03 - Doorknob (1/2)
Although the phenomenon observed in this incident can be classified as being a non-standard example of PK, it is probably best described as an example of MMI, or mind/matter interaction. It took place in Las Vegas on Wednesday, July 17th, 2007. I know this because I emailed a friend with the details shortly after the incident, and I've been able to reread that email to get the date and other details.
At the time I was living in southern California, earning an income as a professional gambler. I played video gambling machines in the local tribal casinos for very large progressive jackpots (compared to relatively miniscule ones in Las Vegas).
It happened that a long-time friend of mine, J, died of liver cancer in a Toronto hospital, and some family members and a best friend were flying in from Britain and Shanghai to help his sister clean out his apartment in Las Vegas. Most of them were to assemble in Toronto, then fly together down to Las Vegas. I was informed of the death in late June, and resolved to drive back to Las Vegas to help out. I suffered from pretty severe chronic fatigue, and wasn't looking forward to the trip, but it was something I had to do to honor my departed friend. What lightened the burden a bit was that I already knew my friend's older brother and his best friend. I got along well with both of them, and looked forward to seeing them again.
I arrived on July 13, and went right to work sorting through my departed friend's belongings, alongside his family members and friend. I was also able to show up for the next three days before exhaustion forced me to take a couple of days off to rest.
I stayed with my stepfather in my parents' house, sleeping in my bedroom there. At about 11 AM on the morning in question, I woke up for the third and final time. I really hadn't slept much during the last 45 minutes, yet I felt totally brain dead as I stumbled toward the door in the dark room, on my way to the bathroom for the third time. I wasn't looking forward to the new day, even though my plan had been to stay home and rest.
As I opened the bedroom door, it swung inward about a foot before the doorknob suddenly detached itself from the door! I stood there, momentarily dumbfounded as I held the knob in my hand. Then I swore to myself because I thought the long mounting screws that held the doorknob in place must have corroded away. Or worse, perhaps the holes in the knob's round trim (also called "rosette") had corroded to the point where they were too large for the screw heads to hold them. As exhausted as I was, I would have to go to Walmart or Home Depot to get some screws or try to find another doorknob set that matched the now useless one in my hand. I wasn't at all happy at the prospect, because I was looking forward to a full day's rest.
I set the doorknob on a small bookcase near the bedroom's entrance and went out to the bathroom. Then I got myself a Diet Coke from the refrigerator and went outside to smoke and read the newspaper. I didn't think about the doorknob until about an hour later when I casually told E (my stepfather) what had happened. I then spent some time on his computer, going outside every so often to smoke. Another hour might have passed when he told me he'd looked at my bedroom door and didn't see the problem I spoke about. He mistakenly thought I'd said the hole in the door that accommodated the doorknob assembly had somehow enlarged itself so that I'd pulled the whole knob assembly through the door as I opened it. He saw the outside doorknob was still in place and was therefore confused.
Some time after this conversation I retrieved both halves of the doorknob assembly and laid them on the kitchen table, where E and I could inspect them under the bright kitchen light. I recall pointing out to him that there was a bit of dirt in the drive slots of one of the mounting screws attached to the outside knob. (I'd looked at the screw heads while carrying the doorknobs down the hall.) I should also add that it had occurred to me earlier, while sitting outside, that the doorknob, and probably the screws, were made of brass (or plated with it), and brass doesn't corrode.
It turned out the black screw heads were in great condition. No sign at all of corrosion on the heads. In addition, and most importantly, there was no recent sign of the kind of shiny marks that a screwdriver often makes when it's used on a screw. The screws were in pristine condition, lacking any evidence of having been touched since the house was built some 40 years earlier. It was the same for the two screw holes in the knob's circular trim. They looked perfectly round.
It suddenly dawned on me that something anomalous might have occurred, so with mounting excitement, I removed the screws from the outside doorknob, then put them through the holes in the trim of the inside knob to see if they'd fall through. They didn't. I pulled on them to see if I could get the screw heads through the holes. Nothing doing. I rotated them every which way and tugged hard on them to pull the heads through the holes. My efforts were all in vain. The screw heads were simply too large to pass through the holes, as you'd expect with undamaged screws and trim holes. Next I handed the screws and the inside doorknob to E so he could try to force the screw heads through the holes. He failed the task just as I had done.
It took a few hours for the realization to sink in fully that either the screw heads momentarily dematerialized as I opened the door, or the material around the holes in the trim momentarily dematerialized, or both.
Note: To those for whom my description of this anomalous event is unclear, let me illustrate with an example of a simple wall hook:
Imagine buying a wall hook like the one pictured above, and fastening it to the wall securely with the two custom fitting screws also provided in the package. Now imagine getting many years of dependable service from the wall hook, only to hang your jacket from the hook one day, and watch it and the hook drop to the floor. Upon inspection, you see that the screws are still set firmly in the wall, yet they somehow failed to hold onto the hook! You look them over and see no signs of corrosion, nor are there any signs on the holes inside the hook, which now lies on the floor. "How did
that happen?", you ask yourself.
This was the riddle confronting me as I observed the pristine screw heads and trim holes in the doorknob assembly.