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I wear it in every episode, and their Pima cotton tee is another favorite because that extra long staple cotton holds its color in shape, wash after wash. And it's not just clothes, bedding, bath, cookware, travel gear, Quince has quietly become my go-to for the house too. Great year every day, go to quince.com/thewifiles for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. Now available in Canada and the UK too. That's qiuinc.com/thewifiles for free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.com/thewifiles In 1948, the Cold War got weird. There was the space race, the arms race, and the psychic race. Rumors at a Moscow said Soviet scientists were testing telepathy in labs. If mine could be a weapon, American intelligence won and won, but there was a problem. No respectable scientists would touch the subject, and Congress was never going to fund sciences, at least not publicly. The psychic race needed a man willing to bet his career on it. That man was a 30-year-old doctor from Chicago named Andrea Purich. The army put Purich through medical school at Northwestern during the war. While he was still a student, Purich published a theory that his colleagues wouldn't go near. He believed the human brain was a radio. Neurons didn't just fire, they transmitted, and anything that could transmit could also receive. If he was right, telepathy wasn't magic, it was biology, and Purich wanted to prove it. He rented a 45-room mansion in Glencove Main and started building. He converted one of the rooms into a Faraday cage, a chamber wrapped in copper screen that blocks radio waves and electricity. If the brain is a radio, you test it like a radio. Put a psychic inside a room that no signal can penetrate and see what still gets through. He called the project "The Roundtable Foundation of Electrobiology", so the program had a name of facility and a testing protocol. The only thing Purich was missing was money. He needed private funding. "He had private funding, and it reminds me. I need to launch the kickstart of my mastectomy." Just why, if you want me to have the cat eat you? I'll give you 500 to never talk about this again. Do I? Done. The first check came from Alice Aster Boovery, her father was the richest man on the Titanic. He went down with a ship in 1912, and Alice inherited a fortune, and an obsession with the afterlife. After that, the donor list read like a who is who of American wealth and power, business tycoons, erises, and politicians. Henry Wallace, Franklin Roosevelt's former vice president, he cut a check. These people sat on corporate boards, advised the White House, and had some ties to the OSS, which became the CIA. Purich tested mediums and clairvoyance from around the world, and most of them disappointed him. Then the Indian philosopher D.G. Vinod took Purich's right ring finger, held it for a minute, and whistled softly. They held the guy's finger for a full minute. Pulled my finger into two-second transaction, and anything longer you're dating. That's not what this was. He pulled his finger and heard whistling, "Hello." Vinod spent the next hour describing private events from Purich's life in perfect detail. The roundtable was now in business. And on New Year's Eve, 1952, Vinod laid down inside the testing room. And at nine o'clock, Vinod started talking. It was Vinod's voice, but the words weren't his. The words came from nine ancient Egyptian gods, and Purich recorded everything. The voice was slow and deliberate, nothing like Vinod's. The voice called itself the Great Indian, the nine gods of Heliopolis, worshiped in Egypt for 3,000 years before Christ. When they said they weren't a myth, they were real and physical, and they weren't gods. They were alien minds on a spacecraft watching Earth. The nine said they controlled the universe and guided all of human history, but they worked through influence, not miracles. A person met someone at the right time, a door opened, a decision looked ordinary until years later when the pattern became visible. Vinod came out of the trans with no memory of what happened. But Purich had dozens of pages of notes, including physics equations that didn't make sense, at least not to him. But he didn't have much time to study his notes, because six weeks later, the United States Army recalled Purich to active duty. He went to Edgwood Arsenal in Maryland, where the military tested hypnosis, LSD, and masculine on soldiers. His orders were to find a drug that enhanced extra-sensory perception, psychic research, and mind control, funded by the US military. That summer, he went back to Maine on leave, and on June 27th, 1953, under a full moon, he gathered nine people at the mansion, one for each of the nine gods, and he picked these people carefully. Eight were wealthy and connected, Purich took the ninth chair for himself, Vinod sat in the middle. At midnight, the nine returned, and this time they came with a mission. They said the