The Oracle of BHS - Walden Welch Astrologer

In Touch With His Soul, The Teenage Years

The Oracle of BHS, Room 101

Chapter 14

Preface

"It was not long after I gained the reputation for being a fortune teller that the kids at school nicknamed me The Oracle. I have no idea who first gave me that name, but it caught on quickly. That was also the name of our high school yearbook and so I was confused as to why they would name me after that book. I thought maybe the word oracle was taken from a Greek word that might mean news or messenger. I also had that word confused with the bird oriole' I thought that maybe Oriole was the proper name for the female of the species, and Oracle referred to the male and I therefore thought that maybe the kids were calling me a bird brain. I was both hurt and flattered by my new nickname. It depended on who called me Oracle and how it was presented. If some kid hollered to me while I was walking across campus, "Hey Oracle, what's the latest? See anything interesting in your crystal ball?" and then they laughed I would ignore them but walk away quickly into the nearest shadow or doorway. But, on the other hand, if some kid said to me, "Hi Ya, Oracle. I really like your shirt." I would know that they were fond or at least understanding of me, and so I would give them a friendly smile and wave, feeling somewhat proud and popular. I don't know why I didn't have the sense to look that word up in the dictionary back in those days. The truth is I never looked it up until recently, knowing you were doing this interview, so that I would be prepared to tell you of this period, the high school years of my life. The Thorndike-Barnhart Dictionary I referenced refers to 'Or.a.cle 'n. 1. Answer, often equivocal, given by a god through a priest or priestess, to some question. 2. Place where the god gives answers. 3. Priest, priestess, or other means by which the gods answer is given. 4. Something regarded as an infallible guide or indicator. 5. A very wise person.'

"Isn't that strange? I guess my classmates were referring to me as 'a messenger of God'? I'm glad I didn't look up that word oracle in those days, for if I had the way the word translates would have made me very frightened·very frightened indeed. You see, I made a prediction in 1959·a prediction about a girl named Barbara Mooney which came to pass·"

"In Touch With His Soul", Gina Cerminara's remarkable biographical interview with Walden Welch continues·

WW: "When my bus pulled into the Bakersfield Greyhound Depot I saw my father's green Chevy truck parked on the street out front. As the bus drove into the terminal I saw him leaning against the wall. He was smoking on of his Camel cigarettes, waiting for my arrival. My eyes searched the area and I saw that Mom was not with him. My heart began to race for I knew were she not here to greet me something had to be wrong with her. I feared that she must be ill. I was still upset from my dream of the wilted rose. That foreboding dream was always an omen forecasting something bad to follow and so I was somewhat panicked as I made my way off the bus. 'Hi, Dad. Where's Mom? Is something the matter with Mom?' I asked urgently. He had an expression of deep worry upon his face. 'Please tell me what's wrong,' I begged. 'Has something awful happened to Mama?' He looked me directly in the eye and said, 'She's in the hospital. She went into heart failure this morning and I had to rush her to the hospital. She passed out in the bedroom. She was sitting at her vanity bureau combing her hair, getting ready to meet you at the bus station and out of nowhere she suddenly collapsed. God damn it! I think the excitement of your coming home upset her.' 'Is she all right? Please tell me, is she all right,' I pleaded. 'She is on oxygen and resting now. The doctors don't know anything for certain yet but they think she will be all right. I left the hospital just a few moments ago. I had to because of you. You picked one hell of a time to decide to come home. If you have stayed here like I told you to instead of taking that trip to Santa Cruz this would never have happened. Get in the truck and we will go to the hospital to see her.' (Laugh) That was my father. He would always find some childishly pathetic way to turn blame my way. I was not happy to have returned home nor was he pleased that I had. However, Mom was ill and needed us both now. He and I were dedicated to be there for her whenever needed. Because of our love for her, and our fear of losing her, and despite the fact that we would never admit it to each other, this was a time when even he and I needed each other.

