THE DEVIL and KAREN KINGSTON
by ROBERT W. PELTON
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 PARTICIPANTS
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 EXORCISMS
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.
No response.
“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.
“How long?”
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 Oui-Ja 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