Autobiography

I never did anything heroic during my tour of duty and upon receiving my discharge in July of 1969, I returned to New Orleans. About a month after I received my discharge, I received a Naval Achievement medal with a combat V for my work at Thong Duc. My section chief, Sgt. John Sanders, nominated me for the medal a couple of months before my rotation date after another marine in my section received one.

Sgt. Sanders did not believe that this other marine did anything to earn his medal. This was especially after another sergeant nominated this other marine for the same medal. He did so after verbally praising my work at Thong Duc to the entire artillery battery. Then the other sergeant promptly ignored me and nominated the other marine because they were friends.

However, I looked upon what I had done as just what I was supposed to do. Besides, this incident only reinforced my belief that the getting of medals of valor during war is just being in the right place at the right time or knowing the right people, as did the other marine.

For example, I saw one marine get a purple heart just because he scratched his forehead when he tripped while running to his bunker when we were taking incoming mortar fire. He didn’t get hit with shrapnel or anything. He got a little scratch on his forehead when he tripped! He didn’t even require medical attention but he still got a purple heart.

A similar thing happened to me while I was running from the mess hall from five O’clock Charlie. But I did not get any purple heart! The difference was there was no one of suitable rank around to see what happened to me. Besides, I did not report to anyone that I had been “injured in combat.” The way I saw it, I got a little scratch on my elbow when I tripped and fell while we were taking incoming. To me that was not worthy of a purple heart.

Upon coming home, I joined the antiwar movement. (I threw my Naval Achievement medal in the trash sometime in 1971.) I let my hair grow long and was introduced to marijuana for the second time in my life. The first time I ever smoked marijuana was in Vietnam — a friend gave me one marijuana cigarette but I never smoked it again until I got home.

In Metairie, I got my drugs through a friend who worked at a popular pizza restaurant; he gave me my marijuana along with my pizza. Of course, the management did not know what we were doing. I also got marijauna from a friend who was a Jefferson Parish policeman. He got it from the evidence room or so he told me.

I soon began drinking heavily, taking LSD, smoking marijuana and hash and demonstrating against the war. However, I never took any drugs that required the use of a needle. One might say that my life was on an ever slow spiral to the bottom; trying to forget the memories I had of the war.

I am not trying to say that I had nightmares and visions of horror or anything like that over the war. What I was trying to forget was the thought that people were dying over there so that Wall Street could make money and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Many people in Washington, D.C. and elsewhere say we were in Vietnam to stop Communist aggression. But that is not the truth. The United States fought the Vietnam War for one reason and one reason only: To make money! This is why I believe that the Vietnam War was a deceitful war and I joined the antiwar movement in order to oppose this raping of our troops.

However, before I arrived at the bottom, I made an astonishing discovery one Sunday afternoon while attending a music festival on the Mississippi River levee behind Audubon Park. I do not know the exact date that I made this discovery but I do know that it was sometime in the autumn of 1970.

Every Sunday afternoon some local musicians — usually some group trying build up their popularity — would gather on the levee and there would be an impromptu music festival. Everyone would sing and dance to the music and enjoy the celebrations. It was a free music festival and people of all ages would attend — old, young, black, white, hippies, gays, straights, couples with babies — all kinds of people.

Anyway, while attending one of these festivals one Sunday afternoon I came to realize that if everyone just obeyed the Golden Rule then the world would live in peace forever. I also came to understand that by obeying the Golden Rule one is also loving their neighbor.

About this same time I had a dream of a beautiful lady touching my shoulder, telling me to wake up. She touched my shoulder and said: “Peter, it’s time to wake up.” I was immediately wide awake and sat up. I was not groggy or sleepy or anything. I was completely and fully awake. After I woke up, I could still feel the touch of the lady’s finger on my shoulder. That was all there was to the dream.

I do not know which came first the dream or my “discovery” about how everyone can live in peace forever. But I think it was the dream.

Today, I believe that it was the Blessed Mother who touched my shoulder and told me to “wake up.” However, at the time of the dream I did not think that it was the Blessed Mother. My first thought upon waking was that it was my earthly mother who woke me up. But since the room was empty, I just dismissed the dream. It was not until after March 11, 1971 that I began to believe that it was the Blessed Mother who touched my shoulder.

