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Terry L Lattimer

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Supernatural Summertime Blues
By Terry L Lattimer
Monday, March 26, 2007

Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Terry L Lattimer
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           >> View all 7

Summer 1968: cars, Hendrix, karma, rollercoasters, pop festivals, a fortune teller's gift - and her deadly warning.

Paranormal Occult Pan-dimensional Artifacts: # 2




It was toward the end of the summer of 1968 and we had just left the First Annual Newport Pop Festival, the “we” being my girlfriend, her girlfriend, and her boyfriend, the driver, who was a good buddy of mine.  I know, how cute, what a cozy foursome, but none of us knew that this "cuteness" would become a factor that would one day help save our lives.


We had just seen the seminal heavy-metal power trio, “Blue Cheer” perform their version of the rock classic “Summertime Blues” (which became an instant “classic” in it’s own right) and the song was in playback mode in my head or was on the radio or on the tape deck as we cruised in the driver’s mint classic two-tone white and pearl-purple custom ‘56 Chevy Bel Air.  It had been a day to remember; good vibes, good music, good people, good ride -- and there was still more fun ahead.

We decided that on the way back to our hometown of Westchester we’d stop at the Pike Amusement Park in Long Beach to ride the Cyclone Racer rollercoaster. Although built in 1930, it was still a kick in ‘68!

We joked, teased and goofed-off as we walked down the midway toward the Cyclone.  As we were passing a short corridor between two structures, a mysterious woman motioned to me from a doorway with a sign above that read “Fortune Teller” $1.00.  The Fortune Teller motioned again; I felt compelled to see what she had to say and convinced the others to join me, “just for fun”.

Once in the Fortune Teller’s darkened chambers she performed a brief incantation and then settled down to business.  She said she was expecting us and had an important message from beyond.  We comically smiled to each other, but kept it cool.

She said that although she felt the four of us had a positive karmic bond, there was an aura of doom around us and in order to escape a deadly fate we would all need to be unified.  Strangely, none of us chided her, but to break the ominous ice, I asked her if she could tell us what this “doom” might be, she said she saw us, “... underwater with our backs to bright lights”, and when that occurred, we would all be in mortal danger!

That was a bummer, a negative turn in an otherwise fun day.

We politely but less-than-enthusiastically thanked her and by the time I pulled out the $2.00 group fee everyone else had exited.

The Fortune Teller motioned me aside and with great mystery and reverence, handed me an object and closed my hands around it and said, “Take this Talisman, for when that time comes”.  Whatever it was, it was wrapped in dark red silky material, I thanked her, put it in my jean’s front pocket and left the darkened world of psychics to emerge into the early evening lit-up world of the midway; and to “face the music” times three.

After a few rapid doses of deservedly well-placed jabs regarding my choice of “fun” and discussions pro and con on the politics of psychics and the ramifications of foretelling the future; I told them of the Fortune Teller’s gift and we passed the strange Talisman around.  It seemed to give off a mysterious aura with its erotic sculpted nature and weird provocative beauty.  In the end we decided we were not going to let this weird little scene affect our day.  Everyone was up for the Cyclone and we ended-up taking back-to-back rides on the Cyclone - exhilarating!

As we were leaving the midway, I looked down the short corridor leading to the Fortune Teller’s chambers; it was dark and shadowy except for the neon sign above the open door.  I thought I could see her silhouette in the recesses of the darkness beyond the door and waved her goodbye.

I was open to the supernatural and had read that psychics don’t always have their information spelled out to them and pass on what they can.  It’s up to us to make any sense of its significance.


A little over five weeks later, all four of us were out cruising in the Venice/Culver City area celebrating a rare treat; an advance promo tape of the new Jimi Hendrix Experience “Electric Ladyland” double-album!  The driver’s girlfriend had put in a request to her father who worked at Reprise, Jimi’s label.  It was early evening and we were rockin’ to Jimi when a few scattered raindrops began to hit the windshield.  A few minutes later we saw lightning flash, then thunder and then a few seconds later, a sudden downpour!

We had been driving for a bit in the rain when a car up ahead in the opposing fast lane of a three-lane boulevard appeared to be very close to the center line - in fact it was crossing the center line!

The custom ‘56 Chevy Bel-Air had a raked-to-the-sky rear-end with a huge pair of meats and a lowered-to-the-earth front-end for street racing, but it was easy to fish-tail and spin-out on a wet or rainy street.  Thanks to the masterful maneuvering of the driver, we avoided a head-on, but the act of avoidance ultimately caused the raked Chevy to begin Bat-turns as we spun dangerously down the boulevard!

The girls were screaming, I probably was too and the driver had his hands full trying to gain control.  We stopped spinning and straightened-out but were sliding backwards into the oncoming traffic!!

Through the rain-streaked rear window were three lanes filled with the bright headlights of oncoming cars!  I could hear the Fortune Teller’s words, “...underwater with our backs to bright lights.  And when that occurred, we would all be in mortal danger!"

Whenever the four of us were together I brought along the Talisman.  I clutched it in my outstretched fist and all four of us knew what to do; as we braced for impact everyone’s hands met covering the Talisman.


Everything was silent, no impact, no tires squealing, no sound of rain, no screaming, no horns, ....just slow motion glistening headlights passing us on both sides, and when the Chevy finally came to a stop, we ended-up “parked” on the opposite side of the street, facing in the right direction, against the curb.

