more Rogers quoted this Scripture, the louder became the gurgling. Suddenly, a wavering, cranky old-womanish voice begged, “Stop! I’m burning up! I’m burning! I’m in Hell!
Without exhibiting any preliminary symptoms, Karen began to bloat. It was first evident in her abdominal region. Her belly soon resembled a huge balloon. The little thirteen-year-old looked as if she were eight or nine months pregnant. The demon cackled, “This little bitch is going to have baby! Look at her stomach! She’s about ready to deliver! What does the doctor think of this, Rogers? Ask Pershing! Do you have the power to stop such as this? Can your God perform such miracles through his servants? Come on, Rogers, show us all what your God can do now!”
It was an unbelievable sight to behold. The swelling slowly began to spread through Karen’s entire body–her face, neck, arms, legs, and buttocks. She was at least three times her normal size. Four separate popping noises reverberated through the room. The skin at her inner elbow and knee joints had burst and a four-inch gash of pink flesh appeared on each elbow and knee. But there was absolutely no sign of bleeding. Not a drop of blood flowed from any of these horrible gashes.
Rogers remained calm, as usual. The demonic spirit was firmly told to leave. Karen responded violently. She shouted back at him with the same elderly, vacillating voice, “I will not go! I am old and have nowhere to go! Leave me alone! I have no intention of hurting this girl! You are the one who forced me to do what I just did to her! You caused me to do this! Leave me be and I’ll take away the swelling! ”
The evil spirit was apparently quite confident at this point. Or was she merely bluffing? Rogers again commanded her to leave, but to no avail. A cackling, then a burst of unearthly laughter answered each of his orders. Sutter tried his hand. Tyson made a weak effort. Sister Ruth begged her God to intervene. There was no response–except more demonic chuckling coming from deep within Karen.
Rogers changed his tactics. He now commanded the demon to write for him. He was noticeably surprised when Karen did so without any hesitation. The script was more of a scrawl, but it did closely match the type voice we were hearing. It too appeared to be the handwriting of a person of advanced years.
Rogers carefully scanned the unique handwritten message. “So you claim to be a psychic counselor? You claim to be one who is able to work miracles of healing? Do you also claim to be able to communicate with the dead?”
“Oh, yes, of course I do this. So do many others,” responded the aged feminine voice. “This is really not uncommon, you know. Tens of thousands of people have participated in seances, as you call them, and have subsequently been witness to this phenomenon. Why even your Christian Bishop Pike, whom I’m sure you are familiar with, communicated with his dead son.”
“By God’s word, I charge that you are lying!” exclaimed Rogers. “I command you, on the blood of Jesus Christ, to tell us the truth! The Bible doesn’t support your testimony!”
“Okay, I guess it really won’t hurt anything,” agreed the demonic entity. The spirit’s apparent willingness to divulge this important information surprised Rogers. He had never in the past had one who would reveal anything about this facet of the spiritual world. The entity went on: “Human beings, by their very nature, are extremely gullible. Naturally they cannot communicate with their deceased loved ones and friends.
But what an opportunity this gullibility presents for our side! I can tell you all of this because no one’s going to accept it anyway. The doors will still be wide open to all of us in the other world.“
You see, some individuals don’t even realize it, but they have been inhabited by many of us for a great number of years. They eventually die. Well, my friends and associates are then forced to roam around in what you call a disembodied state. Naturally, the first thing any of us searches for is another human vessel who will not resist our efforts to gain entrance.”
Rogers remained silent and just stared at the huge balloon of a girl sitting in front of him. This was truly a revelation. It was the first time he had ever gotten a demon to speak so openly on the subject. The evil spirit rambled on: “What better place to enter another person than at a spiritist meeting, where a medium is ignorantly attempting to communicate with a dead person’s spirit! I say ignorantly because those foolish people actually do sincerely believe that they are in direct communication with the dead. Well! I can tell you this–they are not.”
“Exactly who or what are these people communicating with?” asked Reverend Rogers. He believed that he already knew. The Bible, in his estimation, was crystal-clear on this point. Yet, the entire issue was subject to debate in both religious and secular circles. Theologians of all denominations hotly argued, pro and con. But here was a golden opportunity to find out from an expert–a demonic entity.
“I believe you know the answer to that question,” said the demon. “Let’s not kid each other. It’s no more than one or more of my associates. They’re merely imitating the man or woman who died, You can understand how we would know so many intimate things about the deceased.
After all, the particular spirit may have spent years and years living with that person. Or, on the other hand, it’s the easiest thing in this world to counterfeit the person who has died. It doesn’t matter whether the death occurred recently or even many centuries ago. Time as you know it is irrelevant in our world.
“A great many of us have done this, time and time again. After all, if a spiritist medium, psychic, or whatever it is you wish to label the individual, willingly calls upon the spirit of a dead person, and if this individual, and his other assembled group of followers, are naive enough to play games with my world, then what exactly would you expect us to do? Play? No! We never play games.”
“We parody the words, thoughts and mannerisms of the deceased. We can reveal many things that only those close to the deceased could possibly know. Why? Because for one thing, this convinces everyone at the gathering that it’s a miracle. We can then more readily bring the living field into our fold.”
Reverend Rogers tolerantly listened. The others gaped in amazement. When the entity finished, Evangelist Sutter asked a question. He and Father Tyson had been exchanging hurried whispers. Tyson wanted to know about the Oui-Ja board. A number of his parishioners had become deeply involved in playing this popular game. In fact, the Oui-Ja had been the mainstay at the last church social. Donald Sutter carefully phrased his question.
“The OuiJa board, my hefty evangelist friend, is no different,” revealed the evil entity. It seemed not at all to mind the Baptist’s interest. “As you well know, some people use this for fun. A few approach it more seriously. Nevertheless, each is consciously trying to receive messages from this familiar object. A great number of people accept the fact that they are in direct communication with the spirit world. They have no fear.
Why should they? We have already captured them. The others? All we must do is be patient and wait. Those of our world, in such situations, are required to exert no effort in order to gain our ends. These people are, in a sense, begging us to come forth, to enter them, to give them power. We do! It’s easy when people play with the things of our world. They open the door, not us! They gladly welcome us. We don’t have to force ourselves upon them. Why should we? It’s not necessary.”
The demon stopped talking. Rogers, Sutter, Tyson, and Sister Ruth all had more questions. They asked. There was no response. Other queries were offered. Still the room remained quiet. Minutes slipped by. Then, suddenly, the evil entity began to chortle. Her words sounded gleeful. “This is really no big deal! Now I’ll really show you something. Want me to? I can make this girl shit all over herself! Just watch this!”
A resounding crackling noise came from where Karen was sitting all bloated out of shape. A long, slow hissing sound could be heard. It was much like steam escaping from a broiler. A foul odor exuded from Karen. Rogers winced, but continued to pray and call on Jesus for assistance. Dr. Fromme pulled out his handkerchief and covered his nose, as did some of the others. Dr. Emery, Father Tyson, and Peggy Welch ran out of the room.
Each began to vomit before they ever made it to the door. Joyce Donaldson was trying to hold her breath, but she too finally had to gasp for air. She tried to stay, but it wasn’t possible. Demonic guffaws overrode all other sounds in the room.
“Can you smell that shit? Isn’t it beautiful? Oh, how wonderful! What a delightful experience! I love that smell! Ummmmmm. It’s Soooooo good, so-O-O-O-O-O good!”
“You must stop this terror! You must release this child and go away!” stressed Rogers. He, too, had one hand clamped tightly over his nostrils. His voice, his prayers, and his commands, were muffled. “My Lord Jesus orders you! It is not I, but Jesus who says you cannot stay. You must, in Jesus’ name, leave this child alone! You must, in Jesus’ name, stop hurting her!”
”But I told you I have no place to go! Can’t you just lay off? Can’t you just leave me alone?” “Can’t you find some animal to enter?” responded Rogers. “Why don’t you leave Karen and go find a dog or a cat to possess?”
“No! No! No! You don’t understand!” countered the demon, now wary. “It’s harder than you might imagine.”
“Why?” asked Sutter, “Why?” The odor was still hanging heavily in the air. He, too, continued holding a hand over his nose, and tried to hold back nausea.
“Don’t be a silly ass,” she said in now even more guarded tones. “It’s just not that easy to accomplish, even with an animal. But I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Tell me why!” ordered Rogers. “In Jesus name, tell me why you say this. I order you to answer, in the name of Jesus!”
“Oh, no–no–no!” Karen tried to pull away from Rogers and the others. There was a long hesitation. Then, “Oh, please leave me alone! It’s just not that simple.”
The voice of the demon continued to dodge the issue. She did not wish to answer the questions. Karen began scratching her head as the entity talked. She appeared to be thoroughly confused. The spirit was also beginning to sound irrational. Rogers then said “Are there other demons in there with you?”
Karen acted even more fearful. Her crossed eyes jumped from Rogers to Sutter to Sister Ruth. All three looked sick. The terrible smell was taking its toll. She shifted in her chair and dropped her chin to her chest. There was more mumbling. The spirit was acting as if it was determined to avoid giving this answer. Finally, after Rogers kept pressuring, she responded with “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! God damn it anyway! Yes! Now don’t bother me anymore!”
“On Jesus blood–I command you to leave this girl’s body!” Rogers again came against the demon. “I demand that you leave-in Jesus’ name!”
The demonic force made Karen shrug and then it retorted, “I —will–not–leave! This–is–my—house! This–is–my–home! I–will–not–leave—here!”
“This young girl is one of God’s children,” replied Rogers. “You have no right to be in her body. Jesus once said, ‘And these signs shall follow them that believe. In my name shall they cast out devils.’ (Mark 16:17) I believe in Jesus! Therefore, in His holy name, I have been given the power to cast you out!”
Another shrug and a weaker, “But–but, I was here first. It’s not fair. I was here first.”
Something was going to have to happen, and quickly. Either this demon was going to be forced out, or Rogers and the other two were going to have to stop momentarily. None of the holy trio had been able to take a deep breath for some time now. The abominable odor was as a shroud around all of them. All three began chanting, “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Help us, Jesus! Help us, Jesus!” The sing-song pleas were continually interrupted by coughs and gasps for breath. But not one of three would stop. A dash of white light enveloped them. A warm breeze could be felt washing over everyone. And the suffocating pungency lifted. The stink was gone! The air had cleared!
“Bless Jesus,” bellowed Sutter, taking his first breath of fresh air. “Jesus has moved! Thank you, Jesus. In His holy name, thank you, Jesus.”
“You are commanded by the authority of Jesus Christ–on His blood–to leave now!” yelled Rogers, his strength renewed. Sutter followed this with the same words. Sister Ruth continued rhythmically chanting the name of Jesus.
The demon in Karen began to wail. Karen’s eyes welled up with tears. The voice within, now resigned, said, “I don’t know where to go. Please, I’m afraid. Please, I beg of you, leave me alone. I’ll stop hurting her. I’ll be good.”
Rogers and Sutter kept prodding onward with their forceful demands. They would not let up for a moment. Both sensed victory was at hand. Then, just as suddenly as she had swollen up, Karen’s puffiness began to recede. Within a minute’s time, the hapless little teenager was back to her normal size. And the terrible gashes on the soft skin of her inner elbows and knees were closed. We could all actually see the skin slowly pulling together, until there was no longer any opening where the deep cuts had formerly been.
The unidentified demon exited from Karen with a long, ear-shattering wail. It was as if a tremendous pressure had been released. The relief was enormous. We all felt a tangible change in the very air around us. It was much like an enjoyable moment of silence after hearing a nerve-wracking session of hard-rock music.
Dr. Pershing and Dr. Emery immediately checked Karen’s elbows and knees. There were no open wounds, no pink-flesh gaping at them. But oddly enough, there was a clear, fine white line where each jagged gash had been. All Pershing and Emery could do was slowly shake their heads. Neither man would have believed this if a fellow practitioner had related it to them. But there they both stood, seeing the scars with their own eyes.
It was now 12:18 p.m. We all took a break for lunch.
MOCKERY-THE SEVENTH DEMON
And when he had called unto him his twelve disciples, he gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out… St. Matthew, 10:1
Sunday, 14 April 1974, 2:08 p.m. Exorcism Time: 1 hr. 47 min.
The aftermath of the previous exorcism brought a new aspect of reality to the events that had taken place. After the anonymous demon had been expelled, the nurses, along with Dr. Pershing, helped Karen from the room. They took her down the hallway to where the showers were located. Joyce undressed the pitiful little girl while Peggy went to find a sponge and some towels.
Karen had defecated, just as the diabolical entity had said she would. The excrement was heavily smeared all over the poor child’s lower body. Karen stood where they placed her, stark naked, and subdued. Joyce regulated the faucets until the water was comfortably warm. They put Karen under a light spray and tenderly sponged her off. Peggy abruptly stopped bathing her and told Joyce to get the doctor.
Joyce called Dr. Pershing. She said nothing but simply pointed to Karen’s abdomen. There they were–bruise-like stretch marks all over little Karen’s stomach. Pershing turned Karen around and examined her. There was no longer any doubt! We had not been seeing Karen bloat through any kind of hypnotic trance, or through a powerful demonic suggestion. It had actually happened. She did swell up and she did then go down. The numerous stretch marks proved it.
Peggy and Joyce finished sponge bathing Karen, dried her off, and dressed her in some clean clothes. A nurse’s aid was called in to take the child to lunch. Peggy, Joyce, and Dr. Pershing then left the shower room and went to join the others in the cafeteria.
Reverend Richard Rogers felt less tension after taking an extended lunch break. He was well-rested and ready. His strength had been restored. Rogers calmly strolled over to where Karen was sitting. He again placed both his hands firmly upon the top of her head.
Sister Ruth kneeled by the little girl’s side. This time Rogers started by saying a special prayer over Karen. I had found it weeks earlier in my files and had given it to him at the break. World-renowned missionary-evangelist G. M. Farley had sent this particular prayer to me. Reverend Farley had used it many times in performing successful exorcisms all over the globe.
Rogers prayed softly: “Heavenly Father, in the name of your precious Son, Jesus Christ, I approach the throne of Grace in behalf of this dear child whom Satan hath bound. I thank you that your Son has borne every one of these sicknesses in His own body, and that by His stripes we are healed. For his sake I ask for complete deliverance for Karen Kingston.
“Now, thou foul tormenting spirit, I adjure you in the mighty and precious name of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to leave this helpless child. In His name, I command you to loose your hold on God’s property and set this child free right now. Because I speak in His name you must go.”
“In Jesus’ wonderful name we give thanks and praise unto God. Amen.” (Slight modifications were made to this prayer to suit this particular situation.)
Keeping his hands on Karen’s head, Rogers continued taking authority over the evil spirits by constantly reminding them of Jesus. He was merciless in his pursuit of what he called “victory over Satan and his host of fallen angels.” Richard prayed, quoted scripture, commanded and demanded. Finally another masculine voice emerged from Karen. It was foreboding, sinister.
“We have met many times before, Brother Rogers; back off, back off, back off.”
With that, Karen screamed like a banshee, leaped from her chair, grabbed Rogers by the throat, and tried to strangle him. Both fell to the floor in a maze of flailing arms and legs. Sutter, Tyson, and Sister Ruth all tried desperately to yank Karen away. But she was in an insane fury and could not be deterred. Her strength was superhuman. “Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!” she yelled.
Rogers cried out, “The blood! The blood of Jesus! The blood!” It worked. Karen released his throat and collapsed at his side. She lay there for a moment, as if dead. Suddenly and mysteriously revived, the little girl hurriedly drew away from him, without saying a word. She quietly crawled back into her chair.
Richard immediately regained his composure. He got to his feet and once more approached Karen. His voice sounded much sterner then before. “Now be still, demon! Be still in Jesus’ name! You’ll not attack me again! What is your name? I command you, tell me your name. In Jesus’ name, you must!”
The demon responded, “I have no name, but you know me well!” The tone of his voice was low, bantering, and confident.
“I know you have a name, and I intend to find out what it is,” countered Rogers. He again rebuked the evil one, and followed this with, “I take authority over you through the blood and victory of Christ. I now order you to write!”
“I don’t believe you’ll let me stay in here, so I’m not going to write a damned thing for you! Just forget it!”
Rogers countered with, “Try me. I’ll bet that you don’t even know how to write, do you? Do you, demon of despair?”
“Hell yes, I do,” stammered the evil entity, “but I sure don’t have to write anything for you!”
This argument went on for five more minutes. Rogers tried hard to get this particular demonic spirit to write, but it was all to no avail. The demon finally told him that he’d rather the preacher try to make him come out than to keep “bugging” him about such a senseless thing as writing.
The Holiness man of the cloth then said, “Jesus wants you out! I want you out! We all want you out! Come out in the name of Jesus Christ! Come forth in the name of Jesus.”
The spirit refused to obey. It cursed Rogers soundly. “I will not come out! Her soul is my castle. I will leave only when this girl dies and no sooner! I do not wish to seek a new dwelling until then!” Again and again it was rebuked in Jesus’ name.
“Stop it! Stop it!” the demon cried, “I can’t stand hearing that name! It makes me puke!” Whereupon Karen foamed at the mouth and threw up on the floor. Again she lunged at Rogers, grabbed his arm, and tried to bite him.
Rogers shook loose from his demonic attacker. He kept a firm hold on Karen’s arms, looked directly into her eyes, and said, “Why does it hurt so much? Why do you hate to hear the name of Jesus?”
