Below, Dr. Hofmann paces the floor of his Zurich scientific research center. Since his ergot experiments, the troubling dreams that came persisted with increasing frequency.
In bed with his wife, every night ‘round 3:00 a.m. he’d come awake, while at the same time unconscious in a dreamlike state. He’d raise himself from bed, add boots for shoes, and walk behind the well in the yard at the back of the house. Always stepping in the same batch of mud by the stone fountain where the granite Phoenix bird rises from the ashes in mystical brilliance, a deep otherworldly voice calls Albert Hofmann.
Back to the lab, Albert. Get back to the lab again. Clinical LSD-25 is not done.
Dr. Hofmann was never quite sure where it came from, this inner voice that compelled him. This he sometimes pondered during the course of his later days. Who knows? It just might have been Timothy Leary’s Messiah talking.
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