I think itβs time we elaborated a little on our theory about St. Clair (Doc) Switzer and famed MKULTRA researcher Louis Jolyon (Jolly) West. For a while now, Iβve been frantically waving a document in everyoneβs faces from January 1953, and using it as evidence that the two men must have known each other and even worked together in some capacity.
Soβ¦THEN what, right?
Right. This blog post is all about what happened to Doc and Jolly AFTER the January 14th memo. Admittedly, it mostly has to do with Jolly, but, based on events that came to pass in his career, we can deduce how Doc was affected as well.
But first, letβs have a little recap.
Our running theory
In September 1952, the CIA was rounding up experts to conduct research for Project Artichoke. One of the locations at the top of their list was an Air Force BaseβLackland AFB, to be exact, in San Antonio. The reason they were drawn to Lackland was likely two-fold. First, it was where all incoming basic trainees were psychiatrically screened and where βquestionableβ Air Force officer candidates and pre-flight cadets were more fully evaluated psychiatrically. Thatβs a lot of baseline data concerning what was going on inside pretty much every airmanβs head.
Second, the new chief of the Psychiatric Service had arrived at Lackland AFB in July 1952βJolly West. He had just completed his residency at the Payne Whitney Clinic in New York City, which was part of Cornell University Medical College. As it so happens, people in the Payne Whitney Clinic were friends with people in the CIA. Harold G. Wolff, an expert on headache and psychosomatic illness, was one of those people. He would go on to head the Human Ecology Fund, which funded MKULTRA-focused research, and to coauthor a 1956 comprehensive report on communist interrogation and indoctrination methodsβaka brainwashing. Jolly, having developed strong skills in hypnosis while at Payne Whitney, was now in charge of the entire psychiatric division at Lacklandβs 3700th USAF Hospital. If thatβs not a perfect fit for Project Artichoke, I donβt know what is.
At roughly the same time in which the CIA was scrutinizing Jolly West, someone elseβs name had made a little ping on their radar. That person was Miami University psychology professor Doc Switzer, who was brought to their attention by way of a memo written on March 25, 1952. Chief among Docβs selling points were his having worked under noted psychologist and hypnosis expert Clark Hull and for his being a pharmacist before becoming a psychology professor. By September, however, the CIA was having their doubts about someoneβDoc, I believeβand, despite his Artichoke-friendly credentials, they didnβt think he had much to contribute toward the research they desired.
As it turns out, Doc could be useful in a different way. Doc was well-connected in the Air Force, whose surgeon general would have to approve whether Lackland could be a site for CIA-funded Artichoke research. Not only had Doc made a name for himself during WWII, but he was on the rolls of the Air Force Reserves, and, most recently, during the summer of 1951, heβd served in a prestigious post at the Air Research and Development Command (ARDC) in Baltimore.
On September 23, 1952, a CIA rep had spoken with a colonel in the Air Forceβs Office of the Surgeon General, and the colonel had said that the person whom the CIA was uncertain aboutβthe person I believe to be Doc Switzerβwould be βessentialβ to be βcut into the pictureβ because they thought very highly of him. Four months later, on January 14, 1953, Jolly (Iβm 100% sure) and Doc (I strongly believe) are named in a memo with regards to the creation of a βwell-balanced interrogation research center.β

The hot shot and his rival
The winter of 1953 turned into the spring of 1953, with all of its happy trappings:
the flowers were bloomingβ¦
the birds were singingβ¦
the bees were buzzingβ¦
β¦and, on April 13β¦
β¦the director of the CIA was signing a memo establishing MKULTRA, an amped-up version of Project Artichoke.
(Due to a lack of time, weβll forgo discussing how, six days later, a certain student from Miami University who had Doc Switzer for his psychology professor seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. We can discuss that little coinkidink another day.)
Our story picks up two months later, in the summer of 1953, when Jolly West and Sidney Gottlieb, who oversaw the CIAβs MKULTRA program, are discussing the to-be-implemented operation at Lackland AFB. Jolly couldnβt have been more gung-ho. On June 11, a 28-year-old West wrote to a 34-year-old Gottlieb a detailed letter about his short-term and long-term goals with regards to the hypnotizing of human subjectsβa resource he ostensibly had an endless supply ofβas part of his new project for the CIA. Among those readily available subjects were basic airmen, whom he could summon by simply telling the folks in HR to: βSend us 10 high I.Q. airmen at 0900 tomorrow,β he bragged. Other potential subjects would include volunteers who worked on the base, hospital patients, and a miscellaneous category of βothers,β including prisoners in the local stockade and returning POWs.