“It makes me ill! You make me ill!”
“Do you realize that I have the authority to cast you out?”
“You seem to think so,” laughingly answered the demon, “but you are a fool. You are following the wrong leader!”
Rogers ignored this and responded with, “Are you a demon of fear?”
There was long pause–then a whispered, “No.”
“Are you a demon of hatred?”
A longer pause–then a smiling, “No.”
“Then what kind of demon are you?”
There was another long pause. Then the demon finally answered with a coy, “I guess you could call me Mockery. Yes, call me Mockery. My name is Mockery.”
“Do you hate me as you say you do Jesus!”
Vehemently the demon responded, “Yes, I hate your guts! Yes! I despise you and your kind! You are rotten …”
Rogers interrupted. “How long have you been in this child?”
“Since the beginning.”
“The beginning? The beginning of what?”
“Back when she was only seven years old,” gloated Mockery. “You do know that her father was a sloppy old drunk, don’t you? You do know that he was stabbed to death, don’t you? You do know that her mother was a whore, don’t you? Well?
What better time could there be? I mean, the child had no defenses. She went into shock. It was really quite easy for me and the others to enter. We just came out of her father first when he died. Then we kept the door open for the others in her mother. After all, the broad was no longer of any use to us since she was going to be locked up behind bars.”
“When exactly did all of this take place?” asked Rogers, feigning surprise. “Can you tell me this?” “Time is relevant only to you people, not us,” responded Mockery. “We go by no calendars or clocks. Time is nonexistent to us. It is unimportant in our world.”
“But you must know. It’s not a difficult question.”
“Sure I know when it was! It was on Sunday afternoon, July 14, 1968, to be exact. The time? Right at 2:34 p.m. It was a stormy day, wet and gloomy. How’s that, Reverend?”
Karen’s small body darted vertically into the air. Her head was shaking violently back and forth. Her eyelids shuttered. Her lips quivered. She sat there, suspended, one foot off the chair, for what seemed to be an eternity. Her body moved three feet to the left, then suddenly straightened. Her head dropped limply to her chest. Her left foot was placed over her right. Both arms shot straight out at a ninety degree angle from her body. It was exactly as if the little girl was pinned to a cross. She appeared to be in terrible anguish.
Rogers walked over to where Karen hovered. He placed both hands on her head and said, “Demon, you’ll not mock the crucifixion of Jesus Christ! Jesus spilled his blood so that I might dominate you! O Evil one, I command you, in Jesus’ holy name, to release this suffering child! In the name of Jesus Christ, cease this blasphemous act!”
It worked! Mockery obeyed without argument. Karen began to descend. Her feet touched the floor. Her lifeless body dropped in a disheveled heap. Sister Ruth and Donald Sutter both ran over, laid on hands, and praised the Lord. But it was not yet finished!
Rogers now kneeled by the little girl’s side. He prayed and put his hands back on her head. He continued his offensive and relentlessly closed in on the diabolical fiend. Karen opened her eyes and twisted away from him. She was in a state of extreme torment. She crawled all over the room, barking like a dog, sniffing everyone’s shoes, then licking. When finished, she frantically crawled to the other end of the room and tried to hide herself in a corner. Rogers closely followed, as did his other prayer warriors. Each in turn, then together, rebuked the evil spirit and commanded it to leave. The sheer hatred expressed toward the group was frightening.
The demon, Mockery, cursed and moaned as Karen rolled around on the carpet. She began to spin around and around like a top. This started slowly and then gained momentum until the speed was so great that Karen was no more than a hazy blur. The tortured howls became more raucous. Her chilling, almost nonstop screams were nerve-wracking. She vomited once, twice, a third time. Hunks of rotten flesh-like pudding flew in all directions and spattered everyone present. The steaming pieces had a sickening odor.
Rogers yelled, “Demon of darkness, be still in the name of Jesus!” Karen stopped spinning, stiffened, rolled over on her back, and lay with her arms outstretched. Her hair shrouded her face. She was rigid. Not a muscle in her body moved, not a nerve twitched.
A dark cloud appeared just above Karen’s subdued body. Rogers kneeled and took one of her hands in his. It was clammy. He placed his other hand on her ashen forehead. This, too, was cold and beaded with droplets of moisture. Only when Rogers said, “Go demon, leave this vessel! Jesus! O Jesus! Death, I rebuke you in the name of Jesus! You cannot take this child from the Lord! Death, I rebuke you!” did the fog-like mass begin to drift out and away from the helpless little girl. It finally floated over to the far wall, penetrated the plaster, and disappeared. Mockery had left.
Evangelist Donald Sutter asked Rogers, “Why did you rebuke Death? I’ve never heard of anyone’s doing that before. Do you consider Death to be a demonic spirit?”
“You must rebuke Death under certain circumstances,” replied Rogers. “Death is often a spirit, as Mockery turned out to be in this case. Had I not rebuked the Demon of death as I did, Karen Kingston would not be alive right now.”
Rebuking a demon of death is commonly done in many deliverance ministries. One of its foremost advocates is Pastor H. A. Maxwell Whyte of Canada. This godly man and his wife, Olive, are probably the best known deliverance team in the world today.
As Karen regained consciousness, her body relaxed. Rogers took his hand from her forehead. She pushed her disarrayed hair away from her face and smiled sweetly up at him and the others. Donald Sutter was the first to note the dramatic change in the child. He gasped, “Brother Rogers! Hallelujah! Praise his holy name! Oh, my Lord! Brother Rogers, look!”
Everyone pushed and shoved their way closer. Tyson made the sign of the cross over Karen. Sister Ruth’s waist-length hair was getting wet with tears. She was overcome by racking sobs. Rogers was still on his knees. He said nothing. Dr. Emery’s brow was knitted as he unconsciously stroked his goatee. Fromme and Pershing were both perplexed. The nurses simply gaped.
Karen’s eyes were now clear. And they were uncrossed. Another miracle had just taken place in that room at the retarded children’s home.
It was now 3:55 p.m. A rest period was in order. But there was no time.
MARIANA-THE EIGHTH DEMON
…. God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with power: Who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil…. The Acts, 10:38
Sunday, 14 April 1974, 3:55 p.m. Exorcism Time: 2 hrs., 36 min.
Another spirit force made its presence known at almost the very moment Mockery departed from his home in Karen. This time it was distinctly feminine. The diabolical being was agreeable to whatever Rogers wanted. It seemed more than willing to appease the pastor in order to avoid a major battle. Rogers told it, “You know that you are going to have to leave this girl. You do understand this, don’t you?”
The female entity readily agreed. It sounded rather depressed, “I know when I’m beaten. I saw what you did to the others. I won’t cause any trouble for you. Don’t worry.”
Rogers tensed. This was much too effortless. No demon was going to go out without a fight. Or would it? None ever had in his past years of experience. He explained, “I want you to write something for me before you go. Prove to me that you are not a troublemaker. Prove it by writing.”
Karen immediately reached for a pencil. There was no hesitation, no rebelliousness. Rogers became even more suspicious. He sensed danger brewing. Karen’s hand moved tediously over the paper. The Satanic entity was making her print instead of write. Rogers questioned, “Why do you print?”
“But why not write as did the others?”
“Because I wanted to print,” came the soft reply. A tinge of sarcasm then crept into the entity’s voice. “I felt like printing. I don’t feel like writing. I seldom do anything that I don’t want to do.”
“What should I call you?” asked Rogers.
“Nothing. You don’t have to call me by any name.” The spirit’s voice had changed again, this time to defensive. “Why don’t you go away and leave me alone. I’ve been nice.”
“Tell me your name!” challenged Rogers, raising his voice. “I command you to do this on the blood of Jesus!”
“If you will kiss me, I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” replied the demon, in a sultry yet contemptuous tone. Karen’s lips puckered as she looked up. “I’ll even go away and never bother you again. I’ll leave this girl. Kiss me. Please? All I want to do is feel your lips on mine.”
“No! I don’t have to kiss the likes of you in order to get you to leave. I make no bargains with Satan’s soldiers. But you do have to obey me. I have power over you in the name of Jesus. You must obey me!”
“Is that so?” the spirit sneered back at him.
“Yes, my power is absolute–and you know it!”
“Well–if you say so. Believe whatever you wish.” With this, Karen gave a nonchalant shrug. Her eyes became expressionless and she looked bored.
“Did you print because you are a childish spirit?” asked Rogers. He had again changed his line of attack.
“Kiss me, you fool; kiss me. You’ll love the feeling.” Again Karen pushed her lips out. She ran her tongue across them sensuously. “Put your lips to mine, you rascal. I’ll give you the thrill of your life.”
“Answer my question. Why—did—you—print? Are you childish? Are you too young to write?”
“You are really rather dumb,” mocked the entity. “Would a child use that kind of language?
Rogers was taken off guard. He looked at the printing on the paper before him, then handed it to me. There was nothing out-of-the-ordinary, no profanity, nothing more than a few simple words. Yet the demon had used it as a ploy, an attempt to divert his attention. Rogers then asked, “What is your name? Who are you? What do you do?”
“None of your god-damned business!”
“In Jesus’ name, tell me the truth! Who are you?”
“Mariana. None other than Mariana.” The entity’s tone was now more tempered. It was a surprising change.
“Mariana?” queried Rogers, a bit taken aback by the ready answer given by the demonic manifestation. “Who is Mariana? What does Mariana do?”
“I am Mariana. I am the bitch. I am a bitch in heat. I am Mariana, the bitch!” Her words were angrily spouted out. She sounded as if she were infuriated. Karen sneered and spit at Rogers. Mariana continued. “I am a sex maniac! I am an adulteress! I am the one who controls sexual things! I need sex! I want to make it with everybody in this room! Why, I can even make this child masturbate at will!” Rogers disregarded the demon’s last statement. He shouted, “You are commanded to come out of her in Jesus’ name!Come out for Jesus Christ!”
“Didn’t you even listen to me?” I said that I am the one who makes this girl masturbate, m-a-s-t-u-r-b-a-t-e. There, I even spelled it for you, you ignoramus! Don’t you even know what masturbate means? I’ll tell you in plain words—she plays with her pussy. Now do you get the picture? She fingers and rubs her cunt and makes herself feel good all over.”
“Stop that disgusting talk!” hollered Donald Sutter. “I order you, speak not of such filth in our presence! I will not stand for any more!”
“Fuck you, you Baptist motherfucker!” Mariana’s rejoinder was vicious. “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! You’re nothing more than a Southern Baptist cocksucker! Motherfucker!”
“Has coprophemia been a common characteristic of this girl’s behavior?” asked Dr. Clarence Emery, the scholarly psychiatrist who was employed at a nearby university. Dr. Fromme had often called in Emery for consultation on difficult cases in the past. Now of course he was merely an observer.
Fromme nodded, no. “I’m not aware of Karen’s ever having done anything like this before.”
“What are they talking about? What in the world is coprophemia!” Sutter looked to Father Tyson for an explanation.
“I don’t know,” responded Tyson. He turned to the two nurses. What is it?”
“What is what?” asked Peggy. She hadn’t heard the conversation going on between the doctors, or between Sutter and Father Tyson.
“Coprophemia?” said Tyson.
Before either of the girls could answer, Dr. Pershing said, “I believe it’s a term used to denote foul and obscene language.”
Meanwhile, Sister Ruth was red-faced from embarrassment. She had been through similar situations before, many times. Yet it was never easy to hear and accept this kind of ungodly filth. The words singed her ears. Her heart ached for Karen, but she could do absolutely nothing except pray harder and continue to praise her Jesus, hoping, always hoping that her Jesus would intervene.
Rogers merely repeated his previous command, “Come out for Jesus! Come out of her in Jesus’name!”
“Screw that Baptist bastard! Let him go fuck himself!” Mariana was ignoring Rogers. The demon was still raging out of control at Sutter.
Father Tyson was observing from a few feet away. He had not been much a part of the first three exorcisms this day. His reaction to the speaking of tongues of yesterday was still a mixture of confusion and excitement. The unique feeling of loving warmth, the euphoric sense of well-being–these were entirely new to him. He so desperately wanted to believe it was God’s show of spiritual power descending in the room and enveloping his total being.
One moment he did believe it was the Lord’s way. It had to be, what else could have done this? But, then, his years of training for the priesthood, his vast scholarly background–no, it couldn’t possibly be real. Or could it?
Rogers stood fast. Again he spoke, “Mariana, you must eventually come out of Karen. Why don’t you get it over with?”
Karen started to tremble noticeably. Her lips quivered spasmodically. Mariana erupted, “I hate god-damned women! You say you have strength, you say you are strong in your faith! You say you can perform miracles through your God?” Well–take a look at this! See what I can do to this bitch in heat!”
With the finish of this tirade, Karen jumped to her feet. A rivulet of fresh blood trickled down her right leg. It ran over her shoe and onto the floor where a crimson pool slowly formed. Mariana challenged Rogers again. “See if you can stop that, preacher boy! Go ahead! Show me your power! Stop her menstrual flow! The fact is, this bitch just had a period only seven days ago! I’m making her start another one! Prove your power! Prove it by drying up her cunt! Can you? Shit no, you can’t, you….”
Rogers tried to intervene. Sutter and Sister Ruth joined him. All three began shouting the name of Jesus as loud as they possibly could. It was pure bedlam in the room. But their voices were almost completely drowned out by Mariana’s now overpowering diatribe. Karen remained standing. The blood flowed faster. The crimson pool at her feet was ever widening. It was now running down both legs.
“Cunt! Cunt! Cunt! Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!” Mariana was screaming. She was in a state of insane fervor. “Does all of this embarrass you, Sister Ruth? How about you, Sutter? Well, then, stop me mister preacher! Stop me. Do your thing! Where is your God now? Make this girl stop bleeding! Then I will believe you have power! Do it, then I’ll gladly leave!”
Rogers said nothing. He had his eyes closed. He clutched his open Bible closer to his chest and continued his Jesus chant along with the others. Then he opened his eyes. They showed no fear. He merely stood, watched, and patiently waited for Mariana to finish.
His mind was racing: Is this Satan himself, entering into the battle for Karen’s soul could it be Lucifer using his personal powers of evil in art attempt to scare me away? Is all of this a big bluff? Is this no more than a sign that Mariana is really afraid of me? Is the demon in Karen doing this to shake my confidence? She must be trying to test my faith in God. I simply won’t let this happen. I will not doubt Jesus and the Heavenly Father!
Rogers forcibly shook his head. He had allowed himself the luxury of drifting with his thoughts. He was now back in reality. He concluded that the demon was bluffing, only because he had this far been so successful in casting the others out of Karen. Mariana had finally ceased screaming her invectives. His words were soft but firm: “I rebuke thee, demon. I rebuke the flow of blood coming out from this helpless child, as Jesus did in Matthew 9:20-22. In Jesus name, stop the bleeding!”
The gushing blood immediately ceased!
Rogers now asked the others to get on their knees. He began to pray, begging God to step in, to move on him and his prayer warriors, to give them a special anointing of the Holy Ghost. He knew that he would need much more power than usual in order to loosen the hold of this demonic force.
“Jesus, O Jesus, thank you for drying up the bleeding by touching this child,” he continued. His tone was soft. “Jesus, O Jesus, we need your assistance now. We need the total power of our Heavenly Father. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Give this demon a sign from above. Combat what Satan’s soldier has done. Give me your anointing. O Jesus, give me your anointing. Bring down the wrath of the Lord upon the head of this demon calling herself Mariana.
O, God, bless us with your anointing of the Holy Spirit. In Jesus’ name, amen.” The room became noticeably warmer. It was filled with an uncanny peacefulness. There was an overpowering feeling of love in the air. Rogers began to quiver ever so slightly.
His head jerked violently. His eyes were squeezed closed. His lips began to flutter. “God’s moving! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! I feel God moving in this room! I feel the presence of Jesus! He’s here with us! The Son is here! In Jesus’ name. In Jesus’ name. Thank you, Jesus.” His words trailed off in a whisper.
At this very moment, a circle of soft whitish light descended upon Rogers. It was eerie. He was totally enveloped in the phenomena. He began to speak in tongues: “mumamu-mumamu-mumamu-mumamu-mumamu-mumamu-bahbahbahbibah bah.”
The same band of light expanded and covered Sister Ruth and Reverend Donald Sutter. They, too, began uttering strange sounds. (Acts 2:4)
Rogers arose but continued to speak in tongues. The others followed suit. He placed his Bible on Karen’s head and held it there. She stood silently. Her eyes were closed. Sutter and Sister Ruth placed both hands over the Bible. All three were as if in a trance. Their shoes squished in the sticky blood around Karen. Suddenly Rogers shouted, “I have the power of Jesus Christ! Jesus is with me!”
“Yes, yes–don’t say that name! I hate that name,” snarled Mariana. “Stop it! Stop it! Please stop! I hate Jesus! I want nothing to do with Jesus!”
“You hate Jesus! I love Jesus–Jesus is wonderful. Jesus is wonderful-Jesus is wonderful.” Rogers continued his chant until the demon interrupted him.
“I want to leave,” wailed Mariana. “Let me go! Let me go in peace. Please, I’m ready to get out!”
“Go then, demon! I command you to get out in Jesus’ name!” replied Rogers. “Release this child. In Jesus’ name, depart! On the third such command, balls of steaming spittle flew from Karen’s mouth. Some particles landed on Sutter’s arms. He flinched. The liquid gobs were fiery hot and raised a multitude of tiny blisters.