"When we arrived at the hospital he insisted on visiting her by himself. . I sat in the waiting room for several moments and when he was finished visiting Mom he came to get me. 'All right, you can go in to see her now, but you are NOT to stay more than five minutes. And also be sure you do not tire her out or say anything to worry or upset her,' he commanded. When I entered her room she was laying in her hospital bed, her head slightly propped forward on a large white pillow. She looked so tiny and pathetic lying there all by herself. I could see that she had applied a little lipstick to her face to better her appearance but her hand was so weak and shaky that the tube of lipstick had slipped. She looked like a broken doll some child had discarded. 'Hi, Sweetie! Oh, I'm so happy your home,' she said. 'I want to hear all about your vacation.' Her words were said slowly and, although she tried to sound energetic, they were spoken so softly and weakly that she was barely audible. 'Don't try to talk, Mama,' I said as I kissed her forehead and snuggled my cheek next to hers. 'I'll tell you all about my vacation later when you are well. Grandma and Grandpa and Marilyn are all fine. Everybody is fine. You just rest. I'm home now and everything will be o.k." She had a difficult time focusing her eyes. She was not wearing her glasses but she tried to make eye contact with me. She was exhausted and could not hide the fact from me although she tried her best by patting my cheek as she caressed my face with her cold hand. 'I am so sorry about this. Damn me for getting sick! I am so mad at myself. I've missed you so much, more than anything in the world. I didn't want you to come home and find me like this. Damn me!' she said with sincere disgust. 'Leave it to me to go and get The Pip at a time like this!' Whenever Mom was taken ill she referred to the illness as 'the pip'. In between words she would gasp for breath. 'Did you have a good time?' 'Shhhh·. don't talk now, Mama,' I answered. 'Just rest and sleep. Don't try and talk. Save your energy. Dad and I will go home now so you can sleep and we will be back first thing in the morning.' She weakly nodded her head yes and closed her eyes. Seeing her lying there, so helpless, so ill, assured me of how much I loved and needed her. 'I love you, Mama.' 'I love you too, Sweetie. I'm so sorry,' she said. 'I'll see you in the morning and everything will be better,' I promised. I had no sooner finished my sentence than she was asleep. I stood there for several moments watching her sleep and silently praying that she would survive this, her latest crisis. I knew that my father and I would have several sleepless nights worrying about her, fearing losing her, and praying she would come home again. That night we stopped to have dinner at The Far East Café, dad's favorite Chinese restaurant. He rarely spoke to me at all during dinner. He asked no questions whatsoever about my grandparents or what I had done the past summer. He did, however, tell me that the molestation trail of Mr. Huff had concluded and of its outcome. It was embarrassing for me to have him discuss this incident again. I recall just sitting there and listening to what he said, too ashamed to make eye contact or ask any questions. I don't remember us talking about anything else. Whenever we were alone together it was usually an evening of painfully uncomfortable silences. When we returned home I went directly to bed. I lay awake all night worrying about whether Mom would make it through the night. As the hours passed I listened to my father pace the floor, for he was obviously worried about the same thing.. Fortunately Mom did survive this latest crisis. Several days later she returned home and our lives continued on as usual."

Dr: "What was the decision of the court regarding Mr. Huff?"

WW: "My father said that Mr. Huff had pleaded guilty to all accusations and that he had asked for my parents forgiveness and understanding as well as for mine. Evidently the judge had given my parent's the right to pick Mr. Huff's punishment. He could either serve prison time, seek psychiatric help or be forced to leave the United States but be allowed to reestablish his life in Saudi Arabia where there were no laws against child molestation and where he could continue his teaching profession. In any case his teaching license would be revoked and he would never be allowed to teach in America again."

Dr: "And what was their choice?"

WW: "They offered Mr. Huff the opportunity for psychiatric help. My parents felt that his homosexuality was in itself not a crime·that he could not help being what he was. The molestation of a minor was the crime, but they were understanding and sympathetic as to his sexual orientation. He refused their offer saying, 'I have been through all that before and it has not and will not help.' They urged him to reconsider their offer for 'It is the easiest of the sentences' but he refused and asked if he could be granted the choice of moving to Saudi Arabia, which they approved. I am amazed how understanding my parents were regarding Mr. Huff's situation despite their anger towards him for what he had done to me. He apologized for having dislocated my arm and offered to pay all medical costs incurred for my injuries."

Dr: "And what was your reaction to all this?"

WW: "For many years I lived with the horrible fact that I was in some way responsible for a man having to leave his own country, be stripped of his profession etc. I still look back on this matter with the hardest of regrets. I just wished the whole ugly matter had never happened. I wasn't angry with him for what he had done to me. I was, however, frightened of him. I suppose in some way I was also sympathetic towards him, as it appears my parents were too."

Dr: "I think your parent's handled the sentencing of Mr. Huff with great integrity despite the personal anger they must have felt towards the man."

WW: "Yes, they did. From that point on I never had to fear him stalking me because, of course, he was out of the country. However, I tried hard never to think of him. I tried to erase all memories of the incident and never think of it. The realization that I had the power to so drastically change a person's life was terribly frightening to me. I did not want that kind of responsibility and yet it had happened. Fortunately, in that I was a minor, my name was never mentioned in the newspapers and, therefore, I didn't have to fear that people knew that I was the molested boy in the case."

Dr: "Also, out of curiosity, I have to ask: did your father retaliate any revenge towards you for the 'toothpicks and pennies' incident you had pulled when you left home to catch the bus the summer before?"

WW: (laugh) "Oh, you are referring to my scattering the toothpicks and pennies on the floors of our house to get even with my father? Yes, oh yes, he retaliated. However it was not as bad as I would have expected. Upon returning home I found an ashtray on my desk in my bedroom. It was filled with all the toothpicks and pennies I had scattered about. I did not say one word about my discovery, meaning seeing that ashtray, and neither did my father. However, on the next floor-scrubbing day the ashtray was empty. He had re-scattered the items about the floors again for me to pick up, and him to count. Nothing was said about my having intentionally scattered them when I left home. That amazed me of course but I think perhaps Mom's illness at that time, her hospitalization when I returned home, that may have over shadowed everything else."

Dr: "And your dog Cindy? Was there any mention of her, of his sending her to the pound?"

WW: "No. I knew better than to ever mention her name to him again. To do so would cause him to become enraged. I also knew how heartbroken Mom was regarding my loss and I didn't want to hurt her further."

Dr: "You had forgiven her?"