He had the subjects. He had the know-how. He had the drive. He had the spaceβthough heβd need to purchase some suitable new equipment. He could hire the necessary staff.
But there was a problem, Jolly informed Sidney. The problemβs name was Robert Williams, who, by the way, should not be confused with Robert J. Williams, who oversaw Project Artichoke in the CIAβs Office of Scientific Intelligence before it was reassigned to Inspection and Security. Nope, this guy was Robert L. Williams, who was chief of Neurology at Lackland AFB. Jolly informed Sidney that, after Williams had received his certification by the American Board of Neurology and Psychiatryβwith coaching from Jolly in preparation for the psychiatry portion of the exam, he pointed outβWilliams started eyeing Jollyβs territory. Williams persuaded Colonel Robert S. Brua, commander of Lacklandβs 3700th Medical Group, to combine the two divisions into one and to put Williams on top.
As you can imagine, Jolly was fuming over this power grab. Here was someone Jolly described as being βseveral years my senior professionally although his experience in psychiatry is considerably less than mineβ getting in the way of Jolly doing whatever he wanted. Heβd be a giant roadblock to the hypnosis research the two men were discussing, Jolly contended.
βThis is a most unhappy turn of events from the point of view of our experiments,β he lamented.
βDr. Williams is extremely acquisitive and will be an uncomfortably close scrutinizer of my activities,β he said. βThe fact that I am still Chief of Psychiatry doesnβt alter the fact that it is now merely a section in this new Service, and that many of my administrative and even professional decisions can be hamstrung.β
He later added: βAnd, most unfortunately, he is one of those conservative traditionalists who actively opposes research or treatment involving hypnosis, states that it is βtampering with the soul,β and spoken out against some of my previous work; he will undoubtedly hamper my efforts in many ways.β
Jolly had some suggestions on how to fix this unlivable situation. Going back to the old organizational structure was one possibility. Transferring Williams the heck out of San Antonio to some other base was another one. Or, geez, maybe Jolly should, you knowβ¦leave. That last option wasnβt very realistic though. Because the Air Force had foot the bill for Jollyβs medical training, he was obligated to serve there until June 1956. For him to even entertain the possibility of leaving in July of 1953 was indicative ofβ¦whatβ¦his immaturity? His arrogance? His bullheadedness? Take your pickβI canβt decide.
βThe ultimate solution to the repeated occurrence of this type of situational crisis is, of course, a return to civilian status. If I were back on the staff at Cornell Medical Center where my previous research was done, there would be no problem. I could receive some funds from you disguised as a U.S. Public Health Service grant, or some such thing, gon [sic] onto a half-time research basis, and plub [sic?] away at the problem with considerable independence. This future eventuality weβll have to discuss at a later date; meanwhile, we have the local problem to solve. If someone in the Surgeon Generalβs office, or the Surgeon General himself, were in on this whole complicated situation, it might make the solutions a little easier.β
Um, Iβm sorry, but has this 28-year-old never had a boss before? I mean, sure, itβs a drag that his division got usurped and all, but who among us hasnβt had something like that happen at our jobs without our feeling the need to run to our bossβs bossβs boss in hopes that theyβll fix it? Plus, some might say that Jolly could have used a little more supervision at that time, donβtya think? (Did I mention he was 28?)**
**Dear 28-year-olds: I have nothing against you. If you happen to be in this age group, thatβs fantastic. Itβs a super fun age to be. Itβs just that, occasionally, people in your age bracket have been known to think they have all the answers when in fact they really donβt. (Not you. Other people.)
Listen to the Traveling Wilburys. They’ll tell you what I mean.
Sidney Gottlieb was undeterred by the likes of Robert L. Williams. He asked Jolly for the names and contact information of Lacklandβs top brass, which were Col. Brua, Col. Cowles (who oversaw the Human Resources Research Center), and Brigadier General Steele (who commanded the entire base). Although Sidney wasnβt willing to give these men all the goods on MKULTRA just yet, he would explore obtaining Top Secret clearance for each one, just in case. He also would contact Donald Hastings, a psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota who was to collaborate with Jolly on the project. Hastings had been chief of psychiatry for the Army Air Forces during WWII, so he was much more seasoned in dealing with military brass. If anyone could arm wrestle them into acquiescence, he could probably do it without their having to bother the surgeon general over trivial workplace politics.
