Chapter 38: Hypnotic memories

And baby and journalism news...

Going back in time:

From time to time it is suggested that witnesses in court cases be hypnotised to boost their memory of events at issue. The courts almost always rejected this for a number of reasons, not least that there is no guarantee the hypnotised memories would be any more accurate than those not gathered under a trance. The caution of the courts is understandable, but I am convinced that hypnosis can bring back long-forgotten memories. I know this because of the time I was once the manager and part-time stage assistant of the Australian stage hypnotist, Ronricco, also known as the radio broadcaster, Desmond Tocchini.

A feature of Ronricco’s performances was to take one of his adult subjects back in time. It was called age regression. He would put the subject into a deep trance and take them through the years to their youth. In so doing, he made sure that they were returning to times and events that were enjoyable. This was to avoid them being emotionally disturbed by unpleasant events. If, for example, they were taken back to a childhood party they’d enjoyed, they would be able to remember all their guests and the presents they received.

Age regression for married women was particularly revealing because they were asked to sign their name on a blackboard each time they were taken back to an earlier occasion. They would write their married name a few times, then switch to their maiden name before they were married. On reflection, there were risks with this — particular if there were multiple marriages and relationships that the women didn’t wish to be made public.

Although I became a skilled hypnotist during my time with Ronricco, I was never tempted to make a career of it. Journalism remained my clear preference. That said I would occasionally agree to demonstrate hypnosis to small groups of interested persons. One such occasion was when Rosemary and I were invited to a small party at the home of our great friends, Nat and Alma Kipner. Nat, a well-known pop music producer, writer and manager, asked to be hypnotised. He turned out to be an excellent subject, so I decided it would be interesting to take him through age regression.

Nat was then 50. As I took him back through the years, I had him write his name on a sheet of paper and as he did so it became more and more childlike. More interesting, though, was his American accent becoming more pronounced, reflecting the fact that he grew up in Dayton, Ohio. When I took him to the age of 12, we got chatting about what he would like to do with his life. I wondered whether he would like to become a song writer, but he said not. But he added: “I do like writing poems.” I spotted a writing pad on his desk nearby, opened it at a blank page and handed it to him. “Here’s one of your poems, Nat. Would you like to read it to us?” He readily agreed and recited a lovely poem about the Wizard of Oz.

When I brought him out of the trance, I asked him if he liked writing poetry and he agreed he did. Could he remember any of the childhood poems? He laughed and said not because it was too long ago. I then played him the tape recording I had made of the session. It is no exaggeration to report that Nat was astonished. It is a shame the recording no longer exists.

One of my earliest experiences of hypnosis was when Stan Gill’s rodeo and circus performed in Charlton, the Australian town where I grew up.

I remember going to this show — a weird mix of rodeo (which didn't appeal), hypnosis and variety. Rocky Martin (born Joseph Stanley Overell Simmonds) went on to become a prominent stage and TV hypnotist grandly renamed Martin St James. The mention of hypnotising a rabbit amused me. Anyone can do that if the rabbit will stay still long enough. The rabbit is not really hypnotised, but it can be put in a trance by stroking it in a certain way. Look it up on Google if you have a rabbit and fancy trying it

Chronologically this next entry should have gone into an earlier chapter. It’s from a letter to my family dated February 7, 1971:

Ugandan coup

There are times when I wonder if working for the BBC is nothing more than being a tiny cog in an enormous slow-turning wheel, but occasionally something happens to make it all worthwhile. I had been assigned to write the main coverage of the coup d’etat in Uganda by Idi Amin [in 1971]. It was a busy yet rewarding task, but the big thrill came near the end of the shift. We began receiving cables reporting that President Obote (now ex-President Obote) had been tuning into our bulletins on the airliner flight deck while returning to Africa from the Commonwealth Conference in Singapore. The BBC was apparently his only reliable source of information about what was happening in the coup. It was quite exciting to think that a world leader involved in a major crisis had been listening so avidly to stories I had written.

From a letter dated April 19, 1973:

Pregnancy update

Last week Rosemary and I went to a parent lecture at Queen Charlotte’s Hospital where she’s to have the next baby. It was interesting, and I came away impressed with the set-up. Assuming it is a straight-forward birth, I will be permitted to witness it.

From a letter written by Rosemary and dated May 3, 1973:

I have exactly six weeks until the estimated day of arrival (June 12). The midwife at the hospital thinks the baby is quite a big one, but then, over here any baby over 7 1/2 lbs is considered sizeable. I don't think I’ll produce a ten-pounder.

Harley update:

Harley is going through a stage of being preoccupied with clocks. We search the daily newspapers and magazines for examples, and have to draw them for him by the score, while he sits by, checking that we fill in all the details. The television often has a clock showing in between shows, so he watches that fairly often. He’s not very talkative, getting by on a ration of words and phrases. Once he starts going to a playgroup (in September I hope) he should progress more in that department. I talk to him about what it will be like when the new baby arrives, but he’s really a little young to take it all in. He certainly doesn’t associate my big tum with a baby.

