Doc von Peters Asks for Boosting

      4 Comments on Doc von Peters Asks for Boosting

Two of my personal friends sent hair samples to the Doc, recently, and then ordered the products for their treatments but the boxes, in each case, had been intercepted and sabotaged by a sewer rat agency.  They both live in California and one of them is Andy of; the other has recently committed to orgonite field work in San Francisco and will soon be posting reports, here.

Since they’re both personal friends of mine I assume that the feds are simply being obtuse in an attempt to intimidate them.

I’ve assured the Doc, who treats people literally all over the world and teaches in medical schools in Russia, China, Turkey and Greece, that this is probably not directed at him but he asked us to run some interference for him, as we needed to do many years ago when the feds were trying hard to put him out of business.  So please send him and the agency fools who molested those packages some heart boosts, okay?

He’s been selling our zappers since the 90s and has saved our and several of our associates lives after we were poisoned by the FBI and other criminal gov’t syndicates with metal salts.  Zappers eliminate infectious illnesses reliably but the new endemic of systemic illnesses, often caused by repeated exposure to bioweaponry (before one gets a zapper) need other solutions and the Doc specializes in curing these incurables after the med/pharma cartel operatives (MDs) have given up on them.  His physician website is and his product site is


4 thoughts on “Doc von Peters Asks for Boosting

  1. Janet

    I’m one of Dons friends that was sabotaged , my gifting seems to have annoyed someone or two. I have worked at a school many years that has attracted so many hurtful backwards people that one just knows something is very wrong. I have felt attacked for years and through search and prayer have found this site and the answer of orgone to help these destructive forces trying to hurt people. There’s especially protection for little children , God defends them foremost . The defender of the little ones. I’ll post what occurs as this unfolds.

    1. Don Croft Post author

      Welcome, Janet! You might have kicked a CIA hornet nest by distributing orgonite around that school. Your present position reminds me a bit if when I worked in a sugar mill in Louisiana in my youth. I hope you don’t mind if I tell the story but I think you can relate to it. You and I have had some fun discussing the nature of the man-made evil in this world, after all.

      I was the only white laborer and they gave me the worst job in the place. As much as I hate physical toil I felt inspired to remain there because I was targeted with voodoo and I found it to be curiously invigorating ;-). Gov. Huey Long’s Depression Era skyscraper, across the Mississippi River, could be seen over the cane fields and that added to the voodoo mystique, haha.

      The intensity of the ‘opposition’ built up over several weeks until there was a sudden, massive storm that darkened the land and everyone simply fled. I was alone with the young man who was the locus of the apparently coordinated etheric assault (and whom everyone else feared–he hung around but didn’t work there) and he lurked behind me (just within my peripheral vision) with his shirt off, holding a machete as I sat reading a book. I think he was waiting for me to show fear but that didn’t happen and I was content to die, if it filled some Divine purpose.

      After awhile, he simply left–then the sky suddenly cleared up and everyone returned. I sort of wonder where they all had gone because the mill was several miles from the nearest town. Even the mill owner and the Cuban engineers were rather terrified. Maybe Southern Louisiana is the only place in North America where many europoids believe in magic. I’m sure our Ed in Mississippi knows what I mean; he’s a proud cajun from S. LA.

      The friendly mill owner had invited me to work for him when we met on the river. I had built a little sailboat after I got out of the army in 1970 and had sailed from St Louis, a thousand river miles upstream. I took the job because the bow wave of a passing ocean ship had pushed the boat up onto a rock revetment during the following night, wrecking it. I’ll never forget how I felt as I clung to the mast on the disintegrating craft. It was a little bit like my plane crash, ten years ago, only slower.

      For the first time, everyone was then openly friendly toward me after the weird storm. The next day, the young man who had wanted to murder me was introduced to me and his demeanor had softened. I shook his hand as a friend but after that, the job was just burdensome and no longer interesting. One of my co-workers kindly helped me find an apartment in Scotlandville (also introduced me to his pretty daughter but I always felt that ‘there’s no romance without finance,’ so I didn’t pursue a relationship), which is the black suburb of Baton Rouge, also a fun job in the kitchen at the Baton Rouge Air Terminal. I made a lot of gumbo in those days 8-). I was also befriended in those days by several Persian students in Baton Rouge, who often visited me in Scotlandville.


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