“Okay! Okay! I’m going! This is too much! I’m going!” shouted Mariana. Karen’s eyes betrayed the demon’s fright. The voice from within belied desperation. She jumped backwards and sat down in her chair. Her mouth involuntarily flew open. There was no noise, no sound, and no movement.
A flood of thick green bile erupted from Karen’s nose and drooled down her lips and chin. She remained silent. Sister Ruth began to wipe the little girl’s face with a towel. The ugly slime kept on coming. Then it stopped as it had started–instantaneously. Karen leaned back and her face untensed. Her muscles relaxed. She took a deep breath, sighed and smiled. Karen Kingston bad been delivered of her eighth fiendish guest.
It was now 6:31 p.m. A rest period was in order.
JEANNE—THE NINTH DEMON
Thou believest that there is one God; thou doest well; the devils also believe, and tremble. James, 2:19
Sunday, 14 April 1974, 7:00 p.m. Exorcism Time: 1 hr. 52 min.
Reverend Richard Rogers–along with Donald Sutter, Sister Ruth, and Father Tyson–began this session by praying quietly. Their combined voices no more than a whisper. When they finished, Rogers read some scripture about fleeing from the Devil and cleaving to the Lord.
After ten minutes of this, Karen became wide eyed and hysterical. Her whole body shook uncontrollably and her eyes glazed. Those two dead staring orbs betrayed the tortuous demonic forces still holding her in subjection. She actually appeared to me to be little better off now than she was before we had started the day before.
Rogers and Sutter preached Jesus to her. Sister Ruth chanted in a whisper. Father Tyson laid on hands and prayed over her in Jesus’ name. Karen’s eyes remained blank and cold. Then they slowly began to change. There was no color evident, just a whitish-gray mass. Rogers called the others over to see this.
Everyone except the four prayer warriors seemed bewildered. Dr. Julian Pershing scratched his head. He had a look of complete puzzlement. He again made his classic declaration, one he had used a number of times before: “This simply can’t be! It’s physiologically impossible! It simply can’t be.” But there was still much more to come.
A few more minutes passed. We all realized that Karen Kingston was no longer with us. She seemed not to hear a word pastor Rogers or the others were saying. There was absolutely no response from within, and no reaction from without. She suddenly sagged in the chair and slumped over as if in a faint. Rogers felt that at this point the demon quietly took full control again.
Richard and the others continued praising the Lord and calling on Jesus. Karen stirred! She was again indicating signs of life. She started struggling in the chair. Words tumbled out in a mumble: “No, no, no, n-o-o-o-o-o-o, I will not go with you. You are bad, you are evil, help me, help me. Oh, please help me.”
Sister Ruth was at Karen’s side. She called her husband in for a closer look at Karen’s eyes. The whitish-gray cloud-like mass was slowly beginning to clear. Yes, there was a distinct physical phenomenon taking place. It looked much like water clearing up after having been stirred with a little mud. Then, still slowly, color began to appear in both of Karen’s eyes. But this was certainly not the pretty brown Karen’s eyes had been before the clouding.
Amazingly enough, one, the right, was now a bright purple. The other a brilliant silver. Pershing merely stood there with his mouth hanging open. He was in temporary shock. What could the man of medicine say!
Rogers led the other three praying partners in singing a variety of religious songs. At the words “Jesus,” “Christ,” “God,” and “blood,” Karen’s diabolical inhabitants seemed to become infuriated. Different demons interrupted each other as curse words spewed forth from the little waif’s open but unmoving mouth. Then, one particularly cruel-edged, threatening voice drowned out the other demons, “There are still five of us in here and not one of us can say we appreciate what you are doing! You are playing with fire! Let me tell you, it can be dangerous! You may get badly burned!”
The demon’s voice was low and guttural, almost rasping. It was filled with loathing. “You no doubt would like to know who I am. I thought I might as well inform you, you’ll only ask me anyway. I am Jeanne, a spirit of lustfulness. And, I might add for the record, that I am a dear friend of the bitch, Mariana.”
Karen’s arm slowly raised. Her index finger flicked straight out and first pointed right at Sister Ruth. Then it slowly moved until Karen pointed in turn at the two nurses in attendance, Peggy and Joyce. The newly identified demon continued. There was a long pause between each of her words: “I—hate—all–of—you—whores! I—despise—women! I—even—hate—you—Rogers! I—know—well—who—you—are! We—have—battled—many—times—before!”
“It really doesn’t matter how you feel,” answered Rogers. He was firm and self-assured. “How you may feel doesn’t bother any of us one bit. We don’t care what you think or how you happen to feel about us, personally. You’re totally evil! Yes, devil, I do know who you are. I know you very well.”
Reverend Rogers later explained that he believed the demon and he did know each other. He recalled that they had had confrontations a number of times, when he had successfully cast it out of other possessed women. But this was not unusual in any effective deliverance ministry. Jeanne, he remembered, had used a variety of other names in the past: Goddess of this World, the Great Red Dragoness, Queen of Evil, Princess Satanese, the Luster, Madame Orgy, Juliana, Jeanne the Wench, etc.
The names often changed but the evil entity remained the same. Richard could always tell when they met. To him it was all so simple–he had been blessed with the gift of spiritual discernment. (1 Corinthians 12:1, 10) Rogers changed his tack and commanded, “Take a pen or pencil and write something for me!”
After only a short hesitation, Jeanne, the demon did just that. As she proceeded to write, Rogers asked, “If you despise women so strongly, then why do you dwell in this girl?” The question went unanswered until Jeanne completed her writing task.
Now she responded to the question posed to her by Reverend Rogers. “So I can go after men. I’ve had lots of men. I’ve been around for a long, long time.” The answer was defiant. She was becoming belligerent.
“If you so despise women, then why just possess females?” Rogers queried. “Why haven’t you dwelled in men as well! Couldn’t you do this to your advantage?”
“I have done this, you fool!” Jeanne spoke to Rogers in a chiding tone. She began telling of her conquests. No one interrupted. It was all too astounding. “The Marquis de Sade of France was one of my prize pupils. Why do you think this man paid women to beat him with nail-studded, bloody whips? He was degrading them, that’s why!”
Karen looked at Joyce and gave her a diabolical grin. The demon’s words were now aimed at her. “Bet you’d go for some of that, huh? Come on baby, you can tell me. Wouldn’t you love to whip a man? You do like sex, don’t you baby?”
Joyce reddened and looked away in disgust. She said nothing. Jeanne then continued her dissertation: “Who do you think controlled Jack the Ripper in London? He worked for me! You do know, of course, that Jack was a master at cut-throat murder! He did a grand job on Mary Nicholls in 1888. She was but one of six known victims who suffered the consequences of Jack’s sharp blade. I can tell you–there were a lot more, a whole lot more killings the police never knew Jack committed.”
“How about Albert De Salve, the sadistic pervert who became famous as ‘the Boston Strangler? He happily committed many sexual atrocities for me. But only thirteen were tied to him. I made Albert a raving schizophrenic. The poor weak son-of-a-bitch never even remembered what he had done to those women, at least not until long after he was locked up.”
Rogers interrupted Jeanne. “That’s enough! we’ve heard enough! Be still!”
“Shut up! I’m not nearly finished.” Jeanne was emphatic. She had no intention of quitting. Her voice betrayed the enjoyment she was getting out of reliving these experiences. “Let me give you a more recent example. Take Charlie Manson. You may as well take that cocksucker. He’s of no further use to us now. I mean, what can that cocksucker do in a prison cell? Look how many cunts Charlie had in his harem.
Look at the beautiful murders they gleefully committed to please Charlie. Why, Charlie never even knew I was inside him. And those stupid cunts actually believed cocksucker Charlie was their savior! I personally controlled Manson. He was very important to all of us. A lot more of my more trusted and experienced associates handled Tex Watson and the others.
“Want to know the names of some of the women I’ve possessed? Remember Bonnie Parker from back in the 1930’s? I was the one who made that cunt so kill-crazy. She was also, thanks to us, a nymphomaniac. Poor old Clyde Barrow couldn’t give Bonnie enough sex. He got other guys to join his gang just so Bonnie could have more stiff cock.”
Jeanne paused momentarily and turned toward Donald Sutter. She smiled diabolically. “Get this Brother Sutter; or may I call you Donald? I got to Bonnie Parker even though her mother and father were so-called devout Baptists! Nobody except me really knows how many murders she and Clyde actually committed. I left Bonnie when she went and got herself killed. She was a stupid young cunt! I would have loved to have been able to use her body for awhile longer. But it never really matters much. There are so many others.
“Another good wench I was able to possess quite easily was named Cora McKown. You may not have heard of Cora. She loved her sex and could never get enough either. That woman got excited by being belt-whipped by her pussy-lapping lovers.
She was a masochist. Boy, was she ever beautiful! Cora was a sensuous wench in her early twenties when I finally won her over. She did a marvelous job on her husband,Tim. She stabbed him and then went and cut off his head and his hands. Why, my baby Cora even went to the trouble of hacking a mole off Tim’s right thigh! Wow! Was she ever a blast.
“Well, that’s it for now,” concluded Jeanne. “You don’t have to believe any of this. Check the facts for yourself. The last one mentioned, Cora, was only back in 1963. It all took place in Virginia. Anyway, I’m done talking about all of my escapades. There are many, many more, but I don’t want to make you think I’m bragging. I’m not!”
Everyone remained silent for about a minute after Jeanne stopped talking. No one knew what to say. We were all stunned at the revelations that had so readily funneled from little Karen’s mouth. Who under such circumstances, but a demon, could so fluently rattle off case after case of blood and terror?
Sister Ruth was the first to speak. She looked right into Karen’s eyes and asked a surprising question, “Did you ever see Jesus Christ?”
“Yes, of course I have. I saw him many centuries ago,” came the immediate response.
“Where did you see Jesus?” Sister Ruth continued.
“Don’t keep repeating that name!” shouted Jeanne. “I hate it! I hate it! I refuse to stand for this!”
“Where was it you claim to have seen Jesus?” interrupted Rogers. “I ask you, demon of darkness and despair, where have you seen Jesus? I command you to answer in His name!”
“Okay, okay. So I saw the man you mention when he was walking around in Palestine. I was in a prostitute at the time. I hated him then and I hate him now! He personally made me leave that woman.”
“Do you really hate Jesus?” asked Rogers, hiding his surprise at Jeanne’s last statement. He repeated,”Do you really hate Jesus? Or are you afraid of him?”
The question was ignored. There was a long pause. Then Jeanne reacted. Her voice was scornful: “I’ve already answered that. Don’t waste my time! I want to tell you more important things about myself.”
“Go ahead,” replied Rogers.
“Do you remember the case of the woman in Samaria?” Jeanne’s voice was calm again. “The woman who told God’s son that she had no husband (John 4:7, 17)! Well, I was right there at the time. I happen to have been in that Samarian woman. But I got out of that situation in a hurry. I wasn’t about to fight with him. Besides, there were plenty of other people available who weren’t unhappy to have me in them. So, I moved around quite a bit in those trying days. Things weren’t too stable for awhile.”
Rogers was persistent. He went back to his original unanswered question. “Do you really hate Jesus Christ?” Sutter and Tyson now followed with the same question. Sister Ruth then asked.
Karen became watchful and edgy. Her eyes shifted quickly, from one area of the room to another. There was no place to hide herself. Jeanne finally whimpered a hesitant, “No.”
“But do you fear Jesus?” challenged Rogers.
“Yes, yes; why do you torment me in this way?” Karen’s eyes welled up with tears. Sobs were blended with the demon’s frightened words. “After all, I’ve done no wrong. I’ve done no worse than any of you.”
Jeanne stopped talking. Karen’s eyes dried. There was an extended period of silence. Then Jeanne’s tone became contentious, as Karen scanned each of us in turn, “You so-called Christians are certainly far from perfect! Let me give you an example. You do remember David? Will you admit that this creep in your Bible was no more than a pervert?Of course, you won’t! But you can, if you wish, read all about this low creature in the book of Samuel if you aren’t afraid of facing the truth!” [Referring to 2 Samuel 11:2-37]
“What do you mean, David was a pervert?” asked Father Tyson, his interest zooming. “How was David perverted?”
“You probably would already know if you seriously read your Bible,” responded the evil entity. She was now caustic. Karen’s eyes locked with Tyson’s. “But, then, so many of you Catholics ignore what you want to ignore, and change what you want to change.”
This statement incensed Father Tyson. His eyes snapped. He turned red and then raised his voice, “What do you mean by ‘you Catholics’? You are a liar–a demonic liar! Satan allows you no light of the truth!”
Jeanne was amused. She chuckled diabolically. The demon had scored again by catching someone off guard. She had succeeded in making Tyson lose his composure. Karen glanced over at Sutter and Jeanne continued: “I’ll tell you all about David! He was a peeping tom! [Referring to 2 Samuel 11:2-37] Did you know that? And he was also a murderer [Referring to 2 Samuel 11:3, 15, 17] Did you know that? He used to get up after every one else was in bed asleep. He’d sneak up on the roof in order to peek in the windows of his neighbors.”
“You’re lying! You’re lying!” charged Father Tyson. He was visibly upset–his hands were shaking. Reverend Rogers tried to intervene. He now realized, for the first time, that Tyson obviously wasn’t familiar with the Bible story.
But his efforts were to no avail. The demon was in her glory. Father Tyson was by now so angry that he couldn’t control himself. He again challenged Jeanne. “You know you are lying! We all know you are lying! I won’t listen to any more of this horrendous blasphemy!”
The derisive laughter coming from deep within Karen now blanketed the room. Jeanne got Sister Ruth’s attention and gleefully chortled, “It’s true. It’s true. Good old David turned on by snatching a peek at a naked woman while she was taking a bath. It’s all in that book you all claim to read so much. It’s all right there in black and white. Read it for yourself, damn you! Read it Tyson, read it!”
Sister Ruth caught Richard’s eye. She dropped her head and began to whisper a prayer. She wouldn’t respond directly to the demon’s charges.
Karen’s head swiveled around. She glared defiantly, again directly at Father Tyson. Then her eyes twinkled. The demonic entity burst out in another fit of ungodly laughter. But the Catholic priest wasn’t in a humorous mood. He had been, and still was being, made a complete fool of by this fiend. He felt humiliated and totally frustrated.
Evangelist Sutter went over and lovingly put his arms around Father Tyson’s shoulders, but kept his mouth shut. He was wise enough to know that any comment at this point would only add more fuel to Jeanne’s already raging fire. Sutter was merely trying to give Tyson his moral support.
Jeanne continued, “Have you read the good book, Brother Tyson? I would venture to say that this pervert probably jerked himself off while he watched that sexy broad strip. I wouldn’t put it past old David. After all, we all know he was perverted! That fact can’t be denied!”
Tyson couldn’t respond to the demonic attack. He had been soundly defeated and he knew it. Rogers, Sister Ruth, and evangelist Sutter were all aware of what Jeanne was trying to accomplish. She was going all out to veer them off course, to detract them from the only important issue at hand. Rogers began where he had left off, by asking Jeanne, “Do you fear Jesus Christ? You admitted before that you were afraid of Jesus. You know that I have the power of Jesus, don’t you demon? Jesus is going to oust you, demon!”
John Tyson turned away from the group. He was almost in tears. The humbled Catholic priest lurched across the room. He was so thoroughly shaken by the past events that he was of no further value in the exorcism. In fact, had he stayed nearby, he could have been a detriment, the weak link in the powerful chain of faith. He picked up his Bible and began thumbing through Samuel.
In the meantime, Reverend Rogers joined hands with Sutter and Sister Ruth. In unison this time, they began a rhythmic cadence: “We have the power of Jesus! We have the power of Jesus! We have the power of Jesus!” It continued without interruption for three full minutes.
The demon made Karen shudder. Then Jeanne spoke, this time more wary and less argumentative. “Yes, yes, I know. I don’t want to hear that name. I can’t stand that name. I hate it. It scares the shit out of me!”
“I love Jesus, I love Jesus, I love Jesus,” the three chanted, their hands still joined. They then began ‘pressing Jesus’ by rapidly repeating his name–over and over and over and over. This was immediately followed by another sing-song chant, “Jesus, wonderful Jesus. Jesus, wonderful Jesus. Jesus, wonderful Jesus.”
‘Pressing Jesus’ is a term commonly used in charismatic circles to denote a specific situation in which a group or an individual enthusiastically chants the name of Jesus. Pressing Jesus is undertaken in a concentrated effort to lift the spiritual level of a service, to set the desired mood, to bring the Spirit of God more strongly to the forefront.
“I want to go! Let me leave this house! I’m ready,” wailed the demon. It now sounded thoroughly confused, tormented, and weakening. There was little spunk left.
“I command you to depart from this girl, now, in Jesus’ holy name!” exclaimed Rogers. Both hands held his well-worn Bible to Karen’s head. He then repeated the order.
Sutter raised one hand toward heaven, placed the other on Karen’s bowed head. He spoke: “Depart in Jesus’ name. Depart demon! The blood of Christ is upon you! Depart!”
Sister Ruth was kneeling nearby. Quiet tears poured down this devout woman’s cheeks. She was murmuring, “Jesus, free this child, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” Her prayers were unceasing.
One could feel the Herculean presence of evil hovering in the room. It is hardly possible to describe the torment that little Karen was going through. Rogers dropped to his knees and again commanded the demon to immediately leave. Karen’s hands grabbed for her throat as she began to choke. There was much gasping and a hacking cough, interspersed with sickly gurgling sounds.
