Real-Life X-Files (29 page)

Figure 27.1.“Golden door” photograph.

I telephoned Kennedy about two of the other “miracle” effects, and he was already familiar with one of them. Sight unseen, simply from my de scription of the alleged “angel wings,” he diagnosed light leakage into the Polaroid film pack. My subsequent experimentation confirmed his explanation and showed how the leakage could have occurred (
figure 27.2
).

Fortunately, my experimentation also provided an explanation for the remaining effect—one that had at first puzzled both Kennedy and me as well as some professional photographers and film processors I consulted. The effect was that of a
chart
superimposed on one picture. The chart was slightly out of focus but nevertheless unmistakable. One of the girls at the site thought she could see in the blurred printing the name of a deceased friend. Where had the chart come from? It appeared to have resulted from a double exposure, although the Polaroid OneStep camera should not ordinarily permit that to occur. Suddenly, I realized that the card atop the film pack, which protects the film from light and which is ejected when the pack is first loaded into the camera, has a chart printed on its underside! Indeed, that was clearly the mysterious chart in question, somehow appearing in mirror image in the photograph taken by the Sunday school teacher. But how had it gotten onto one photo? My subsequent experiments showed it was possible to produce such an effect by light leakage (the same culprit that produced the “angel wings”). The light had leaked in between the card and the first potential photograph, bouncing off the white card and onto the light-sensitized surface of the film, thus making an exposure of a portion of the chart. In this way it was superimposed on the first photograph made from that pack (
figure 27.3
).

Figure 27.2. &“Angel wings” effect.

Figure 27.3. Detail of “miracle” chart superimposition. (Experimental photos by Joe Nickell)

Taken together, the evidence from all four photographs, some of which had multiple effects, provided corroborative evidence that the film pack was somehow mishandled and admitted light, maybe by the front having been pulled down with the thumb on being inserted into the camera, or even by someone having sat on the pack. Since the other major effect, the golden door, was due to the construction of the camera, there was therefore no indication of hoaxing with any of the pictures.

On the television program, my comments were edited down to very brief but sufficient explanations. The treatment of the photographs was uneven from a skeptical point of view. The “faces” were greatly enhanced to make them look more realistic. Commendable was the use of an effective graphics technique whereby the chart was placed on the screen beside the chart-bearing photo, then flopped so as to superimpose it on the photo.

Skeptics who watched the segment with me laughed loudly at the
conclusion of my interview when the narrator commented,“Rational explanations may satisfy some people, but.…” This comment was followed by various “miracle” claims that went unchallenged. I had not only explained how the “golden door” photos are made, but I showed several of them for the
Unsolved Mysteries
camera (again see
figure 27.1
); however, this was omitted from the program even though such photos were described as “mysterious ” Also omitted were my explanations for silver rosaries supposedly turning to gold—either due to tarnishing or the rubbing off of the silver plating to expose the copper or brass beneath (Nickell 1993b). I included an explanation for a new claim: glass-beaded rosaries were supposedly turning, momentarily, a golden color; I theorized that the faceted beads were reflecting the golden light of the sun. Much ado was made about people reportedly seeing the sun pulsate, spin, or exhibit other phenomena—all arguably due to optical effects resulting from staring at the sun, which I discussed at some length in my
Looking for a Miracle
(1993b). Many pilgrims also had claimed to see showers of golden flakes, which I attributed to their having looked at the bright sun (even though some insisted they had not looked
directly
at the sun), or to a dappling of sunlight through the canopy of tree leaves, or to the power of suggestion—or a combination. All of my comments about such other phenomena, including faith healing, ended up on the cutting-room floor.

The program did end on a rather skeptical note, with program host Robert Stack stating: “It is interesting to note that the local Catholic church has declined to recognize Valley Hill as anything out of the ordinary. The rest of us will have to decide for ourselves.” Unfortunately, they will have to decide without the benefit of all of the skeptical evidence. Thats why I sometimes refer to the television show as “Unsolving Mysteries.”

References

Nickell, Joe. 1993a.Miracles in Kentucky.
Skeptical Inquirer
17(2) (winter): 120- 22.

———.1993b.
Looking for a Miracle: Weeping Icons, Relics, Stigmata, Visions and Healing Cures
,177-78,196-97. Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus.

Chapter 28

Everyone knows what fortune-telling is supposed to be, but sometimes it might best be defined as “the art of absconding with fortunes.” For example, in 1995 a London gypsy who called herself “Mrs. Marina” persuaded a man to hand over his life’s savings, some £3,000. The thirty-five-year-old postman, whom police described as “intelligent but unsophisticated,” contacted the woman about his severe depression. She informed him that his stomach was harboring evil and instructed him to return with a tomato, a photo of his fiancée, and £350 in cash. As the
Evening Standard
(London) reported:“In the darkened flat, the tomato was swapped for another without the man s knowledge. When she cut it open, a hair was extracted—a sign, the frightened man was told, that the evil was still present. By now in a state of near-panic, he promised to return with his entire savings of £3,000.” This time the credulous postman was shown an egg filled with blood, whereupon he fainted. When he revived, the money he had clutched to his stomach was gone. “The evil has been removed,” the soothsayer claimed.“You can go.” When the man later attempted to get his money back, she told him she had burned it and buried the ashes in a cemetery. She later claimed to police that the money was “payment for services” but did eventually return it to avoid facing charges (Delgado 1995).