nine people at the table were chosen to transform human civilization. That in answer to any religion or government, they answered to something much older and much more powerful. Then the cotton threads appeared. Nine threads on the floor, three feet from Vinod, nobody saw where they came from. I should have checked his belly button. Who? The magic guy. What's his name? Conan? Vinod. Rimrod. Vinod. Whatever it is, my money's still on belly button. There was one thread for each person at the table, identical to the sacred thread Hindu Brahmins received an initiation. The nine chosen ones picked up the threads and accepted the assignment. Many outside that room would have believed the word of it. Purich barely believed it, but three years later, a stranger a thousand miles away sent him a letter that proved the nine were real. You know that feeling when you text the team, "Hey, did anybody call that guy back?" And you get nothing. Silence. Tumbleweeds. Then two hours later, somebody drops a single thumbs up emoji like that's an update. Meanwhile the guys already found somebody else, hired them, and is probably going to send a Christmas card. That's why today's episode is brought to you by Quote, spelled Q-U-O, the business phone system built so you never miss a call. Here's what I like about it. All your calls, texts, and voicemails live in one place. So it doesn't matter who picks up, anyone on the team can see the whole conversation and just handle it instead of starting from zero. And if nobody's around, Quote's got a built-in AI agent that answers after hours, deals questions, even books the appointment for you. Recover it even when you're closed. Set it up in minutes, keep the number you already have, and add people as you grow. No IT department required. Money is on the line. Always say hello with Quote. Try Quote for free, plus get 20% off your first six months when you go to Quote.com/Y. That's Q-U-O.com/Y. After the session, Vinod returned to India, and the 9 went quiet. When the money ran out, purge went to Mexico looking for sacred mushrooms to open his mind. At the hotel, Purge's room was accidentally given to an American couple from Michigan. Dr. Charles Lockheed and his wife. Purge met them. While he'd said they were contactees, space intelligences spoke through them. These were purge's kind of people so they kept in touch. A month after Purge came home, a letter from Lockheed arrived.
It described a young Arizona contactee, George Hunt Williamson, no connection to Maine, no connection to Purich. He never heard of the roundtable. But somehow Williamson received the same transmission from the 9, on the same nights in 1952 and 1953. Purich still had his doubts, but then he got to the last page. The letter contained the Einstein-Lorence transformation, the physics equation that describes how time and space distort near the speed of light. Purich recognized it, the 9 spoke the same equation through Vinod. Nobody outside that copper room could have known this. The 9 broadcasts the same message to receivers separated by a thousand miles through people who never met. After that, Purich stopped outing. He spent the rest of his life following the instructions from their broom. But the 9 were silent. Purich searched for another channel, but every medium he tested came up empty. It took 15 years, but the 9 finally found a vessel worthy of delivering their message, a 24-year-old Israeli power trooper who had been spoons with his mind. Meet new grippy setting mist from Mabelie, New York. Gel to mist technology locks in your look for up to 24 hours, with flexible all-day comfy grip. Try new grippy setting mist from Mabelie, New York. Maybe it's Mabelie. The call came from Israel. Yuri Geller claimed he could read minds and influence events. He said he could bend metal and stop clocks. Purich was skeptical, but witnesses said Geller was the real deal. So Purich flew to Tel Aviv to watch a work. Soon after that, both men were on a plane to America. At his estate in Austin, New York, Purich launched Operation Lab 9. He built another Faraday cage, had a new medium, and once again asked to speak to the ancient astronaut gods. And this time, they answered. But a different voice came through Geller. They called itself spectra, a superintelligence aboard a spacecraft 53,000 light years away. It was still the 9 but using a new name, and it had new instructions. To complete this new mission, Purich knew he needed help. So he took Geller to the Stanford Research Institute in California, the infamous SRI. Two physicists, Russell Targon, Harold Putoff, were also experimenting with psychics, specifically remote viewers. SRI was recruiting and training people who project their consciousness anywhere on Earth and beyond. Some of their most talented subjects could even see through time. The first experiments were easier than sending your consciousness to Mars. The subject was given a sealed envelope and asked to draw what was inside. The experiments were conducted