From a family letter dated May 5, 1973:

Harley now has all his teeth and his temper is much better for it. He’s showing a serious attempt at talking, although he is chiefly interested in drawing and doing other things with his hands. He’s learned how to do up his buckle shoes and to button the straps on his overalls. His interest in clocks has developed into a positive fetish. Every magazine and newspaper has to be scoured and re-scoured for pictures of clocks and he’ll sit for ages watching the test pattern on television in the hope that the clock will come on. Rosemary and I have drawn him hundreds of clocks, but he’s never satisfied. He keeps poking the pencil back in our hands and demanding “more more!”

Whitlam visit:

Australian Prime Minister Gough Whitlam has been and gone. Considering how little real news came out of it [an official state visit to the UK], he made quite an impact with the press, radio and TV coverage. Mrs Whitlam, in particular, was a hit.

I went to Whitlam’s arrival news conference at Heathrow Airport and his farewell news conference at Australia House. Gough was quite impressive as a politician although I didn’t fancy him as a person. I had a long chat with his wife, some of which I recorded, and I liked her a lot. She was charming and an excellent counter-balance to the more abrasive Gough.

From the letter of May 20, 1973:

More baby news:

Well, it shouldn’t be too long before the next little Richardson turns up. Another three weeks should do it. Rosemary is keeping very well and the doctors say the baby’s head is engaged. Rosemary is hoping this birth will be a little quicker than the last one.

Harley is keeping well and seems to have entered a very agreeable stage. It will be interesting to see his reaction when the new baby is brought home. Under the new hospital regulations, Harley will be able to accompany me to see Rosemary and the new baby in the ward, so this could help him adjust to the fact. We tell him often enough about it, but it’s hard to know if it’s sunk in. At the moment, his chief interest continues to be clocks of all shapes and sizes. Mrs Comber and her daughter Helen (Bendigo guests who’re staying with us) bought him a toy clock face with removable numbers on it. He’s had many hours of joy placing the numbers in their correct positions, and it’s proved to be extremely educational. It has taught him the names of each of the digits. He’s also showing signs of talking – a few basic phrases such as “down there” or “up there” (depending on whether he wishes to be picked up or put down) “I want that" (the most commonly used phrase!) and “I want to go there”.

Showbiz:

Last week we went to see “Last Tango in Paris”. It’s quite a good film. Pretty startling at times, but not pornographic. In fact, it’s a very moral film, the message being that human relationships cannot exist merely on lust. The day after, we saw the London production of “Showboat” as the guests of the management. The purpose was to see the Australian leading lady Wilma Reading, (ex-Bandstand) in action. I interviewed her after the show for TV Week.

Here’s an earlier “Bruce Conway” interview I did with Wilma in June 1972. Don’t blame me for the headline. I didn’t write it, and the opening paragraph was probably edited in Melbourne:

From a letter dated June 1, 1973:

Journalism:

This morning I was out at Heathrow Airport fairly early to meet [the Victorian State] Premier Hamer on his arrival. I was astounded to discover that I was the only journalist there. Consequently I scooped the opposition (who were all waiting at Hamer’s hotel in London) by several hours. As an extra bonus, I flogged my interview to the Guardian, the Times, the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail. Quite a profitable outing. It’s the first time I’ve met Hamer. He seemed quite a reasonable chap. I certainly found him much more comfortable to deal with than Whitlam who is, of course, a totally different, and more imposing, sort of personality.

Still on the subject of news, I finally decided to seek formal approval from the BBC for my Radio 3DB work. This I was given, but the corporation says it might have to ask me to use a nom de plume because of any embarrassment that might be caused if I do reports or interviews (using my real name) for BBC programs that are beamed to Australia.

Shopping news:

We had an amusing incident with Harley earlier this week. We all went shopping for a pair of trousers for me. Harley took a great interest in me trying on the various trousers we thought might be suitable, then he decided to get into the act. We discovered him in another corner of the store with his shoes off and his trousers and underpants down around his ankles. At the same time he was trying to drag a pair of trendy bell-bottoms off the rack presumably to try on.

From a letter of June 9, 1973:

Baby News:

Rosemary is still hanging on. She’s due next Tuesday, so by the time you receive this letter, you may well have received more up-to-date news. She’s being given regular check-ups by the hospital, and if she hasn’t had the baby by next Thursday (the date set for her next visit) the doctors may bring the birth on. There is no medical urgency about the matter, but the hospital is experimenting with the arranging of births at times more convenient to them. The idea is that once a baby has reached antenatal maturity, it should be born at a time when the hospital’s facilities are best able to cope with any emergency that might arise.

Next chapter: the arrival of another Richardson.

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Earlier chapters can be found HERE