Soon after this, I had another dream in the autumn of 1970. It was a dream of a tongue of fire coming down and lighting my whole head on fire. It was these two dreams together that later caused me to believe that it was the Blessed Mother who touched my shoulder. I also believe that it was these two dreams together that later helped me to understand how mankind can live in peace for all eternity, Bar.3:13; Mt.7:12.

Also at this time, I was very much interested in Beatle music and would frequently listen to their songs. I even began calling myself by my middle name, Jude, after their song Hey Jude. I especially liked the song All You Need is Love, for I believed then and still do that love of neighbor is all one needs — God will supply the rest of one’s needs.

However, I still do not know what influence, if any, this song had on my discovery. Nor did believe at that time that any song was meant personally for me, and I did not come to the knowledge about the song Hey Jude until after 1972.

I am not trying to say that the Beatles wrote the song for me. What I am trying to say is that the power of God caused them to name a song with the same name as someone who would years later point out to the world that they are the great anti-Christ. Further, this song became the top song for 1968.

Anyway, upon making my discovery, I decided then and there at the music festival that autumn afternoon that for the rest of my life I would do my best to obey the Golden Rule and thereby help to establish peace on earth.

One must try to understand the atmosphere in which I found myself in the autumn of 1970. Everyone I associated with at that time was “preaching” peace and love, denouncing the war and smoking marijuana. Jesus Christ Superstar was at or near the top of the music charts. I was in my early 20s and enjoying life with a girlfriend with whom I made love. I had no bills to pay. I had bought a 1965 Mustang with the money I received upon my discharge.

(At the time, I believed that a 1965 Mustang was the greatest thing on four wheels and I named mine Sallie Mae after the song Mustang Sallie.)

I had my whole life ahead of me with nothing to worry about. My antiwar statement was in the form of a Marine Corps Drill Sergeant’s hat on which I glued a cloth daisy in place of the Marine Corps emblem. I also wore my Marine Corps field jacket on which I had the words ‘Please End All Corruption on Earth’ on the back. The words were blue on a red and white stripped background and were one below the other so that PEACE was spelled out vertically.

I was sincere in my desire to do something to end all the contamination, corruption and crime on earth and help bring peace on earth by obeying the Golden Rule.

I had thought about writing my congressman or about running for some kind of public office but almost immediately rejected those ideas as ludicrous. I also thought about becoming a radio disc jockey. I thought that I might be able to spread my message of peace and love in between playing songs. I even looked into what it takes to become a disc jockey. But I eventually rejected that idea also.

I thought of several different methods of spreading my message of peace and love to everyone – printing flyers and putting them on windshields, forming a peace club and things of that nature – but each time I rejected the idea. I was thus on a never ending meandering trying to figure out how to tell everyone that if they would just obey the law of love to their neighbor then peace would eventually rule the world.

I stayed in this atmosphere throughout Christmas 1970 until March 11, 1971, at which time I had a very personal religious experience. At that time, I was living at my mother’s house and had a job driving an overhead crane at night. It was my job to off load steel girders from barges on the Mississippi River and either put them in the warehouse or load them onto trucks for shipping.

On the morning of March 10, before going to work, I was listening to Neilson’s The Point when I suddenly had a thought that the second coming of Jesus Christ was imminent. For some reason — at the time I did not know why — I immediately put on the album Magical Mystery Tour by the Beatles and started to play the song I am the Walrus. Then the thought came to me that Jesus was giving me some kind of sign or message about His second coming.

Other than listening to the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar I wasn’t very religious at the time, so I dismissed the thought. (Years later I came to understand that our Lord was revealing the anti-Christ to me but I did not realize this at that time.)

Later that morning, I put on the radio and heard the song Burning Bridges, the theme song from the 1970 offbeat war movie Kelly’s Heroes staring Clint Eastwood. I had the thought that I had burned all my bridges and now there was no going back. I quickly dismissed the thought and turned off the radio.

Later that afternoon while driving to work, I again heard the song on my car radio. Again, the thought came to me that I had burned all my bridges and now there was no turning back. Only this time the thought was stronger. But I again dismissed the thought and turned off the radio.

