From the book Color Me Healthy by William Campbell Douglass, MD. You may obtain a copy of this book complete with a set of color filters direct from the author at Second Opinion Publishing, Inc., Post Office Box 467939, Atlanta, Georgia 31146-7939 Phone 800-728-2288 or 770-399-5617. While the book does not discuss cancer, you may find it useful for other ailments. We include this material on color therapy because it is illustrative of the tactics used against alternative health practitioners throughout the United States throughout the twentieth century.
Where It All Began
Dinshah Ghadiali, a young Indian physician fresh out of training, was awakened in the middle of the night by a loud pounding on his door. A young barefoot boy had been sent by his mistress, a prominent lady of the city, to fetch him. The boy, wide-eyed and breathless, said his mistress was surely dying and Dinshah must come at once. He dressed, got on his bicycle and dashed through the heavy tropical night.
The woman had severe "colitis," probably cholera, and could hardly speak. "Dinshah," she whispered, "please save me; I am about to die." She had been to the best professors of the city, as befitted a woman of her station, even though she knew of Dinshah's reputation as a remarkable young healer. A number of toxic medications, including mercury (this was 1897) sat on the bedside table. She was having 50 bowel movements a day, undoubtedly made worse by the nostrums provided by Dinshah's learned professional betters. It was clear that she would die if something dramatic and unorthodox wasn't done, and done soon, he thought.
In this dimly lit room, with a prominent patient dying before him, Dinshah was seized with a sense of panic and helplessness. If he gathered the courage to do what he knew needed to be done - take her off the killing drugs and try a different, unorthodox approach - he would be blamed for her death. Dinshah had an unfortunate combination of qualities for any doctor who wants to practice medicine and "get along," but, at the same time, do what he thinks is right for his patients: he was stubborn, honorable, and courageous. He did what he felt had to be done.
As the wide-eyed servant boy watched, Dinshah swept all the medicine bottles into the bedside wastebasket. He ordered his patient to take nothing but water and dashed for the door, saying he would be back with a remedy to cure her, knowing in his heart and saying to himself: "I am a miserable charlatan - only divine intervention can save this woman."
Dinshah walked briskly through the dark early morning air. There was a dim promise of sunlight causing ghostly silhouettes on the trees to the East. He ploughed through his memories, his list of ancient Indian lore and his medical catechism. He prayed to his Indian gods, seeking a direction. The name of Dr. Edwin D. Babbitt dropped into his mind. "Color!" he thought. The healing power of color!
Dr. Babbitt had written a treatise on the use of colors, externally applied, in the treatment of disease in 1876. The work, entitled The Principles of Light and Color, had always held a fascination for Dinshah. It had been tucked away in the recesses of his mind for future consideration. The future was now - and it would change the course of his life. He would never turn back.
Dinshah ran to the market and purchased a kerosene oil hurricane lantern; it was similar to what the Highway Department uses on construction sights to keep drunk motorists from killing the workers. He then rigged the lantern with the proper colored pickle bottles to act as the slides.
The young doctor, with sweat running from his face and breathing intensely, turned the lamp on at it's highest intensity to get the maximum of the deep Violet-Blue light to bathe the bare abdomen of his barely breathing patient. He rubbed her limbs, talked softly to her and, with a feeling of shame, told her that the worst would soon be over and she would be well again.
With the application of the light, her pain subsided almost instantly. Dinshah assumed it was because she was dying and had been released from further pain. He felt a flood of guilt as she turned her face to him and said: "Thank you for saving my life, Dinshah." But the woman knew from her internal bodily messages something that Dinshah did not know: She was not dying, but returning to life.
By late morning, Dinshah could see the improvement that his patient had already felt, hours before. Encouraged, he took a bottle of the same Indigo color from her kitchen, filled it with milk and placed it in the sun to absorb the magical energy that he was now convinced saved his patient's life. He fed this to his patient and her improvement accelerated.
Within 24 hours, Dinshah was astounded to see his patient sit up and demand food. By noon of that remarkable day, she was out of bed and taking a bath. He made a return visit the next day to be greeted by a radiant and admiring patient who was eager to tell the world about the amazing medical cure her young genius had devised. He made her promise not to tell anyone what he had done as he would be branded a quack and driven out of the "medical priesthood," as he called it.