in a shielded room, similar to a Faraday cage. Over seven days in August 1973, Geller made drawing after drawing. One envelope had a picture of graves, 24 of them. Geller drew 24 graves. Another image was the solar system. Geller drew that too. Geller got 10 in a row, and possible odds witnessed by trained scientists. In October 1974, Targon put off publisher experiments in nature. His highly respected peer-reviewed journal printed evidence that mines could see through walls. The CIA noticed they launched a secret program that eventually became Stargate. And for over 20 years, Stargate trained the CIA's psychic spies. And back at Lab 9, the guest list grew. Scientists from SRI, wealthy elites, politicians, even European nobility showed up using fake names. And one of those wealthy elites was British businessman John Whitmore. Whitmore was so impressed with purge that he wanted to make a movie about the nine. So they brought in and out of work TV writer, Gene Roddenberry. Gene Roddenberry wasn't impressed. He thought the psychics were making it all up. But something must have stuck with it. Because years later, in Deep Space 9, there's a character named Vinod. The episode is about a cult leader who is protected by a small inner circle. Season 2 Episode 15, Paradise. The cult leader, James, everyone's technology, so nobody can leave the planet. Do you know the episode number? You mean I've seen every episode of Star Trek given? Except the one with a whale, not the whale. Star Trek would down a dark alley, and I could not follow. Whether purge was a cult leader could be debated. But he had an inner circle, and I kept receiving instructions from the nine. Prepare humanity. Get the right people in place. The transformation is coming. One member of the inner circle was Ruth Forbes Payne Young. That forms. She was also the great granddaughter of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Her husband Arthur Young made his own fortune when he invented the bell helicopter. In February 1963, their son Michael Payne was at a dinner party with his wife, also named Ruth. At that party, they became friends with a Russian housewife who spoke almost no English. Marina Oswald. The Payne's didn't know it at the time, but seven months later, Marina's husband would be sneaking around their garage, hiding a rifle. This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. You've heard me mention BetterHelp plenty of times on this show. But I don't know that we've ever really dug into how many people actually love this service once they start using it. And you don't have to take my word for it. Head to betterhelp.com/reviews, and you can see real customer feedback updated every single day. Hundreds of people writing in about what their experience has actually been like. And the numbers back it up. BetterHelp has an average live therapy session rating of 4.9 out of 5, based on over 1.7 million client session reviews. More than 6 million people worldwide have used the platform. That's a lot of feedback, and it speaks for itself. 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[email protected]/WifeHouse. Before that dinner party could happen, someone had to bring Marina Oswald into that room. In the summer of 1962, the Harvey Oswald returned to Texas with a Russian wife, a baby daughter, and a problem. He spent nearly three years in the Soviet Union, and announced he wanted to give up his American citizenship, and then he changed his mind. The Russian-speaking community in Dallas helped the family at first, but Oswald wore them out with his temper and his politics. One by one, they walked away, but not George de Morenchild. He was a Russian-born aristocrat who became a Texas oilman. He moved in the same wealthy social and diplomatic circles as the Drexels, the Morgans, the Bouviers, and the Kennedys. He also had friends in the U.S. government, specifically the intelligence community. J. Walton Moore was an officer in the CIA's domestic contacts division. They collected information on Americans overseas. After every foreign trip, George sat down with Moore and told him what he saw. In 1962, Moore brought him an assignment, an ex-marine living in Fort Worth, just back from the Soviet Union. He was perfect for the job. He grew up in Minsk and Oswald had lived in Minsk for years. Of every man in Dallas, only one can sit across from Lee Oswald and talk about Lenin Avenue stretching to Victory Square, about the river, about the smell of popcorn at the circus. George was actually eager to chat with someone from his hometown, but he wouldn't risk his business or his reputation. Moore said both would be fine. In fact, there was a juicy oil contract in Haiti that could lend his way if he helped out the agency. So, George de Morenchild, with fresh orders to make a new friend, drove to Fort Worth. For about six months, he ran Oswald's life. He drove him to job interviews. He helped the family find housing. He even stepped into arguments when Lee got violent