Most of those affected at the time were persons of college age. Concerned about this grave development, the Warrens embarked on a program of campus lectures, wherein they warned students around the country about the dangers of the occult Supporting their statements with documentary evidence—slides, photographs, tape recordings, and physical artifacts—Ed and Lorraine Warren made an indelible impression on those to whom they spoke. The general public soon became fascinated with their firsthand experiences and ongoing research.
Although nowadays they lecture primarily to college audiences, the Warrens also speak to community groups and appear on radio and television when time allows. It is their honesty and experience that have made them popular. Their relaxed, informative, matter-of-fact style has changed many a skeptic into a believer. Yet although Ed and Lorraine offer an articulate explanation of spirit phenomena, they are aware of the gravity of their statements. Thus, the Warrens say nothing they cannot substantiate with credible evidence and documented case histories.
During the slide lecture, the Connecticut audience sits silently as Ed and Lorraine detail case after case of spirit phenomena, illustrating their comments with slides of ghosts, psychic lights, levitations, and materialized objects. (Dan Greenburg says in his book, Something’s There, that if the Warrens said they saw a ghost, they saw a ghost!) When the auditorium lights come back on, dozens of hands immediately shoot up in the air.
An integral part of the Warrens’ public lectures is the question-and-answer session that follows their talk. Here, people can sort out the whole strange topic of spirits for themselves, because it is possible to ask the Warrens a question and get a straight answer in reply. For Ed and Lorraine, this is neighbor talking to neighbor now.
“Now that you’re all ready to move into a haunted house,” Ed kids the audience, “let’s take the first question!” An older man with gold-rimmed glasses stands up.
“I’m old enough to be your father, Ed Warren, but in my whole life I’ve never seen any of this sort of phenomena, as you call it. Have you seen a ghost yourself? Have you ever seen these objects levitate?” He sits back down.
“In my lifetime, I have seen many, many materialized ghosts,” Ed tells him over the microphone. “The ghosts you saw on these slides tonight were photographed by me, or by psychic-photographers working with me on investigations. Later this year, in fact, we’re going to England to try to get a photograph of the Brown Lady of Raynham Hall—Lady Dorothy Walpole, one of the most famous ghosts there is. Not far from there is Borley, the most haunted area in England. Both Lorraine and I have seen the Borley Nun walking along the road, and this time we’ll try to photograph her too.”
Taking a sip from a glass of ice water, Ed continues. “As for levitations—yes, I have seen levitations of all kinds. This case I showed you tonight was demoniacal activity, not ghosts. During the progress of the case, I witnessed a four-hundred pound refrigerator lift off the floor. In another case, I watched a console television set rise slowly in the air, then come down with a deafening, explosive crash. Yet, not one tube was broken! Those are just two instances that come to mind, although levitations occur in many cases where spirits—both human and inhuman—are behind the disturbance. So to answer your question, sir: yes, I have seen a ghost; yes, I have seen levitations occur.”
Ed points to a tall blonde-haired lady who stands up to speak.
“In The Amityville Horror, the author cites an old belief that evil spirits can’t cross over water,” she says. “Is that true?”
“No, that’s just an old superstition,” Ed tells her. “Spirits are not affected by physical boundaries—or by distance, for that matter. Simply by thinking about a particular spirit is enough to draw that spirit to your side.”
Lorraine calls on a teenage boy who’d been sitting up front by the stage. “What do you mean by supernatural?” he wants to know.
“If you looked the work up in a dictionary, you’d find that ‘supernatural’ means activity caused by God or His angels,” Lorraine tells him. “But most people don’t relate to the term that way. So, instead, we use the word in the way it’s most commonly understood: that is, activity caused by any force or agent that is not part of our physical, earthly realm. Technically, the phenomena caused by inhuman spirits are called preternatural activity. To put it another way, the phenomena caused by inhuman spirits could be considered negative miracles.”
Next, Ed points to a woman in the middle of the crowd. “If I were to die tomorrow,” she asks, “would I become a ghost?”
“It’s possible,” Ed replies, “but not probable. Still, if you died suddenly and unexpectedly—say in an accident—and you refused to accept the fact that you’re physically dead, then quite likely you’d remain earthbound until such time as you realized that you were out of the game; that you were dead. In the meantime, while you’re trying to sort this problem out as a spirit, you’d probably remain earthbound in familiar surroundings—like your home. Nothing would seem different to you: you’d be able to see and hear other members of your family just like before, but they wouldn’t be able to see or hear you. ‘What’s the matter?’ you might ask, ‘why don’t they pay attention to me?’ So, frustrated, you find a way—through mind over matter—to start causing objects to move, or you slam doors in order to get attention. Of course, all you’ll really succeed in doing will be to scare the wits out of your family. At that time, your folks might get hold of Lorraine and me, who would then come to the house and have a little discussion with you as a spirit—so you’d be able to pass over correctly.”
“How did you two originally become involved in the Amityville case?” a tanned gentleman in a rugby shirt asks the Warrens. “Also, what did you do during your investigation that the others didn’t?” The questions enliven the audience; it’s apparent they want to hear the answer too.
