I first met Sylvia Fraser at a workshop I was giving in Toronto. She had been told about the workshop by a mutual sociologist/friend, Ted Mann. Someone there had warned me to be careful with my delivery because “there may be a reporter in the audience,” though I wasn’t sure what to be worried about. In any event, before the opening talk Sylvia introduced herself to me, and asked if it was okay to record the workshop. I agreed. About an hour into the talk, I mentioned to the audience that the data I was about to discuss had not yet been published, and so I requested that they exercise discretion. The next thing I heard was the click of Sylvia turning off her tape recorder. I was impressed.
A few weeks after the workshop, Sylvia approached me with an offer to cowrite a book on my “story.” She said that she believed it was an important story, and that I “could” write it, but probably wouldn’t. She also said that if I wrote it in my academic style, no one would read it! And so a partnership was born.
It has been a wonderful partnership. Sylvia is a professional par excellence. In addition to her obvious talents as a wordsmith (eleven books to her credit), she is focused, detail oriented, and persistent. The many hours we spent in interviews passed not only painlessly, but were actually enjoyable. Her mastery of the many facts and chronologies that went into the writing of this book was impressive, to say the least. If I ever need to know anything about myself ... well, you get the picture. And so for whatever may come of this venture, Sylvia must be acknowledged as the prime mover of this book. I am deeply grateful for her integrity and commitment to the research described here.
There are so many people who have shared the ongoing journey about which you will read in this book that it is impossible to credit them all. And so, in advance, apologies to those omitted, and pardon to those mentioned who might have preferred anonymity. The most obvious person to acknowledge is Bennett Mayrick, who despite the occasional turbulence reported here, is clearly among the dominant influences in my life. His talent and uniqueness have had a profoundly lasting effect on me. I have also recently reconnected with Ben’s son Stuart, who has generously provided insight and illumination about his dad. Appreciation also goes out to the people who have been treated by the techniques reported here. All their names have been changed to protect their privacy, but their obvious courage has often inspired me and helped me understand the complexities of the alternative medicine world.
I would like to emphatically thank those who have helped me in my pursuit of data and research, which I consider to be the most fundamental part of this story. I was first introduced to quality research on healing by reading the incredible pioneering work of Bernard Grad. All of us who do research in healing should forever be grateful to the path he blazed at McGill University against enormous opposition. He will always be the “Great Grad” to me, in addition to becoming my friend and supporter.
Dave Krinsley, friend and geologist, set up and funded the initial cancer experiments reported here. Without him, my story would be very different. It was also Dave Krinsley who introduced me to the Society for Scientific Exploration, which has become the central base from which I have reported my ongoing research. That society, founded several decades ago by some pioneering scientists, remains an oasis for serious scientists unafraid of bringing rigorous methods to the study of anomalies. Peter Sturrock (astrophysics, Stanford University), Bob Jahn (engineering, Princeton University), Ian Stevenson (psychiatry, University of Virginia), to name a few of the founders, serve as role models for scientific bravery. Already eminent in traditional fields, they were unafraid of pushing the boundaries.
I cannot overstate what a breath of fresh air the Society for Scientific Exploration has been for me and hundreds of other scientists. At the annual meetings I have been enriched by the challenges and encouragement of so many people, including (alphabetically) Marsha Adams, Imants Baruss, Henry Bauer, K. C. Blair, Richard Blasband, John Bockris, Stephen Braude, Courtney Brown, Eugene Carpenter, Adam Curry, James DeMeo, York Dobyns, Larry Dossey, Brenda Dunne, Tom Dykstra, Laurence Fredrick, Bruce Greyson, Jay Gunkelman, Bernard Haisch, Nand Harjani, Luke Hendricks, Elissa Hoeger, Patrick Huyghe, Robert Jahn, Joie Jones, David Krinsley, Yury Kronn, Dave Leiter, John MacLean, Ted Mann, Francesca McCartney, Carl Medwedeff, Garret Moddel, Margaret Moga, Roger Nelson, Jan Petersen, Rosemarie Pilkington, Dean Radin, John Reed, Glen Rein, Beverly Rubik, Lev Sadovnik, Savely Savva, Rupert Sheldrake, Richard Shoup, Nancy Smoot, Peter Sturrock, Maria Syldona, Charles Tolbert, Chantal Toporow, Mark Urban-Lurain, John Valentino, Harald Walach, Mike Wilson, and Bob Wood. Thank you, all. I can only hope that I have given you something back.
The research reported here has been sponsored by a variety of institutions. In temporal order, I’d like to thank Queens College of the City University of New York, coordinated by David Krinsley and Marv Wasserman; St. Joseph’s College, coordinated by Carol Hayes; Arizona State University, coordinated by David Krinsley; the University of Connecticut Medical Center, coordinated by Pramod Srivastava; and the Indiana University School of Medicine, coordinated by Margaret Moga and Roy Geib. Obvious thanks also go out to the skeptical student volunteers who had their worldviews shaken by the research.
A special thanks goes to St. Joseph’s College, New York. In an era when scientific orthodoxy reigns supreme and researchers can be blackballed for challenging the status quo, St. Joseph’s College has been consistently supportive of my efforts. While I may be viewed as a bit eccentric because of my research interests, the administration of the college has supported me with sabbaticals, faculty small grants, and even reduced teaching loads. My department, a bit quirky in its own right, has also been tolerant and immensely supportive. I am grateful for their collective generosity.
On a personal note, I would also like to single out Don Murphy, a biologist friend, formerly with the National Institutes of Health, who has a rare combination of intelligence, integrity, and open-mindedness. His selfless advice to me over the past several years has been invaluable. We have published an article together on the question of whether healing can be taught, and have collaborated on a number of research projects that will be reported in the near future.
On the home front, I would like to thank my kids, Brian and Liz, for putting up with, and even encouraging, the passions of their strange dad! Ditto for my sister and brother, and their spouses and families. Finally, on the most personal note, I would like to dedicate this book to my wife, Joann—my intellectual muse, chief supporter, and best friend. She is the love of my life.
The breakthrough research in this book, the fascinating story, and the charismatic voice all belong to Bill Bengston. My enjoyable task was to bring this seminal work to as broad a public as possible, in as timely a fashion as possible.
Vital to this enterprise are Bruce Westwood, Carolyn Forde, and Natasha Daneman of Westwood Creative Artists; editor Haven Iverson and contracts administrator Jaime Schwalb, and the rest of the energetic Sounds True team. A special thanks to Anna and Julian Porter for their support, advice, and enduring friendship.