Sidney closed his letter with βI feel that we have gained quite an asset in the relationship we are developing with you. We will work this thing out one way or another. It is of the greatest importance to do so.β
Less than a year later, Jolly wanted out of Lackland. Maybe heβd predicted correctly, and Robert L. Williams had rained all over Jollyβs MKULTRA plans. Or maybe it was plain old bureaucratic red tape. The laboratory where he needed to conduct his research still hadnβt been built. No matter the reason, at some point along the way, Jolly decided to look elsewhere for a job. As far as his obligation to the Air Force was concerned, heβd have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
In April 1954, he arrived at the bridge. Heβd been offered the position of professor and head of the Department of Psychiatry, Neurology, and Behavioral Sciences at the University of Oklahoma, and he would now need to seek approval from the Office of the Surgeon General before he could accept the position. Of course, heβd have to do so strategically and with finesse, since he had no intention of taking no for an answer.
University officials did what they could to get the Air Force to relinquish Jolly. The dean of the medical school promised to build Jolly the laboratory he needed to conduct his βspecial research assignmentβ for the CIA and USAF, including technical assistance and equipment. The laboratory was to be called the Air Force Psychosomatic Laboratory, likely as camouflage. Best of all, he would be able to conduct his research as he saw fit, with no questions asked. Still, months went by as Jolly tried to convince the assorted colonels and generals that the Air Force would be better off with him in Oklahoma than in Texas. He proposed transferring to Tinker Air Force Base, in Oklahoma City, where he could split his time between the university and military base, but the Air Force said no. Practically speaking, there was no need for a psychiatrist of his stature there.
Despite the string of disapprovals, the Office of the Surgeon General began coming around to see things Jollyβs way. In August 1954, they offered a compromise in which Jolly would be granted 60 days of unpaid leave per year over and above any accrued leave he had, all of which he could use to work for the university. On September 26, 1954, the university announced that Jolly West would be joining their faculty.
After all was said and done, Brigadier General H.H. Twitchell, in the Office of the Surgeon General, let Jolly know what had gone on behind the scenes that brought about the Air Forceβs change of heart.
βIt seemed ill advised to establish the Air Force Psychosomatic Laboratory either at Lackland or an Air Force base in Oklahoma only to have to abandon the project upon your release from the service 20 months from now. Therefore, General Powell, Major Hughes, Major Kollar, and myself conferred to discuss the best way to get your special research project underway on a continuing basis. It was decided that the Air Force Medical Service should withdraw from the project as it now stands leaving you and Major Hughes free to organize the program within your department at the University on a contract basis with the Agency that Major Hughes represents. Major Hughes indicated that other than the slight delay involved in establishing your program at the University of Oklahoma this will not seriously interfere with the conduct of the research since the acceptance of your professorship was predicated upon the unquestioned full support of this project. Major Hughes also indicated that he would discuss the details of this matter with you in the near future.β
Hmmm. Major Hughes sure sounds as if he had a lot of sway in the matter, doesnβt he? But who was he? Brigadier General Twitchell and General Powell both worked in the Office of the Surgeon General. Major Kollar worked at Lackland AFB. But this was the first Iβd ever heard of Major Hughes.
My guess? I think Major Hughes was our friend Sidney Gottlieb. Hereβs why:
- Sidney liked to use pseudonyms. In his July 2, 1953, letter to Jolly West, he signed his name Sherman C. Grifford, a pretend person who was affiliated with the pretend organization Chemrophyl Associates. In a meeting with the military men, I can see him taking on a more suitable pseudonym for the occasionβsomething with a rank that was respectable, but not too highβand a last name that was a little more forgettable than Gottlieb.
- Major Hughes was representing an Agencyβwith a capital A. General Twitchell was being cautious with his wording, but thereβs no question that he was referring to the CIA.
- Major Hughes seemed to be closely tied to Jollyβs research project. In fact, the way General Twitchell described it, Major Hughes and Jolly would be working together to organize the program in Jollyβs new department.
- The person from the CIA with whom Jolly was working most closely on this project since June 1953 was Sidney Gottlieb.

In December 1954, Jolly wrote to a friend telling him that heβd started at Oklahoma, and by January 1955, heβd submitted a proposal to the Geschickter Foundation (another CIA front organization) for MKULTRA funding. By March 1955, heβd received approval for a $20,000 grant to begin his infamous work which came to be known as Subproject 43.
