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Published Monday November 01, 1999 in the Omaha World Hearld
Rainbow Rowell: Witches Open Broom Closet
If it weren't for the black hat, you would never know Nadine Murphy was a witch. With her Cornhusker sweatshirt and sneakers, she looks like so many other people in Lincoln on a game weekend.
But that black baseball cap with the word WITCH spelled out in big letters, that's a dead giveaway.
"Been pagan for, gosh . . . it's got to be at least 25 or 30 years," Murphy says, shaking her head.
"Everybody knows," she says. "I wear this hat to work. I'm very out."
That's what Murphy is doing on the steps of the State Capitol on Sunday afternoon with about 25 other pagans - coming out of the broom closet, to paraphrase one T-shirt.
They may look like protesters, but they aren't here to argue. Their demonstration is all about education. "Wiccans Vote," one sign reads. "Pagan Taxpayer."
This demonstration is tied to "Blessed Be and Meet Me in D.C.," a national event in Washington, D.C., at which hundreds of pagans planned to gather in support of religious tolerance and diversity.
Local pagans called their event, Blessed Be and Meet Me in N-E. They chose Sunday - not because it's Halloween - but because it's a Celtic holy day, Samhain.
The goal of the event, says Lincoln organizer Todd Walkenhorst, is "to get rid of some of the misconceptions people have about witches and pagans."
Kitchen Witch
Walkenhorst, a 35-year-old factory worker, calls himself a witch and a pagan. He is a member of the Wiccan religion.
But not all pagans are witches.
A pagan, he says, is a non-Christian who may believe in many gods or goddesses. Often their beliefs are pre-Christian and focused on the earth.
Some pagans, like Walkenhorst, are witches and may be members of a coven.
"Mostly," he said, "pagans kind of keep to themselves."
Murphy, for example, is a lone witch.
"I'm a solitary, eclectic pagan," she says, "a kitchen witch."
Like others on the steps, she was drawn to mythology and folklore before she even knew there were real pagans out there.
"Christianity never quite set with me," she says. "It frustrated me to no end. . . . I was nothing for a while. I read some stuff on witches. That didn't seem right, the eye-of-newt bit."
Finally, she found some serious books on ancient religions and witchcraft.
Now, Murphy, 52, says witchcraft is a way of life. She has a local radio show, "Murphy's Magic Mess," on KZUM 89.3. The show focuses on pagan news, issues and music.
When she's not on the air or working at the Goodrich factory, she's working in her garden or studying herbs, making tinctures and salves.
Working a little magic.
Harm None
That's the real question, isn't it?
Do these witches, who say they aren't the sort of witches you think they are, work magic? Do they cast spells?
Sort of, says Jason Blodgett-McDeavitt, high priest-president of a Lincoln Wiccan coven.
Different witches have different views on magic, he said, but there is one almost universal rule: Harm none, do what you will.
"For me," he says, "magic is concerted focus - focusing your mind on what you want or what you need."
It's much like positive thinking or prayer, he said.
Blodgett-McDeavitt, wearing a suit, tie and bat earring, wasn't born and raised a pagan. Like Murphy and Walkenhorst, his religion started in private study.
"I didn't meet other people until the late '80s," he said. "I was a teen witch before it was cool."
Now 33, he works as a Web designer and has a counseling internship. He is getting his master's degree in counseling and psychology. His wife, Cynthia, also Wiccan, works in Web-based education.
Most people they meet seem OK with the couple's choice of religion, they say.
"For the most part," Cynthia says, "people are curious. They ask questions."
So I ask the Blodgett-McDeavitts a question of my own: What's the deal with the broomsticks?
"We don't fly," Jason says, "except in airplanes."
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