“Your long question, sir, requires a long answer,” Lorraine warns him graciously.
“That’s okay,” he calls out.
“All right then,” Lorraine begins, “our involvement started the last week of February 1976, when we received a telephone call at our home from a young woman, a television producer in New York City. She wanted to know if we had time to look into a so-called haunted house on Long Island? I told her maybe—but said first I’d have to know more details. She then explained about the 1974 DeFeo murders and the Lutzes’ experience in the house. After that, the young woman told me that her TV station was covering the work of parapsychologists and psychic researchers who entered the home right after the Lutz family fled. However, after a month’s time, these investigators hadn’t come up with any concrete answers. So, she wanted to know, could we hold a séance in the house and tell them if spirits were behind the problem?
“Yes, I told her, we could investigate the house, however, holding a séance would be quite another matter. She understood. While I was on the phone I consulted with Ed, who agreed it would be all right to investigate the case.
“When we went to Long Island, we then met George and Kathy Lutz for the first time. The Lutzes had been staying at Kathy’s mother’s house. George and Kathy said they didn’t want to even come near the house they owned: we had to go to them to get the house keys. In order not to prejudice our inquiry, we didn’t interview the Lutzes at that time. We did, however, ask them a few pointed questions to test their sincerity. They were sincere all right: they were scared to death! For his part, George asked only one thing of us. If we were going to enter the house, would we please get the deed and bring it to him? We agreed to do this, and then left for the site.
“The house was quite beautiful,” Lorraine continues, flipping the tartan sash back over her velvet waistcoat “Ed parked the car in the driveway and we walked once around the house to get a drift of the place. After that, we unlocked the front door and went in.
“Once inside, the first thing Ed and I did was to walk through the house together, one floor at a time. What we found was a home that looked like it ha
d been hastily evacuated. On the dining room table there was a gingerbread house all set for Christmas. Newspapers from mid-January ’76 were laying about on tables, or on the floor. The kitchen cupboards were stocked with food, as was the refrigerator. In the basement, a stand-up freezer was loaded with a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of provisions; laundry was folded on the dryer and ready to be put away. The bar was stocked with sealed bottles of liquor; the closets were full of clothes—suits, dresses, shoes, everything. Jewelry sat on the Lutzes’ bedroom bureau; heirlooms, even the family photograph albums were left behind, out in full view for the taking. In short, the house looked just the way your own house probably looked tonight when you came down here to see us. Had these people concocted the story, they certainly wouldn’t have left the deed to the house behind, along with a wealth of personal valuables.
“Our investigation involved going ahead with the séance,” says Lorraine. “Therefore, we returned to the Amityville house at a later date to conduct a night séance before television cameras and recording equipment, as we’d been requested to do. All in all, I believe there were seventeen people present.
“Three psychic mediums, including myself, participated in the sitting,” Lorraine relates. “The other two psychics were Mrs. Alberta Riley and Mrs. Mary Pascarella. Both Mary and Alberta are exceptionally fine trance mediums; both professionals, of course; both dear friends of ours as well. Before the séance was held, Ed used religious provocation. We knew that if an inhuman spirit was present, it would be provoked to react by exposure to holy objects: however, we did not know how it would react”
“Well, we got a response all right,” Ed nods. “Phenomena let go—not in terms of terrifying external activity—but rather as a physical assault on at least half of us present, especially those who had a pivotal job to do during the séance. I began to suffer involuntary physical reactions, such as heart flutterings. These ‘palpitations,’ as I call them, affected me personally for some three weeks after we were in the house.
“At least half those present during the séance experienced or reported phenomena in the house that they considered to be out of the ordinary. So, although the séance was essentially a fiasco, that fiasco occurred as a result of some external agent”
Near the aisle, a dark-haired woman stands up. “I was told that the priest in the Amityville book never existed”
“Madam,” Lorraine answers, “the priest in that case is a friend of ours. We know him very well. Not only did the things happen to him that were reported in the book, more things have happened to him since that were never reported Father has suffered many times over for his involvement in that case.”
With that reply, the Warrens thank their audience and bring the lecture to an end. As usual, though, it is not the end of the questions. Half the people file out, but the other half come to the front of the stage and surround the Warrens.
“How do you know these demonic spirits you talk about aren’t really something human—just mean ghosts?” a man asks.
“Sir,” Lorraine answers him, “sometimes in the beginning of a case you can’t tell the difference between a negative human spirit and a negative inhuman spirit. Both can be extremely malicious, and sometimes they even work together. Only the demonic, however, has the power to bring about such incredible negative phenomena as fires, explosions, dematerialization, teleportation, and levitation of large objects. More than that, in cases of possession, the spirit comes through very clearly. It says what it is. Sometimes it calls itself by name. If you listened to a tape recording of the possessed, you would have no trouble recognizing the difference between a human and an inhuman spirit.”
“Why don’t you play them here?” a woman puts in.
“We used to play tape recordings for our audiences,” Lorraine replies, “but in a large group of people, there are just too many receptive psychologies. Exposure to the real thing is bound to have negative effects on some.”
It proves to be another hour before the Warrens are actually able to leave the municipal building.