WW: "Yes. I knew she was not at all responsible and that she had done all she could do to try to save my dog. She was very, very ill that year. Her recent bout with congestive heart failure had further worsened her already chronic heart condition. My father and I did all that we could to shelter her from any problematic situations."

Dr: "We are now into the fall of 1958. Isn't that the year you began High School?"

WW: "Yes it was. I entered my freshman year at Bakersfield High School. We lived four long blocks away. I walked to and from school each day. BHS was a very large high school, laid out on four campuses. We had an enormous student body of five thousand students in all. BHS was said to be the second largest high school in the nation at that time, the largest being in New York. I don't know if that was true but that was the rumor. Bakersfield was an extremely wealthy community despite its ordinary and unexceptional appearance. It was said that there were more millionaires living there per capita than any other place in the nation. The joke was that these millionaires were simply lucky hillbillies who had moved to Bakersfield during the dust bowl period and bought land and struck oil. I believe there was truth to those rumors. Yet because of the great wealth in the community our school was a financially privileged one. Money was no object and so we had the best of everything. The curriculum at BHS was said to be so excellent that if one could get a C average there they could easily get a B average in any college in the nation after graduation."

Dr: "And how were you in school? What grades did you acquire? What were your scholastic interests?"

WW: "I was simply an average student. I did not have interest in any of my classes with the exception of drama. I spent four years at that school living only to attend my drama class. BHS had a magnificent theatre named Harvey Auditorium. This large building consisted of three theatres. One was for audio/visual production, the Little Theatre was for one act play productions and the big main theatre was for senior class plays, Christmas pageants and the like. That theatre was said to be larger than any theatre on Broadway. That was my home away from home. It was the only building at BHS that held any meaning for me.

Harvey Auditorium, Bakersfield High School

I lived to attend my daily drama class in room 101 of that building. There is a highway called Highway 101 here in California. I traveled it many times en route to Santa Cruz. It takes travelers into the most beautiful and magical locations in California. That's what room 101 did for me. It allowed me to escape the difficulties I was enduring during those troubled years. It became my haven. I found escapism in the world of the theatre. My teacher was Miss Theora Bartholomew. My classmates and I were all in awe of her. I really don't know why when I think back on it. For some reason her approval meant everything in the world to me. I recall that one year I was directing a one-act play called 'Tom Sawyer's Morning.' Impressed by some theatrical staging I had done, Miss 'B' (as we called her) remarked. 'Oh Wally! You are wonderful! Simply wonderful!' I glowed over those words of approval for days! Actually Miss 'B' was not a very demonstrative woman. She kept mostly to herself and shared little of her life with any of us. She was a handsome and somewhat mannish woman. She had told with me that she had once been engaged to marry the famous actor/dancer Gene Kelly. As a girl she had ambitions to become a professional stage actress but, as fate would have it, her mother became ill and moved in with Miss 'B'. Thus ended her engagement to Gene Kelly as well as her ambitions to become an actress. Instead she became a drama teacher. 'If you can't do it then teach it,' she would often times say in a tone of sadness and with a look of disappointment on her face.

Miss 'B'

Ironically her mother lived to be 93 years old, spending the majority of her lifetime living with Miss 'B.' She was never to marry and has spent all her adult life in Bakersfield. During my school years her main companion was her red Irish setter named Tarlock. She often time brought the dog to class with her. I suppose that my devotion to Miss 'B' was due to the fact that she always granted me the parts I wanted to act or direct in plays. I finally found that I had a talent at something and I emerged myself into theatrical productions with gusto. We students were awarded numerical points regarding the number of plays we had been involved with. The last I heard, lo all these many years later, is that I still retained the record of highest award points earner in the schools history."

Dr: "That sounds like a feat to be proud of."

WW: "It was. It mattered greatly to me then. Of course it has no meaning for me now. Yet I still recall with the warmest of memories my love for the theatre and the happiness my play productions brought to me. (Laugh) Despite the dozens, literally dozens, of productions I was in I believe my favorite part was that of The Cowardly Lion in 'The Wizard Of Oz'. I adored that part. I loved playing Peter in 'The Diary Of Ann Frank' and well as the lead in 'The Summoning Of Everyman' and 'Antic Spring.' I never cared whether I had a leading role or a character part, just so long as I loved the character I was playing. I chose playing Mr. Oshira in 'The Teahouse Of The August Moon' for that very reason. I loved the old man and felt compelled to play him. His was a small but wonderful part. I was also elected president of our Thespian Club and won the award for being 'Best Thespian'. Also during this period I became enamored with the works of playwright Tennessee Williams. I was thoroughly enthralled by his talent, and still am to this day. No one had ever touched my soul as deeply as this remarkable man who created such beauty with words. It was also at this time that I made a few special friends, more meaningful than any I had had before, with the exception of Joanie, of course."

The Teahouse of the August Moon, Bakersfield High School 1959

Dr: "Please tell me about them, your new friends."