and Lee listened to George. On paper, the friendship made no sense. George de Morenchild dined with senators and oil executives. Lee Oswald worked a factory job in red marks during lunch, but the friendship was real. George liked him. He told people he felt sorry for Lee. He was bright, bitter, and in over his head. He stayed close until February 22, 1963, when he brought the Oswald's to a small party in Dallas. One of the guests was Ruth Payne, a separated mother who studied Russian. Marina needed someone to talk to, and Ruth wanted someone to practice with. By the end of the evening, they exchanged phone numbers. That spring, George de Morenchild left for Haiti and never saw Lee Harvey Oswald again. But he didn't need to. His mission was complete. The CIA's man in Dallas made one introduction, and it was the only one that mattered. The only thing left to do now was wait and watch history unfold. From Mavelin, New York. The rifle started in Chicago Mail Order Warehouse. It ended in a garage in Irving, Texas, wrapped into blanket, tucked behind camping equipment. Between those two points, a chain of introductions ran through one family. Ruth Payne was separated from her husband, Michael, who still played the mortgage on the house in Irving. Michael worked as a research engineer at Bell Helicopter in Fort Worth. He also held a security clearance. His mother was Ruth Forbes Payne,
young, the woman who accepted a cotton thread at a Saiyansan main. His stepfather was Arthur Young, the man who designed the bill helicopter and signed the checks for poor witch's research. In September 1963, a Ruth Payne-Pakter station wagon and drove east on a two-week trip to visit family. One of her stops was her sister Sylvia's house in Falls Church, Virginia. Falls Church is next door to Langley and Sylvia worked for the CIA. Then Ruth swung south into Orleans where the Oswalds were coming apart. He was out of work and Marina was pregnant with her second child. Ruth made her an offer, come live with me and Irving until the baby comes. Marina said yes and moved in permanently, but Lee stayed behind. He only came out on weekends. By that fall, he had almost nothing. His wife and children moved out, he lived in a rented room he was almost broke. The one thing he owned was wrapped in a blanket in the Payne's garage in Irving. Michael Payne thought he was camping here. By October, Lee needed work. Ruth made a few phone calls and helped Lee get a job as a warehouse clerk in Dallas. His first day at the Texas School Book Depository was October 16th. That same morning he was offered a job with an airline. Better work, better pay. He kept the warehouse job at Delie Plaza. When Kennedy came to Dallas for a motorcade, his route was unknown to the public until November 19th. Lee Oswald had already been at the depository for over a month. On the evening of Thursday, November 21st, Oswald came out to Irving a day early. Marina was surprised and not in a good way. He played with his daughters outside until dark, then three times that night, Lee begged her to move back to Dallas. She said no, three times. He went to bed angry. In the morning, he asked her for a kiss and she turned away. Then Lee Harvey Oswald was gone. He left his wedding ring on the dresser, and he never took that ring off, not in two and a half years of marriage. He left $170 in cash, almost everything he had. He did not leave a note. He walked into work carrying a long paper package. A coworker asked what was inside. Oswald said it was curtain rods. Let's talk about the number the Fed doesn't want you to say out loud. PCE inflation just came in at 4.1%, that's double their own 2% target. A target they've now missed, five years in a row. And here's the part of that that you really get your attention. The Fed's own projection says we don't get back to 2% until 2028. That's three more years of your dollar buying less than it does today. You're already feeling it. Rosary bills are up 32% since 2020. retirees have lost 26% of their purchasing power. And if your 401k isn't up 30% or more in real terms, you're not gaining, you're going backwards. And it doesn't stop there. The next wave of inflation is already in the pipeline. Here's the thing. Golden silver were never really a bet on inflation. They're insurance against the currency that's losing value on purpose. Golden crest metals can show you how to move a part of your IRA or 401k into physical golden silver, tax and penalty free, or help you buy directly if that's a better fit. It's a free conversation, no pressure, just information. Visit goldencressmetals.com/thewifiles or text the word "files" to metals that's 63825. You'll receive a free investor kit explaining how physical golden silver can be added to an IRA or 401k, a free portfolio review with no obligation or hard sell and unqualified purchases up to $25,000 in bonus silver. At 12.29 on November 22nd, 1963, the presidential motorcade turned from Houston onto Elm Street in Dilly Plaza. Kennedy sat in the back of an open-top Lincoln waving. At 12.30, the shots came. Three rounds. Kennedy slept over. Governor Connolly collapsed in the seat ahead of him. The limousine raised a parkland hospital where doctors pronounced the president dead at one o'clock. On the sixth floor of the depository, police found three spent shells, a cart worth boxed near the window, and a long, empty paper bag. Hidden near the stairwell, a bolt action 6.5 carcana rifle that traced directly to Lee Harvey Oswald. And, you know, the rest of the story. 