The Hopi Turned
Their Backs On The Pahana
By James Donahue
In June, 1997, while working as a news reporter in Arizona, my wife and I were witnesses to a tragedy
of such magnitude, I have difficulty writing about it in this column.
We had the privilege of bringing a man to the Hopi Reservation whom we are convinced was the Pahana,
a long-awaited white brother possessing important information for the people. The Hopi leadership will deny this story but
I know it to be true. The tragedy is that Pahana visited the reservation on three occasions and each time he was turned away.
A major Hopi prophecy concerning the end times involves two brothers who became separated. The red skinned brother remained at the Four Corners, while
the white brother traveled east, toward the rising sun. The white brother, or "Pahana," was given a mission to someday
return to help his younger brother bring about Purification, or a form of apocalypse, at which time the world's evildoers
would be destroyed and real peace and brotherhood would be established everywhere.
When he arrived, Pahana was to be identified because he would have the ability to write the ancient
language, would produce a broken half of the Tiponi, or sacred clay tablet, and once
the two parts were joined, would interpret its important message to the Hopi people. Because the Hopi only possess half of
the tablet it has been impossible for them to know the full text of its message.
I believe the Pahana to be our son, Aaron C. Donahue, a powerful psychic and a remote viewer. It
was during his training that Donahue examined the Hopi prophecy and discovered that the missing piece of the lost clay tablet
was buried with the remains of a dead elder on the reservation.
When he arrived at the reservation, Aaron not only knew where this piece of clay tablet was, he
already knew the important message it contained. He was anxious to present it to the Hopi people. He also believes that remote
viewing, which involves right brain functioning, is a form of ancient communication.
While he trained in California,
Aaron came to the school from the eastern part of the United States, so even though he lived for a time in California, he
originally arrived from the east.
The first time Donahue visited he entered the vicinity of the First Mesa in
the early spring of 1996. He was traveling with a friend and they were lost. When he stopped at a rural home to ask his way,
a man brandishing a shotgun greeted him at the door. Instead of receiving a friendly welcome, Aaron was ordered off the reservation,
probably because of the color of his skin.
He was upset by this event and spent that night sitting on the top of a nearby mesa, in meditation.
At one point in the night, out of anger, he said he picked up a clay pot, raised it high over his head and smashed it to pieces.
Donahue did not know it at the time, but the breaking of that pot was part of a Hopi prophecy: "When
the white brother returns, he will see if we have adhered to the way of life and have been faithful to the religious beliefs.
If we have not, then he will strike an earthen pot. And the elders will say, 'No, that is too harsh.'"
It was in the spring of 1997, about one year later, when my wife and I drove Aaron to the reservation
for a second visit. We came at the invitation of a tribal priest, whom I believe understood Aaron's true identity. The priest
asked us to attend a ritualistic dance in Hotevilla, on the Third Mesa. It was a hot, dusty summer day. There were a lot of
visitors also attending the dance, and we had to park our car at the edge of the village and walk a long way. Once there,
we were invited to climb a ladder to the flat roof of one of the houses. From there we had a clear view of the dancers in
the town's square. As we stood watching the Kachina dancers one of the men in the group suddenly stopped dancing. He stood
still amid the other dancers, staring directly at us. And he removed his mask.
The prophecy is written that "the end of all Hopi ceremonialism will come when a kachina removes his mask during
a dance in the plaza before uninitiated children (the general public)." He is described as a Saquasohuh, or Blue Star kachina.
After this will be the beginning of World War III, when Hopi prophecy says the United States will be destroyed by nuclear
bombing. The war is to be started by India, China, the Islamic Nations, and Africa.
Pahana's final visit was at Kykotsmovr, on the Second Mesa, also during a ritual dance. This time
he was offended because the dance involved food offerings. Instead of placing food from their gardens in the center of the
plaza, the dancers were bringing prepared foods, including meat, from white man's grocery stores. We could smell meat cooking
on electric ranges in the houses around us and knew that the people were not living in the ways their grandfathers taught
Nobody invited us to the roofs this time. Instead, we found seats located around the outside rim
of the open square. Aaron remained apart from the others, choosing to sit on a large rock in one corner of the square.
People glared at him. He is such a sensitive psychic he can read thoughts, and knew that he
was not welcome. After a while, a white woman, obviously a tourist who came to watch the dancers, rudely ordered Aaron to
leave the rock. She claimed it as her seat and demanded that he give it back. Donahue chose that moment to leave Kykotsmovr.
On his way out of the village, he stood on the edge of the mesa and performed a ritual. As a row of Hopi faces watched from
the roof tops overhead, he kicked his foot high in the air, sending energy far off into the universe.
He later explained that the ritual summoned Huktutu, "the red one," to bring judgment. This had
been the Hopi people's final chance, and they turned their backs on him. Aaron said they judged him because of the color of
Hopi prophecy says: "he finally will just go to the edge of the village and kick an old shoe aside.
That will be the sign of our punishment . . ."
I was working for a newspaper in Show Low, in Arizona's White
Mountains, at the time. That week I wrote and filed a news story in which I said the Hopi rejected the Pahana, and that that
Huktutu has consequently been released.
I didn't expect the story to see the light of day. But for some strange reason . . . perhaps it
was the magic surrounding Aaron, my editor liked the story so much he featured it on the top of the front page. The story
caused quite a stir.
About a week later I received a call from an irate member of the Hopi Tribal Council. This woman
was angry because of what she viewed as "bad publicity" that she feared would cut into tourism revenues received by the tribe.
She demanded a correction.
I told her that her attitude was the very reason the Pahana turned his back on the reservation.
That the people were no longer following the traditional ways taught them by their elders.
"How can you prove that man was the Pahana?" she demanded.
"How can you prove he was not?" I said.
I explained that he met all of the requirements of the Pahana. He knew the location of the missing
half of the sacred clay tablet, he knew its message, and he was prepared to lead the people through the looming Purification
and into what they describe as the Fifth World.
I did not tell her this: The secret of the two brothers and the message on the clay tablet was something
that only Aaron knew and understood. It was a story of the joining together of the left and right hemispheres of our brains,
and then learning to use the whole brain again for the first time after a forced shutdown that lasted thousands of years.
It was the discovery of our true identities. It was the reclaiming of our third-dimensional world from alien invaders.
The woman insisted that I did not know what I was talking about. She insisted that this man could
not be the Pahana.
"Suppose you are right," I said. "Suppose this man was not the true Pahana. Suppose the real Pahana
is going to arrive on the reservation next week. Will you accept him any differently than you did this man?"
She could not answer this.