Pagans Unite for a Day in the Sun

Carol Hollfelder rides in a wheelchair, not on a broomstick. When she wants speed, she climbs into a Ferrari and chases other cars around a racetrack. When she wants spiritual fulfillment, she prays to Father Sky and Mother Earth.

Hollfelder, 31, is a witch. But she’s not the evil, black magic, Satan-worshiping practitioner many people associate with the term, she said Saturday during a ritualistic gathering of pagans at the Lincoln Memorial.

Instead, Hollfelder follows ancient, Earth-centered teachings that find divinity in trees, rocks, birds, animals and people--and solace in the universe’s positive forces. “Witchcraft is a religion,” said Hollfelder, an office worker from California who broke her back in a motorcycle accident 12 years ago. “It’s not so much about spellcraft.”

Pagans Bring Message to Nation’s Capital

Hollfelder, who uses the Arachne as a practicing witch, joined about 200 other pagans here on Halloween weekend to share that message with tourists and lawmakers alike.

“We are publicly displaying our rituals to show society who we are and what we really do,” said Helen Roper, 44, a single mother of six and president of the Blessed Be Pagan Unity Inc., based in suburban Gaithersburg, Md., which organized the two-day event. “We want people to say, ‘I met the witches and they are not what people think they are.’ ”

On Friday night, the pagans gathered for a drumming ritual under a moonlit sky at the Jefferson Memorial. They chanted, danced and sang in honor of their ancestors. Then they observed three minutes of silence “to heal the Mother Earth.”

On Saturday, they met at the Lincoln Memorial, trying to gain attention amid the hundreds of tourists walking up and down the monument’s steps. The strategy drew few onlookers, in part because the announced 10 a.m. start was delayed an hour by what one organizer called “Pagan Standard Time.”

But the daylong series of spiritual practices finally got underway: a Wiccan ritual for Samhain, the ancient Celtic name for Oct. 31; Tambor to Oguan, a Santeria service honoring Orisha, god of the forests and hard work; and the lively Radical Faeries ritual, performed by a gay men’s group.

Many pagans--or Wiccans or Druids, as some prefer to be called--had remained at their central gathering place, the Days Inn Gateway Hotel.

Some slept in after staying up until 3 a.m. Some went to workshops on Tarot, candle-making, ethics, teen witchcraft, raising pagan children and ritual design.

Misconceptions About Wiccans

The biggest misconception is that Wiccans are connected to Satanism and witches are devil worshipers, said Pombagira, 38, a Washington freelance writer who asked to be called by her pagan name. “Most pagans are not devil worshipers. The devil is a Christian idea. It’s not one of ours. We don’t know about that guy. He has nothing to do with our reality.”

She noted that some pagans chose not to appear publicly in the daytime, fearing exposure might bring reprisals at their jobs or schools. But several others said one purpose for such gatherings is to give them the courage to “come out of the broom closet.”

“That time is past,” said Jim Higginbotham, 40, a member of Blessed Be’s organizing board and an aerospace engineer from St. Louis who works on Boeing F/A-18 fighter planes.

Many pagans are professionals--attorneys, accountants, doctors--or homemakers who practice one of many strands of “Earth-centered traditions,” Higginbotham said.

A 1996 poll taken at conventions and festivals shows more than 300,000 pagans in the United States, he said, noting, “It’s time to step out into the daylight and tell the public about who they are.”