45 minutes later, Officer JD Tippett was shot dead on a sidewalk in Oakcliffe. Police arrested Oswald at the Texas Theater. Two days later, in the basement of Dallas Police Headquarters, a strip club owner named Jack Ruby stepped out of a crowd and shot Oswald on live television. Oswald died at Parkland Hospital. There was no trial, no cross examination, not one word of testimony from Oswald, but there didn't need to be. He was the shooter, the lone gunman, and that was the end of it. But a murdered president and a murdered suspect left the country full of questions. So seven days after Dallas, President Lyndon Johnson appointed a commission of seven men to answer those questions, chaired by the Chief Justice of the United States, or Warren, the press called it the Warren Commission. For ten months, the commission took testimony from hundreds of witnesses. In September 1964, it published its answer, an 888 page report, backed by 26 volumes of evidence and one conclusion. Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone, case closed, officially. Except the case never glows for the American people, instead the questions got louder. Within a few years, most Americans didn't believe the official story, and people spent decades digging into details that the commission ignored. What they found always led back to one house, Michael and Ruth Payne's. Marino lived with the Payne's, Oswald was there every weekend. He was there the night before the murder. The murder weapon was in their house. Nobody was closer to the Oswald family than the Payne's. Ruth Payne became the commission's most valuable civilian witness. She testified longer than almost anyone, and she translated for Marina, which still spoke very little English. The translations were the backbone of the official story of who Lee Oswald was and what he intended to do that day. The backyard photos, Oswald posing with the rifle and his Marxist newspapers, they came out of Ruth Payne's garage with the rest of the family's belongings. The rifle came out of that same garage, and so did one piece of evidence almost nobody talks about. When Dallas police searched the Payne's house, Detective Gus Rose found a Minox camera loaded with film in Oswald's bag. A Minox is a German spy camera, small enough to hide in the palm of her hand, intelligence agencies loved him. Warehouse clerks couldn't afford them. The camera was photographed and put into police inventory. Then, the camera disappeared. But something showed up in the FBI's inventory, a Minox light meter. Three times the FBI asked Gus Rose to change the paperwork from camera to light meter. Rose refused every time, and he testified to all this under oath. Doctors asked why the Dallas PD said camera, and the FBI said light meter. There wasn't a good answer. So Jay Edgar Hoover sent orders to the Dallas office. Find that camera. And the next day, someone did, Michael Payne. Skeleton mist technology locks in your look for up to 24 hours, with flexible all day comfy grip. No tightness, no stickiness, no residue, just plump, dewy, hydrated skin that still feels like your skin. Maybe it's Mabelie. The next day, Michael Payne handed the FBI a Minox micro camera. He said it was his and was in the garage the whole time in a coffee can. Michael said the police weren't interested in a spy camera, found in a house occupied by an effector's Russian wine. And the serial number on Michael's camera had five digits. The Minox Corporation said their cameras had six digits, and the serial number is important. It's how Minox could trace a camera's manufacturer date and origin. A five-digit number makes it untraceable. The war commission had the pains under oath for days. Nobody asked them one question about that camera. The rifle, the photos, the translations, the spy camera, and the job that put Oswald in that window. Every one of those things ran through Ruth Payne's house. Even Oswald's mother said she believed both Marina and Ruth Payne were involved. Somehow the family at the center of the evidence was never treated as part of the case. And here's the thing, the FBI was already looking at the pains. Twice in the weeks before the assassination and agents stopped by. He was keeping tabs on the defector's wife who lived there. The bureau had a file open on Lee Harvey Oswald before a single shot was fired. So when the shots came, every phone line that touched Oswald's world became a live wire, and the FBI started listening. On the afternoon of the assassination, Michael Payne called Ruth from work. He said he felt sure Oswald killed the president, but didn't feel Oswald was responsible. And then came the next sentence, "We both know who is responsible for the assassination." When commission lawyers asked Michael about this, he denied saying it, and the call never appeared in the war report. It was reduced to a few sentences in an FBI file called Commission Document 206. And in that file, the source was redacted, the names of the people on the call.