WW: "The most important two were Nyla and Ronnie. I won't give you my friends' last names for they may not wish to be mentioned. Mine is a personal story and they will become a large part of it yet deserve their privacy. I vividly recall the day I first met Nyla. She was wearing a green and white-checkered two-piece dress with matching jacket, brown penny loafers and carrying a wooden basket type purse. She was standing in the hallway outside room 101 waiting for the door to be opened. I fell in love with her at first sight and she with me. I did not know it then but she and I had shared many past lives together and I am certain our two souls immediately, yet unknowingly at that time, recognized each other for we became almost inseparable best friends from the moment we met."

Dr: "And Ronnie? What about him?"

WW: "My attraction to Ronnie was a very strange one from the very beginning. He and I had absolutely nothing whatsoever in common. Although he was extremely bright, straight A's as a matter of fact, and considered to be a mathematical genius, Ronnie was also very athletic. I had no interest whatsoever in sports. Ronnie was also a body builder, which held no interest for me, and he loved to hunt, shoot rabbits, that type of thing. Something I could never even think of doing. He was very kind to me, however, and always referred to me as his best friend. He wanted to spend all of his free time with me. Nyla, out of sheer jealousy, detested him. Ronnie couldn't stand the sight of her and so whenever I would see them it had to be separately. That was no easy task, for Nyla monopolized my life, she having a very aggressive and demanding personality. Somehow I kept the two of them apart and yet shared equal time with them. I did not know it then but Ronnie was the one to change my life, to disrupt it in a way I would never have imagined. Two of my other favored friends were from my drama class, Sandi Deutscher and Dave Wetzel. We did many plays together and Nyla, Sandi, Dave and I all grouped together as friends. Our weekends were always spent together at the movies. We lived for movies and plays. This was our escape from our disappointment with the community in which we lived. None of us felt we belonged in Bakersfield. We felt like outcasts there. We all three vowed that when we graduated we would move to New York City or San Francisco and pursue careers in acting. Despite the fact that Woody and Gary had shared in my near death experience we three grew apart during my freshman year. I rarely ever saw them again. We simply drifted apart. I suppose we out grew each other and sought other interests. More friends would come in the years during my high school years ahead but during my first two high school years I have named the most important ones. Interestingly, most of my friends were one class ahead of me or one behind."

Dr: "Other than Room 101, your high school days had no meaning to you?"

WW: "None whatsoever. I just endured the other classes because I had to. I can barely even recall the other classes, teachers, or even what the schoolrooms looked like. It is as if I never attended any other classes. I was in a fog I suppose. I know I was smart but I also know that I did not apply myself to try learning anything that did not interest me, anything other than drama. I recall my grades being good or at least average but I know they could have been far better had I cared to learn. I just did not."

Dr: "Considering your mother's chronic illnesses and your father's sternness and indifference towards you, do you suppose that your intense interest in dramatics was because you were trying to escape from the problems of your home life?"

WW: "Yes, certainly. By playing characters in plays I could escape reality·I could put myself into other people's skins, enter other worlds, other times, other places. It was a wonderful way to detach from the problems of my own personal life. I also found that I could do the same thing as I became involved in telling fortunes during this period of my life."

Dr: "Fortune telling? What do you mean? Are you saying that you began your practice of being a clairvoyant at this time?"

WW: "Yes but not professionally. I never took money for it, but I became notorious for telling fortunes at parties. This ability to do so just appeared out of nowhere. Sometimes I would just feel compelled to tell fortunes. I usually did it with playing cards, just regular playing cards. I would simply deal them out in front of me in any random pattern once whosever fortune I was telling had cut the cards. The cards would simply sort of speak to me and I would forecast whatever events I foresaw for whomever I was reading for. I could do the same thing with handwriting too. I would have whomever right some words and then I would analyze their handwriting much as a Graphologist would but without the training. Also, rather than doing a personality profile I would use the person's handwriting to predict future events in their lives. It was all so very natural for me. The kids loved what I was doing and yet of course I gained the reputation of being an oddball."

Dr: "Did you use astrology too during these early years in your psychic development?"

WW: "No, but it fascinated me. I loved going to newspaper stands and glance through the astrology magazines. I never had the money to buy any but I would look through them for free at the newsstands. The graphics of the horoscope wheel fascinated me. The symbols seemed to talk to me much as the cards and handwriting would. I could tell if the person whose horoscope was depicted was musical, or military, political or whatever, just by looking at the horoscope wheel. All the graphics and tools of the chart fascinated me no end. However, I had no idea at that time that I would one day be utilizing these tools of that trade."

Dr: "Do you think that your near death drowning experience in Santa Cruz might have had anything to do with your suddenly beginning to feel compelled to tell fortunes?"

WW: "Yes, I do. I definitely do. Something happened to me during the time I spent somewhere in the solar system, or wherever, with the angel. I know with out question something happened. I simply don't know what it was exactly. Following that astral experience nothing in my life was ever quite exactly the same again. Prior to my drowning experience I would sometimes know about some future happening that was to occur to someone if I simply thought about him or her and wondered·you know? Images and knowledge of future happenings would just come to me, like the time, when I was five or six, I just knew that Ken Martin was going to leave Sue for a young Indian girl he had known many years before he had ever met or married Sue."

Dr: "Yes, I remember you telling me of this remarkable experience."

