Perspectives - Vol. 1, No. 2 - Persephone And Her Owls: Three Instances Of Preternatural Knowledge

This article is concerned with placing on record three instances of information being acquired by means which would seem to defy all accepted explanation other than that of paranormal communication. It is important, though increasingly difficult as the tale unfolds, to bear in mind that the two ladies, whom I refer to as Persephone and Cassandra, are totally unknown to each other. They have never met and neither of them knows the name of the other or where she lives. The only thing they have in common is that they know me. There is no possibility that either of them could have communicated with the other by any normally accepted means.

In the summer of 1973 Persephone and her husband wished to take a holiday in the Aegean, which presented them with the problem of her phobic terror of flying. She consulted me professionally for help and we were able to get her to the Greek mainland without too much difficulty - the plane being of the jumbo variety and so large and steady that she could almost persuade herself that she wasn't airborne at all. The flight from the mainland to one of the islands, however, was a very different matter -- a small high-winged monoplane with uninterrupted vistas of sea and sky from the windows of its tiny cabin, and she literally vomited with fear. Nevertheless, having got to their island, she enjoyed her holiday and brought back for me, as a memento, a small statuette of a typical Athene owl.

On 10th September of that year I showed the owl to Cassandra (and to four others who were also present around a luncheon table) on the basis of "look what someone has had the kindness to give me." Her first reaction was to ask what wood it was carved from. In fact, it is of stone. For a few moments this was commented upon and general admiration of the workmanship expressed. Having thus achieved my sole purpose in producing it at all, I then put out my hand to take the owl back from Cassandra. She, however, would not relinquish her hold on it and the following conversation took place:

I said that as far as I knew it had never been lost, and then following a different line of thought, that it was not an archaeological "find" (which, in appearance, it might have been).

I could only say that perhaps in the sense that those who gave it to me had been much taken with it themselves, it had been lost to them when they gave it to me. Cassandra was not impressed.

"There's distress and upset connected with it; it wasn't where it ought to have been" -- and then -- "The person who gave it to you: there's a lot of tension there?"

Cassandra paused and then said, "I see nothing. I've a picture of wide-open nothingness, like air or sea. It's an unsupported feeling, nothing there to give security, all props gone it's that sort of fear."

Being accustomed to taking verbatim notes, [ wrote the above account within minutes of the incident occurring. Later that same day I asked Cassandra if she could amplify what she lad said:

"That feeling of emptiness - there was a blankness which translated into sea and sky. That was nasty -- it really was "lost," completely lost, not nice lost - different from someone searching for it, though I knew it wasn't where it should have been - which is why I asked you where it had been found."

This was impressive. Cassandra had no knowledge that Persephone existed, even less hat she had given me the owl or that she had a tying phobia. My only purpose in producing he owl had been to show off a thing of skill and beauty. Everyone who sees it for the first time till assumes it to be made of wood.

I felt I knew Persephone well enough to ask for her reactions. Without giving any indication of identity, I sent Cassandra's initial words (but not her amplification of them) to Persephone --referring to Cassandra as a lady my acquaintance who lived in Worcestershire. Her reply needs to be quoted at some length:

It needs to be explained that the owl in question had been seen a few days earlier by Persephone and her husband, but she had decided to buy it only on the day of their departure -- only to find she could not remember where she had seen it. Her letter continues:

This is perhaps even more impressive than might seem at first sight because, for reasons of professional confidentiality, I had said nothing to Cassandra about Persephone's personal difficulties and nothing to Persephone about Cassandra having expressed two types of "lostness." In fact, Persephone was indeed assailed by problems which could be well described as "being lost" (in respect of the direction she wished her life to take). The holiday had been prompted by a need to take time away from her normal daily routine in an attempt to find her way back to a path which she felt she had lost. Her letter to me ends with:

There is, though, more to the story of Persephone and Cassandra than one small stone owl. Persephone had long been interested in what one nowadays terms "megalithic culture," and many sites associated with it (e.g. Carnac, Avebury, Stonehenge, Callanish, etc.). There came a time when I felt that her preoccupation with such matters might be diverting her attention from more immediate problems, and we discussed this possibility on several occasions.

In April of 1975 after one such discussion, she presented me with a second owl (again as a memento of a holiday in Greece). On the 27th of that month I took this second owl to Cassandra, who knew nothing whatsoever of anything that had transpired since she had handled the first owl two years before (I had not even shown her Persephone's reply to my letter). Obviously she could not avoid assuming that there might be a connection between the two owls, and if I expected anything it was that there might be reference to the flying phobia. What in fact she said was:

"Somewhere in the future she's going to come to a decision; she may make the choice of delving into paganism which gives her confidence and strength and a feeling of power and there is danger there --danger for her."

On the 27th February 1979 (some four years later) without any knowledge that Cassandra had been shown the second owl, and without any prompting from me, Persephone says:

"I'm coming to a parting of the ways -- a real dividing point - a crisis point in my life. I know the 'stones' could deflect me. I know that."

One could, of course, explain Persephone's words as the result of her discussions with me, but that cannot be thee explanation of Cassandra's words four years previously. The most one could possibly say is that Cassandra had somehow picked up my knowledge of Persephone. This, however, is an untenable hypothesis when one considers the final incident in this series of events.

On the 14th July 1982 Cassandra had occasion to phone me about some totally unrelated matter. At the end of the conversation, and to my considerable surprise, she asked "How is Persephone?" In fact, I was due to see her (Persephone) the following day -- of which fact Cassandra could have had no inkling whatsoever - and as I had had no contact with Persephone for several months, I could only say that I didn't know how things were with her. Cassandra's reply was:

For the first time in almost ten years I gave Cassandra a piece of factual information about Persephone -- viz. that she had been a teacher working with disturbed handicapped children and was therefore not without experience of working with people in trouble. Cassandra went on:

"No - not children, adults: battered wives, people in that kind of trouble - yes, battered wives, she should work with them."

"I've got a part-time job! No -- it's not with children, I don't want to teach any more. You'd think that's what I ought to do, but I don't want to any more. I've been accepted as a volunteer by [the local] Probation Office and I go each week to a support group for women in trouble -- battered wives, and women with husbands in prison ... there's a hostel for battered wives, and I've said I'd be interested to see it." There was nothing in my mind to suggest that Persephone had been contemplating a job; far less was there anything to suggest the nature of the job she-chose. And yet Cassandra was able to use the very words which Persephone used, and to do so the day before Persephone spoke them to me. I have no wish, in this article, to speculate on how this was done, I simply wish to put on record that it was done.