This was the beginning of a 23-year quest for the healing power of light, culminating in a 1000-page book covering his research on the remarkable ability of various colors of light, externally applied, to heal an almost infinite variety of diseases.
Dinshah - "King of Duty"
Ghadiali spoke 18 languages and was naturalized an American citizen in 1917. He invented a flickerless motion Picture machine, which may have been the first of its kind. He was appointed by the governor of New York as a colonel in the New York Police Air Service and flew the first police mail between New York and Philadelphia. For his meritorious service to the city of New York, he was awarded the Liberty Medal in 1919 by Mayor John Hylan.
But Dr. Ghadiali's attention was always drawn back to the light color therapy of his younger years in India. America, being the land of the free and not mired in a thousand years of conformity like India, was the perfect place, he thought, to continue his research on what he had come to call Spectro-Chrome. He formed the Spectro-Chrome Institute in New York and thus began a bitter struggle with the same dark forces that infect the medical faculty of every country in the world: an inexplicable desire to humiliate and destroy any innovative therapy that does not come from the halls of "acidemia." Any means, foul or fair, were used to destroy the miscreant, no matter what his qualifications or his reputation. He suffered more persecution in America than he ever would have in British colonial India.
He had to defend himself against law suits in Oregon, Ohio, Buffalo, Delaware, Washington D.C., Brooklyn, and twice in New Jersey. These suits were instituted by the states and the federal government, not by patients. He had spread knowledge of color therapy across the nation to natural healers and had to be stopped as an example to others who might step out of line.
In the Buffalo case, he was accused of "grand larceny" by the medical profession, backed by the state, because "Spectro-chrome could not possibly have any effect on disease." With lay and some professional witnesses testifying for him, he won the case. But when fighting a relentless enemy like established government, winning a case and establishing a "precedent" means nothing. His enemies had unlimited funds and kept after him relentlessly.
In Camden, New Jersey, they attempted to have him deported to India even though he had been a U.S. citizen for 17 years and was a decorated colonel and former commander of the New York Police Air Service. He avoided deportation after proving that he "was of the white race and therefore should not be deported"!
He lost all of the other cases, resulting in fines as high as $20,000 - the equivalent of a few hundred thousand dollars today - and served a total of 18 months in various American prisons. All this because he wanted doctors to try the simple expedient of treating patients with external, colored-light therapy. His wife couldn't take the resulting deprivation and mental strain, deserted him and returned to India.
In 1941, his institute was hit with a "mail fraud order" by the U.S. Post Office. This ordered all postmasters across the country, with no hearing for the Spectro-Chrome Institute, to return to the sender all mail addressed to the "offender" stamped with the notation: "Fraudulent, Mail to this address returned by order of the Postmaster General."
A mysterious and devastating fire in 1945 destroyed the main building of the Institute, causing the loss of all of his scientific apparatus, other inventions, his library, medical case histories, and office equipment. The loss of the case histories seriously handicapped him in his defense in the Brooklyn lawsuit, which, conveniently for the government and the medical profession, came to trial only three months after the fire.
In 1947, a suit initiated by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) resulted in a fine of $20,000, an order to dissolve the cursed Institute, and ordered him to dissociate himself from "any form of promotion of Spectro-Chrome." In a good old-fashioned bookburning, he was ordered to surrender for destruction $250,000 worth of books related to Spectro-Chrome. Like a common criminal, he was given "probation" which, if disobeyed, would put him back in jail.
Undaunted, in 1953, with the end of his probation, he organized another color therapy organization, the "Visible Spectrum Research Institute." This time the FDA, tired of fighting this pesky quack, obtained a permanent injunction through a federal judge, and finished him for good. Thirty-five years later, and 30 years after Dinshah's death at the age of 92, the injunction still stands.
Dinshah means King of Duty - and certainly Ghadiali lived up to his given name. Although the medical profession and the government managed to squash this great man like a bug under a boot, they can't stop you and me from using the simple techniques he recommended, unless they can figure out how to outlaw all flashlights and color filters.
The following chapters in the book Color Me Healthy by William Campbell Douglass, MD describe color therapy in detail and give instructions on how to do it at home. The book comes complete with a set of color filters.
You may obtain a copy of this book complete with a set of color filters direct from the author at Second Opinion Publishing, Inc., Post Office Box 467939, Atlanta, Georgia 31146-7939 Phone 800-728-2288 or 770-399-5617.