were redacted. Just a male voice and a female voice. The phone numbers were not identified. For more than a decade, we both know who was responsible. That quote only lived in that buried report. When the files were opened in the 1970s, it was revealed that it was, in fact, Michael and Ruth Payne on that call. Something else was missing from the war report. In all 26 volumes, all 888 pages, purged the round table and the nine didn't appear once. What they should have. The say-outs world was closer to the commission than anyone knew. One of the seven commissioners was former director of the CIA and longtime villain on this channel, Aladolus. Dulles should not have been on that commission. Four, a few reasons. One, Kennedy fired him. After the Bay of Pigs, Kennedy said he wanted to, quote, "shatter the CIA into a thousand pieces and scatter into the winds." He believed Dulles wanted to drive the US into a war with Cuba, which they tried over and over, so Dulles was out. And there's another reason Dulles had no business being on the commission. He had a secret. During the war, he ran a spy in Switzerland, Mary Bancroft. She was his agent and she was his mistress. And for more than 40 years, Mary Bancroft's best friend was Ruth Forbes, paint young. They traveled together, they vacationed together. "The commission is my girlfriend's best friend. He's the say-outs lady, whose son had the rifle in his garage." Those are the facts. "I've seen tighter plots and vertical dramas." He watched those. "Gilthy pleasure. Hey, just welcome." While Dulles sat on the commission, Bancroft wrote a letter reminding him how well she knew Michael Payne's mother. That letter wasn't in the report either. It was found 40 years later. The man get it fired had the files on the family that housed his killer. The files on the family of his mistress' best friend. And 14 years later, someone started burning the files. Meet new grippy setting mist from Mavily New York. Gel to mist technology locks in your look for up to 24 hours, with flexible, all-day comfy grip. Try new, grippy setting mist from Mavily New York. "Maybe it's Mavily." On September 5th, 1976, Georges de Mauritiuschelt wrote a letter to the director of the CIA, Banger for Health. He said vigilantes surrounded his family. Their phone was tapped. They were followed everywhere. "Either FBI is involved in this, or they do not want to accept my complaints. We are driven to insanity by the situation. I tried to write stupidly and unsuccessfully, about Lee H. Oswald and must have angered a lot of people. I do not know. But to punish an elderly man like myself and my highly nervous and sick wife is really too much. Could you do something to remove the net around us?" The director read the letter, and he recognized the name. His prep school roommate was de Mauritiuschelt's nephew. And into Mauritiuschelt's own address book, there was an entry for an old friend. Bush, George H. W. Poppy. The director of the CIA was George Bush. Bush's staff asked how well he knew the writer. Bush said he knew the man since the 1940s. Then in a memo, he added a strange sentence. "I do know this man de Mauritiuschelt. I don't recall his role in all this." "I don't recall his politician for I recall vividly, but not until I have counseled President." And Bush wrote back to George De Mauritiuschelt. "In your situation, I can well imagine how the attention you described in your letter affect both you and your wife. However, my staff has been unable to find any indication of interest in your activities. On the part of federal authorities in recent years, I can only speculate that you may have become newsworthy again in view of the renewed interest in the Kennedy assassination, and thus maybe attracting the attention of people in the media." Two months after that, George tried to take his own life, four times. His wife got so scared that she hadn't committed. Doctors put him through electro-shock therapy and released them at the end of 1976. In March 1977, journalist Edward Epstein went to Palm Beach to interview him. They met at the Breaker's Hotel for Breakfast. That's when George finally admitted in his CIA contact, Jay Walt Moore, put him on Oswald. "I would never have contacted Oswald in a million years if Moore had not sanctioned it. Too much was at stake." The friendship was real. The assignment was too. It took a break for lunch. Epstein went back to his room. They were scheduled to pick things back up at three. That