That pretty much sums things up, except there may be a little more to the story. In an article for the investigative site The Intercept, authors Tom OβNeill and Dan Piepenbring brought to light a gut-wrenching story in which Jolly West played a critical role. It concerns a murder that took place near Lackland Air Force Base at around midnight July 4, 1954. The victim was a three-year-old girl named Chere Jo Horton whoβd been playing in the parking lot of a tavern while her parents and brother were inside. (Helicopter parenting was definitely not a thing in the β50s.) A search went on, and, tragically, her lifeless body was found in the nearby gravel pit.
The man who was charged with the murder, Jimmy Shaver, had come walking up from the gravel pit before her body had been discovered, almost as if he was in a trance. His body was bloody and scratched from brambles. Chere Joβs underwear were dangling from his car door. An Associated Press story that ran the following day said that Shaver had written in a statement that he remembered putting her in his car and driving away. His last memory was of removing her from the car, and “then I blacked out.” Shaver was employed at Lackland AFB as a drill instructor. Up until that moment, heβd been a law-abiding citizen.
According to the Waco Times-Herald, Jolly testified at Shaverβs trial that Shaver was βgiven over to his care two months after the crime.β During that period, Jolly had given Shaver sodium amytal which, according to the paper, “put Shaver into an hypnotic trance.” A United Press wire service story said that West had examined Shaver “under hypnosis and truth serum.”
Jolly stated to the court that Shaver had been ridiculed and abused as a child by a little girl, and when he saw Chere Jo, Shaver was mentally transported back to his childhood. He killed herβa voice in his head had told him to do itβbut he thought he was killing the abusive girl, Jolly told the court. Shaver was βinsaneβ at the time of the killing and βdid not know right from wrong,β the paper quoted him as saying.
Jimmy Shaver died from the electric chair on July 25, 1958.
Itβs a horrible, tragic story that Iβve avoided writing about for a while. Hereβs why I want to discuss it now: First, this was all happening while Jolly was trying to leave Lackland AFB. At the time of Chere Joβs murder, Jolly had already been offered the job, and he was trying to convince the Office of the Surgeon General that heβd be of more use to them in Oklahoma than in Texas. In September, during Shaverβs trial, Jollyβs name, along with the name of Lackland Air Force Base, was being splashed on newspapers across Texas, and beyond. It was precisely at this time when the Office of the Surgeon General gave the green light for Jolly to conduct his research elsewhere.
Could it be that the surgeon general decided to make the Jolly West P.R. problem go away by approving his early move to Oklahoma? Theyβd allow him to continue with his experiments, but just not on their turf.
The reason I pose this question is that in Tom OβNeillβs and Dan Piepenbringβs piece, they raise the question of whether Jolly West may have actually been conducting hypnotic experiments on Shaver before the murder and perhaps even introduced false memories during his hypnosis sessions after the murder. You can read the story and see the evidence for yourself.
Iβd like to focus on one detail. Jolly had said under oath that Jimmy Shaver was βgiven over to his care two months after the crime.β But in OβNeillβs and Piepenbringβs piece, OβNeill had actually spoken with another psychiatrist at Lackland, a man named Gilbert Rose, who’d taken part in the sessions with Jolly West and Shaver.
In 2002, he said the following:
β[Rose had] also never known how West had found out about the case right away. βWe were involved from the first day,β Rose recalled. βJolly phoned me the morning of the murder. He initiated it.ββ
If what Rose said is true, then Jolly had committed perjury when he told the court of his later involvement. Why would he say that if he didnβt have something to hide? And again, were any of the Air Force officials knowledgeable?
Thereβs one last person we need to discuss, and that person is Doc Switzer. Where does Doc factor into all of this?
In our running theory, Doc was considered βessentialβ by the Office of the Surgeon General in September 1952. At that time, the surgeon general was Harry G. Armstrong. However, when Jolly West received the OK to move to Oklahoma in 1954, the surgeon general was Dan C. Ogle. And once West was doing his work at the University of Oklahoma, the Office of the Surgeon General had purposely written themselves out of the equation.
I have no idea what Surgeon General Harry Armstrong wanted from Doc Switzer. Perhaps he helped keep him up to speed on things. But by the time Jolly West moved his laboratory to the University of Oklahoma, there would have been no need for his services, at least in that regard.
To look at it another way, could it be that the perfect window of time when Doc Switzer was considered βessentialβ to Project Artichoke happened to coincide with the time that Ronald Tammen disappeared from Miami University?