Foreseeing God in the Laboratory, Part 2

The G.O.D. Experiments
by Gary E. Schwartz, Ph.D., William L. Simon

(Page 2 of 2)

A Representative Day — From the Border To The "Spirit of God"

Day 5 started with Christopher listing the highlights from his previous night's dreams, informed by observations from his prior Day 5 dreams collected at his home in May, June, and July.

He had dreamed of men holding up traffic. This scene was set somewhere near a border, he said, taking for granted it was the Mexican border, not far from Tucson. He also saw a large water or gas tank. He had dreamed of boats, many boats, and of a car with four flat tires. He had written in his dream journal that the car had no "oil" and then he added "mineral oil." He also saw an embassy in London.

He dreamed of tires piled high along a chain-link fence, and had drawn a picture of the tires and fence in his diary. He dreamed of my needing to use a credit card to get into a store or building. He also saw loads of umbrellas. And something about the "Spirit of God."

As I listened to this jumbled laundry list of items, I wondered: would the envelope, when it was opened, reveal that we were going to the Mexican town of Nogales — one of the twenty locations I had provided? It would fit many of the fundamentals in the dreams — men holding up traffic, border, water tanks, boats (people haul boats back and forth to Mexican beach towns), cars with flat tires, old tires along fences, umbrellas.

After all the information was recorded, I called to say I was ready to know the location. Bill called back a few minutes later to announce, "Gary, you're going to 'the old gem and mineral store.'"

From the first, I had not expected Christopher to get anything right beyond a few lucky guesses. The previous four days had been eye openers — his predictions had been remarkably on target. But it was too much to expect that winning streak to continue, and when I heard the location, it was clear that this fifth day was going to break his string of home runs. I reviewed in my mind the things Christopher had described, and couldn't come up with a single thing that we might see at the gem and mineral store, or that we might see on the way there or back.

Of course, I didn't tell Christopher what I was thinking. Moreover, following the experimental protocol, I did not tell Christopher where we were going.

Off we went. After about ten miles, as we passed an area of homes and a shopping mall surrounded by multiarmed cacti reaching twenty or more feet in the air, Christopher called my attention to some men on a side street, holding up traffic. He asked, "Are we near the Mexican border?"

"No," I told him. "We're more than forty miles from the border."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "My dream was very specific that men would be holding up cars near a border."

I said, "Christopher, trust me — the Mexican border is far from here." But to humor him, I maneuvered to see what was causing the tie-up. Workmen holding up traffic are commonplace enough; I simply assumed that this was not evidential. I was wrong.

We discovered there was construction work being done on the road. Beyond the work crew, I spotted a large water tank. And much to my amazement, the tank bore a painted sign that read "Borderland."

Borderland! We were not near an actual border, but we had encountered the word, in large, hard-to-miss lettering. Was I stretching the evidence to make the dreams fit the circumstances? Quite possibly, I reminded myself.

A bit farther on, a pickup truck went by us, pulling a boat on a trailer. Moments later we passed a boat storage yard. As I made a turn onto the street of the gem and mineral store, we saw eight more boats stored near the roadway. That's a lot of boats in the desert, I thought to myself.

We reached the gem and mineral store, and sitting on the right side of the parking lot, I am almost too embarrassed to admit, was a car with four flat tires! I couldn't believe it.

Christopher got all excited. He screamed, "Gary, this is just like how I dreamt it. In my dream I was able to walk right up to the tires and touch them." I took pictures of Christopher touching the flat tires.

Christopher had dreamed of some connection between the car and an embassy. The car with the flat tires turned out to be an old Rambler Ambassador. Embassy, ambassador. Another stretch? The car, obviously not driven for years, clearly had no oil — and obviously no "mineral" oil (though it was parked in front of a gem and mineral store).

But none of Christopher's other items connected. We did not see tires piled along a chain-link fence. I did not need a credit card to enter the store. There were no umbrellas at the location. And I did not see anything that suggested a "Spirit of God" connection.

We returned to Christopher's hotel and checked off what information in his dream was related to the journey and the location, and what was not. My expectation that the gem and mineral store would not connect with any of his dream clues was clearly wrong — he did much better than I expected. However, he obviously had not been perfect. The experiment was officially over for the day. But now is when the story gets even weirder. Yet it's all true — it really happened, and it's recorded on videotape.

Finding the "Spirit of God" At Costco?

I discovered that I was running out of videotapes for my mini DV camera, and Christopher was running out of them for his camera as well. I had one hour of free time before I was due at the laboratory, and suggested to Christopher that I take him to a store where we could purchase videotapes in bulk. Ever flexible, Christopher said, "Sure, let's go."

I took him to Costco, a huge discount store that typically sells products in large volume. To get in, I had to show my Costco membership card. Christopher tried to claim another hit: "Look, Gary, just like my dream predicted — you need a credit card to get into a store!" I thought to myself, This is probably because he already mentioned that I would be using a credit card for this purpose, and it unconsciously affected my choice of where we would come to buy the tapes. I dismissed the observation as mere suggestion.

As we were ready to leave, Christopher said, "Gary, I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat?" I explained that I had to get to an appointment at the lab, and we would have time only if we grabbed something quickly. Christopher said, "Sure, let's eat here." At the Costco fast food counter, I bought him a chicken and cheese sandwich, and I sat down with him to wait while he ate. And my world turned upside down. Christopher pointed off to his right and said, "Look, Gary . . ." There, clear as day, were piles of tires placed along a chain-link fence, just as he had drawn them in his dream journal.

I was wide-eyed. But there was more. He smiled and gestured all around us. Seemingly everywhere were large umbrellas. There we were, sitting inside a huge building around plastic outdoor tables with huge shade umbrellas, at least fifteen of them. I stared at these umbrellas in disbelief.

And then I noticed that there was writing on the umbrellas. A company had seen fit to decorate them with advertising. What I read on those umbrellas that day I will remember for the rest of my life. The advertising was the slogan for Hebrew National hot dogs: "We answer to a Higher Authority." And Christopher had predicted we would encounter something about the "Spirit of God."

Christopher's dreams had told him not only that we would be visiting a place that would have a car with four flat tires (an obviously highly specific and unique piece of information) and no oil, but that I would be taking us to a store requiring my (credit) card to enter. And that store had finally brought us face-to-face with "We answer to a Higher Authority."

Give me a break! My mind boggled in confusion and conflict; from the observations, I began to understand what spiritual people mean when they say, "There are no coincidences." How could Christopher know these things?

A skeptic once said to the distinguished anthropologist Margaret Mead, "These are the kind of data I wouldn't believe even if they were true!" I recalled this phrase as I wondered what else could possibly happen in the remaining five days of this experiment. What actually happened was beyond anything I could have predicted.

Copyright © 2006 by Gary E. Schwartz, Ph.D.

About the Author

Gary E. Schwartz, Ph.D., is a professor of psychology, medicine, neurology, psychiatry, and surgery at the University of Arizona and director of its Laboratory for Advances in Consciousness and Health. After receiving his doctorate from Harvard University, he served as professor of psychology and psychiatry at Yale University, director of the Yale Psychophysiology Center, and co-director of the Yale Behavioral Medicine Clinic, before moving to Arizona in 1988. He has published more than four hundred scientific papers and coedited eleven academic books. He is the author of The Afterlife Experiments and The Truth About Medium and coauthor of The Living Energy Universe.

William L. Simon is a screen and television writer and bestselling author.