WW: "Well, after my near drowning experience and that journey into the astral realm with that angel, things changed regarding my predictive nature. Predictions came frequently, far more frequently. All I had to do is think about a person or have them ask me a question and answers would come forth. Also I now started sharing my predictions with others. Prior to this time I only shared these secret things with my mother. I became more confident after the near death experience and in that so many of my classmates confirmed the accuracy of my predictions that is what led to my new felt self-confidence. I had never known that feeling before. I had always had such low self-esteem that I didn't know there was another way to feel. Suddenly I was praised for being an excellent actor and director as well as an accurate psychic. I had popularity for the first time in my life and, even though I was still timid and frightened of almost everything, I was beginning to emerge into being 'me', meaning gaining an identity for myself. Yes, I was still considered an oddball and curiosity but at least I had some respect and admiration from others for the first time in my life. Getting attention felt wonderful to me despite the fact that the attention I was getting was only because of my unusualness. None-the-less it was attention and I loved the popularity. My father had never allowed me the indulgence of ego and I was famished for it. It didn't matter how this admiration came to me just so long as it did. I was terribly insecure and needy during that period of my life."

Dr: "And so for the first time that you could ever recall you received special attention and kudos? Your talents as a clairvoyant gained you the reputation of being an exceptional young fortune teller during your school years?"

WW: (laugh)"Yes, I was famous for it and for being an actor, too. I gained popularity no matter how bazaar, popularity I was somehow comfortable with despite the unusualness of my reputation. I have always been different from other people, since the beginning. I always knew that. I began to accept this difference during my high school years. Being in drama also made it easier to be different. It wasn't usual for boys to be interested in drama. Other kids were suspicious of such an interest. Drama was arty and without jock appeal. Other guys stayed clear of that and so the world of dramatics was a close family of us young little 'odd balls' that all banded together in what we thought was a greater cause. By 'greater cause' I mean to say that we considered the art of drama and the world of communication to be far more important than throwing a ball and winning a game. So, Room 101 became more than simply a classroom, it became our world. We all grouped together there and became a close family of just a few friends. These more creative kids accepted my differences. Being a psychic to them was my just being a part of who I was. I didn't much care what the kids outside of our group thought. I simply kept away from them. However, one day in 1959 a horrible incident happened that caused me a great deal of anguish and pain. I had made a prediction that had come to pass. I had no idea how dire the prediction was at the time that I made it, but I was accredited for predicting the death of one of my classmates. Her name was Barbara Mooney. Barbara was a year or two older than I, and two grades ahead of me. She was a member of my Thespian Club and in 1958 we both appeared in our schools annual Christmas pageant, 'The Feast Of Lights'. I was the narrator and Barbara played an angel. It was because of the fact that she played an angel that I gained so much notoriety.

Barbara Mooney

"She lived on Oleander Street, which was just a few blocks away from my home and yet a world apart. Oleander Street was a very prestigious and expensive neighborhood. Most of the homes along this beautiful tree lined street were what one would properly call estates. Many of the wealthy doctors and lawyers, oil barons etc. in Bakersfield live on Oleander Street. All of my facts may not be accurate for memory fails me for this was a long time back, but to the best of my recall Barbara came from a very poor family. Her father had been a policeman. Whether he died a natural death or in the line of active duty I do not recall. But Barbara, her mother, maternal grandmother and two younger sisters acquired their home on Oleander Street due to life insurance money inherited through her father's death. No, they did not own one of the large extravagant homes on the street but none-the-less they did own a home on Oleander Street and Barbara was rightfully proud of the fact considering she had come from such a financially suppressed background. In personality she was a very out-going, vivacious and friendly girl. She always made whomever she was speaking to feel very special for she would focus all her attention upon them making them feel as if every word they uttered was of greatest importance. It would be near impossible for anyone not to like her. Despite the fact that everything about Barbara's appearance seemed right: blue eyes, long blond hair, lovely breasts and shapely body, she was not particularly attractive. In truth one would refer to her as simply average or perhaps even plain. Sadly, for some reason, it was her glasses that seemed to stand out as her most noticeable feature. Barbara had a rather pathetic desperateness to her nature. She was desperate to please you, desperate to be socially accepted, desperate to be liked. Above all else she was desperate to overcome the image of her dirt-poor past and she would throw many meticulously arranged parties, inviting only the right and popular kids from the school. Oddly enough, for whatever her reason, I was always included. I think that she liked me because she knew that I was as insecure as was she. Of all her desperations the greatest was her love and passion for Jan Pyle. He was also in Barbara's junior class and also a member of our Thespian Club.

BHS Thespian Club, 1958

Walden, 1st student second row left. Jan Pyle, First student 4th row left.