After I got off work, some time after 1:00 or 2:00 the next morning, I put on my car radio and the first song that came on was Burning Bridges. For the third time I had the thought that I had burned all my bridges and now there was no turning back.

I quickly changed stations and the song Dedicated to the One I Love by the Mammas and Pappas immediately came on the radio. At that moment, I had the distinct impression that God our Father and Mary our Mother had caused all these series of songs to come on the radio. They, through these songs, had given me a gift and were now asking me to do something for them.

I even heard the words, “We have done something for you and now there is something we want you to do for us. It is something that everybody needs.” My heavenly Father and Mother were asking me to say a prayer each night before going to bed and dedicate it to the one I love. (The words of the song.)

I turned off the radio and continued home. After I pulled into my driveway, I sat for a moment and thought about everything that had happened over the past several hours and then said: “Ok Mary but not tonight; I’ll start tomorrow night.” My intention was to follow the request of God my Father and Mary my Mother but I would not start doing it until the next night.

I went to bed but I woke up sometime later with a nightmare. In the nightmare, I was hiding in a church confessional from those who were looking for me. Suddenly my boss at work opened the door of the confessional. I was immediately filled with anger and hate. I looked straight into his eyes, threw down a flashlight that I had in my hand and jumped at him with my fingers opened in a claw-like fashion. I wanted to kill my boss but the flashlight struck the floor and broke.

Then everything became black – it was blacker than anything I have ever seen. A terrible cold, burning sensation filled my chest and I began to fall. The fall was endless and the pain in my chest was unbearable.

Then I awoke from the dream to find myself covered with sweat but the pain in my chest was still there. I immediately began to say the Ave Maria. At that point, the pain immediately went away and a deep peace came upon me. Then I heard a woman say: “Heaven does not play games.”

I continued saying the prayer for a few minutes and had the thought that when our heavenly Father and Mother make a request of one, they are not playing games. They expect the request to be fulfilled.

Then I suddenly understood the meaning of everything – the dreams, my understanding of the solution to the world’s problems, (Mt.7:12) Mary’s request. It all made sense for the first time. I went to sleep and had a dream of being carried out of a raging volcano by an angel. The angel was singing Everything’s All Right from the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar. This song was the myrrh for my head and feet.

I want to note that the angel was not singing I Don’t Know How To Love Him, which was very popular and often played on the radio at that time. I believe that the angel was singing Everything’s All Right because it sings about soothing the fire in my head and feet. This was in connection with the dream I had in the autumn of 1970 in which a tongue of fire touched my hair and my feet became clothed the fire of the Holy Spirit. However, it was not until after these incidents that I realized that it was the Holy Spirit.

Within a few weeks I was off drugs, going to church and starting to straighten out my life. But this was not enough. I soon quit work and went to live among the street people in order to find the meaning for life. About this same time I began to have dreams from Jesus, Mary, St. John the Apostle and an angel I have never been able to discern except that the angel had red hair.

Sometimes St. John or this angel would come to me and would tell me about my soul, the mysteries of heaven or they would help me find the answers to questions I would be seeking. I frequently did not understand these dreams.

However, one dream I had I later discovered was very similar to the dream Jacob had when he wrestled with the angel, Gen.32:24. This dream was with the angel with red hair. I also discovered that before one can find the meaning of life – that we are all here to do the will of God – one must first genuinely love their neighbor.

This is the same truth discovered by Buddha, Confucius, Lao-Tse, and countless others, including myself in the autumn of 1970. This is the same truth taught by Jesus Christ. I began teaching what I learned to all who would listen. I continued living among the homeless for several years, teaching the Golden Rule to anyone who would listen to me preach.

All my family and friends believed that the drugs I had taken had done something to me mentally. No one believed me when I told them that I was just “turned on to Jesus,” instead of drugs. My mother even suggested that I seek professional help.

To still her fears I agreed and went to see a psychiatrist. The doctor at the mental health unit gave me some pills to take. I took them for a few days but they made me sick, so I quit taking them. When the doctor found out that I was not taking the pills, she had me arrested. She said that it was for my own good, so that I would not hurt myself or anyone else. She thought that I was having delusions of grandeur and might do something radical or drastic to my self or to someone else.

