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Jim: Don’s job as a pilot for Eastern Airlines saw him based in Atlanta. Commuting to and from Atlanta became more and more wearing on him and reduced the amount of time available for Ra sessions due to his absence and due to the time needed for him to recover from his weariness when he was home. Thus, in the fall of 1982 we found a house near the airport in Atlanta that we thought we would move to so Don’s commuting time would be reduced. It had previously been inhabited by people who had trafficked in illegal drugs and who had apparently had numerous disharmonious experiences within the dwelling that was to become our new home. These unfortunate experiences by the former tenants had apparently attracted elementals and lower astral entities into the house which Carla was somewhat able to perceive.
She wanted very much to move into the house because it would have greatly helped Don to be that close to his work. She wanted to buy new carpeting to replace the soiled one, or failing that, to begin scrubbing the carpet to cleanse the house of the undesirable presences, but the limitations of our budget and her arthritis made that impossible. Thus a blue-ray blockage of communication occurred which, two days later while she was on her daily walk, was entered by our fifth-density, negative friend and enhanced in the magical sense until she was unable to breathe for about thirty seconds. This was symbolic of her inability to talk to Don about what the house needed. Keeping calm during the distress saw her through it, and talking to Don about the house cleared the blockage.
The queries about the malfunctioning tape recorder refer to strange sounds that came from it a few days later when Carla was trying to record some of her singing to send to a friend.
The last portion of this session returns to the subject of the house next to the airport in Atlanta that was to become our new home. In our personal and fallible opinions it is from this point that the difficulties that eventually led to Don’s death may be traced. When we returned to our home in Louisville from looking at the new home-to-be in Atlanta, we had just walked in the front door when, all of the sudden, a hawk with a wing span of at least four feet landed outside of our kitchen window, remained for a few moments, and then flew off over the tree tops. Carla and I took the appearance of the hawk as a sign confirming the desirability of the house in Atlanta as our new home. Don, however, was not sure that the hawk was a good sign, and he began to doubt whether we should move to the house after all.
Carla: I cannot tell you just how sorry I was that the Atlanta “farm” they were talking about here did not work out as a dwelling place for us. In it, Don was just three miles from the airport. It was a very nice place, although peculiar in that the house simply ended with no wall between it and the adjoining horse barn. It was less expensive to rent than the place we had in Louisville, it was a milder climate, and there was room for Jim to stretch out and have his own place, and Don and me to do likewise. What foiled it was an attitude of Don’s that was deeply characteristic, and I imagine stemmed from growing up in the depression. He did not want to spend the money to get the place really clean. The dirtiness of the place was everywhere, it had been neglected for some time, dusted and vacuumed occasionally, but any spills were left as they fell, and there was the slight patina of ground-in dirt that only good soap would get, and much hard scrubbing. The most logical solution to me was simply to replace the floor covering throughout the dirtied area. Barring that, hiring a good cleaning agency with professional equipment would have sufficed. Don wished to do neither of these things.
When the hawk flew, and Don took it as a bad omen, that was it. There was no more to discuss, as far as Don was concerned. At that point, as Jim has said, there was a definite shift in Don’s peace of mind. He was more concerned about having enough energy to work as a pilot than ever, and yet everything seemed to be too much trouble. When we tried to buy the Louisville house from its owner, there was a $5,000.00 dispute that the owner and Donald developed that put the quietus on that deal. So we had to move somewhere, as the owner of the Louisville property was selling it out from under us. Don eventually OK’d a lovely and pricey house on Lake Lanier, about 40 bad miles from the airport. What we hadn’t realized was that Atlanta traffic is terrible; after the Olympics were held there, the whole nation became aware of that. And Don had to drive from the extreme north of the traffic tangle to the extreme south, where the airport lay. He spent more time getting there from the lake house than he had done from Louisville, since all he had to do in Louisville was take a short drive to the airport and commute for an hour to Atlanta. The driving from the lake was always an hour and a half to two hours, because of the traffic. There simply seemed no relief and no solution at that house. And so began a difficult experience for all three of us, who somehow had no safe place to be.
If Donald had been normal, he would have been talking a good deal about his various fears. But Don was Don, a wonderful, wise, charming, funny and truly great man, but an unique man who had from an early age pretended he had no preferences and was only an observer. After his death I found out that he was developing real fears about losing me to Jim. But to me he said nothing, following his usual practice of behaving as though he had no preferences. So I was utterly confused. I figured he was just upset about having the right place, and spent countless hours poring over newspaper ads trying to find him a place he felt good about, but to no avail. From this point on, we were never at peace. And little by little, I realized at a deep level that something serious was going wrong with Don. He began acting very unlike himself, being unwilling to leave my presence to the point of listening to my music rehearsals, watching me exercise, sleeping in my room, all things the usual Don would scorn. I did not take these things as positive, for I truly loved the irascible and indifferent Don and longed to have him back.
I was grieving for Donald for months while he was still alive, for he quickly changed to the point that neither I nor he himself could recognize him. This was a time of the most profound distress for Don and for me. Jim was deeply concerned about both of us, but was pretty stable. Both Don and I went rather quickly beyond the bounds of normalcy. I suffered a breakdown. I asked for and got help from family, friends and therapists. So I walked through my nervous breakdown, continuing to function at a basic level. Don suffered a breakdown also, but his came with a real break from reality, and he was in a place where it seemed no one, most of all I, could help him.
96.9 ▶ Questioner: How is Ra able to know all of this information? This is a somewhat unimportant question, but it is just amazing to me that Ra is able to know all of these trivial things. What do you do, move in time/space and inspect the problem or what?
Ra: I am Ra. Your former supposition is correct, your latter unintelligible to us.
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