Jan was the stepson of Bakersfield's most prominent and successful lawyer David Goldberg. His mother, Florence, was touted to be one of the most beautiful and sophisticated women in town. Jan was one of Bakersfield High Schools golden boys. He was from a very wealthy family, tremendously handsome, he beheld a magnetic personality, and like his mother, near worshipped and adored by nearly all who knew him. Jan was almost identical in appearance to actor Tony Perkins. The only significant difference was that Jan had blond hair rather than brunette. Barbara was totally obsessed with Jan. Her eyes literally danced whenever he entered a room. We kids were all aware of this passion she held for him. However, due to the differences in their social structure and appearances the kids pitied Barbara for it was not likely Barbara could ever land such a catch. Barbara, being of a desperate nature used every ounce of energy within both her body and soul and much to everyone's amazement did land her beau! Suddenly one day, almost out of nowhere, it was announced that the two of them planned to marry. When this amazing news broke out, tongues wagged and rumor circulated that Barbara must be pregnant. This was not the case but it seemed so improbable that Jan would have selected Barbara out of all the girls available to him. Everyone was perplexed as to why he chose Barbara. They were now in the senior year in school. Why would they marry before college? Why would Jan ruin his life, his future? Barbara must have tricked him into getting her pregnant. Nothing else seemed logical. Pre-marital sex was a very taboo thing back in the days of the 1950's. Nice girls just didn't go 'all the way' back then. Well, Barbara did what Barbara had to do to acquire her dream, and she succeeded but she was not pregnant to spite all rumors. Because of her great personal triumph we students romanticized this couple. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks had captured 'the prince'. Barbara gave hope to all of us 'average' kids that, despite the odds, something wonderful is always possible. 'Peyton Place' was the popular film and book of that time. Just like the character Betty Anderson, who was also born on the wrong side of the tracks, Barbara managed to catch and lure her own Rodney Harrington who was 'Peyton Place's' golden boy. Barbara and Jan became our school's celebrities. Their romance, like Betty and Rodney's, was an improbable one and yet it did come to be. And, like the Anderson/ Harrington romance, it too was destined to end in tragedy. What happened was this. One weekend evening Barbara threw a party and I was invited along with most all of my favorite friends. During the party Barbara asked me to read for her - you know, tell her fortune. I recall that I used playing cards. I spread them out on the floor where we were sitting. Several other kids were circled there with us, watching as I read. Barbara asked several questions regarding her upcoming wedding·would she have children·where would they live·predictable questions of that sort. The first image that came to my mind was of a car. In my minds eye I kept seeing a sports car. The name of the car the letter 'P' but I could not read the name for the image was blurred or foggy. 'Is it a Plymouth?' one of the kids asked. 'No, it's a sports car, white and foreign, it has a foreign name,' I replied. 'Maybe it's a Pontiac,' someone else offered. 'A Pontiac is not a foreign car!' another kid answered back. 'A Peugeot?' someone asked. 'No! It's a Porsche,' Barbara giggled gleefully. 'Jan and I are getting a black Porsche sports car as a wedding present but it hasn't arrived yet! Gosh, Wally you're amazing! I can't believe you can see that when nobody but me, not even Jan, knew about this yet! It was supposed to be a surprise and now you have ruined it with your psychic know-it-all! You're amazing!' she exclaimed. 'What else do you see? I'm trying to choose my wedding dress. I can't make up my mind as to which one to buy. Maybe you can see which one I should get,' she asked. 'I see you dressed like an angel,' I replied. 'I see you dressed in a long shiny white dress that is made of satin. A golden light seems to be emanating from you. There is a glow around your head and body. You look just like an angel,' I replied. 'Thank you! You have just decided for me,' Barbara exclaimed. 'The one dress I have especially favored is the one my mom likes. She says it looks like the dress I wore when I played an angel in the Christmas pageant last December. It's the wedding dress I really want. I don't care what mom says. After all, it is my wedding and so I should be the one to choose. I picked it out of a catalogue from The Broadway Bridal Shoppe in Los Angeles. You've given me "the sign" and I will order it and pick it up as soon as it's ready.' 'No!' I replied abruptly. I was, in fact so abrupt that I startled even myself. 'Have the store ship it to you. DON'T pick it up! It's important that you DON'T pick it up! I don't know why, it just is.' 'But why? I can't do that because I will have to have it fitted,' Barbara relied quizzically. 'No. You shouldn't pick it up. I don't know why, but you shouldn't. Something will go wrong if you do. It will spoil your wedding plans,' I answered nervously. As I studied the cards I hesitated as to how to interpret the messages I was receiving for the feelings I was getting were not happy or favorable ones. I knew I must be very careful as to how I presented this information for I did not want to frighten Barbara. Up until this moment I do not recall ever having received frightening messages. In each instance when she asked a question regarding her upcoming marriage, I just did not see, or sense, that it would happen. I did not want to tell her the truth because I knew how upset and disappointed that information would make her. It was an ordeal for me to try to continue Reading, but I went on and intentionally deleted and censored information I was receiving. Certain things I felt compelled to tell her despite my not wanting to do so. 'I really don't want you to buy that dress in L.A. It would be better if you bought one here in town,' I insisted. 'Los Angeles is not a good place for you to be. Something awful could happen to you there. Please, just buy your wedding dress here in town. Brock's Department store is great. Brock's has a beautiful wedding Shoppe. They will probably have a dress just like the one you want. If not, you could order it. The cards also tell me that you shouldn't have bought that black car. Sports cars are dangerous and it would be better if you cancelled getting that car. I'm seeing a green Chevrolet station wagon. It is driving very, very fast. Something is wrong with it. It's going too fast and driving in the wrong lane of the road. Your grandmother sees the car. It's coming towards her and she screams. Does she drive? Does your grandmother drive?' I asked urgently. 'No, of course not. She's too old to drive! This doesn't make sense at all. Let me ask my questions.' Barbara was obviously agitated with me and suddenly changed the subject. 'I want to know if my wedding will be beautiful? Will everything go as I hope and plan?' she asked. 'No. There will be changes from what you have planned but from what the cards tell me everything will be very beautiful. I see you dressed in white looking like an angel and surrounded by lighted candles and vases full of gardenias and tiny white roses. I hear organ music, too, and all of your family and favorite friends will be there. Everybody will all be dressed up in black and white.'