At the time of my arrest it was about ten in the morning. If I remember correctly, it was a Friday morning. I was inside my mother’s house quietly reading the Bible. The charge against me was disturbing the peace! I have always thought that that was funny.

The arresting officer also thought it was amusing. He was very polite and understanding. He did not put handcuffs on me and even allowed me to change my clothes before we went to the police station.

I was in jail for three days and two nights when my twin brother came and got me out. I never again went back to the psychiatrist or any other doctor. It was after this incident that I moved out of my mother’s house and went to live among the homeless.

I believe that the Holy Spirit was guiding me to go live among the homeless. I had already sold or gave away all that I owned. I gave my Mustang to my twin brother and I used a bicycle for transportation. When I gave away all my belongings and went to live among the homeless, everyone judged me to be crazy; many even told me that I need to be locked up for my own safety. But I was not worried about their beliefs, I believed that I was doing the will of God and my dreams were telling me the same thing.

For example, soon after I gave away all my possessions I had a dream of finding a living, miniature Stegosaurus. It was full grown but very small. It was small enough to keep as a pet. To find and own such an animal would be like finding and owning the kingdom of heaven. It would be like finding a hidden treasure worth a great fortune, Mt.13:44-46.

Beginning sometime in the summer of 1971, I started going to the public library and reading books on theology and philosophy. I had no particular direction in my studies at this time. For the most part, I was just letting the book I was reading direct what book I would next read. That is, if a book I was reading referenced another book that I thought I might like to read then I would read the referenced book. If not, then I would just find another book on the original subject that I enjoyed reading.

I usually went to the library in the morning and again in the evening until it closed. At night I went to read by a streetlight. I had found a particular street light next to a bridge where I could read and not be bothered by anyone. I often spent my nights there alone, reading and learning. When I got tired of reading I went under the bridge to sleep. I did not mind living like this as I have always been somewhat of a loner, doing things by myself and on my own time.

What I find very amusing is that the bridge I chose to live under is right across the street from the mental health unit where the psychiatrist worked who believed that I was a danger to myself and to society. In fact, I sometimes used the building’s outside safety lights to read by and I used an outside water faucet of the building to brush my teeth at night. I bathed about once a week either at my mother’s house or at a friend’s house.

Anyway, I continued to live like this for several years, reading and learning what I could about life. One of the biggest and greatest lessons that I learned while living among the street people was how to be resourceful and the necessity for conservation. When one has nothing, one quickly learns to use wisely that little which one does possess.

Sometime in the autumn of 1971, I met an atheist. He told me that there is no God. He said that science has proven that everything evolved over millions and millions of years, including mankind. He further said that since Genesis says that God made the universe and everything in it, including mankind, in six days, this proves that there are mistakes and myths in the Bible.

He then pointed out what he claimed were mistakes and myths in other biblical passages, such as Noe and the flood, Josue stopping the sun and Jonas being swallowed by a whale.

All these mistakes and myths in the Bible, he continued, proved that Jesus Christ did not rise from the dead. He claimed that no one can rise from the dead. He claimed that the resurrection of Jesus Chris was just another myth propagated by the apostles in order to get converts to their new religion and continued by the church to get people to give money to the church. He said that my faith in the resurrection of Jesus Christ was a vain belief.

The next day I met a Christian fundamentalist. (I might have met the the fundamentalist on the first day and atheist on the second day. I really do not remember which one I met first.)

The fundamentalist told me that God made the universe and everything in it, including mankind, in six days and rested on the seventh day. He said that the atheists were propagating the myth of evolution in order to get converts to their anti-religious beliefs.

He said that the Bible was inspired by God and that God can not inspire myths and lies. He continued by saying that if Genesis contained myths then there was nothing to prove that the rest of the Bible, particularly the gospels, did not also contain myths. He pointed out that if the gospels contained myths such would prove that Jesus Christ did not rise from the dead.

He concluded by saying that if Genesis and the gospels contained myths, then one’s faith in the resurrection of Jesus Christ would be a vain belief. In order to prevent this God had to make sure that the Bible, particularly Genesis since it is the foundation, did not contain myths and lies. Thus he said that Genesis is the literal, factual word of God.

