A Look at Spirituality in the 1960s

I live in a small country town in Massachusetts, surrounded by folks who believe in psychic phenomena and who thrive on tales of anything mysterious. Spiritualism has steadily taken hold and is on the rise here and people are searching for something more to believe in. Discussing the possibility of life after death is not only a safe topic now, it is encouraged. More and more, people you least expect are sharing angel stories and their emotional encounters with loved ones who have passed over. It wasn't always like that, though.

This area of Central Massachusetts is woodsy and slightly off the beaten path and for years was referred to as "the boonies." More middle class people now make their home here. Although there has been some population growth over the years, the greater part of the individuals who live here, go back three, four and five generations, including me. Most of these people knew only that when someone died, they died. End of story. That's how it was for the majority. No need to hash it over. Move on.

I was fortunate, as a child, my mother not only allowed me to believe that our deceased family members could communicate with me, she taught me all the signs that my grandmother or grandfather was near. I was just a kid when I smelled the smoky scent of my grandpa's stogie a few years after his death. There was never a time when I was in the upstairs part of my mother's family home, that I didn't sense my Grandmother Hazel's presence. It was all quite natural for me and my mother, yet, it was something I didn't talk about with my father. I just knew he didn't feel the same, even though he never mentioned it.

While the door was always wide open to people of any religion here in the boonies, the Catholic Church pretty much ruled and the odds were probably one Baptist or one Protestant to every five Catholics. In my own family, religious oddity was the norm. My father was Catholic, my mother was Episcopalian. Their children were christened Episcopalian, but we attended the Protestant Church. Later in life when my parents divorced, my brother, who left to live with my father, had to convert to Catholicism. Kind of crazy I know.

When I was a kid, a new church came upon the scene in a nearby town. A town nearby may as well have been a thousand miles away back then because you stayed pretty close to home and didn't wander into other territories. Besides, we lived in the boonies and walked everywhere we had to go. A walk to the next town could take a couple hours because of the vast distance between the two places. Talk of the new church spread and it wasn't good. The church wasn't Catholic or Baptist and it wasn't Protestant. What else was there we wondered?

Rumors were raging that the church was home to "devil worshippers," and worse; dogs were beginning to disappear. My questions to my mother about this scary new church went unanswered. I thought she was scared, so of course, I was terrified! I prayed the four or five miles between the two towns would be enough space to keep the devil worshippers at bay. I kept the dog in the house for his own safety as well.

About this same time, my radical mother began seeing a "fortuneteller." It was the early 1960's and that's what she called it. I had to accompany my mother on one trip to have her fortune told and I was petrified of the woman who could see into the future. My sister and I sat in the woman's old living room, which smelled like a dirt cellar, and we did not dare move or touch anything because we thought the creepy woman could see us right through the wall. My childish mind was racing so out of control that day, I even wondered, just briefly, if my very own mother had joined the bad church. I would have to keep my eye on her.

People were so traumatized by the idea that devil worshippers had built their own church in this neck of the woods; they started doing crazy things themselves. No one knew anyone who belonged to the church. Of course, with all the talk, even if you did belong, you sure as heck were not sharing that information. People would wait until midnight, and then slink through the woods to the church hoping to catch some devil worshipping action, as they peered in the windows.

The church, it turned out, was always dark at midnight because there was no one there. There was no one there on any night, worshipping Satan or sacrificing dogs for that matter. The members of the new church worshipped on Sunday like all the rest of us did. It was a Spiritualist Church. It was a little easier to take than the devil theory, but at that point in time, it was neither highly regarded nor eagerly accepted.

It would be many years before people in the little church felt safe with their beliefs in mediumship, life after death and direct healing energy. Spiritualists do take inspiration from other religious sources including Christianity, but also draw on mystical teachings. Gratefully, I know many people who have learned a lot from this church and everyone is free now to share the knowledge. That's what makes the world go round!