Later that evening, after the talk is over, Ed and Lorraine relax at home with friends. Why do they take so many questions from the audience at the lectures?
“The questions are part of the program,” Lorraine answers. “When we finish speaking, we always throw open the proceedings for questions. Although sometimes,” she jokes, “I wake up in the middle of the night hearing the distant cry of ‘One more question, please.’ As far as our lectures go, we see them as being a two-way street. People come to hear us talk because they’re interested in what we have to say. In return, we provide a good two-hour briefing, I guess you might call it, on the subject of spirit phenomena. When we’re done speaking, we interact with the audience through questions. We see our role as being an educational one. This is why we try to answer everybody’s question.”
Why so much interest these days in spirits and supernatural phenomena?
“People have always been interested in the occult,” Lorraine answers. “But in the last ten years, the public has been exposed to so much information on the subject of spirits and the supernatural that they’re trying to come to grips with it. Wherever we go, people have read The Exorcist. They’ve read about our involvement in the Amityville case. They want to know more. They want to learn how and why these terrifying phenomena occur, and what’s behind them. The argument that spirits are an illusion, or a psychological quirk, doesn’t hold water any more. People want to know the truth, even if the answer is downright unpleasant.”
The Warrens speak matter-of-factly about the existence of spirits. How do they reply to the assertion that there is no such thing?
“There has never been a person, past or present, who could disprove the existence of the supernatural,” Ed asserts. “But, given the same considerations any individual would have in a court of law, I could—if called upon for a proper reason—prove that ghosts exist; that apparitions exist; that haunted houses exist; that supernatural phenomena exist; and that the inhuman demonic spirit exists.”
Ed displays a picture, taken in a demonically-infested house, of what looks like the ghost of a boy.
“That was no ghost,” Ed says, shaking his head. “The spirit that had been commanding the environment at that time assumed many different guises. But, ultimately, they were all the same: they were one. As for the picture, the boy had no eyes. That is a trademark of the demonic. Whenever it manifests, there is always a flaw—there’s always something unnatural about its appearance. Sometimes the flaw is so obvious you miss it at first, but the flaw is always there.”
If there is one message that Ed and Lorraine Warren try to get across, it’s that the occult is basically an accident waiting to happen. “In the last decade,” says Ed, “there has been a hundredfold increase in negative occult practices. Why? Because for the most part, people don’t know that real, negative forces exist in the world. Instead, the occult is made to seem like a game, a diversion, a cure-all for what ails you. Just look at the way the occult is treated in newspapers and magazines these days—as a harmless novelty. Well it isn’t harmless, it can be dangerous! When Lorraine and I lecture, we give what we feel is a needed counterargument to all this trumped-up interest in the occult. We show the negative occult, for what if really is: a fool’s paradise. For those simply interested in the material, who want to learn how to avoid spirit problems, knowledge of the subject isn’t just power, but a weapon of protection. Forewarned, in other words, is forearmed.”
After thirty-four years in the work, they’ve seen it all: the shock, the terror, the incredible phenomena. For Ed and Lorraine, the phenomena make sense; they know why it happens. After a lifetime of investigation into the unknown, the Warrens now share this knowledge of the supernatural and how it functions. But beware! “The demonic comes in many forms,” Ed intones, “some far worse than what we talked about tonight!”
*The New York Times, November 15, 1974.
II
Art an
d Apparitions
Incredible as it may seem, demonology and exorcism are still practiced in this modern day and age. Indeed, there are seven recognized demonologists in North America alone. Six are ordained clergymen, members of various major religions—the seventh is Ed Warren. Each is unique; all have experienced horrors beyond imagining. And each man lives in constant mortal danger.
How did Ed Warren get involved in demonology? Was it a calling, he was asked?
“No, I think of a calling as being something lofty and majestic,” Ed admits. “But I firmly believe the work I do today is something that was definitely meant to be. I say this because a number of strong factors affected me even as a very young child.
“I was five,” he recalls, “when I first realized that something unusual was going on in this world. Where we lived, we had an old spinster landlady who didn’t like dogs—or kids. She’d sit by the window and actually wait for you to do something wrong. When you did, she’d come flying out of the house, screaming like a madwoman.
“Well, about a year after she died, I was upstairs in the same house, taking off my play shoes. The sun was going down, and the room was getting dark. As I sat there on the floor, the closet door opened all by itself. Inside the dark closet I saw a dot of light, about the size of a firefly. In a few seconds, the light grew to human length, and then, incredibly, the apparition of the landlady stood before me, semitransparent, wearing what looked like some sort of shroud. She was frowning as usual, just like she looked in life. Then she vanished.
“Because I was only five, I didn’t know if this kind of thing was natural, but I sensed it wasn’t because it scared me. When I told my father, who was a Connecticut state trooper, he told me to forget what I saw and never tell anyone. Well, I never told anyone, but I also never forgot what I saw.”
As Ed grew older, the search for answers about such strange goings-on became an intellectual quest that formed the basis for his later career. Being a perceptive child, he wanted to know why these strange things went on around him, and whether other people had experiences similar to his own.
The Demonologist: The Extraordinary Career of Ed and Lorraine Warren Page 2