I do not remember whether I met the fundamentalist or the atheist first. But either way, by the third day I was convinced that both of them had truth in their argument. I knew that the atheist had the truth of science but I also knew that the fundamentalist had the truth of logic.

For it is true. If Genesis — or any passage of the Bible — is a myth then there is nothing to prove that the resurrection is not also a myth. For if God is telling us a lie about one thing then there is nothing to prove that He is not also telling us a lie about the resurrection.

Nor can the bible be just the work of men. God has to be the ultimate author of the bible. If not then there is nothing preventing the bible from becoming filled with myths and lies.

I was also convinced that both of them had flaws in their arguments. The atheist was wrong for rejecting God and the fundamentalist was wrong for rejecting evolution.

I was determined to find and root out the flaws in their arguments. I was also resolute in building upon the truths of their arguments. I knew that if I followed the scientific method and interpreted the facts truthfully, I would eventually succeed in my search.

I want to note that at this time I did not know anything about the Shroud of Turin, for I did not begin to read about it until much later.

I now had some direction in my studies. I broadened my studies into the sciences and social studies, including physical anthropology. I began to read about the origin of the universe, the earth, life and man. Later I included cultural anthropology and the origin of religion in my studies.

What I eventually discovered was that the book of Genesis and evolution are both factual in the description they present of the creation process. However, one must excuse the ancient author of Genesis for his lack of scientific knowledge. He gives a brief, general discription while science gives a more detailed explanation.

One must also take into consideration the fact that the seven days mentioned are not to be taken literally. I interpreted Genesis chapter one as seven days of dreams that some ancient prophet had from God. It took God seven days to reveal the creation process through a series of dreams to his ancient servant.

One must further understand that Adam was not the first man. Rather, he was the first man to believe in the God worshipped today by the Christians, the Jews and Islam. Genesis chapters two and three reveal this information and the story of the first sin against God.

I discovered all this after several of years of studying the sciences, including both physical and cultural anthropology and then comparing that to what Genesis one, two and three said. However, it took me over 30 years to refine my argument and put it into a manuscript.

One day in the spring of 1972, I found myself discussing the great anti-Christ with a friend. We were speculating upon who he could be and when he would come. Neither I nor my friend knew the answer. But the discussion started me wondering.

I soon began to read anything I could find about the great anti-Christ and St. John’s book of Revelations. In fact, I stopped all my other studies just to concentrate upon understanding the book of Revelations and who the great anti-Christ might be.

But after about a month or so I had not found any books or information in which I could place any credence. That is, I did not find any book that dealt definitively upon the subject of the great anti-Christ or the book of Revelations. Although I found several books claiming to denounce a future, dictator anti-Christ, every one of these books was subjective and extremely fundamentalist in their interpretation.

I left the subject and resumed my studies in the sciences and social studies.

Then a couple of weeks later a thought hit me! The great anti-Christ has to be someone who would teach peace and love but at the same time denounce the teachings of Jesus Christ. He would not be a military dictator at all! He would be someone who would teach against the teachings of Jesus Christ, for that is the definition of anti-Christ. It is someone who doen’t believe in Jesus Christ or His teachings.

That night I had a dream of St. John and myself catching a huge man eating shark and dragging it onto the shore. It metamorphosed into a human and began to suffocate; it could not breathe unless it was in the water. Then the shark/man tried to get back into the water but neither St. John nor I would allow it to do so.

The shark/man is John Lennon and the water is a sea of lies. John Lennon’s beliefs cannot survive when they are exposed to the truth. Hence the shark/man could not breathe and tried to get back into the water.

After learning this, I began to read St. John’s book of Revelations and soon came to understand most — but not all — of his prophecy. I also understood that most of the book of Revelations concerned the recent past, not the future as many believed.

I went back to my friend and attempted to explain this to him, but he would have nothing of it. My friend continued to believe that the great anti-Christ would be a future, military, Hitler-type dictator, who would rule the world in tyranny. Then in August my friend left town and went to study at a university somewhere in Texas. I never saw him again.