Karen’s pale face began turning blue. Veins popped out in her temples, but still she sat. Finally, the child gave off a muffled scream. Relief came almost instantly. It was felt throughout the room. The protruding veins receded. She squinted, then tightly closed her eyes. We could all see her eyeballs rolling around like marbles under their lids. This continued for at least a full sixty seconds. Then her eyelids began to flutter spasmodically. They flew open. It was another miracle. The strange, ghoulish colors had disappeared. Both the purple right eye and the silver left eye had again changed. Both were now a beautiful, natural-looking crystal green.
The bluish hue slowly drained from Karen’s face. Rogers turned and announced, “It’s done. It’s finished. Praise Jesus, we have won this battle.”
Jeanne, the demon of lust, was finally gone, never to return again. As soon as the demon had been successfully cast out of Karen, the hapless little girl dozed off in her chair.
It was now 8:52 p.m. We quit for the day.
THE THIRD DAY
Monday: 15 April 1974
ENVY-THE TENTH DEMON
And the seventy returned again with joy, saying, Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through thy name. St. Luke, 10:17
Monday, 15 April 1974, 7:00 a.m. Exorcism Time: 1 hr. 57 min.
We faced the morning with a combination of fear and morbid curiosity. Two days of this unearthly experience had taken its toll. But we had no time to speculate on what the next few hours would bring.
As soon as Karen Kingston was brought into the room and placed in her chair, she fell into a trance-like state. It was as if the child were in a deep slumber. She remained this way for approximately ten minutes. Meanwhile, Reverend Rogers, evangelist Sutter, Father Tyson, and Sister Ruth joined hands and prayed over her. Near the end of the fervent prayer session, Karen awoke with a start and surprised us all by grabbing for one of the pens.
It had to be a force, a spirit, or something other than Karen doing this writing because, as far as we knew, she was still unable to do it herself. No one dared say anything for fear of distracting her. We all stood back and watched. It was awesome to say the least. Karen switched the pen from hand to hand, first writing a line with it held in her right hand, then a line while holding it in her left hand.
The diabolical entity appeared to thoroughly enjoy writing about itself and the other spirits. Karen continued writing, switching from hand to hand, and mentioned all of the other demons by name, including number six, which had to this point remained anonymous. T hat one was now revealed to be known in the spiritual world as “Mother Divine.” We could also read how Mother Divine “had always enjoyed bragging about how important she was.”
“Who are you?” was the first question Rogers asked when Karen had finally put the pen back down on the table. “In Jesus’ name, who are you, demon?”
“A good spirit–you should know me even better than you did Jeanne,” cooed the soft feminine voice. Her tone was one of familiarity. “Remember me? I was in your church once. We talked. I was in the red-haired bitch–the one with the ugly teeth! Do you remember now?”
Before Rogers could reply, the sultry voice changed to one of cool contempt. “I am Envy. E–n–v–y. Got that, preacher?” The demon had both given her name and then spelled it out. She was only the second spirit to do this. Wellesley, the fourth demonic entity, had also spelled out his name. Envy then followed this with a spasm of uncontrollable chuckling, and a few choice curse words.
“Yes, I do know you,” replied Rogers. He was still calm and collected; after all, this was not the first demon to make such a claim. Jeanne had just done the same thing. And the hundreds of previous exorcisms he had undertaken had conditioned him thoroughly. Little seemed to really ever shake this iceberg of a man. “Ruth also knows you, demon, but that is beside the point right now. I would like to know why you wrote with both hands.”
Envy ignored the direction Rogers was trying to take. Her voice became friendlier, more intimate. “But I would rather discuss our previous meeting. I’d like to talk about you and your church members. There are things I can reveal to you about all of them. Here’s something I’ll bet you were not aware of–your co-pastor has been stealing some of the tithe money. Why, that sly rascal even sneaks a nip now and then. Why, that hypocrite has been slipping around with… .”
“Stop! In the name of Jesus, stop!” shouted Rogers. “I’ll hear no more of this trite hearsay. I want to know why you so readily wrote with both hands?”
He was momentarily taken aback by the demon’s vicious response. “God damn it! You let everybody else in here write. Why shouldn’t I have the same opportunity? I can’t stand to be pushed into the background. The others are always trying to hold me down. Why do you think they call me Envy? I’m sick and tired of being considered second rate! I have power too, you know. In fact….”
Rogers interrupted her with, “I think you should get out of this girl. Karen doesn’t really want you inside of her. You have no choice in the matter. Jesus is going to force you and all the others to move out. You know this, don’t you Envy? Envy, answer me truthfully, you know this?”
“You think you’re all so god-damned good!” Envy became irritable. Her voice showed a great deal of bitterness. She was by no means resigned to losing her formerly comfortable home in Karen Kingston.
“No one but God is good,” responded Rogers in a quiet tone. “No one but the Lord Jesus is good.”
This remark was disregarded by the demon, who was still terribly upset. She went on, “You think you are so damned good; yet there you stand, showing your kindness, your love, by constantly torturing and tormenting me!”
Envy paused. She was gaining momentum and getting more vehement. “You are trying to take away my home! Do you call this good? Is this fair?”
“Jesus is good, Jesus has full authority over you,” explained Rogers. “There is no place in God’s child, this holy vessel, for a demon.”
“Maybe you think so,” replied Envy. Her voice was still an angry tone, but there was now a hint of fear evident. She was defensive. “You keep saying ‘good’ but I can only remind you of what Jeanne said about David. He was sick, you know, sick in the head. But I’m not going to harp on that. There were plenty of others who….”
“Jesus is good!” interjected Evangelist Donald Sutter.
“Oh, shut the fuck up and let me finish,” snarled Envy. “As I was saying, there were plenty of others who….”
“Praise Jesus! Praise His holy name!’ shouted Sutter. Karen leaped up our of her chair and slapped him across the face. The force of her blow sent the two hundred and ninety-eight pound Baptist preacher tumbling across the floor. Such strength was unbelievable for a skinny sixty-three-pounder. Before Rogers or anyone else could react, the tiny girl had already sat back down.
Again she started talking. The fear was no longer there. The physical action she made Karen take against Sutter had reintroduced her ire. But Envy did sound tired. “Now, as I was saying before that ugly fat man so rudely cut in, there were plenty of others who were just as bad as David. How about that guy Amnon who got so hot and bothered over his own sweet sister that he raped her? [Referring to 2 Samuel 13: 2, 11-12,l4] Or that jerk Absalom!
He had a sex orgy with ten different women at the same time! And in public no less! [Referring to 2 Samuel 15:16-17; 16:21-22] How about Lot? That son-of-a-bitch screwed his own daughters, two of them! [Referring to Genesis 19:30-36] Or Tamar? That girl made it with her father-in-law! [Referring to Genesis 38:13-16, 18] Or Jacob?
He made wild, passionate love to his wife’s sister on his wedding night! [Referring to Genesis 29:20-21, 23, 25] Or Abram? He screwed around on Sarai! [Referring to Genesis 26:14] I could go on and on. It’s all right there in your good book!”
“Jesus is good! Jesus has authority over you!” repeated Rogers. He ignored Envy’s previous tirade. He knew she was correct. It was all written in the Bible, in God’s word. But he was not going to argue over it with a demon. He realized that this was but another diversionary tactic. It had worked on Father John Tyson.
The Catholic priest stayed completely out of this situation. He had been severely taught an important lesson during the previous exorcism. Tyson was now a little more cautious, and more than a little afraid.
Again Rogers declared, “Jesus is good. Jesus has full authority over you! There is no place here for you, Envy. You must leave, in Jesus…”
Envy’s shrill scream broke through and stopped Rogers in mid-sentence. She was still trying hard to get him off course. Her last attempt hadn’t worked very well. Perhaps thinking that more gossip would hit closer to home, she tried, “I can tell you some interesting things about the people in this room.
I can really give you some hot secrets. Want to know all the things about the people in this room? I can really give you some hot secrets. Want to know all the things about the sex life of Peggy Welch? Those colored girls are really something! I can even tell you things about holier-than-thou Sutter, and that Tyson guy who plays at being a priest. How about that psycho-psychiatrist? Maybe good old Doc Pershing? Let’s see, where should I start? Joyce Donaldson loves to…”
Rogers and Sister Ruth cut in on the demon’s harangue. Practically in unison they said, “I rebuke you in Jesus’ name! I rebuke you in Jesus’ name!”
Reverend Rogers then followed with, “You are a spiteful, fabricating creature of Satan! Go back from whence you came! In the name of Jesus–leave.”
Karen burst into a strange babbling. It was a familiar sound, quite similar to speaking in tongues. But the gibberish soon stopped. Envy’s voice became harsh and jerky. The words she was trying to form wouldn’t come out. Karen began to choke and desperately tried to swallow. A large lump had appeared in her throat. It bobbed up and down, up and down.
Envy’s voice, full of hatred, now erupted from Karen’s lips. She threatened, “I’ll kill her when I come out! I’ll take away her breath! I am going to murder this child!”
The demon was screaming by this time, totally defiant. “She is going to die. I’ll show you! I am going to kill her!”
“You have absolutely no power over God’s children,” Rogers said, softly, but firmly, “I command you to stop hurting this child! Release your hold on her throat in Jesus’ name!” Karen relaxed slightly.
“Leave now! Leave quietly! I command you in Jesus’ name, go out of her!”
“You are hurting me, torturing me! Do you believe in torturing?” Karen had relaxed once more. The demon’s words were a plea. “Why torture me? I’ve done nothing to you. I need a drink of water. I’m so thirsty. Will you get me some water? Please, just a small amount?” Rogers shook his head, no.
Karen looked up at him, her eyes tear-filled and desperate. She wet her lips. Envy’s voice continued on as before. She was begging, “Please go and get me a drink of nice cold water? Then I’ll talk to you about leaving. I promise. Just a little cold water, please?”
“We’ll talk about nothing!” replied Rogers. He waved away Dr. Emery who was walking toward him with a glass of water. Rogers wasn’t trying to be cruel. He sensed victory. He knew the water ruse was a last ditch ploy on Envy’s part. “You can have no water, demon! You are going to leave this minute!”
“Wait, please wait. I’m in a great deal of agony.” Karen grimaced and shuddered. “It’s unfair. I haven’t harmed this girl. She’s a silly fool, but I haven’t harmed her!”
“Shut up demon! Be silent! In Jesus’ name be silent!” Not one more word will you speak from this girl’s body!” The demon obeyed. It became silent.
Rogers was gaining strength. He felt the power of God sweep over him. He said later that his hands were tingling as if an electrical charge were passing through them. Ten widely spread fingers grasped Karen’s head. She flinched. A moan of agony came from deep within.
Richard continued “I take complete authority over you by the power vested in me by Jesus Christ. I take complete authority over you on the blood of Jesus Christ. Leave demon, in Jesus’ name, leave.” And upon this final command, Envy quickly and quietly exited.
We all gathered around Karen. She grinned. Dr. Pershing did a double take! He motioned to Fromme and Emery. Peggy and Joyce crowded closer, too. Karen’s teeth appeared to have pulled together and straightened themselves out. Her gums were no longer receding, puffy, or a sickly white. It was but another one of many miracles to take place during these three days of sheer horror.
Had God mysteriously moved again? Reverend Rogers and Sister Ruth had no doubts, nor did Donald Sutter. Father Tyson was on the brink of believing. How could he logically deny what he had witnessed? Carol and Joyce, the two nurses, now accepted it as fact.
Yes, they both felt that it had to be God’s power. Doctors Emery, Fromme, and Pershing couldn’t yet admit to the healing as a divine miracle. It wasn’t covered in their scientific books and journals. It could have been psychosomatic.
Dr. Pershing stood quietly off to one side, his head slowly shaking in wonderment. His standard argument, the same point he made previously, was again flashing through his mind, “it’s physiologically impossible.” But this time many other thoughts were also bouncing around inside his head. “Could this all be simply coincidence?
Could God have moved on this young girl in an effort to teach us all something? So, it may well be entirely psychosomatic. But what better, more natural method for the Lord to heal?”
It was now 8:57 am. A rest period was in order.
KING OF THE HOUSE—THE ELEVENTH DEMON
MERVIN—THE TWELFTH DEMON
And he asked him, What is thy name And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many. St. Mark, 5:9
Monday, 15 April 1974 9:15 a.m. Exorcism Time: 3 hrs., 11 min.
The formidable Richard Rogers discerned that there were still more demons in control of retarded Karen Kingston. (1 Corinthians 12:1, 10) According to Jeanne, the ninth entity, there were three more yet to be expelled. This was further verified by Envy, the tenth evil spirit, who had written down the names of all the rest.
Rogers, over the last two days, had become even more convinced that little Karen’s retardation was undoubtedly caused by her demonic possession. So much had already transpired to help verify his belief. He felt certain that the most powerful demon, or demons, were still maintaining a tenacious hold on the frail girl.
Richard didn’t waste any time in getting started. He ordered the satanic forces to come forth and speak to him. An almost syrupy sweet male voice responded with a friendly, “Hello pal. How’s it going today?”
“Who is this speaking?” asked Rogers.
“It’s me, King of the House.” The evil entity sounded nonchalant, as if he were settling down for a long, unpressured conversation.
Rogers immediately came back with, “Are you alone in this girl? Are there others in her with you?”
“I am never alone.”
“Who’s in there with you, demon?”
“None of your god-damned business!” King of the House never raised his voice. He still sounded unafraid, unperturbed.
“I command you to tell us,” interjected Sutter the Baptist. “By the blood of Jesus Christ, you must answer our questions!”
“Who the heck are you?” responded King of the House with a chuckle. He still seemed unconcerned. “Just who in the heck do you think you are? You want another belt in the snot locker? Mind your manners, boy.”
“You know this man,” replied Rogers, “and you surely know who I am. We are two of God’s children. I am filled with the Holy Ghost. I am close to Jesus. You must answer! Who is in there with you, demon?”
“Oh, what the heck. A dull bitch who calls herself Prudence and an inane bastard who goes by the handle of Mervin.” The voice became slightly resigned. Karen gave a sigh.
“Who are they?”
“She’s a witless sickness wench and he’s a slobbering idiot! Neither one of them has a lick of sense,” responded King of the House. He perked up, “I can’t stand either one of them! They’re dull and lacking in imagination.”
“I thought that you demons were all supposed to stick together?” questioned Sutter.
“And I thought I told you to mind your manners!” retorted King of the House.
“Well, King of the House, aren’t you all supposed to stick together?” asked Rogers.
“We do,” said the same friendly voice. King of the House sounded surprised that Reverend Rogers would have thought otherwise. “But that doesn’t mean we have to like each other. Does it? Well, does it?”
“I want to talk to the other two,” responded Rogers.
King of the House cautiously explained: “Mervin doesn’t look very talkative. In fact, he seems to be sort of pouty. Prudence says she feels ill and doesn’t exactly have much desire to yak with you right this minute.”
Rogers then began to converse directly with the two incommunicative demons. He told them both that he was aware of their presence. He then commanded either one or both of them to speak. Immediate resistance could be felt throughout the room. It began to feel cold and damp.
“Are you dumb spirits? Is King of the House right about you? Are you ignorant, uninteresting spirits?” Rogers proceeded to mock the diabolical entities, to make fun of them.
Karen sat in brooding silence.
“In Jesus name, I command you to speak!”
There was a continued hush in the room. Rogers was being completely ignored by the demons.
Then, laughing, Rogers leaned over and whispered in Karen’s ear. “You must be ignorant demons. We certainly know this now. You aren’t able to hold an intelligent discussion. You can’t talk! Dumb! Dumb! Dumb! You can’t speak, but Jesus could. Jesus was much smarter than the both of you combined.”
“What are your names, O evil ones inside this beautiful child; what are your names?” asked the Baptist Sutter. “We want to get to know you all better. Tell us your names and then also tell us what we want to know about you.”
One demon answered. Its voice was feminine and dripped with sarcasm. It had to be Prudence. “What is your name, O great fat man posing as a preacher. What is your name, O fat man with the enormous belly. Boy, are you ever a gigantic blob, or should I say slob? You’re disgusting!”
“By the blood of Jesus Christ,” charged Rogers, “reveal yourself this moment! By the sacred blood of Jesus, answer!”
Karen’s countenance changed to one of sternness. Her eyes sparkled with waves of anger, but the Satanic entities remained silent.
Rogers again came strongly against the demons. He yelled, “In Jesus’ name, I command you all to speak! I will keep repeating the name of Jesus until you do!”
“My name is Legion, for we are many. My name is Legion, for we are many. My name is Legion, for we…”
Karen threw back her head and howled with delight. Sutter paled and stepped back. Father Tyson clasped his hands together and began to pray in Latin. He, too, appeared to be afraid. Rogers quickly interrupted the demon. He knew that the Satanic spirit was trying to make a fool of him by quoting a little scripture (Mark 5:9).
Richard came back at the evil entity with: “If you are Legion, and you are many, then I shall do exactly as Jesus did and force you all to leave this child–whether you are one, or whether you are many. I remind you, demon, that Jesus did this when he sent the legion of devils out of the Gadarene” (Mark 5:13; Luke 8:38).
“But you are not that man you mention,” replied another masculine voice, this one more fearful and on guard. Prudence had withdrawn. “You do not have his power, nor the right to act as he did. You know this and I know this. But, just to soothe your savage, hate-filled nature, I have decided to tell you whatever it is you desire to know. What was it you wanted from me? What is your question? I am Mervin. I speak for Prudence and myself. We want you to leave our friend, King of the House, alone. Stop this silly game!”