Both of us held our girlfriends close and when we realized that all four of us were unhurt, the driver and I got out of the car to check the damage ...there was none.

We just looked at each other as we stood in the rain getting soaked.  This was impossible!  There should be wreckage everywhere, yet nothing!

The girls called for us to get back in the car.

We all four sat there, almost unable to move, trying to figure out what had just happened.  We all agreed that there was nowhere for the oncoming cars to go, they were blocked in by parked cars plus they had their own opposing traffic to deal with before we came spinning into the scene.  Yet we all remember seeing the headlights pass us on both sides as if we didn’t even exist, no horns or swerving, no crashes, it was as if we were ghosts.  I remember at that moment of our adrenaline-induced discussion “patting myself down”, just to make sure I was of matter and not vapor, but we all agreed that we were in fact alive, and not the living dead.

So if no one saw us or hit us or even acknowledged us, then the Talisman’s protection worked, just like the Fortune Teller said!  Groovy! But what happened to us?  It was at that point at which our “logical” explanations stopped.

We all had to finally face the fact that for a few seconds, as insane as it sounded, we were there in the Chevy, yet we weren’t physically there on the street!

We were all totally spaced-out.

Luckily, the driver’s girlfriend’s parents were out of town and we had their place to work off the adrenaline and hopefully crash.

The next morning within our existential discussions the fact was brought up that the new Hendrix Electric Ladyland tape was playing prior to and throughout the incident and the very eerie coincidences of the titles: “Crosstown Traffic”, (what we were in); “Long Hot Summer Night”, (started  that  way);  “Rainy Day,  Dream  Away”,

(what it turned out to be); “Still Raining, Still Dreaming”, (soaked and supernatural); “Gypsy Eyes”/”Voodoo Child”, (the Fortune Teller); “...And The Gods Made Love” ...and after surviving that “experience” we felt like we were, and we did!

Since we wouldn’t have believed it if we hadn’t experienced it personally, in our final discussions we all agreed to keep it a secret among us.  At least we had each other to verify our experience and our sanity.  We knew that supernatural intervention (and a little bit of karmic "cuteness") had somehow saved all our lives.


The next day I returned to the Pike to thank the Fortune Teller.  When I got to the end of the corridor the sign above the door had changed, it now read, “Palm Reader”.  I knocked on the door, and after some shuffling inside, a much older woman answered the door.  I inquired about the Fortune Teller, and the Palm Reader said that she “up and left” a little over a month ago.

She must’ve left soon after our group reading.

I thanked the Palm Reader and politely declined her offer for a reading; she didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it herself.

Just as I was leaving she called me back and said, “Wait a minute, I think I have something for you”.  I turned back and waited for her to return.  She returned to the doorway with a small envelope and handed it to me saying, “The Fortune Teller said that a young man may be looking for her and asked if I’d give this to him, so I guess this is for you”.  I took the envelope, thanked her, and as I turned to leave she added, “If you want to ride the Cyclone, you better do it today, it’s the last day of operation, then it’s going to be demolished”.

Although it would have been historic to ride the last day, I had my fill of “thrill rides” for a while, so I passed on it.

As I walked away I opened the envelope, I felt saddened that I couldn’t have thanked the Fortune Teller.  I took out the letter and unfolded it, it read, “You’re welcome!”



After reading her note, I was feeling really good, so to commemorate the day I turned, ran back and rode the Cyclone one last time, forever.




This supernatural incident was just that, the result of a psychically-charged protective Talisman, given to those who needed it, by an unknown but truly gifted Female Fortune Teller with great insight and heart.  To her, eternal thanks.




All concepts, storylines, characters, logos, designs, 2D, 3D, 4D and digital art © ™ 2003, 2006 I.C. Inc. All Rights Reserved.



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Reviewed by gina jones/savchuk 9/4/2007
I am a gypsy and i know of such occurences. I have no problem with the idea of the Universe is unfolding as it should, We live and we learn thru some of the better cosmic stories. I enjoy all the forces that be when my eyes are wide open to all the possiblities. Life is a gift and it is in the prsent moment of fate that we just begin to hold on to faith and really live a full life, amen
Reviewed by Jim Oglesby 4/10/2007
I would like to begin the following comments about Supernatural Summertime Blues by stating that Terry Lattimer is a kindred spirit.
As the summer of 1968 was drawing to a close, Terry had experienced the awesome, mysterious content of and from what he coined, Supernatural Summertime Blues; like wise by the end of summer, 1968, I had experienced contacts with extraterrestrials.
Two kindred spirits, living on opposite coasts, yet each having paranormal encounters with the unknown.
In 1978, I got a transfer from the post office in Orlando, Fl. where I was a mail carrier to the main post office in Malibu, Ca.
Terry worked at the Malibu post office as a mail carrier also, and it was there that we met and a friendship quickly evolved into the “kindred spirit” relationship that is as strong today as it was back then.
For the 10 years that I lived and worked for the USPS, Terry and I spent a lot of what we considered quality time together.
Terry Lattimer is an honest, trust-worthy, individual who has always strived to rend the very best that life has too offer.
Too me, Supernatural Summertime Blues has a ring of truth to it that begs for more. I can’t wait to read and experience the other stories he has written about his life experiences.

P.S. Terry knows how to relate a good story too.

JEO/Kindred Spirit
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 3/27/2007
Excellent story; well done! :)

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