John Saxer emerges from behind an appropriately haunted-looking house on a quiet Tarpon Springs street. Shirtless and gaunt, thinning gray hair wild, the self-styled “psychic archaelogist” could’ve just returned from wandering some harsh environment in search of theological or metaphysical truths.
Saxer made multiple news outlets in the late ’00s by claiming that unusual pieces of stone scattered on both sides of the Pinellas-Pasco line were in fact ancient anchors, proving his theory that the area is home to humanity’s biblical birthplace, the Garden of Eden. Today he leads me through a chain-link fence and behind the deserted house (whose owner he knows) into a yard containing a deceased RV, several rusted-out oil barrels, discarded carpet and lumber, and, according to Saxer, a doorway to Hell.
“People who don’t know this is the Garden of Eden think it’s weird that this would be here,” he says. “But since I know this is the Garden of Eden, it’s not weird to me at all.”
In the back right corner of the lot is an ovular depression ringed with rough rocks. At the far end there’s a smaller step down, like the entrance to a root cellar in more cellar-friendly terrain; above it, flatter, smoother slabs of rock are stacked like shelving, or an altar. The entire site is decorated with what Saxer calls “religious artifacts,” which he says are there for protection: a box of polished stones and marbles; a clear plastic skull; old lamps and vases; a mirror emblazoned with a trio of tigers.
In 2013, Italian archaeologists discovered what they named Pluto’s Gate in Turkey — a cave named for its resemblance to one of the mythical doorways to to the underworld created by the goddess Demeter so that her daughter Persephone could split her time between the earthly plane and the dominion of her husband, Hades (or Pluto, in Roman mythology). Saxer has installed a copy of an artist’s rendering of Pluto’s Gate on a stand in front of his find, and points out the similarities.
“I’m not saying this is 4,000 years old,” he says of the tableau that was completely covered by earth before he and the house’s former tenant began digging it up two years ago. “It was put here more recently ... we’ve had psychics come in, they basically confirmed someone must’ve been psychic to build this.”
Saxer, who makes his living as a bicycle mechanic and landscaper, wants to open the site to the public, from Halloween through the winter solstice on December 21, for a $100 donation per carload. (You can make a reservation at 727-238-2935.) He says a great many more things, too. That he himself is “a little psychic” and has communed with whatever’s on the other side of the doorway. That his full name is Johannes Christian von Hohansax von Sax, and since his father’s recent passing he’s become the true king of Switzerland, a country that hasn’t seen monarchy since the end of the 18th century. That he knows the location of the capstone of the Great Pyramid of Giza.
A friendly man with an easy smile, Saxer says all these things and more with the didactic surety of a professor covering well-trodden ground. And after we conclude our interview, as I’m starting my car, I can’t help but wonder: How much more interesting would our world reveal itself to be if they all turned out to be true?