“Stop what silly game?”
“Stop talking to us! Stop bothering us! Go away! We don’t like you!” The same demon, identifying himself as Mervin, was now responding in a low, sullen voice, as if trying to warn Rogers of some dire consequence in store.
“Then write something for me,” replied Rogers, “and I’ll not bother you for awhile.”
There was complete silence on the demon, Mervin’s, part. Nor did Prudence or King of the House respond.
“I command you, Mervin, to write for me. I do this by the authority given me by Jesus Christ, Savior of the world.”
Mervin growled back at Rogers. He said, “King of the House is illiterate! He’s so slow-witted that he can’t write or even draw pictures! He’s kind’a backward. But I’m not that kind of an idiot. King of the House may be! But I’m not! I’m certainly not of his lowly caliber.”
Karen took up one of the pencils. The demon, Mervin, using his power over the child, began to carefully draw out his letters. Mervin slowly spelled simple words as he slowly formed each alphabet character and joined them together. He finished and Karen put the pencil down.
The still friendly voice of King of the House again came to the forefront. “Mervin doesn’t wish to speak with you anymore. You insulted his intelligence. He’s hurt over this and is sorely perplexed with you. I’d advise you to leave him alone.
The overt threat was obvious. Rogers disregarded the warning. “Where are you from, King of the House?”
“I can’t reveal that to you,” he replied. “I’m not ever allowed to say. Besides, you already know where we’re all from. Please don’t push this line of questioning! I must warn you—do not ask such things of us!”
“Where?” challenged Rogers, “Where?”
“I cannot expound on this, I’m not allowed, it’s against the rules.” King of the House’s tone was somewhat weary. He was more fearful now and more than a little defensive.
“In the name of Jesus, you are required to answer me truthfully. You must….”
“You’re beginning to play unfairly! I’m beginning to despise this house!” interjected Mervin, suddenly joining King of the House in an argumentative tone. “I wish I had never come here! It’s starting to bug me!”
Well, then, where are you from, Mervin?” queried Rogers.
At this point, Karen became wild-eyed and began to whimper. She tried to slide off her chair but Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Sutter held her down. “Where, Mervin? Tell me, where do you come from?”
Mervin moaned as if he were suffering with some kind of terrible anguish. “I am not allowed to tell you! I cannot say! I have to answer for my actions, too, you know?”
“Satan forbids you to answer?” There was no further response.
“Does Beelzebub forbid you to reveal this information?”
“Yes! Yes!” wailed Mervin, now thoroughly shaken. His tone was one of resignation and despair. “I can say no more! But I can tell you that I am a specialist.”
“A specialist?” responded Father Tyson. He had been standing about twenty feet away, intently listening. The conversation had pricked his curiosity. He felt drawn back into the exorcism. The man in black moved closer.
“Oh, shut up,” replied Mervin. He was brusque. Karen’s head swiveled to the left and her eyes fell on the Catholic priest. “Who the hell do you think you are with such audacity? You are a rude son-of-a-bitch! I’m not talking to you, so keep your mouth shut and let us carry on an intelligent conversation! I warn you, Tyson, button your lip!”
Father Tyson hushed. He looked hopelessly over at Rogers. Mervin chortled, Don’t look at him! He can’t do anything to get you off the hook. Just keep your damned big nose out of this discussion. It doesn’t concern the likes of you!”
Then to Rogers: “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted–I’m a specialist. I was hand-picked by our leader for this particular job. And I will say, I think I’m pretty good in my specialty.”
“So you’re a specialist. A specialist in what area? Exactly what kind of a demon are you anyway?”
“Gosh, I thought you’d never ask,” joked Mervin. “Everyone in here knows me as the powerful one. I boss them all around. I even take their jobs over whenever I happen to feel a need for some diversion. It can be great fun. It’s especially nice since I can do anything, at any given time.”
“I have total authority over your leader,” emphasized Rogers. Jesus is the reason I have such authority. Satan or whoever it is you call him is my slave, just as he was the slave of Jesus Christ. I have authority over your master just as I have authority over you, demon. Therefore, I command you and King of the House both to leave this child’s body!”
There was complete silence. Another chill passed through the room. Karen appeared to be dumfounded. She blinked as if having difficulty seeing. Rogers continued: “I command you, in Jesus’ name, on His blood, to release this young girl from bondage. Depart from her, depart!”
Karen gasped. Mervin weakly replied, “I am so damned worn out. Let me rest for a moment, then I’ll be glad to go away. Just allow me a moment’s peace.”
He tried to withdraw, but Rogers would have none of that. He strongly sensed victory was close at hand.
“I’m beginning to get a horrible headache. Please wait, just for a few minutes. My head is about to split.” Karen clasped her head with both hands and sobbed. This time it was King of the House who was trying to swerve Rogers off course. His voice tone had changed. It was candled, “Please call the good Dr. Pershing over here. Let him help me. I really need to discuss my illness with him. If you won’t quit harassing us, then the least you could do would be to allow me to speak privately with the good doctor.”
Dr. Pershing, even after all he had already seen over the past two days, was still taken by surprise at the request made by King of the House. But the man did not lose his composure. Nor did the man of medicine make any overt effort to come any closer to Karen. He had witnessed too much, both in the spiritual realm as well as the physical. He was mulling over the situation: “I’ve personally witnessed numerous and astounding physical manifestations of these demons, if that is what they actually are in this child. So have all of the other professionals in this room.
Yet, can it be real? Nothing at all like this is covered in my medical texts. Imagine what it would sound like if I were to present this case to the AMA. Why, they’d laugh me right out of the business! But, then, it’s true, I have seen these physical changes, and yes, I did examine Karen before, during and after the various exorcisms. Yet, I still can’t bring myself to admit the physiological reality of such clear reversals in the child’s condition. No, it can’t logically be, but here it is in front of me staring me right in the face. God, oh God, help me to understand!”
Meanwhile, Rogers was continuing his verbal attack on the demons. He ignored Karen’s heartrending sobs. He ignored the pleas of King of the House. “You both know that you must go! I’m ordering you out!”
Richard appeared to be gaining new spiritual strength as the demonic entities noticeably grew weaker. He proceeded with the battle, “In Jesus’ name, come out, Mervin and King of the House! Both of you come out in the name of Jesus!”
“Okay, okay, I’m coming, I’m coming! I don’t like it in here anyway!” rasped Mervin. King of the House didn’t reply. “You’ve royally screwed everything up in here with that damned religious bigotry you keep spouting off! I’m leaving peacefully!”
And with these words, Karen’s mouth flew open. Her chest went into a slight pumping motion. Her Adam’s apple bobbed momentarily. She then began to gag. Her hands clutched for her throat as she shook and shivered.
Rogers again commanded Mervin to release her. The demon had broken his promise to go quietly. He tore from Karen with a shrill, ear-shattering scream. There was one last great convulsion. It picked Karen right up out of her chair and tossed her limply across the room. Rogers jumped to her aid, as did Sister Ruth, Sutter, and Tyson. They all helped the forlorn little girl to her feet. She stood there, limp, shaken and bewildered. We thought that Mervin had departed. But Rogers knew better. He had not yet gone!
“Well, you’ve won this time, preacher-boy,” sneered Mervin. He sounded disgusted at the outcome and resigned to his ultimate fate. Karen face was expressionless. “We’ll meet again, sooner or later! I’ll get even with you for this! You’ve almost got everybody out of here now. All that bossy garbage you’ve been throwing at us! I won’t stand for another minute of it. I don’t have to. Don’t worry, I’ll go, I’ll go. There are plenty of other places better than this one!”
Karen loudly belched three times and then began to cough as she sank back to the floor. Green slime filled her mouth. She gagged. Sister Ruth held a large towel to Karen’s lips and collected the gooey, malodorous mess. Peggy and Joyce rushed out of the room in search of a container. They soon came back and gave a large white metal pan to Sister Ruth. Karen kept spitting up more and more of the terrible smelling substance.
She’d unload huge gobs each time she retched. An almost continuous flow exited from her for eleven minutes. It was thick and sticky, much the same as mucus from a bad chest and head cold.
Finally it stopped. The metal pan was three-fourths full! Mervin was gone! This time it was different when Father Tyson approached Karen with his crucifix. She jumped up and roughly shoved Rogers aside. She kicked Sister Ruth in the face, then glared at the priest. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets. The whites were so enlarged that looked as if someone had glued two golf balls where the eyes should have been. She was grotesque and brimming with undiluted hatred for the Catholic priest.
As Karen’s gaze caught the eyes of six-foot-two-inch Tyson, a loud thump resounded throughout the room. Karen had not raised a hand. Yet Father Tyson was violently knocked down. He began to moan and roll around on the carpet with both hands clasping his abdomen. It was as if someone had drawn back a huge balled fist and punched the man in the stomach. The crucifix had flown from his hands. It now lay on the floor approximately ten feet from him.
Karen’s huge white eyes fell on the crucifix. Electrical energy appeared to be flowing out of her. We could actually see sparks emit from those hideous eyes. The crucifix moved! It bounced along the floor for a moment. It began to bend and twist as if it were made of soft rubber. The figure of Christ broke free. The hands, no longer nailed to the cross, tightly clasped the figure’s head. It looked as if Christ were in more agony at this point than when he had been cruelly spiked to the crucifix. Then, both the cross and the figure of Jesus disintegrated!
All during this horrifying episode, Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Sutter kept praying together. They had closely followed Karen’s movements and had their hands on her. She ignored them all as if they didn’t even exist.
Karen again twisted her face into that terrible diabolical grin. The demon in her seemed pleased. She turned, shoved the three praying partners out of her way, and walked back to her chair. Her arms were now folded across her chest as she sat down, looked toward her feet, and closed her eyes. Not a sound could be heard in the room, except for the gasping of Father Tyson. He was being aided by Dr. Pershing. Tyson was uninjured but was still trying to catch his breath.
A moment of tension passed. Rogers and the others were still praying, still commanding King of the House to depart, their hands once again on Karen. Time seemed to stand still. Then, all of a sudden, Karen’s eye-lids flickered open. Her eyes were back to normal!
The swelling had disappeared! She appeared to have unwound. A beautiful smile came to her lips as she looked up at Rogers, Sister Ruth, and Sutter. King of the House had slipped away unnoticed.
It was now 12:26 p.m.. We all took a break for lunch.
PRUDENCE—THE THIRTEENTH DEMON
… .at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth and things under the earth. Philippians, 2:10
Monday, 15 April 1974, 2:30 p.m. Exorcism Time: 4 hrs., 13 min.
Reverend Richard Rogers knew that he had one more demonic entity to coax out of Karen. He was able to discern the final powerful evil force still within her–in control of the innocent little girl’s life. “it must be ‘Prudence’” he mused. She had been previously identified by King of the House, and again later by Mervin. This Satanic soldier was supposed to be, according to King of the House, “a witless sickness wench.” Rogers was convinced that this fiendish demon would fight back fiercely, for total victory was now so close at hand.
Dealing with the other twelve demons had drained Richard of a tremendous amount of vitality. We were all close to exhaustion as a result of the almost unbearable tension over the past three terrifying days. His wife, Sister Ruth, was close to tears. But then, she cried readily when under any sort of emotional strain or spiritual experience. Evangelist Donald Sutter appeared awfully weary. He had shed some poundage. Doctors Emery, Pershing, Fromme and the two nurses, Peggy Welch and Joyce Donaldson, were bleary-eyed.
This was due to a combination of the unexpected pressures and the lack of a good night’s sleep. Father Tyson looked extremely fatigued as well. He, too, had lost weight and his eyes were sunken.
Rogers took a deep breath. He squared his shoulders and looked around the room. He was ready. He requested: “Everybody here who believes that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, please kneel and pray along with me.”
Rogers explained that he felt this action would help to relax little Karen and better prepare her for the final step-her complete recovery. Ten individuals kneeled, for who did not believe that Jesus died on the cross? Who did not believe what Jesus died for?
If there were any non-believers present, it was not readily evident. I could not help but wonder though, how many of these people kneeled because they really believed? How many kneeled because they did not want to leave and miss the grand finale!
The prayer Rogers intended to read, with slight modifications to suit this particular situation, was one often used by the internationally known healer-evangelist, Oral Roberts. Again, it was a prayer from my files, one kindly given me by Reverend Roberts. I had offered it to Richard as we chatted over lunch together. He felt the prayer was truly appropriate for the occasion.
Richard began the special invocation. Everyone present, except for Karen Kingston, dutifully recited the words of the prayer after him. It was either because they were now believers, or because they simply were fearful of contesting Satan’s destructive powers–if, in fact, this was Satan’s terrible work we had been witnessing over the last eleven exorcisms. Some were still not convinced–but no one was willing to risk the wrath of Lucifer. The words flowed easily and softly from Rogers’ lips:
“Devil, in the name of Jesus, take your hands off God’s property. God, this young girl who is trying to overcome her struggle with Satan, give her strength. Lord, supply little Karen Kingston’s needs today. Remember this girl who is desperate. Help her to say in faith, I believe in God. Though I am down, I am going to hold on. I will never quit praying and believing.
Now through Jesus Christ, be loosed!
Through Jesus Christ, be set free!
Through Jesus Christ, be healed!
Through Jesus Christ, become strong in the Lord!
Through Jesus Christ, overcome Satan’s wiles!
God, I ask this, and I believe it through your Son, Jesus, and I’m expecting this miracle because we are Your property. Amen and Amen.”
Rogers asked everyone to remain in the kneeling position. He concluded by reading more of Oral’s words: “I believe Jesus Christ. I believe He has come to fill me with His life, His love, His faith, His hope, His spirit, His power.” Ten other people repeated this supplication to God.
“I believe Jesus has come to bless me, to heal me, to prosper me, to guide me, to open me up in my inner man, to teach me to love and give, to plant seeds of faith–because–I am God’s property.”
This, too, was reverently evoked by all in attendance.
Then it was finished. The joint prayer session seemed to recharge the atmosphere. It did help Rogers to overcome his weariness. He appeared to be invigorated and eager to proceed. We could all feel the uncanny magnetism generated by this man of the cloth. Rogers read aloud certain scriptures concerning his God-given authority over demons. He then came against the last demon, first asking its name.
Satan’s representative answered immediately. She spoke in a low sensuous voice. Her tone was agreeable. The initial response was no surprise, “My name is Prudence. I am Prudence, the one the others told you so much about. Prudence is my name-Karen Kingston’s soul is my game!”
A sly chuckle escaped from Karen’s lips. She grinned at the slender man of God standing in front of her.
“Prudence?” replied Rogers, “that’s a funny name for a demon. What do you do? Is it true that you are a demon of sickness?”
“You will have to guess that,” she coyly whispered. Karen looked up and batted her eyes at Rogers. “But, listen carefully, I’m going to give you a clue.”
Prudence began reciting a poem:
“Prudence is my name, Karen Kingston is my game, I’m known widely for my fame, For I make people brainless and lame! So preacher man watch out, I have power you know nothing about, Get in my way, I’ll give you a clout, Right on the tip of your long pointed snout’.”
The demon, Prudence, then accurately quoted the Bible: “… he has a dumb spirit, and whenever it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid” (Mark 9: 1718).
“What does all of this imply?” asked Rogers.
“Don’t you ever read your Bible? You tell me what it means, dummy!” This derisive barb was accompanied by demure giggling, followed by a wink from Karen. Her tongue flicked out and she wet her lips languidly as she in turn looked over each man present. Her eyes slowly scanned each male from head to toe.
“I command you,” challenged Rogers, “to admit your purpose for being inside this little girl. In Jesus’ name, tell me exactly what you do, explain your purpose!”
Prudence became wary. This was evident when Karen began rubbing her hands together. She dropped her eyes. Her head cocked from side to side as if she were puzzled. Then the skittish voice of Prudence again was heard quoting another scriptural verse: “And a certain woman … had suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse” [Mark 5:25-26].
“And there he found a certain man named Aeneas, which had kept his bed eight years, and was sick….” This time Prudence had quoted part of Acts 9:33. She then asked, “Do you now get the picture, preacher man?”
Rogers did understand. So did everybody else. The point couldn’t have been clearer. But he pressed on, wanting an even more specific answer. “In Jesus’ name, reveal your purpose for being in this little girl! You are required to answer me!”
“Lots of trouble, I cause lots of trouble,” replied Prudence. She sounded pleased with herself. “I create a regular nest of trouble and problems. Plenty of sorrow and sickness and disease and pain. You know, the whole works!”
“Do you enjoy doing this to Karen?” queried Rogers. “Do you enjoy hurting this girl? How can you be so cruel?”
“I love cruelty!” responded Prudence. “We all love it. It’s our special calling, you know. It’s our thing!”
The evident relish in the demon’s voice was sickening. Rogers sharply replied, “I rebuke you in Jesus’ name! You are totally evil and must stop bothering this child!”
“I don’t have to!” screamed Prudence. “You can’t make me! You don’t have enough strength left to fight me after what you did to all the others who were in here with me.”
I caught Rogers’ eyes and motioned to him as a reminder to try to get this evil entity to write for us. He smoothly executed a new approach. “Oh, yes I do have the strength!You know I have the support of Jesus! I have Jesus Christ on my side! This is all I need to defeat you in the end! But, for the moment, I want you to do something else for me. I would like you to write. That is, if you are able to write!”
