Bateman2

Wes Bateman

In part 1 of this article I had described my preteen age years and the e.s.p. experiences that I had while living with my Pennsylvania Dutch maternal grandparents, Howard and Emma Becker, in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

To briefly recap: That time was a period of superstitious beliefs and strange practices. In the midst of these things and always at the center of my attention was my bed ridden, paralyzed grandfather who had fully supported me when I demonstrated any sort of extrasensory ability.

Grandfather actually lived two lives: One life as an expert on things that go “bump in the night”; and a second life wherein scholars and college professors came to him from far and wide to obtain his assistance in certain types of historical research. The primary reason for their visit was to hold in their hands, and to discuss the contents of a diary written by a family ancestor who played a part in establishing the colony of New Amsterdam.

Grandfather did not have a telephone, and his brother, whom I had known as “Uncle Lass”, always delivered the professors' requests to visit. Uncle Lass was a dapper dressed gentleman. His shoes were always polished, and adorned with spats, a tie with stickpin, a bolder hat, and without fail he carried a cane with an ivory handle. He was definitely a survivor of the “Victorian Era”.

Grandfather insisted that I attend Sunday school and church every week. He didn’t see any conflict between his occult beliefs and the teachings of the Methodist Church. I had to pay very close attention to the sermon because upon returning home it was my job to repeat it word for word to grandpa and grandma.

These recitals led to the development of an ability that has served me very well throughout my life, a “photographic memory”.

This ability came to light quite accidentally when my schoolteacher handed me an assignment to give a book report on Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Treasure Island”. I gave the report orally, beginning with the first word on page one and ended it with the very last word of the story. This recital took about 2 1/2 hours, during which time the principal and every teacher in the school came into the classroom, and a few of them followed me with an open copy of the book in their lap. After this event things really hit the fan.

Quizzes were arranged wherein I (a 4th - 5th grader) would compete with high school students on a variety of subjects, and I would easily win, hands down. My classmates soon began looking at me as if I was some kind of freak. Well-meaning teachers had suggested that I should be taught various advanced subjects ranging from the violin to physics. I rebelled, and soon I not only began to fake illness, I also invented any excuse I could think of to keep from going to school. Only grandfather Becker understood my feelings and problems. Because he too could recite Treasure Island word for word, and probably 100 other books as well.

It wasn't very long before my refusal to be a party to any sort of pet test subject for this teacher or that psychologist bought me unexpected trouble from another area; and it started with my father’s sister (aunt Elsie) who just happened to be the girl's physical education director for the largest high school in the city. Later, after leaving the Navy her husband became the school’s principal. Aunt Elsie was sure my reluctance to go to school was some how due to grandpa Becker’s influence over me. She suggested to my mother and father that I should leave my grand parent's home and move back with the family.

Then the most unheard of thing happened … grandfather Bateman came to meet with grandfather Becker, and it was a closed-door meeting. When it was over I was told that if I returned to school I could stay with grandpa and grandma Becker. I agreed.

After this grandfather began to teach me about Native American culture. He knew the names and homeland location of every tribe that existed, and he could look at an artifact and immediately know what tribe had created it. Soon I was making beaded moccasins, turkey feather war bonnets, and tom toms made from empty Quaker Oats containers.

It was the summer of 1947 and I was ten years old. Grandfather had read the evening paper and passed it on to me. While looking through the newspaper I came upon a picture of a local hotel. Superimposed on the picture above the hotel was the image of a coffee cup sitting on a saucer. The caption read: “Flying saucer reported over Hotel Bethlehem”. Of course I asked grandpa what the accompanying story was really all about.

Grandfather had been waiting for me to read the flying saucer article, and he had anticipated my question. I'll never forget his words: “Those circular “planes” are flown by people from another planet. They have been coming to our world for thousands of years. They also have an underground base in the country of Tibet.”

Then I asked:" Why are they coming here?"

He replied: “You will learn why they are coming to Earth at some point in the future. We will not discuss this subject again, and I don’t want you to form any false conclusions."

I remember the time that grandpa asked me what I wanted to do most when I grew up. I told him that I wanted to be an archaeologist and find a treasure. I think my inspiration came about after I had seen a recent Saturday matinee presentation of “The Mummy” which starred Boris Karlof. Grandfather complemented me on the choice of my future profession, but added that one did not have to be an archaeologist to find a treasure. He then related Jake Wetzle's story to me, which was his discovery of a gold mine in the “Superstition Mountains” of Arizona. It saddened me to hear that Mr. Wetzle died before he could enjoy his wealth, and that he had never told anyone the location of his mine, now known as “The Lost Dutchman.”

Grandpa also said: “To find a treasure you have to look for it, and the best places to look are close to home.”

I took his statement literally and began to think of every place around the old house where I could possibly find a treasure. My thoughts kept coming back to grandpa's backyard and the World War 2 “Victory Garden” that my grandmother still kept. When I told grandpa about my feelings, he said: “Take a spade and ask grandma to go with you. Dig where you think the treasure is buried.”

Grandma resented the fact that I wanted to dig up her vegetables, but dutifully obeyed Grandpa’s instructions. After digging up about two shovels full of soil I found a much-deteriorated small leather pouch. It was brittle and had separated in several places, but 4 blackened coins were still inside. Three were the size of a quarter, and one was the size of a half a dollar, which had a dark gum like coating on it.

After fingering and looking at the coins and pouch grandfather proclaimed that they were pre-Revolutionary British coins. The three smaller ones were silver and the largest was gold.

This find made sense, because the first street behind the house was called “Garrison Street” It was once lined with barracks in which pre-revolution British soldiers were housed.

Grandpa asked me what I wanted to do with my treasure. After some thought I decided that I wanted to sell the coins and give the money to my father, mother, brothers and sisters. The coins were given to Uncle Lass and a few days later he returned with them, each sparkling clean. They were beautiful to see, and after a period of reverent joy the coins were placed into a matchbox, never to be seen by me again.

In the weeks that followed I received some new clothes and shoes, and several maintenance trips to the dentist.

While burning trash one day, one of grandmother’s felt slippers caught fire and her foot was burned. She was unable to tend to grandfather any longer and he was moved to a nursing home. His last words to me consisted of a statement often used by the Pennsylvania Dutch: “Be careful out there among the English.” Less than a week later I learned that he had died in his sleep.

Fifty-six years have past since I studied and learned from my grandfather, who was a true and very wise Dutch Master. I had learned much during those years, and some of this knowledge can be found on my website.

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