Typically the practitioners of the egg/tomato trick are
gypsies
, the term having derived from“Egyptian” due to a mistaken notion of their ancestry. They were actually exiled from northwestern India in the first millennium
A
.
D
. and in the Middle Ages sought asylum in Romania, hence their other designation as
Romanies
or (as they prefer)
Roma
(“Gypsies”
1960; Popp 1997). They constitute an ethnic group who “essentially live outside the cultures of the countries in which they choose to reside” and who often treat nongypsies as“fair game for their fortune-telling, curse-lifting and other superstitious ministrations” (Randi 1995). According to William Lindsay Gresham in his fascinating book on carnivals,
Monster Midway
(1953):

The gypsies call fortunetelling
pen dukkerin
. It is the traditional trade of gypsy women the world over and throughout history. But along with it goes another art called
hokkani boro
—the great trick. A credulous patron (usually a housewife), after having her fortune told, is initiated by the gypsy into the magic of making money double itself when the proper spell is chanted over it. The money is wrapped in a handkerchief and must be “dreamed on”—placed under the pillow at night. Next morning, when the gypsy comes again, lo and behold, the sum is twice that which was tied into the handkerchief. This time the housewife takes all her savings, sometimes even borrows from relatives and neighbors, and has the gypsy tie it up and chant over it. So much money must have more time to double itself—usually three weeks, and the gypsy exacts an oath that the owner will not tamper with the bundle until the spell has had a chance to work.

The gypsy never returns and the bundle, when opened, naturally contains a roll of wrapping paper, cut into the size of dollar bills. This is
hokkani boro
, old when the pyramids were new, and still good for taking off modest scores, although it has landed more than one Romany
chi
in the
staripen
(pokey to you) and in frontier days in Tennessee, got one old gypsy woman burned at the stake for pulling this trick.

Continues Gresham:

Another Romany name for this dodge is
hakk’ni panki
, from which
hanky-panky
, as a synonym for trickery of any sort, probably
stems.
¹⁰

There is a counting rhyme among English children which goes:

Eckery ackery ookery an,

Fillisy, follasy, Nicholas John….

which is pure Romany double-talk:

Ekkeri, akai-ri, u kair—an.

Fillissin, follasy Nakelas ja’n….

It means, literally:

First, here, you begin.
Castle, gloves; go on, you can’t play!

The interesting thing is that this nonsense rhyme in Romany is the traditional spell uttered over the handkerchief containing the money! Children have retentive memories and a great many of them down the centuries, listening at the keyhole while the gypsy crone enchanted the cash, must have heard this time-honored formula.

Increasingly, fortune-telling is practiced by the
gorgio
(nongypsies)—a trespass the true Roma may find hard to forgive (Gresham 1953). In any event,“the great trick” remains part of their legacy. As Gresham indicates, it is sometimes performed without the egg or tomato. Such was the case in Toronto in 1971. A sixty-two-year-old woman was persuaded to withdraw her “cursed” money from the bank—some $9,300—which the fortune-teller placed in a red cloth and“blessed.” The cloth was sewn shut and the woman told not to open it for at least two weeks. There-upon she discovered $35 and pieces of paper (“Woman” 1971).

Quite often the
hokkani boro
is facilitated by use of an egg or tomato—or both—and the techniques are extremely varied. For example, a quite sinister tomato was the device used to bilk one woman of over $20,000. She had visited a soothsayer named “Sister Bella,” who duly divined that the credulous woman was threatened by an evil force. To counter it, she was instructed to return the following day with a handkerchief and a fresh tomato. Passing the tomato over the woman’s body, Sister Bella then wrapped it in the handkerchief and instructed the woman to crush it with her foot. Out of the bloody pulp stared an ominous black lizard—a sure sign of the predicted evil. Sister Bella explained that such evil—perhaps cancer or other disaster—resulted from money that had a lingering curse, possibly from ill-gained dollars passed onto her.“Take all your money except a few hundred dollars out of the bank,” instructed Sister Bella. “This money I will convert from evil to good by special magic venerated for over three thousand years.” The gypsy sewed the money in a pillowcase and instructed her client to place the bag in her safe deposit box for three months. When the bundle was finally opened, it contained not the purified $22,000, but a mere $22 and strips of paper (Rachleff 1971).