My brother Chris (who died at the age of 16 in 1974, crippled with muscular dystrophy) and I had gone to the Gay Street House (the large Victorian house in Portsmouth, Ohio where my father lived) to search for my father. When we did not find my father at the House, Chris and I walked a couple blocks to Tracy Park and lay down next to each other. After we had pulled some blankets over us, Chris asked me if I had forgotten to tell him something which my paternal grandmother Mabel had told me. I said, "Oh, yea. She wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

Having recently had a birthday, Chris had apparently been keeping track of all the people who had wished him Happy Birthday, and he seemed a bit hurt because I had forgotten to do so.

I felt close to Chris and I wanted to hold him in my arms and kiss him, but since quite a few people were around, I was unsure kissing him in the park would be appropriate.

I told him I needed to go somewhere and I asked him if he wanted to remain there in the park. He said he did. Apparently, he did not get out much and he liked just lying in the cool park. I turned him on to his side (he could not turn himself over due to his muscular dystrophy) and I left him lying there.

I walked back to the Gay Street House and standing outside I found a black woman whom I had earlier left at the House and who needed to talk with my father about something. She lived in a house (I had been there before) a couple houses distant from the Gay Street House.

She began telling me about another house which she owned on Ninth Street in Portsmouth which she rented out. When I asked her how much the rent was, she replied that it was $75 every six weeks.

Such a price appeared to be cheap to me. I told her that I was presently studying and that I might be interested in renting the house. When she wanted to know what I would do in the house after I graduated, I told her that I needed a studio in which to work and that I did not want to live there. The thought of actually living in the house did, however, cross my mind. Mainly, however (rather than for living quarters), I thought the house would be an accommodating place to create art-collages because I would have the ample space which I needed.

When the black woman finally asked me if I would fetch her at her home two houses away when my father returned, I told her I would. She then walked away and I walked into the Gay Street House.

There, in one of the middle rooms, I found my sister—as well as a number of letters and cassette tapes which had arrived for me. Although the tapes were from other people to me, the tapes had my voice on them.

After I had begun sorting through the letters (there must have been 20), I suddenly realized the letters were all copies. Apparently, my father had opened the letters and made the copies, and I did not know what he had done with the originals. I complained to my sister about what had happened. Apparently, she had told my father not to interfere with my mail, but he had done so anyway.

The letters were responses from people (whose addresses I had found in a publication called the  Dream Network Bulletin) to whom I had written concerning dreams. I had originally sent the same letter to everyone and had explained that I was involved with several different types of experiments involving dreams. I had mentioned in the letter that I had already been working on my dreams with Sue Rohlicek (a woman with whom I had been exchanging dreams by mail) for quite a while. I said I realized that I had not been working with Sue as closely as I needed and that I thought I should quickly contact her and explain that I was bringing a number of other people into the dream circle. I hoped Sue would be interested in becoming involved with a group of people working on dreams.

I began telling my sister about the dream experiments, and as I talked, she and I walked down into the basement. For one experiment I had stopped eating sugar, and as a result, I was experiencing an effect upon my mind. I basically said, "What prompted me to do that is that I read something about LSD laced with sugar, how that the sugar affected the LSD, so that a person wasn't able to experience the complete effects of the LSD because of the sugar."

Another fellow (about 30 years old) showed up. He reminded me of a law school friend, Brian, and of my best friend from my college years, Steve Weinstein. Several other people were also in the basement, among whom I thought I saw Kim Leitel (a friend whom I first met in Portsmouth in 1977).

The fellow had invested in some equipment and had set up a laboratory in the basement to conduct some experiments. When I saw the equipment, I thought I would like to work with some of it. The fellow had some large sacks of a rather expensive substance which could be molded into various forms. I asked him about using it. I knew I would have to spend money if I did use it. He showed me how to make a substance which looked like Styrofoam and he created several squares of the Styrofoam-like substance (each side of the squares measuring about 30 centimeters).

We next intended to make a flexible green magnetic piece to put atop the Styrofoam squares. The fellow had a large sack of pinkish powder which he poured into another container to make the green magnetic piece. I was not exactly sure what we were going to do with the finished product.

Somehow, my sister managed to get some of the substance (for the green magnetic piece) inside her and she immediately turned into a monster which resembled a werewolf. When she started to attack me, I enigmatically called her "Susan Moore" and I began talking soothingly to her and controlling her hypnotically with my eyes. I thus appeared able to control the beast inside her.

What appeared to be a small lake lay in the middle of the room. I knew that to cure my sister, we would need to put her into a small boat we had there and push her out into the middle of the lake. I kept talking with her until I had her in the boat, then we pushed her into the lake.

I thought we then would be able to begin working on a project to turn her back to her normal self.

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