Volume 11, Issue 5, page 5

were close tome who were members of this group
-- "Incas", we called them. Then, shortly before Christmas, I had a strong feeling that I
should go to Arizona. I had lost contact with
the curly-haired fellow; understand that his
group did go to Arizona, but to this day do
not know the details. So, another friend in
Michigan and I -- he was a Toleo -- decided that
there was a certain spot I should go to. We
took a map of Arizona, really closely pinpointed this spot.

The curly-haired fellow's group had gotten
it that I had helped the Toleos in 1547 to rob
a Spanish gold train. We took their horses, and
took the gold up to Arizona. Now, we felt that
the spot picked out was where the gold was
buried. So I went out there, looking for tunnel entrances. Did some digging and scraping.

One day, I was walking along in this area,
and I got a telepathic message, "When you find
the green stone, you will again be one of us."
I walked on about 20 paces, and noted a brownish stone, about the size of a sweet potato.
For some reason, I picked it up. The bottom
side had been chipped, showing the inside to
be green.

A few days later another Scientologist, his
preclear (client), and I revisited this area.

The preclear remarked that he had an Indian
y neighbor who had a stone, and whenever a person
t puts their spiritual awareness on it, they get
the visio of an old woman weeping over the
_ death of her daughter. A short time later, we
W visited the preclear's home. We had not been
m inside the house more than five minutes when
W there was a rap on the door. It was this same
Indian neighbor. He had not been there for
N months. He said to the other Scientologist (who
was also a Tole()) and I: "I have something over
to my house to show you."
He brought out a beautiful piece of Oregon
petrified wood, put it in the middle of the
floor of his living room. The five of us, including the Indian's wife, formed a circle
W around it. This stone had life in it! It could
W communicate. We asked it questions, and it replied in exactly the same manner as in telepathy
with a human. I got many pictures, or facsimiles, from it, and the indication that it
!z1 was with a tribe of mountain Indians, in what
MI looked like Colorado or north of there, for
cc maybe a thousand years or more.

I asked it how it was used by them. I got
pictures of Indians telling the things they
considered to be important, to the stone. Alsome, injuring some...battles won, battles lost
..a group of young Indians around a campfire
doing just what we were doing -- communicating
with the stone ... I asked when was the last
time the stone was with a member of the tribe.
I got a drunk Indian selling the stone to a
white woman, to buy more liquor. Then when he
sobered up, he stole it back, threw it into a
creek, where our Indian friend's father felt
its life and picked it up.

It seems that ancient peoples kept their
mental health by exteriorizing their traumatic
experiences into the stones. Agates, quartzes,
and particularly porphyritic stones seem most

The following summer I went to the Bay Area
in California. While there, I received a letter
from a friend in Phoenix who knew of my experiences, had gone to the area in which I had
found my green stone. He noted the presence of
a dozen or more stones high on a butte that
obviously were not coated as were the other
ones around it. As he had high spiritual
awareness, he discovered that these stones had
life in them, were "talking stones" such as
found in the Indian's house.

At this same time, I found a group of about
a half-dozen Toleos in the Bay Area. One of
them -- unbeknownst of the above -- upon feeling my
stone, said, "When you return to Arizona, you
will find a number of these."
After leaving the Bay Area, I headed south
to L.A., then to Arizona. This other friend,
whom I will refer to as "Bigfoot " -- his ancient
Hohokam nickname -- and I went out to this area.
Instead of a dozen stones, we found over 300.

I noted something Bigfoot overlooked. There
was a chip out of each stone. I kept looking
around there, and found the chips.

It was then that I knew for sure just what
these stones were. Each was anindividual identification symbol, as a Toleo. When something
bothered a person, they would "tell it to the
stone". When the body died, their relatives
kept it -- and when they took another body, they
reclaimed it. As I picked up each stone, or
even each chip, I could tell to whom it belonged.

The following winter, I audited a Chicago
real estate man. He contacted the incident of
1547, got it that he was the one who did some
of the chipping of the stones. There were two
flat baskets, and those who were to jump placed
their chips in one basket, those who were not
to jump placed theirs in the other basket.

As far as I am concerned these stones are
symbols of an ended game. In fact, I had mine
cut, and had the slabs made into bolo ties,
etc. Real pretty. I have asked rock expert
after rock expert what the stone is. Get a
different answer each time. My reality is that
none of them is native to this planet.

A NOVEL could be written from the content of my
lifetime -- 1519-1584, but since Alphia is so
chary of space,this draft will just sketch it.
But, to retrace a bit. I was the Toleo Co-ordinator, or leader, until 1497. I had tried vainly to revive our group to the point of influence which we had enjoyed in previous centuries. The blackness which infected Europe gradually crowded in onus after the year 1000 A.D.
Our cycle of action was on the decline -- birthgrowth-maturity-decay-death. So, when I lost
my life tangling with some "black siders" in
1487, I took my next body over in Spain.

Now, I recovered this data by just deciding
to be at this particular time and place -- and
looking. This is most easily done by having
another person ask you to do this. Attention
focuses better. This is the only way that the
things which ar not keyed-in in present time
'[ most simultaneously, I got the picture of what
they were telling -- like the young brave telling how happy he was with his bride, and later
his grief after she died...then of a time when
they were encamped in a narrow valley and a
5 huge herd of antelope stampeded them, killing