Soon after this, I decided to write my friend a letter, explaining to him what I believed about the great anti-Christ and the book of revelations up to that time. I thought that I could better convince him of my beliefs if I put them in writing.

But after finishing the letter, I was proofreading it and realized that I left some information out. So I rewrote the letter and added the information to it.

At that time, my handwritten letter was about ten pages long. In it I discussed the great anti-Christ, the seven churches, the seven seals, some of the trumpets and some of the vials. That is all I knew at that time. But after reading for the third time what I wrote down I again realized that the information I was supplying was inadequate.

But this time, instead of mailing it, I went back to some of the books I had read earlier about the great anti-Christ and the book of Revelations. I re-read some of them and compared them with other books I had read in the library. This caused me to again rewrite my letter to my friend at college.

By this time I had a rather large letter (about 20 or 30 hand written pages) and had rewritten it several times. So I decided to make it an “Open letter to all who care to know the contents herein written.” That was how I then started the letter. In it I also asked my friend to post it on a bulletin board at his college.

This is how the “letter” remained for a couple of years. I would study and then rewrite the letter, adding what I learned to it each time I rewrote it. But I never got around to mailing it, because whenever I attempted to do so, I would proofread it and see that it did not accurately say what I wanted it to say.

At first, I kept it among my belongings, writing it by hand. But living under a bridge, I had no way of protecting it from the weather or from being destroyed by someone should it be found. So I eventually left my “open letter” at my mother’s house. On those days I was not studying, I would go there and work on my letter.

My mother had an old manual typewriter so I began to use this to edit my work. (I later bought my own manual typewriter and in fact still have it.) Each time I retyped it, it got larger and more detailed. It grew from a letter, to a pamphlet, to a small book, to a book with two central themes and finally to a trilogy.

By the time it reached this latter stage, I had quit living under the bridge and had gotten myself a job and an apartment. I had also returned to college by this time to seek a degree in philosophy.

While I was attending college I worked on my manuscript during semester breaks – studying, adding to it and retyping it, bringing it closer to what I wanted it to say. Indeed, every time I read it I find paragraphs and sentences that I want to rewrite.

Sometime earlier, I do not know when other than it was in the early 1970s, my younger brother got mad at his entire family. He stole about 150 dollars from my mother and left for California. He vowed never to return.

About two or three weeks later I had a locution from the Blessed Mother. I was in St. Catherine of Siena Catholic Church praying when she said to me: “Keep praying, I have a surprise for you.” At the time I had no idea what it was but later that evening I was visiting my mother when my younger brother came knocking at the door.

He said that he was sorry for having done all the wrong that he had committed, that he had had a vision of Jesus. He now wanted to teach the world about God. He then began living with me under the bridge. But after a few months he got the idea that living like this was not for him. So, he left to go live in a monastery.

I believe that it was in Connecticut, but I am not sure of this. I do not know how long he stayed there, but he eventually left that also. He went to live in Denver but I do not know where he is now.

I mentioned that I was attending college. While attending the University of New Orleans several of the courses I registered for, I did so in order to help me write my manuscript, including a course on writing fiction. Although I did not, and do not, consider my manuscript a fictional work, I took the course for I believed that it would help me better compose my paragraphs and chapters.

I also took Latin for my foreign language requirement because I believe that knowing it could better help me translate from the Latin Vulgate of St. Jerome.

Even when I attended graduate school I sometimes took electives that helped me better understand the subjects covered in my manuscript. My advisor at college, a black college professor I came to love dearly, would often want me to take another course or to take a course during the summer semester.

But I was adamant. Although I would sometimes give in to her and follow her advice and take the course she suggested, especially if the course was one I needed in order to get my degree in special education, I would just as often not follow her advice and would schedule another course.

She knew I was doing my own studies during the summer and did not advise me to take a summer course unless it was absolutely necessary. We had an understanding between us concerning the subjects I scheduled and as long as I was making progress toward my degree my dear friend allowed me freedom to take the courses I wanted.

Either way, she was a welcomed influence upon my life at that time. I do not believe that I would be the person I am today were it not for Dr. Brenda Burrell. I will always be indebted to her for all the help she has given me.

Autobobiography

The Odyssey Begins