same morning, congressional investigator Gaiton Fonsey drove to George's house. "Joy's name is Fonsey." Yep. Cool name. George wasn't home. Fonsey left his card with George's daughter. George came back at two. He saw the card and went upstairs. Almost 40 minutes later, his daughter found him. He apparently shot himself with a shotgun. But six people were in that house, and not one of them heard a shotgun go off. But a maid had a tape recorder going. She was recording a soap opera. On the tape, you hear a single blast at 221 when the sound of a gun hitting the floor. And George wasn't the only witness connected to JFK who turned up dead, Moore didn't turn up at all. Chicago mob boss Shem Jankana was shot in his kitchen before he could testify about the CIA's plots against Castro. Mobster Johnny Razzelli went missing and turned up in an oil drum. An ex-comp where Shem Jankana was linked to the mob and the CIA. He was also killed in Chicago in the sandwich shop. Hale Boggs was a congressman on the Warren Commission. He publicly criticized the Warren report and called for a new investigation in the 1970s. He disappeared in a small plane over Alaska in 1972. The wreckage was never found. And a year and a half after Palm Beach, the lab 9 estate burned down. Decades of four inches files went up with it, along with the family dog. He didn't talk to the police. But later he wrote he believed it was the CIA. Then, poor rich went into hiding. He died in 1995 after a fall without a staircase. By the end of the 1970s, the JFK witnesses were all dead. And everyone in poor rich's world lost their jobs, their reputations, and their funding. Some people lost their minds. Every person in the council of nine, and every person who can name them was gone. This is one of the stories where the true parts are strange enough without any help, so it's separate what happened from what didn't. The say-ons has happened. The round table was real and so was that donor list. Poor rich's assignment to find a drug that enhances ESP is true. The nine are a different story. Everything from inside that copper room comes through one man. The aliens and predictions, the equations, nobody else saw any of it. And poor rich didn't write about it until 1974. After JFK, after the Warren report, after the pains got famous. Either nine aliens predicted history, or one man made up a story to claim a piece of it. Now, Gellers 10 for 10 really happened in front of witnesses, but he's been controversial for years. But the CAA wrote about him that he demonstrated his paranormal perceptual ability and a convincing and unambiguous manner. But that wasn't good enough to keep Stargate running. The program was eventually shot down because it wasn't yielding valuable results. But that's also being debated. What happened to Dallas is different. There are records. There are witnesses. There's connections. Louting connections. Too many connections to explain away as coincidence. Lee Harvey Oswald got a job at Dealy Plaza over a month before the president's route was announced. That's either a coincidence, or he knew something. Now, I leaned toward he knew something, but until we have all the JFK files, all we can do is speculate, which we love to do. Now, it's true that everything ran through Ruth Payne's house. But she was never charged. And she said for 60 years, she was just helping a friend. She's still around today, and she sticks by that story and he leaves her alone. The spy camera turned up in the FBI's own files. Then it became a light meter. The police receipt says camera, and FBI signed it. The property clerk admitted he changed the paperwork when the viewer asked him to, and Hoover's teletypes about this still exist. Skeptics will say the camera appears on the Friday list, but the bag wasn't searched until Saturday. Maybe someone confused the camera case for a camera, but a camera case doesn't hold film, and Gus Rose opened it and found a role in saw. He said so under oath, and he never wavered. Will, none of it makes anyone a spy, but it's one more thing that ran through that garage that got rewritten on paper. That phone call happened. The law report didn't have much to say about it, and without an actual recording, Michael Payne is innocent until proven guilty, but it's another uncomfortable detail. George Des Mornshield confessed, but he was dying, and he was paid for his story, so the confession is not solid. But he was a CIA informant. At the time, J. Walton more denied that, but the classified file show George really was reporting to the CIA. The CIA denied a lot of things about JFK, and they still do. I don't think George was killed, but the uncomfortable connections are there.