The demon made no comment. Karen reached for, and picked up, one of the pens. Surprisingly, she held the instrument in her left hand, instead of her right, as she had done on all previous occasions except for one. Envy, the tenth demon, had made Karen use both hands interchangeably. The pen glided roughly over the paper. Karen’s hand was noticeably shaking. The finished product was no more than a wavery scrawl.
Prudence mumbled about her afflictions, one of which she claimed was Parkinson’s disease. Another was arthritis. The sounds emitting from Karen’s unmoving lips were weak and quavering. They closely matched the uncoordinated script.
“You’re a deceptive demon,” charged Rogers. He chastised Prudence. “You’re trying to outfox me, but it won’t work! You don’t have Parkinson’s disease or anything else wrong with you!”
“Yes, I know,” answered Prudence, her voice now tinged with resignation, “but it’s all part of the game.”
“The game? What game?” asked Evangelist Sutter.
“Oh, just the game.”
“What game? Explain yourself! I don’t quite understand!” “Wow! You sure are thick-headed!”
“You must, in Jesus’ name, on His blood, tell me–what game?” Rogers persisted with Sutter’s line of attack.
“It’s all planned out. We have a planned strategy,” the diabolical entity revealed. “We know exactly what we are trying to accomplish: For instance, we are in almost complete control of this community.
“What do you mean by that statement?” queried Rogers. “What are you implying? Control this community? How can demons control a city?”
“That’s easy–we run it! We’ve got it all tied up! It’s as simple as that!” Prudence’s voice sounded confident. “There’s really nothing much you can do about it either!”
“But we’ve got numerous churches here and many Christians,” said Rogers, exhibiting a great deal of patience. “It’s basically a good city.”
“So? I’ve been in plenty of your churches,” responded the demon in an outburst of sarcasm. “They don’t bother any of us for the most part. Church people, as a whole, don’t even realize that we’re real. They don’t believe we are here, right under their holy-noses! Besides, we just want control. We want only to gain control of the churches. And I’ll say this–you can believe me–we’ve already taken almost complete control all over the world. You think this stinking town is any exception, preacher man?”
Rogers came back at the demon: “Do you take your orders from Satan?”
“Well, of course, we all do. He is our undisputed overlord. His power is dictatorial and absolute. He is Satan, the king of our world.”
Karen gave off a deep sigh. Prudence continued: “I really shouldn’t have answered that last question. But I guess it really doesn’t matter any more. I’m sure my master is going to severely punish me anyway. He always does when we are discovered. He gets angry when any of us loses our home. We all work under constant pressure. We never really have much time to rest. Our boss is forever pushing us. He constantly stresses the fact that there’s not much time left. I honestly wonder about that, though. The old boy’s been bitching about the same thing now for almost two thousand of your years. I really wonder sometimes.”
“Jesus will win over you in the end, you know,” Rogers continued, “Jesus will have the final victory. You are damned to this eternal fate. You must be aware of this! It’s part of God’s salvation plan for mankind. Victory for Jesus over Satan has been predestined by God! ”
“That all depends,” whispered Prudence sarcastically, “on what you mean by ‘victory.’ What exactly do you mean, preacher man? After all, we have uncountable victories!”
“Yes, you surely do,” agreed Rogers, “but you all are still going to be punished in the end. You see, your eternal destiny is ordained by God to be chains of darkness, a lake of fire. Do you call this a victory?”
“Well, I certainly will not be alone,” she responded, this time in a huff. “I’ll have lots of company, that’s for sure! You can’t deny this, preacher man!”
“I rebuke you in the name of Jesus!” Rogers was shouting. “You are a spiteful creature! You are no good, completely evil! You cause only harm to innocent people!”
“And some not so innocent,” chided Prudence. “Besides, that’s none of your damned business. This girl’s body is my home. I intend to stay here. I like living with her! She never upsets me, at least she never has made me feel uncomfortable, or unwelcome-until, that is, you started working on her and mixing the kid up!”
“You’re going to have to leave this child’s body today! Do you understand me?” Rogers was firm and unshakable. “You know of God’s power! You will have to soon depart!”
“Yes, I know that, but it won’t be easy for you or for this girl!” retorted the demon. “I have a strong hold on her. I guarantee you, it won’t be as easy as some of the others. I don’t fear your God as much as my allies did. They were all cowards! I’ll fight, damn you! I’ll give you a fight! You may even win the battle this time around—but be careful, be constantly on guard! I intend to return at the right moment!”
There was a long pause. Prudence’s tone became even more menacing. “Some time, someplace, we will meet again, preacher man. Maybe it won’t be in this girl–but be prepared, for we shall again meet in mortal combat. Just don’t ever forget how we took care of that god-damned nurse, Carol Petersen. Don’t you ever forget that name, my holy preacher friend!”
Prudence was persistent with her boisterous argument and declaration. But Rogers retained his composure. He never doubted his God-given authority over the demon. He had Jesus on his side. Rogers knew full well that Prudence was testing his faith in that supreme authority. He and his wife combined forces and began to come firmly against Prudence. They were joined in this last ditch effort by Father Tyson and Reverend Sutter. They all commanded her to leave in Jesus’ name. They all laid hands on Karen and prayed loudly.
Karen’s mouth opened as she vented a piercing scream. A fullness rose in her throat. She began to gag and choke, and gasped for breath in desperation. Bluish-green saliva trickled from the corners of her lips. It was mixed with blood. Rogers commanded the demon, “In the name of Jesus, release this child’s throat!”
The other three prayer warriors echoed the exact same command. Karen immediately stopped gagging and choking. She became subdued. Prudence had obeyed and had withdrawn her vicious attack. She now cried out. A note of self-pity had crept into her voice: “It’s not fair! You are all ganging up on me! It’s unfair!”
“I command you to leave this girl’s body, now! Go out in Jesus’ name!” The order was repeated, over and over. Karen tensed and again started to choke. Her lips tightened. Her mouth opened as she tried to scream. All she produced was a hoarse croak. The bluish-green slime was now being discharged from both her mouth and nose. It slowly rolled down over her chin.
“Jesus—Jesus—Jesus—we love Jesus,” was repeated in unison by Rogers and Sister Ruth, then by Sutter and Tyson. This was followed by, “On the blood of our Savior–O Jesus–help to save this child of God.” Then, “Jesus—Jesus—Jesus—we love Jesus!”
Karen looked up. Her eyes were brimming with undiluted hatred. She had lost all semblance of control. She leaped up from her chair. Around and around the room she ran, at breakneck speed, barking like a mad dog, and screeching like a wounded cat as she went. It was horrifying to watch. Her eyes then glazed and she fell to the floor.
Karen immediately went into a long series of violent convulsions. They bounced her over the carpet as if she were a rubber ball. One final long scream erupted. Karen looked and acted as if she were a diabolical creature, straight out of Hell, itself. The scream hung in the air for a full two minutes, non-stop. A shudder passed through everyone. Blood now entirely replaced the bluish-green slime. It poured from both nostrils and bubbled out of the corners of her mouth. A large stain spread across the carpet around her head. Suddenly it ceased!
At that moment, Karen gasped once more. She gagged. A huge chunk of bloody membrane was ejected out of her gaping open mouth. A little larger than a silver dollar, it was fleshy, round, and full of tiny veins. The diminutive girl lay deathly still. Her skin was a pallid gray-white.
Karen was tenderly picked up and placed on the couch. Dr. Pershing took her pulse. It was a normal 85 for the first time. (Within an acceptable range. Pershing felt this figure to be indicative of a normal condition.)
He next checked her blood pressure. It now registered 102/67, considered to be a normal reading for a girl of Karen’s age and weight. Finally, the Ivac thermometer was put into Karen’s mouth. The digital readout was 98.6. Her temperature, too, was back to normal.
The doctor now checked Karen’s mouth and throat in an effort to determine the source of her profuse bleeding. The child’s throat was raw. Her lips were dry and cracked. But it was no more serious than that. He treated the minor injuries.
Karen’s eyes opened momentarily. The poor child was totally exhausted–as was everyone else. She immediately closed them again and fell off to sleep. Her normal coloring returned. A look of complete peace came over her face, and her lips formed a smile. Prudence had lost the battle.
We all glanced around at each other. No comments were passed. Reverend Richard Rogers closed his eyes. His head tilted to one side as if he were intently listening. A teardrop wound its way slowly down each cheek. He whispered, “There are no more. The demons are all gone. It’s over. Thank God, it’s all over.”
Father John Tyson and Evangelist Donald Sutter were locked in an embrace. Both men were unashamedly weeping. Sutter could be heard mumbling, “Praise Jesus, praise His holy name.” Tears of relief accompanied the sobs of all three women. “Thank you Jesus, thank you,” tumbled from the lips of Sister Ruth. Dr. Julian Pershing’s eyes were also damp, but he said nothing.
Dr. Clarence T. Emery and Dr. Manley Fromme were standing together. They muttered expressions of wonderment privately.
It was now 6:43 p.m.. The exorcisms were finished.
And devils also came out of many, crying out and saying, “Thou are the Son of God.” And he, rebuking them, suffered them not to speak; for they knew that he was Christ” St. Luke 4
THE RECOVERY OF KAREN KINGSTON
The next day, Tuesday, April 16, 1974, the Karen Kingston of three days before was unrecognizable. She instead appeared to be a perfectly normal thirteen-year-old girl. She had regained her muscular control. She was alert and sharp-eyed. Karen no longer shuffled and limped. Both legs were now of identical length. There was no sign of stiffness or soreness in her left knee joint. Little Karen, with her beautiful long flowing hair, captivating smile, and twinkling green eyes, was now a completely different youngster. She had gone through a multitude of miraculous physical changes.
Interestingly enough, Karen Kingston had been totally oblivious of our presence in the room while the demons were being exorcised. She had not been able to hear the commanding voice of Reverend Richard Rogers or any of his prayer warriors. But she did recall Prudence, the final demonic entity, telling her that she would “not be coming back” and that “this was God’s house.” And she recalled having heard various demonic spirits hotly arguing inside her at the beginning of Rogers’ work. They were battling among themselves over which one was to be the first to leave.
Karen Kingston’s IQ had been a normal 105 at age seven, before her apparent demonic possession and subsequent retardation. Her IQ then dropped to a level of 45 and stayed there for over five years, from the fall of 1968 until her successful exorcism in April of 1974. She was considered to be nontrainable. According to Dr. Manley Fromme, “Karen had a serious learning impairment, could not adjust to social situations, and was not maturing. Her ability to function in the general intellectual realm was subnormal.”
Within one week after the completion of the exorcisms, Karen’s I.Q. was found to be 74, still very low, but now at what was considered to be a trainable level. It had jumped 29 points as a result of the exorcisms. Dr. Fromme classed Karen in the “borderline” area of mental retardation because her I.Q. fell between the 68-83 range on the scale.
Karen was given every conceivable battery of tests. She was placed under the guidance of special tutors. T here was no appreciable change in Karen’s IQ during the first six months following her exorcism (April 1974 to October 1974). It remained hovering at the 74 level.
Karen’s IQ then began to have a “snowballing” effect for the next six months. Her progress, in the words of Dr. Manley Fromme, “began showing a very significant rate of mental development.” From October 1974 to April 1975, her IQ moved up 14 more points to a new level of 88. Thus ended the first twelve-month period after her exorcism. Karen, now fourteen years old, was already doing third-grade-level school work.
At the age of fifteen, by the second anniversary of her exorcism, Spring of 1976, Karen’s IQ was found to have risen another significant 22 points. It was now a respectable 110. Karen was then doing fifth grade level school work comparable to that of any average ten-year-old child.
From all indications, according to Dr. Manley Fromme and Dr. Clarence T. Emery, Karen Kingston should reach her full normal development within the next twelve months. Her IQ is estimated to climb at least another 6 points, to a new high of 116. At this time, Karen is expected, at age sixteen, to be doing tenth grade level high school work. “It is believed,” states Dr. Fromme, “that at this point in her life, Karen will have ‘caught up’ with other normal teenagers in her age bracket.” Yes-Karen Kingston was miraculously and completely cured of her mental retardation. She was miraculously healed of all of her terrible physical infirmities. Her case is unique in the annals of modern-day medicine, psychiatry, psychology, and religion.
Did God actually move on this helpless child? Was God perhaps giving mankind a new and exciting revelation? If not, then what did take place in the supernatural realm! However one may think, something important did happen–something that is beyond human comprehension.
You the reader may make your own judgments. You the reader can form your own conclusions. The Karen Kingston case is an important first! Let us hope it will not be the last!
A CHRISTIAN COUNSELOR’S ASSESSMENT
I work with severely demonized people on a regular basis. I was once one myself. I have vast files, spilling over with case histories-some right off the front pages of large-city newspapers. I have read literally hundreds of books written by some of the world’s foremost authorities on Biblical demonology and thousands of publications in search of material for my own counseling and files.
I can say with absolute authority that this book is the most authentic, most Biblical, and most accurate description of an exorcism (and a demonized person) that I have ever read. Therefore, it must be well received. Thousands of lives hang in the balance of its success.
No true Christian has to be convinced that there is a devil known as Satan, ruler of the powers of darkness. All of us once served “his majesty” before coming to Christ and washing ourselves in the waters of Christian baptism (See Acts 2: 37-41, 8:34-39; 1 Peter 3:21; etc.). In reading the Bible today, one has the feeling of eavesdropping on a large gathering of early Christians who unashamedly and continually acknowledged the existence of a dark and depraved figure named Satan and his myriad’s of demon subjects. They, just as we, did battle against these unseen forces hourly in their daily Christian lives.
In an intensive study of demonology, one realizes that demonic forces have a very definite modus operandi no matter where in the world they happen to surface. To the eyes of the trained observer, these evil entities leave glaring “footprints” everywhere they go.
Wherever they are at work, one finds an abundance of chaos, misery, and ignorance.
People everywhere are fooling around with demonism today. Some are doing it knowingly and some unknowingly. We have produced a whole generation of fearful, severely demonized children already (see the terrible curse on such families in Exodus 20:5). I deal with these people on a daily basis. I see these poor kids with split personalities. I talk with terrified parents who were once into sorcery, spiritism, etc., who now have children in the home that they fear.
One little boy nearly tore me to shreds the day I baptized his mother (after her conversion to Christianity) in a nearby swimming pool. He was like a wild animal and only three years of age. His distorted face made my skin crawl. He has “friends” that visit him in his dark room nights. They have strange names. The mother lives in constant torment and fear. Some ministers don’t even believe in the demonic and are not even real Christians themselves. Some are all talk and will retreat when confronted with such a very obvious and hideous case as this.
The young girl in this book was no doubt the victim of the Exodus 20:5 curse, that is, the unfortunate offspring of a drunken father and a murdering mother. The powers of darkness know the scriptures well (see Matthew 4:1-11) and they merely mark time on human offspring they know they have claim to. When the time is right, they strike swiftly and surely as in the case of little Karen Kingston.
As she stood in horror, watching her mother brutally stabbing the alcohol-soaked body of her father, little Karen had no knowledge or defense against the event about to take place in that room that would soon change her entire life. What followed can easily be reconstructed. The demonic entities who had shared her living father’s body for so long (see Matthew 12:43-45) had to seek immediate refuge in a new and living “host” and there was little Karen standing just a few feet away.
The phenomenon of “transference” (see Mark 5:9-13) is well known to all who work with the demonically oppressed and possessed. It’s well known in both the Bible and counseling files of all the “great’s” in the field of demonology. As the drunk father died in front of little Karen, the demon or demons (Luke 11:24-26) left his body and entered into her. From that moment on she began to display signs of possession. But in an unbelieving world Karen had no chance for delivery–no chance, that is, until Mr. Pelton and some other very brave souls came to her rescue.
Foreign missionaries see this sort of thing on a regular basis in lands steeped in mysticism, ignorance, and superstition. Exorcism and dealing with the demonic forces become a very real ministry for these missionaries in a short time, whether they were trained for it in this country or not.
Attending an exorcism without the protection of the Spirit of God within–invites this “transference” as happened to the swine in Mark, chapter five. Many books I have in my library describe this phenomenon from returning missionaries in the field of many foreign lands. It is a regular occurrence in lands where the Gospel of Christ (and his power over Hell) are not well known, and where sorcery and paganism are rampant.
It is a pity that all of the brilliant scoffers in the medical, clerical, and psychiatric professions today have not had an opportunity to attend an exorcism like Karen Kingston’s; but as mankind steadily plunges headlong into a merger with the forces of darkness through occultism, ignorance, and sin, I’m sure many of them will have a chance to witness one. Men in psychiatry are failing and they know it.
Each time they release a person whose real problem is demonic (and not mental or chemical) that person commits the same crime within days of release and sometimes worse. The heat is getting intense on these men to come up with some new answers because the old, tired ones they have been using simply do not work.
I find it very disturbing when I hear supposedly logical professionals (and this includes the clergy) pooh-poohing Biblical exorcism today, particularly in view of the fact that the mental institutions and prisons are overflowing with people they cannot seem to cure or rehabilitate. Many of these incarcerated individuals display such easily discernible signs of demonic activity, even to the most superficially trained observers. Many of these hopeless cases find their way back into society in time and are soon busily hacking, bombing, and maiming their way into the headline print of the prior to these killing sprees.
