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The Way of the Explorer
recovery swimmers to deploy the life rafts, open the hatch, and give us the
biological masks that would protect the world from any mysterious virus
that may have infected us on the moon. Then within but a few minutes of
splashdown we were in a helicopter hovering over the gray deck of the
USS New Orleans.
We arrived in Houston with our lunar treasure trove, which made the
geologists at the Lunar Receiving Laboratory ecstatic. We had collected,
as was the plan, more rock samples and data than was available from previous
expeditions—nearly a hundred pounds in all. For three weeks we
worked in quarantine with the geologists, doing what we could to assist in
identifying where we had gathered particular samples, debriefing flight
personnel, and of course writing reports. 1 When I finally had an opportunity,
I telephoned Ed Maxey in order to collect the results of our private
experiment. I was also in telephone contact with Dr. Rhine, who graciously
offered to take all the original data sheets from the participants
and run a statistical analysis of the experiment in his laboratory, even though
there were only 150 data points—a rather small number compared to the
thousands of runs he had conducted. He also suggested that another laboratory
be used as an independent check.
We chose the assistance of Dr. Karlis Osis in New York, a well-known
researcher in the field. We could see from simple preliminary analysis that
the results were likely to prove quite interesting. Dr. Rhine suggested that
if the procedures for conducting the experiment were without flaw (which
they proved to be), the results should be published immediately, regardless
of whether they were positive or negative. This was a seminal experiment
in the space environment, which gave it special pertinence. He even
offered to coauthor and publish a paper in the June issue of The Journal of
Parapsychology. There were, however, forces gathering that, in the public
eye, would taint the work we had done; forces that would place a sensational
spin on the project, rather than a scientific one—or no spin at all.
Such forces are difficult to anticipate.
In the last weeks before the moonshot, during the time Ed Maxey,
Ed Boyle, and I were laying out the details for the experiment, Ed Maxey
suggested we bring on board a man by the name of Olaf Johnson, who was
a professional and reputedly competent psychic. This made a lot of sense.
What we wanted was a mix of everyday individuals and experienced, competent
psychics. So I agreed that Johnson could be added, believing that
the private nature of our efforts would be respected. Unfortunately, Olaf
found it difficult to contain himself shortly after my return, and leaked
our project to reporters. The result was disastrous.
All across the country, in nearly all the major newspapers there was
mention of clandestine psychic experiments conducted on the Apollo 14
moonshot. From Berlin to Beijing, sensational headlines shredded the