Dr: "Oh! My! You are describing Barbara's funeral aren't you?"

WW: "Yes, although I really did not know it at the time. A couple of weeks later Barbara and Jan graduated from high school. The week after that Barbara, against my warning, was in Los Angeles shopping for her wedding dress. She had taken her grandmother with her. Barbara had driven her new black Porsche sports car. A dark green 1956 Chevrolet station wagon had crossed over the double line in the freeway crashing head-on into Barbara's Porsche. Both cars were estimated to be traveling at the speed of 75 mph. Three of the four passengers were killed instantly. Barbara's grandmother lingered in a coma for several days and then died. The white satin angel-like wedding dress Barbara had just purchased was undamaged in the wreckage, boxed and in the rear seat of her car. Barbara was buried in it. I did not attend her funeral. I was too upset and frightened to. Word had gotten around about by dire prediction. When the kids who had been at the party put all the facts regarding my reading together, Barbara's accident certainly made sense. I had unknowingly predicted the tragedy and there were those that blamed me for not being more definite about warning Barbara about the accident. The 1958 school yearbook; The Oracle had recently been printed. Barbara had signed her name on each picture of herself that appeared in the book. One photo was that of the angel she had portrayed in our Christmas pageant. The image of her portraying the Christmas angel naturally haunted everybody. Had she known about her impending death? Was her portrayal of an angel an omen? Several students shunned and ignored me. Others were pleasant to me but uncomfortable in my presence. I received two or three threatening telephone calls after her death. 'You better be careful if you know what's good for you, Oracle! Someone may be after you. Watch yourself,' threats like that. One night someone actually threw tomatoes at our home. I was terribly afraid and Mom was afraid for me and so I stayed away from Barbara's funeral. I wanted badly to attend. Due to the controversy I had created and for my own personal safety it just was not appropriate for me to do so."

The Feast Of Lights" BHS production 1959

Walden far left in robe on platform holding cross. Barbara Mooney upper right hand corner in window. Circled photo of angel.

Dr: "Did you feel in anyway responsible for her death? Do you feel you could have done more to prevent it?"

WW: "No. I was confused by the messages and symbols I was receiving myself. I really did not know I was foreseeing Barbara's death. I do, however, believe that I was tuning into her destiny and what was meant to be. That's all that psychics do really, but I was too young and inexperienced to know this at that time. We all have our own individual destinies. God has a divine plan for each of us. Sometimes His plan appears to be ugly or tragic to those in flesh bodies, but in reality has great significance for the soul development of the entity involved.. I believe that Barbara's accident was part of God's plan, part of her destiny, and I was just The Reader of her prearranged fate. That is the way my mother explained it to me when I questioned her as to why' I had to be given the knowledge of such tragic news. 'God shares his plans with you. That you were able to foresee Barbara's car accident is because that accident was obviously something that was already set in motion, meant to happen, in the event's of Barbara's life. We don't know why. God has His reason. You were simply able to glimpse into the future events planned for Barbara's life·to read the map she was to travel. I believe that God knows that one day you will understand more of His reasons and ways and that you will be comforting to those in need and will help them to understand. Don't be frightened or angry that you were given this gift. In time you will come to understand it and use it wisely and realize how truly blessed you were to be given it,' she said."

Dr: "I am sure that in all you have learned and studied regarding your abilities, since back in those days, that you have discovered Julia's words to prove true."

WW: "Of course. The circumstances surrounding Barbara's death were very frightening for me back in 1959. I had never received such negative information before that experience. It was more than I, as a child, could comprehend or know how to deal with. Circumstances as negative as those predicted for her rarely happen. It is not a frequent occurrence to be given such negative visions. At that time I felt terribly responsible for not having done more to prevent her from heeding my message, but I was totally unaware that she had decided not to follow my advice to buy her wedding dress in Los Angeles until I heard the news of her death. Unfortunately for me I was just the Oracle who bore the bad news. Was it the Greeks or the Roman's who slew the bearer of bad news?"

Dr: (Laugh) Perhaps both. However, you were not slain. You were merely threatened, misunderstood and ridiculed by those who were ignorant. Anyone with a psychic gift must also sometimes bear sad news."

WW: "Well anyway, few asked me to Read for them again after that and I was grateful that they did not. When I did Read I would only give news that was positive. "

Dr: "And so you ended your sophomore year with the sad news of Barbara Mooney's death. That, of course, was most unfortunate for you. You became misunderstood and alienated by many of your classmate. Did your close friends stand by you?"

WW: "Yes, my friends stayed loyal to me and did not hold me in anyway responsible for Barbara's death."

Dr: "You were so young. It was such a sad way to end your sophomore year, any year for that matter."