You cannot seriously study demonology without getting into a study of cults and criminal psychology because these are the “homes” for the demonic. The more violent tend to commit bizarre crimes and the less violent or what we call the “angels of light” type (see 2 Corinthians 11:13-15) tend to establish unbiblical cults or gravitate to those already established.
Compounding the problem in acceptance of Biblical exorcism today is the ever increasing number of liberal or modernist theologians who are graduating from seminaries around the world. One can see that the problem will grow rapidly worse as time goes on.
Perhaps in time the professions will take a look at their failing practices and seek out an older, time-tested formula beneath the covers of their dusty Bibles and, with a finger of faith, point at the demoniac and cast out his tormentors in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth (see Acts 16:16-19). Then they too will discover the truth of the statement once made to Jesus by some seventy of his disciples, “even the devils are subject unto us through thy name (Luke 10:17).
The story of Karen Kingston is the best documented exorcism in history, in that eleven professional men and women were in the room observing and assisting in it. They saw and recorded everything written in this incredible book. It was carefully planned this way so that no person could ever discredit the validity of the exorcism. Some witnesses were reputable medical men and others were in the psychiatric profession.
One observer was an unbelieving Catholic priest who had been told that exorcism was a myth right out of the Dark Ages in the seminary where he was supposedly trained for the clerical profession. No doubt he is reading his Bible in a new light today–that of practical experience and first-hand knowledge.
In addition to these people, there was a Baptist minister in attendance, the exorcist and his Christian wife, three trained nurses, and the writer of this book, who is a widely respected college instructor, handwriting expert of national renown, and author of numerous works.
As an expert on Biblical demonology, I can truly say that the exorcism of Karen Kingston is the best documented, most Biblically accurate, and by far the most typical case of violent possession that I have ever come across in my Christian life of research, counseling, lecturing, and writing on this subject.
If this book were to be read and then acted upon by men and women in medicine and psychiatry today, I truly believe that thousands of people like Karen Kingston could be cured and released from the savage torment that only Jesus Christ can deliver them from.
SOME EXPERT OPINIONS ON DEMON POSSESSION
REVEREND JOHN J. NICOLA
Technical consultant on the movie “The Exorcist.” Author of “Diabolical Possession and Exorcism.” Master’s Degree in philosophy, theology, classical languages, and educational psychology. Student of demonology since 1953.
“Most psychiatrists consider it unenlightened, if not barbaric, to believe in the possibility of demonic possession. Not long ago a psychiatrist friend of mine, for whom I have the greatest respect and whom I frequently confer with, told an interesting story. He had been discussing with one of his colleagues about the possibility of diabolical possession in a certain case. The other man found this unthinkable.
A few weeks afterward, the latter was visiting in a ward at the nearby state hospital. In this ward were a number of psychotic patients, potentially violent, who at the time were very subdued. Some were asleep, others were walking about distractedly; the doctor was speaking with his patient. When a man neatly dressed in a business suit, white shirt, and tie walked through the ward, ‘all Hell suddenly broke loose!’
The patients who were asleep woke up; those who Were walking about became belligerent and boisterous; and the help of orderlies had to be solicited to restrain them. After calm had been restored, the psychiatrist asked a nurse, ‘Who was that man who walked through here before?’ The reply was that it was a priest carrying the Blessed Sacrament to patients in the next ward.This caused him to have second thoughts about the possibility of diabolical possession.
Now that our society has rejected the inhumane and cruel treatment of all mentally ill patients as being possessed of demons, a reaction has set in, making it unfashionable for the enlightened to believe in demons and demonic possession.”
DR. BILLY GRAHAM
Probably the world’s best known evangelist. Founder of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, with headquarters in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
“One out of every four American families is affected some way by mental derangement. Over half of all hospital beds in America at this hour are occupied by mental patients. Could a great deal of this be demons? I don’t know, because I could not say that everybody who is in a mental hospital has a demon. That’s not true. Many of them have organic problems that may have nothing to do with the devil. But there are many people, I am convinced, suffering from mental derangement who are under the control and the power and the influence of demons.”
REVEREND REX HUMBARD
Pastor, Cathedral of Tomorrow, Akron, Ohio, and the Rex Humbard World Outreach Ministry. Initiated one of the first television ministries in the United States. Now seen on over 400 television stations throughout the world.
“Psychiatrists are saying that within the next two years, about one out of every five people in America will need to undergo psychiatric treatment. Some of them are now beginning to realize that they are dealing with powers beyond the natural realm. They are dealing with demon oppression, obsession, and possession. Of course, they would not use these Bible terms, for that would be an insult to their business. They only use a more sophisticated language like: 1. Psychosomatic ailments; 2. Schizophrenia; 3. Psychosis; 4. Paranoia.”
REVEREND WILLEM C. VAN DAM
The “Exorcist General” for Holland’s Reformed Church of the Netherlands. Author of “Devil Go Out, in Jesus’ Name,” and widely known for his ministry of healing and deliverance. Father van Dam did his theological study at Utrecht University.
“People in medicine and the psychiatrist field generally know nothing about demon possession. This isn’t mentioned in the medical handbooks, so it is considered to be outside their scientific sphere. Exorcism could certainly be wisely used in mental institutions and retarded children’s homes. There must be openness and a readiness to work closely with pastors who are experienced in the ministry of deliverance. As of now, in mental institutions, there are probably thirty or forty percent of the inmates who have demonic disturbances and not any kind of medical problem. Or some may have both.”
DR. JESS PEDIGO
World-renowned evangelist-missionary and founder of the David Livingstone Missionary Foundation, Dr. Pedigo is the author of “Satanism-Diabolical Religion of Darkness.”
“It is indeed demon possession in many cases when people seek psychiatric help. I’m sure in many cases that exorcism would be of extreme benefit in mental institutions and retarded homes. I have no doubt but that many who are in mental hospitals are there because of demon possession. If these people could be delivered by exorcism, they would be completely sane. I’m sure many of the retarded are only retarded as a result of demon possession or oppression. I certainly think that exorcism could and should be used to help cure them.”
DR. T. L. LOWERY
Assistant General Overseer of the Church of God headquarters in Cleveland, Tennessee. Lowery is known and respected internationally as an evangelist-missionary. This man is also the author of twenty books including “Demon Possession.”
“One of the most terrifying and revealing accounts of demons at work is contained in Luke 8:26-40. This is an actual story of a man who was possessed by a great number of unclean demons. In the deceptive language of today, he was insane, but the Holy Word tells us he was possessed with devils, Matthew 8:28. If the truth were known, many people who are presently confined to padded cells or bound by straight-jackets in our mental institutions are really possessed by demons.”
DR. HANS K. LARONDELLE
Associate professor of theology at Andrews University in Berrien Springs, Michigan. Received his PHD.in Systematic Theology in 1971 from Amsterdam Free University. Served as a pastor and evangelist in the Netherlands for 14 years.
“Modern medical science and psychiatry do not accept the reality of evil angels and therefore ascribe all mental and emotional disturbances to natural causes. Hence, a great many persons are never helped. Medicine, psychology, or psychiatry can not heal those who are possessed by evil spirits. Only Christ can deliver those. It is one of the most difficult problems in Christian counseling how one can establish the difference between mental illness and demonization or possession. But the reality of demon possession must not be denied!”
REVEREND HARRY HAMPEL
Editor of the “Protestant Journal” in Conway, Arkansas, Hampel is a widely traveled evangelist. He is the author of numerous books including “The Truth About Exorcism.”
“If you were to talk to most psychiatrists today about demonic possession, you might risk commitment to a hospital yourself. A German psychiatrist, who is a Christian, declares that he has seen cases of possession that cannot be explained from a psychiatric standpoint. Dr. Alfred Lechler declares that he ‘proceeds to expulsion’ in such instances. This often results in violent struggles of some hours’ duration, with flailing, screaming, mocking, cursing, especially when the blood of Christ is mentioned.’ I do not assert that all insanity or emotional instability is caused by demons. But it is the case many times.
If an individual is truly demon possessed as thousands are, the only hope is through exorcism. A psychiatrist cannot analyze the spirit out; a chiropractor cannot adjust it out; a surgeon cannot cut it out; nor can a doctor of internal medicine formulate some chemically compounded concoction which will rid the victim of a demon.”
DR. M. THOMAS STARKES
Former director of Interfaith Witness on the Baptist Home Mission Board in Atlanta and presently campus minister-instructor at Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield. Widely respected as an expert on world religions and cults in America.
“The clergy and psychiatrists, as well as psychologists and others, are going to have to work closely together. More people are going to walk into a psychiatrist’s office and say they’re demonized. The psychiatrist can either respond by laughing or by taking the person seriously. If he takes it seriously, it may be helpful for him to try and determine if the patient is actually being affected by demons. He can watch for several of the diagnostic symptoms, which would include erratic behavior changes and oppression. I believe that these professionals should list demons as one of the classic psychotic disorders. It needs to be right in the middle of the list, or at least included as a footnote.”
REVEREND H. A. MAXWELL WHYTE
Pastor of the United Apostolic Faith Church in Scarborough, Ontario, Canada. Widely regarded as the father of the deliverance ministry in North America. Author of numerous books including “The Kiss of Satan and Dominion Over Demons.”
“Could exorcism be utilized in mental institutions and retarded children’s homes? Yes, it can. I think there’s a big field here for Christian workers to bring deliverance to some who are in mental institutions and retarded children’s homes. I know of one lady in New York State who works amongst retarded children. She has often lovingly prayed for retarded children and seen remarkable improvement in them.
In 1965 I was invited to speak to the Boston chapter of the Full Gospel Businessmen’s Fellowship. About two hundred people were present. Three ladies started to pray for a woman who had been brought from a mental home. All three were well taught in the ministry of deliverance and they started by binding and rebuking these insane demons, which immediately started coming out, screaming and arguing. We returned to the area about three years later and found the woman who had indeed been healed and was living a normal life.”
REVEREND R. G. HARDY
Widely known radio evangelist with a daily coast-to-coast broadcast, called the “Miracle Hour.” Author of the monthly “Faith in Action” magazine and numerous books. Headquartered in Baltimore, Maryland.
“Many psychiatrists now believe many of the mental problems people have are actually caused by a demon spirit. They actively seek out ministers to work with them to help deliver men, women, and children from demons. Some of these professionals now realize that demon spirits are the cause of much disease and many adverse mental conditions.”
RABBI BYRON SHERWIN
Associate professor at Spertus College of Judaica in Chicago. This man is a foremost Jewish scholar and authority on demonology.
“I think exorcism could be used in mental institutions and retarded children’s homes. But this should be limited to treating people who think exorcism is the only kind of cure that will work on them after all others have been tried. And where psychiatrists and medical authorities who admit to the possibility of exorcism and possession, also admit all possible treatment has been given and has been found wanting. I hope the possibility for possession will be taken into account by practitioners of medicine and psychiatry.”
REVEREND LESTER SUMRALL
A missionary-statesman with a worldwide ministry of evangelism since 1934. Founded LeSea, Inc., which has headquarters in South Bend, Indiana. Editor of “World Harvest” magazine and author of many books including “Bitten by Demons” and “Seven Ways to Recognize Demon Fouler.”
“Demon possession sometimes reveals itself in forms of insanity, both temporary and complete. I know from many experiences that Christ can heal a mental patient as simply as He can heal a physical illness. Literally millions of people are being sent to psychiatrists by their doctors because the cause of their illness and suffering cannot be found. Of course, the reason medical treatment is impossible is because he source of the problem is spiritual.”
DR. DONALD OMAND
One of the world’s foremost exorcists, with over forty years of experience behind him. This man is a retired Church of England minister and now travels all over the world performing exorcisms. Author of “Experiences of a Present Day Exorcist.”
“Most people who think they need an exorcist really need only to see a psychiatrist. Christian exorcists should work closely with the medical profession. They should realize that all medical science is a divine gift just as much as exorcism. In my experience it has been easy to collaborate with psychiatrists and other professionals. Even those who do not believe in exorcism think an exorcist is of psychological value. I have always had ready collaboration from those in the various medical professions. The only real skepticism I have encountered has been from other clergymen.” EVANGELIST KENNETH O. COX
Former pastor, who turned evangelist in 1971, Cox is a gifted speaker who travels throughout the nation with the Seventh-day Adventist Prophecy Crusade. He holds degrees in theology, Biblical languages, history, and education.
“There are psychiatrists who do not believe in either God or the devil. They claim that there’s no such thing as devil possession. They would never be in a position to help someone who really was possessed. They’re out of touch! It would be beyond them. But you take a psychiatrist who has a close relationship with Christ, he can operate in this spiritual area. He can do what needs to be done.”
DR. THOMAS WYATT
Pastored churches in Iowa and then went on to pioneer evangelism in the radio healing ministry. On Mother’s Day, 1942, the voice of this dynamic man of God was heard for the first time on “Wings of Healing.”
“Come with me to this great institution–its great buildings spread over many acres. Let us go inside and see, in row after row of cells, wild eyes peering from behind screens and bars. Men and women living in a nightmare land, a world of horrors where naked fear stalks priceless, immortal souls, driving them over the precipice of reason. These wails and weepings, these screams and cursings are the outcry of those bound in Satan’s world of the lost and damned. Look at this wild, fear-driven creature–she used to love and laugh, talk and enjoy life like others. But who stole that smile, who took away her reason? Ah! It was the thief who ‘comes but to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. ‘We need not visit hospitals and insane asylums in order to see the devastating work of Satan; it is everywhere evident….”
REVEREND FRANK HAMMOND
Ordained Baptist minister who holds an A.B. degree from Baylor University and a B.D. degree from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas. Author of “Pigs in the Parlor,” described as “A practical guide to deliverance.”
“The disturbance and disintegration personally known as schizophrenia or dementia praecox is frequently encountered by the deliverance minister. I would estimate that as many as one-fourth of those who come to us for deliverance are found to have the schizophrenic pattern. Schizophrenics account for half the population in psychiatric hospitals.”
DR. HOBART FREEMAN
Considered to be one of the world’s foremost authorities on demonology and exorcism. Author of the widely acknowledged “Angels of Light.” This man has had many years in counseling hundreds of individuals seeking help and freedom from demonic oppression and subjection.
“Both from the Scriptures and experience, it is evident that evil spirits who oppress their human victims are of various kinds, and work in a variety of ways. Oppression may be subjective, such as insanity…it is difficult for the novice to discern, or the medical doctor, psychologist, and psychiatrist to admit the reality and activity of demonic spirits in such victims.
“There are spirits whose primary function seems to be to assault the mind. There are spirits of insanity who take possession, when possible, of the mental faculties, disrupting normal, rational thought processes, the affected individual exhibiting various mental, emotional, and behavioral abnormalities.”
GEORGE D. STEINERT: PSYCHOLOGIST, GRAPHOANALYST
George D. Steinert is an instructor of psychology at the Institute of Graphoanalysis in Chicago and of handwriting analysis at American River College in Sacramento. He received his M.A. degree from California State University and wrote his thesis on the spontaneous development of handwriting forms in pre-school children. He has also used handwriting analysis in conjunction with the psychotherapy of female wards of the California Youth Authority.
Steinert received his B.A. degree from Angelo State University, where he majored in psychology while serving concurrently with the United States Navy as an instructor of communications and linguistics at the U.S. Air Force School of Applied Cryptologic Sciences, San Angelo, Texas. He is the author of a widely read book entitled “You Are What You Write.” Mr. Steinert is also a certified Master Graphoanalyst, vice-president of the Northern California Chapter of the International Graphoanalysis Society (IGAS), and a 1974 winner of the IGAS Merit Scholarship.
HOW PERSONALITY IS PROJECTED INTO HANDWRITING
Next to a photograph of a person, a piece of handwriting provides the most intimate memento of another individual. Whether it is hurriedly scrawled as a note of self-reminder, a letter, or other document, a person’s penmanship is recognized as displaying in graphic form his innermost attitudes, intelligence, and sociability, as well as his integrity, aptitudes, and innermost tendencies.
An obscure awareness of this is no doubt a significant factor underlying the collecting of autographs of celebrated personalities. Such beliefs that handwriting reveal the writer’s personality have been shown to be warranted by accumulation of a considerable body of evidence over the last hundred years, although pioneers in graphology were building detailed methods as early as the seventeenth century in Europe.
As much of our culture has emerged from Mother Europe, so the roots of science, psychology, and graphology lie deep in the European heritage. Since its practice was first refined there, it is no surprise that handwriting analysis enjoys wide application in many European countries and is recognized officially through its broad use in education and business, in psyche-diagnosis and therapy, and as an aid in the diagnosis of certain medical conditions including speech defects, cancer, and heart disease.
In the United States, handwriting analysis is seen as somewhat less important than in Europe. This is due in part to the fact that we tend to be very demanding of rigid statistical documentation, thinking that if enough mathematical data can be manipulated by researchers that some new fact will be revealed scientifically. It has only been within the last twenty years or so that Americans are beginning to realize that there is a body of knowledge and awareness which cannot be defined through statistical operations. This rather abrupt change in our culture signals the growing importance of the entire humanistic movement in psychology and our increasing interest in the area of inner experience and self-awareness.
These have long been characteristics of oriental cultures and only recently have they been brought to the fore in the United States through various methods of meditation, the use of certain drugs, or the particularly scientific approach to increased inner-awareness, biofeedback techniques. Only in America would an approach be taken to expand awareness by fastening electrodes to our bodies and monitoring ourselves on elaborate electronic equipment. The oriental simply sits quietly and experiences himself.