Dulles is the real problem with all of this. His mistress' best friend was all over the story and was never investigated. That's not a confession, but it proves the war report was incomplete at best, and corrupt at worst. And everything flows from that. Dulles should have never been on that commission, and I'll never stop saying it. Dead mobsters happened. Were they connected to JFK? Maybe. Was the mob connected to the CIA? Absolutely. But the one death that should bother you is the dead congressman. The guy from the commission held box. His plane vanished over Alaska. Now that's a place where it planes vanish. But it would be nice to have some closure on that, but no wreckage, no closure. Poor Rich's house really was set on fire while he was away. His kids were home, but they got out in time. Their dog was really killed. And his notes were lost, but he published before the fire. So here's what we're left with, an ordinary explanation. Wealthy families are connected. They're connected with each other, with the government, and with the intelligence community. Wealthy people cluster. Yeah, those sure they cluster around the CIA and the guy who shot the president. My poker buddies cluster around TV, warm light beer, and somebody's wife's meatballs. You have a point. The correlation is not conspiracy. And it ain't like sculpatory either, counselor. Clearing someone to kill. I know what it means. But that doesn't explain the pattern. The same people kept appearing around psychic research, military money, the pains, Oswald, and the CIA. I didn't even get into the more island UFO connection to JFK, but I have a whole episode on that. More names like Fred Chrisman and Guy Bannister, more people connected to New Orleans, all connected to the CIA, all connected to the mob, and the death of a president. Coincidences are not a conspiracy, until they are. The alien gods weren't real. The nine people were. They had the money, the connections, and the power to change the world. And nobody could prove they didn't. There are people out there right now sitting around the table, deciding who lives and who dies, deciding which elected leaders are inconvenient, deciding what stories you're allowed to hear. It doesn't matter if you're a mobster, a strip club owner, or the president of the United States, if you become a problem, you go away. But nobody at a table like that thinks they're a villain. They think they're chosen. A god, a flag, a voice in the dark. Something always gives powerful people permission. And once they have it, the ordinary rules don't apply to them. The people at the table change. But there's never an empty seat. Thank you so much for hanging out today. My name is AJ. You know how to fish? Worked it wise. If you're new, best friends, be a good mix, and keeps driving you to job, and it's used as a good plan for the kids. This has been The White Files. Yet for her learned anything, he'd appreciated it if you could subscribe. I don't care. But he really wants you to like, subscribe, comment, and share. That stuff really makes his spins tangle. Like most topics we cover on the channel today is recommended by you. But this story you want to see or learn more about, go to the whitefiles.com/chips. Send me an email, catch us on Discord in the comments. You'll find you know where we are. If you enjoy the stories I tell here on the White Files, check out my other show on the channel. It's called The Basement. It's a conversation show where I chat with the interesting people behind these episodes. Some of them you know, but a lot of them you don't. But they're all people I find fascinating. Experts on topics like the moon landing hoax, or it was real. Did you have cake and spheresy? DMT laser code was a good one. Pre-cognition with Eric Wargo. One of my favorites, Mark Daytoni, was here last week. Mr. Ballin was in. 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[music] [music] Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah! I played Bolivia's an area 51, a secret code inside the Bible said I was. I love my U and Bolivia's an paranormal phone, as well as mirrors it. So I'm saying it like I should. But then another conspiracy theory becomes the truth, my friends. And it never ends. I know it never ends. [music] I feel the crack at it. I got stuck inside my home. Within chaos, I'm trucked. I'll be in only two hours. Dude, Stanley Kubrick paid the moon landing alone. On a film set, I wore the shadow people there. The ride's well and he is just for the smiling man. I'm told, and his name was Cole. I can't believe, I'm catching with the fish. And the fish are Thursday night, Wednesday day two. And when I'm happy, I'll do the night. Oh, I ever wanted what you just did to the truth. So the world's on your feet, I'll do the lie. [music] The mouth man's side, and the solar storm still come. To a god the secret city underground. Mysterious number stations, planets are phoned to. Rockets stocking, and when the dark watchers bounce. In a simulation, don't you worry though. The black night set a light and told me so. And when I'm happy, I'll do the lie. We can't won't love the dance, when the feeling is right on the way we stand tight We can't win love the dance, we can't win love the dance
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