Then one day I learned that Gigli was to give a Carnegie Hall concert and I took an advertisement covering the entire back page of the program. It read, “Why Gigli Never Misses a Performance,” and then went on to summarize what I did to keep him fit. When Gigli saw the program, he became angrier than I had ever seen him. Although he had a well-known temper, his anger and moods never had lasted very long. This time, however, he raved and stormed—but worst of all, he caught a severe cold. Anger had set up a chemical condition that created the acids that made him vulnerable—and now he was sick. It was two days before the concert and he threatened to cancel it.
“What a fool you will look before the whole world—you and your ad,” he taunted.
I never worked so hard in my entire life as I did in the next two days, but I did get him well in time to save two reputations.
Types of Treatments Cayce Recommended
osteopathy
chiropractic
exercise
conventional medicine
sophisticated diets
all forms of hydrotherapy
electrotherapy
surgery
herbs
oils
lights
colors
energy appliances
As men and women continued coming in with Cayce readings or directions, I became more and more interested in the source. How did he get my name? How did he know the type of treatments that we were giving and had the facilities to give? —H.J.R.
For example, a whole section dealt with Mrs. [5439]’s anxieties and fears about her husband’s business. She had been working with him in what, I later learned, was a very successful business, but she was semiretired and was feeling guilty because the business had developed some difficulties. Another portion of the reading dealt with her frustrated desires to write creatively, particularly for the theater. All these tensions, fears, and emotions, Cayce indicated, were largely responsible for her physical disorders. Back in 1930, psychosomatics was a novel idea. Only a few pioneering doctors connected the emotional, mental, and spiritual conditions of their patients with their state of health or dis-ease, which Cayce interpreted literally to mean just that: lack of, or disturbance of, ease.
I had arrived at the same conclusion myself. As a young man, I taught jujitsu and boxing for the army, serving both on the Mexican border with the 22nd Regiment and later in World War I. I trained soldiers and did special physical conditioning to turn them into commandos. An athlete myself, I did quite a bit of boxing and learned early what it meant to get a “fighting edge,” and what effect a man’s emotions and fears had on his physical condition and performance.
In the months following Mrs. [5439]’s successful treatment I received a number of other referrals from Edgar Cayce, but it was to be two years before we met face to face. Sometimes the patients arrived with the readings, sometimes with slips of paper indicating the kind of therapy to be given. Sometimes the directions were very precise, even to specifying the kind of oil or combination of oils to be used for a massage, and the precise proportion. Sometimes there were no specific directions, leaving the entire modality of treatment—or application of the therapeutic agent—to my judgment.
I have said through the years, in many of the speeches that I have given to medical and lay groups, that every type of healing has cured someone, although no type has cured everyone. My training and experience have been eclectic and I have an open mind. But never have I encountered elsewhere or seen duplicated the wide range of therapies Cayce recommended. They included osteopathy, chiropractic, exercise, conventional medicine, the most sophisticated nutrition and diet, every known form of hydrotherapy, electrotherapy, and even surgery; and he used a bewildering variety of herbs, oils, lights, colors, and original appliances that he had invented.
Where did he get his knowledge of the value of so many different therapies for different individuals—for no two were ever alike? This was uncanny, for with all my knowledge and experience, I found it practically impossible to improve on his suggestions. I also found it hard to understand how a man could go to sleep and give as good or better advice than I was able to give in my waking state.
As men and women continued coming in with Cayce readings or directions, I became more and more interested in the source. How did he get my name? How did he know the type of treatments that we were giving and had the facilities to give? My curiosity continued as, without either of us planning it consciously, a two-way traffic was growing between the Reilly Physicians’ Service and Edgar Cayce at Virginia Beach.
One of my favorite patients was Clara Belle Walsh. A tall blonde of Wagnerian proportions and nearly six feet tall, Clara Belle was the heiress of a great old Kentucky family and was internationally famous as a hostess, a theater and music patron, and an intimate personal friend of England’s Queen Mary.
She sponsored many great performers and artists, and I particularly remember meeting Vincent Lopez, then unknown, in her suite at the Plaza Hotel, where she held court when in New York. One day she casually informed us in a matter-of-fact voice that Lopez was the reincarnation of (according to a Cayce life reading) Leonardo da Vinci. Leonardo had been left-handed, which is why Vincent Lopez always conducted with his left hand.
Mrs. Walsh had one painful physical complaint. Her legs were elegantly slim, but the left knee was arthritic and had a spur. Occasionally the knee would hook up on the spur and cause swelling and excruciating pain. When this would happen, she would send for me, I would hasten to the Plaza Hotel, apply packs to reduce the swelling, and work to unlock the knee from the spur. This gave her immediate relief. Once I was out of town when her knee became hooked up for four or five days and developed a terrible inflammation. She had called in the doctor from the Plaza Hotel and he gave her drugs—but not even the strongest narcotic had any effect on her. She was in excruciating pain. When the Plaza’s doctor called in a specialist, he suggested opening the knee or, if necessary, amputating the leg at the knee.
When I came back to town, I found a sheaf of urgent messages from Clara Belle. I hurried to the Plaza and was told by the nurse that my patient was unconscious, under anesthesia, which they had given her while they tried manipulation. The nurse wouldn’t let me enter her room. I explained that I was quite familiar with Mrs. Walsh’s condition and had treated her many times in the past. During this time the anesthesia wore off and she began screaming with pain. As soon as she heard my voice, she demanded that I come to her. I treated her with packs, since manipulation at that point was impossible, and after I brought the inflammation down, I was able to give her relief. I had to see her three times a day for the next three days.
After this bout, Clara Belle was worried and a bit frightened, and she wrote to Edgar Cayce, hoping to find a more permanent cure: “I have seen doctors, some who wanted to operate and others who suggested serum treatment. So far H. J. Reilly of the Reilly Physicians’ Service has helped me more than any other doctor. I believe you know him as you have sent several people to him.”
But I didn’t know him—Edgar Cayce and I still had not met. Mrs. Walsh brought me her reading from Cayce, and the treatment he had recommended coincided with that which she was already receiving. This continuing evidence of our agreement on philosophy and therapy increased my desire and determination to meet this psychic genius from Virginia Beach, but life was crowded and time was scarce, and I had to wait longer for the great moment to happen.
My curiosity about Cayce might have been satisfied much earlier if I had known that two patrons of the Reilly Health Service, Mr. and Mrs. David Kahn, had been