WW: "Yes, it was. However, following Barbara's death, something really quite wonderful happened for me that summer of my sophomore year. Something I would never in a million years would have expected. I was walking home from school late one afternoon. I usually walked to and from school on either H Street or I Street but for some unknown reason I chose to walk down Chester Avenue on this day. I rarely, if ever, used that route. As I cut through the parking lot of Clarke's Broiler Restaurant (my house was across the street) I could hear a dog frantically barking. The sound was distant and muffled but the poor dog was baking so frantically that I turned around and stopped to see what car the dog was in. There, in a blue 1957 Ford, to my sheer shock and amazement was my little dog Cindy! She was all by herself, locked inside. She was so excited to see me that she was jumping up and down and thrusting herself against the window of the driver's side of the cab. She was wetting herself and spraying urine everywhere. Her excitement was just too much for her! Seeing her, knowing that she was really there, it felt as if someone had stabbed a blade into my heart. I walked slowly towards the car clutching my stomach so that I would not vomit. I could barely fit all my fingers inside the small space in the window which was left open for Cindy to get air. She nipped and licked each and every finger as I tried to make contact with her. It was awful not to be able to hold her and I began to cry. It was like I was visiting her in a prison and we were separated by glass. Suddenly there was a man behind me. He had been dining inside the restaurant. Seeing what was happening between Cindy and I, hearing the ruckus of her barking and yelping, he came outside. 'My Goodness! You two certainly seem to know each other,' he said. 'Yes,' I cried. 'She's my dog! Her name is Cindy and she was my dog.' 'Well for goodness sake! Step aside and let me open the door so you two and get reacquainted,' he said. I jumped inside the cab where Cindy and I exchanged kisses and hugs. 'We call her Betsy now,' the man said. 'I'm Ed Holloway and I adopted Betsy - Cindy last year. My wife and two children and I live across town on Monterey Street. Your Cindy seems to be very, very happy living there with us. Why, may I ask, did you ever give her away?' After I explained the situation of my fathers insistence that Cindy be sent to the pound Mr. Holloway remarked, 'Well should matters have perhaps changed by now, perhaps your father might reconsider allowing you to readopt Cindy?' 'He would never allow that. It wouldn't matter how much I begged or pleaded. Why would you ever think of giving her back to me? Don't you want her?' I asked rather amazed. 'Of course I want her. I love her. My children would be heartbroken to lose her, as would be my wife. However, what is fair is fair. She was taken from you against your permission and I thought that perhaps I might convince my family to let you have her back should your parents permit. It is obvious how much you two love each other. I am so sorry you have been separated from your Cindy. We will have to arrive at some sort of compromise for all of our sakes including hers. I think that I can offer you a reasonable alternative should you choose to accept. Since you state that your father would refuse to allow you to take your dog back, I have an idea that might work for you as well as for my family. I can make arrangements to pick you up on any Saturday or Sunday morning and drive you to my home where you can spend the day visiting Cindy, and my family too, of course. We could share her and your father need never be the wiser. It can be a secret kept amongst ourselves.' Knowing that these would be the only conditions in which I would ever be able to see my beloved little dog again, the wonderful Mr. Holloway and I made arrangements for he and Cindy to meet me in the parking lot of Clarke's Broiler the following Saturday morning. I sat in the car for a long while holding my dog. When it was time for them to leave Mr. Holloway told me, 'Give her a kiss goodbye till next Saturday and how about a hug for me, too?' I hugged the dear man closely and kissed him on the cheek. 'God bless you Mr. Holloway,' I said. 'Thank you! Thank you so much! Thank you!' It broke my heart to wave goodbye to my little pet and as soon as she and Mr. Holloway were out of sight I ran across the street screaming. 'Mama! Mama! I saw Cindy. She's alive! Cindy didn't die! Cindy's alive!'"

Dr: "Thank you for this! This is the loveliest of stories!"

WW: "The following Saturday I met Mr. Holloway in the parking lot of Clarke's Broiler Restaurant as we had planned. He drove me to his home where he introduced me to his wife and two children. They asked me to have lunch with them and so the four of us dined between my playing with my beloved dog Cindy. His two young children, Jennifer and Alex, joined Cindy and I in games and I found it heartwarming how Cindy would jump into each of their laps and excitedly wiggle as she kissed and licked their faces. I found the love and affection she felt for those two children to be personally healing for me. I had missed her so desperately and now found that she could go on with her life and love again even as she had loved me. I did not feel jealousy. I experienced a feeling of great relief. I never returned to the Holloway home to see my friend Cindy again, for I knew with absolute certainty that she was loved and loving and well. I also knew for the sake of my own heart that I had to let go. I believe I became a man that day. I learned the great lesson that one must sometimes let go of someone he loves to prove he truly loves them. I learned to accept disappointment, to stop asking for things I could not have. I stepped out of my childhood that summer of 1959 and left the little boy 'Wally' behind. I remember 1958 and '59 as the years in which I learned a great deal about loss and about love. In the following year I would learn even more about matters of the heart for I would fall in love only this time it wouldn't be with a puppy but rather with a person. It was to be a most unexpected and strange love that would forever change my life."

About The Blues

Part 15

In Touch With His Soul

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