What this means is that, while in other countries handwriting analysis has been accepted on an empirical basis and its methods gradually refined and verified through subsequent practice, it seems that many in America have placed the cart before the horse, scientifically, and attempt to use statistics to “prove” principles that have been known and accepted for a century before giving them any credibility whatever.
This has accounted for the retarded progress of graphology in this country, as compared to Europe, though the last several decades have shown great strides being made in the United States in both the theoretical foundation and the practical applications of handwriting analysis.
One of the most important contributors to the acknowledgment of handwriting as a significant manifestation of personality, has been the noted Harvard psychologist, Dr. Gordon W. Allport. Dr. Allport and his students approached the study of human kind from the standpoint of the individual.
They found that expressive activities are highly organized and well patterned, and that such movements convey important information about the individual’s inner character. Through his far-reaching studies of expressive movement, Allport determined that handwriting provides a means of ready access to important sources of motivation and conflict in the individual.
Children’s scribbles reveal a considerable amount of information about intellectual development, social adjustment, and their self-concepts long before they are able to draw the letters of the alphabet. The expressions of personality are found in spontaneous graphic gestures that emerge and develop quite apart from the learning of any alphabet. The natural expression of the developing graphic forms will be incorporated into the writing of words.
That is part of the reason why children quickly adapt the writing of the copybook to their own individual styles. Very few persons ever continue to write in the copybook style. To do so reflects a strong effort to conform to the wishes of others and a failure to mature intellectually and socially.
Albert S. Osborn is a recognized expert in the field of handwriting identification. His book, “Questioned Documents,” has been the most valuable reference for handwriting experts who deal with forged or questioned writing for nearly fifty years and it is still considered a classic work today. Osborn maintains that no two persons write an identical script. It is this unique feature which allows handwriting to be virtually as useful as fingerprints in identifying the writer.
Osborn points out that neither is there a lack of variation within the writing of a single person, however. Whether the writing is of the same or different persons is determined by “the cumulative effect of a sufficient number of mutually confirming qualities or characteristics.”
To conclude that writings were executed by the same person, one must determine that there are not only sufficient similarities, but that there is a distinct lack of “differences that cannot logically be accounted for except on the theory that the two sets of writings are by different writers.” With this in mind, we may now turn to the unique case of Karen Kingston.
THE CASE OF KAREN KINGSTON
The various pages of handwriting and drawings under study were verified by the witnesses to have been executed by the hand of Karen Kingston, a retarded thirteen-year-old girl, in April, 1974. The study was performed through many hours of detailed analysis and synthesis and involved consultations with other professionals. These include Mr. Paul N. Mitchell, certified Graphoanalyst and President of the Northern California chapter of the International Graphoanalysis Society, and Dr. Donald M. Uhlin, Professor of Art Therapy at California State University, Sacramento.
A specialist in art therapy for twenty-five years, Dr. Uhlin has written several important books on the psychological aspects of art and is considered an expert in evaluating children’s intelligence from their drawings. (Consult, for example, her Art for Exceptional Children. Dubuque, Iowa: Wm. C. Brown Company Publishers, 1972.) Several questions were posed as most pertinent to the situation. The answers lay in the handwritings and drawings of Karen Kingston.
IS THERE EVIDENCE OF RETARDATION?
Is there evidence of emotional balance and appropriate maturation or imbalance and immaturity? Does an analysis of the several specimens allow the conclusion that there is a single personality? Does the projective evidence indicate a plurality of personalities beyond any reasonable doubt?
THE HANDWRITINGS AND DRAWINGS OF KAREN KINGSTON—AN ANALYSIS
The size, speed, and slant of handwriting are features that are held fairly constant in one individual under normal circumstances. The size of the writings may vary from one to another by as much as a factor of two. The speed may vary considerably from one writing to another as evidenced by the variations in fluency of line, hesitations, margins, and spacing. The slant of a writing generally provides a stable measure from one period of writing to another for a specific person.
Variations that depart from a consistent personal pattern provide immediate evidence suggesting at least an altered mood. Different or varying slants are common features of many persons and are rarely accompanied by changes in other features that are adequately distinct and in sufficient numbers to suggest a different personality. The immature personality often writes with a slant that varies from one part of the page to another-frequently starting with a vertical script and gradually inclining more to the right as the writer becomes more relaxed and expressive. Reassertion of voluntary control will be in evidence when the vertical writing is re-imposed.
In the writings of Karen Kingston, one hundred strokes were measured for slant and plotted in the form of a perspectograph. With only one exception, Prudence, Chapter 17, the writings show good internal consistency of slant throughout the body of each handwriting specimen.
This means that the graphic data showing the slant of each specimen can be compared visually. When this is done (see accompanying table), the significant differences between the characteristic slant for each handwriting specimen indicate considerable variation in this important underlying feature of handwriting.
The writing of Williams, Chapter 6, is slow. Although lined paper was used, the baseline is erratic and the spacing is irregular, indicating an insecure emotional base. The personality is basically extroverted but immature and somewhat hostile. The writing indicates slow, undeveloped thinking patterns typical of a person who is easily influenced by his surroundings. Nevertheless there is considerable evidence of a push for independence and freedom. This presents a conflict because the writing shows a strong need for approval and affection–a desire to be liked–which may be easily frustrated due to a resistive attitude of a part of the personality.
The writing of Linus, Chapter 7, is characterized by over-control. The writing is somewhat faster than the first specimen and slants more to the right but the cramping together of narrow letters accompanied by considerable retracing of lines reveals an overall inhibition of affect. The regularly spaced lines, precise margins, and careful i-dots reveal this compulsive personality which is beset with much anxiety and struggling to reestablish order and stability.
Considerable fear is shown by the extremely compressed script, the feather-like endings on words and the tail humps on m’s and n’s. Failing to integrate in a socially positive and emotionally satisfying way, this personality has become negatively extroverted and is now beginning to retreat into itself by drawing an emotional curtain between itself and others. The writing is not unlike that of some suicidal individuals.
The writing of Elizabeth, Chapter 8, shows a troubled personality with much anxiety. In some ways, the ego is even more fragmented in this writing than in the previous one as shown by an increased effort to withdraw emotionally. Less energy is expended in relating positively with others.
Despite a strong need for close emotional support (love and affection), this personality is characterized by hostility and emotional isolation–a feeling that “nobody cares for me so I will not let anyone close enough to hurt me.” This deep inner conflict may be responsible for the indications of self-blame in the writing. While the intellectual level of the writer is fairly good, the seriously disturbed overall pattern of the personality is debilitating.
The drawings of Wellesley, Chapter 9, are those of a very intelligent person. There is no sign of retardation at all, that is, the drawings indicate at least normal intelligence. This is indicated by the great details in the figures and by the oblique angularity and the complicated synthesis of parts. The first and third figures are more masculine forms in that they are angular.
The first figure suggests a torso with dotted lines as buttons and a cube-like figure for a head. The retracing and restructuring in these two angular figures suggest confusion and a disturbed quality. Prominent retracing is also evident in the flower figures. The house and flower drawings seem to fit together. The curvier linear form of the flowers together with their detail are like those that would be produced by an adult female.
The house is typical of a normal child’s intelligence. The scalloped pattern on the house gives it an effeminate, child-like quality; the bushes lean back from the edge like a child’s fold-over drawing. The face-like appearance of the front of the house is typical of children’s drawings and the doorknob shows a child-like dependency.
It is interesting to note that the house and flower drawings appear flat, lacking depth, while the angular figures show a developed depth-perception. This particular house drawing is typical of a child of eight or nine years. The relatively high roof shows much fantasy thought, but extroversion is indicated. Considerable defensiveness is shown in the extremely high fence behind the house.
That feature as well as some elevation of ground in the background strongly suggests that the mother is perceived as an especially protective, dominant figure. The lines cutting across the sidewalk would normally indicate a defensiveness, but they are not especially important here because they are relativelylight. More emphasis is given to other features–the chimney and the bushes.
A curious feature appears in relation to the guarded characteristics of the house drawing. This is shown in the rows of shrubs, which were carefully placed along the sides of the walkway leading to the house. Frequently in such drawings, the number of bushes, trees, or windows indicates the number of persons in the family. In this drawing there are fourteen such shrubs lining the walk.
Could these shrubs represent Karen Kingston and her thirteen other personalities? That this characteristic appears in only one drawing dictates the utmost caution in suggesting such an interpretation. Therefore, I was nearly shocked to find the pattern repeated in the first drawing of the flower. Precisely fourteen leaves adorn the three stems. Too much for a coincidence, these features must certainly represent the expression of an inner awareness–something that perhaps even Karen Kingston herself could not know–that she may be a host to thirteen other personalities!
The vertical slant of Hugh’s writing, Chapter 10, gives it a very different appearance, but that is not adequate to say that it is a different handwriting. Only by evaluating the total personality can a conclusion be reached as to the overall differences, their number, and the degree of divergence. The overall effect of this personality is not unlike that of Elizabeth, Chapter 8, although the specific pattern of characteristics is quite different. Easily angered, sarcastic and deceptive, this writer is equally hostile and remote as Elizabeth, Chapter 8, but more aloof as shown by the vertical slant.
The writing appears to be moderately fast and there is a decided emphasis on simplicity and directness as shown by the abbreviated letter forms without beginning strokes (f, h, k, l, t). The well spaced lines and even margins, as well as the balanced upper and lower loops (see the letter f), shows a high degree of organization-a desire to create order out of disorder–which is likely to be frustrated by the overall destructive nature of the personality.
Unusual verbal fluency is indicated, which is a tool of a seemingly cool and carefree disposition. Given to rationalization and deception as a cloak of forthrightness, this personality would say anything to avoid criticism and disapproval. Some evidence from this handwriting suggests a rejection of someone close.
Although we cannot know exactly who has been rejected, an informed guess might be the mother. Such evidence as this may be one explanation for the splitting away of consciousness into segregated entities. The awareness of a rejection of one for whom there is such a pronounced need is certain to establish a powerful conflict in the mind of a child–a conflict that could easily overwhelm the impressionable seven-year old, virtually destroying the child’s mind. The loss of a parent at this stage of psychosexual development is especially disruptive to the child’s emotional well being.
To live with the knowledge of what Karen Kingston witnessed was undoubtedly too much for her child’s mind to cope with. To further reject the one person in her life whom she needed most, her mother, left Karen totally alone in the world. Perhaps Karen Kingston attempted to “adjust” to her personal tragedy the only way she could–by inviting into her existence a new family of thirteen other personalities, as cruel and disturbed as they were. At least she was not alone.
The writing of Mother Divine, Chapter 11, is characterized by an extreme emotional response showing a strongly sympathetic nature. There is a shaky, uncertain quality about many of the formations, and a roundness suggesting immaturity. Letters vary in size and show signs of laborious execution as if writing was an unfamiliar chore. Both upper and lower loops appear large in relation to the awkward middle zone forms.
Imagination in the abstract and material areas is highly developed. Evidence suggests the writer is unusually possessive and strongly influenced by considerations outside the normal scope of living. An unusual philosophical bent is indicated and there is a pronounced desire for a position that carries prestige. The former is indicated by the twisted “l” in “speller;” the latter in the hanging loop on “m” in “magnetic.” This personality seeks an escape from harsh reality through flights into fantasy.
The large printed forms of Mariana, Chapter 13, show an immature, childlike quality. That the writer is capable of producing script is evident by the use of connective forms. Repeated underscoring suggests hostility in this sample. The uneven size of letters suggests a disturbed quality and the use of small letters with capitals within a word may be a kind of careless defiance, which beckons attention. This latter feature is confirmed in the back-swinging strokes on “e” in “please.”
The writing of Jeanne, Chapter 14, is most unusual as compared to the others executed during Karen’s exorcism. It is unique in the fact that it depicts a relatively well-ordered personality with very little anxiety; one whose only weakness would be a great reluctance to be wrong. While the personality is extremely responsive emotionally, stability is good. Ambition, hopefulness, enthusiasm, and pride in performance characterize this script.
This is a firm and forceful personality endowed with integrity, creative ability, and considerable leadership potential. Decisiveness and organization enhance the strong achievement motivation evidenced in the script. The writing shows a personality with strong convictions, but one that is influenced more by emotional factors than by well developed intellectual functioning.
The personality most strongly influenced by emotion is manifested graphically here in Envy’s handwriting, Chapter 15. The extreme far-right slant has the misfortune of being coupled with the most pronounced lack of ambition, lack of control, and poor adjustment; while ranking first in possessiveness, selfishness, hostility, egotism, and manipulation. Extreme insecurity is manifested, characterized by feelings of spiritual, emotional, social, and material neglect.
The personality is exceptionally negative towards others who are the perceived source of all things desired. This serves to drive others away and further frustrate needs. Fear of disapproval is a crippling force in this personality, which turns its own worst fears into harsh reality through impulsive, resistive behavior.
In the drawings of Mervin, Chapter 16, there is a noteworthy difference appearing in the several forms. The first figure (Hogs, Pigs) is softly curved and shows an effeminate quality. Its flatness and irregular size are typical of immaturity and with increased age are suggestive of a disturbed personality. The second drawing (FAST!) is also flat and distinctly angular, suggesting hostility. The pointed t-stem has a dagger-like appearance.
The oblique angularity shown in the third drawing (THE END), along with the even size and regular spacing of letters suggests good intelligence and unusual perceptual ability. Some unnecessary retracing suggests a disturbed quality in this figure.
This handwriting of Prudence, Chapter 27, offers little in terms of personality projection because it was deliberately drawn with the hand not usually used for writing. The erratic rhythm, jerky strokes, and irregular forms were primary evidence of a lack of motor control. Note also the bi-modality in the slant perspectograph for this specimen. This feature is indicative of poor control. As such, it would be unwise to draw many conclusions about the writer’s personality.
Different specimens of handwriting from a single individual are known to be highly consistent in both gross features and the smallest recognizable characteristics. It is this fact that allows handwriting to be known as a stable graphic expression of personality. Handwritings of individuals do vary from time to time, but typically much less than the superficial appearance would lead one to believe.
Changing the slant of writing from far right to more vertical will certainly affect the appearance, but the bulk of the writer’s personal characteristics remain unchanged. It is an absolute impossibility to fluently execute a script while omitting each of the writer’s habitual, identifying characteristics.
Suffice it to say that when a person’s handwriting “changes” for any reason up to and including a severe trauma, no more than two or three significant changes might be expected to occur and these changes can generally be attributed to a change of mood. Consistent change in handwriting, which is spontaneously executed, does not normally occur overnight. Changes generally occur over a period of transition of anywhere from a few weeks to a few months.
This includes the inclusion of new forms and the deletion of old forms. Handwriting reflects personality and also includes the more fleeting expressions of mood. Personality does not change overnight and neither does handwriting. Only when a significantly large number of features are divergent, and in sufficient degree, may one conclude that different personalities are represented in two different handwriting samples.
Each specimen of handwriting produced by Karen Kingston’s hand during her three-day exorcism was carefully analyzed and then diligently compared to every other specimen of her handwriting. Thus, not counting the specimens, which were treated as drawings (Wellesley, Chapter 9 and Mervin, Chapter 16), a total of twenty-eight unique pairwise comparisons were made. Fifty-eight factors were specifically assessed as to their presence or absence and, if present, the degree of intensity of each.
While we might expect as many as two or three significant differences due to variations in the writing of a single person, the writings of Karen Kingston showed no less than fourteen significant differences in terms of the assessed features when compared with one another. One pair of writings showed an incredible thirty major points of divergence; the average number of significant differences was in excess of twenty-one.
While it may be unimpressive to cite such large numbers as evidence that one person could not have written all of the Karen Kingston specimens, the fact is that one person did–Karen Kingston! The writings display varying emotional patterns, different levels of intellectual maturity, and different degrees of personality integration and adjustment. Several writings show equally disturbed personality characteristics, but the underlying dynamics of each writing is expressed in a Pattern that is unquestionably unique.
Based on the evidence from the handwritings and drawings of Karen Kingston, that it is an impossibility that all these specimens of writing could be the product of a single personality, that they differ in such a degree that cannot be accounted for by a more reasonable explanation, I am convinced that the handwritings of Karen Kingston examined here are unequivocally the result of a multiplicity of personalities which have their existence in and through her. There is absolutely no question of this in my mind. The sheer weight of evidence does not allow any other conclusion.
While no direct graphic or handwritten material was obtained in two of the cases involved here, the evidence from the drawings seems to be of a wider scope and indicates that, indeed, thirteen separate other personalities are involved. This evidence was obtained early in the experiment when no one could have knownhow it would all end.
In a psychological sense, it has been known that some persons react to deep-lying unconscious impulses by a splitting of consciousness, or dissociation. Such impulses may take the form of a secondary personality, and even assume a semi-independent existence.
Why some individuals are affected in this way and not others is only a matter of speculation in terms of science. Even the means of this association is unknown; it is simply described as being “highly complex and intriguing.” Such is the way when a phenomenon like this one is observed. Little more can be done than simply observe what appears to be happening and try to explain it in the only way we know how.
Is the multiple personality in Karen Kingston the result of a psychological reaction to trauma? Or is the multiple personality in Karen Kingston the direct effect of Twentieth Century demon possession? The reader may decide for himself. The fact remains that the case of Karen Kingston is a most unusual one–not only by virtue of the manifestation of thirteen other personalities, but for the method by which these personalities were dispelled and Karen returned to a state in which she now has hope for living a normal life.
by ROBERT W. PELTON