The Other Side of Enlightenment

On a warm Wednesday evening in June, Ari Laquidara led his students through a series of stretches intended to awaken the energy centers of the body. Standing at the front of the classroom in the Copley Square Dahn center, he wore a navy Korean vest, baggy pants, and an effusive smile. Soft New Age music played over the muted sounds of Boston at rush hour. To Ari’s left stood one of his newest students—his father.

After doing what he could to call attention to Dahn in Boston—including an on-camera interview in a critical WBZ report on the group in February 2006—Charles Laquidara resolved last year to take another look at Dahn. He and Doreen had decided that their efforts to protect their son were only driving him further away. It was possible, they concluded, that the changes in Ari that had once seemed so alarming were actually the signs of a young man growing up, and choosing his own, less conventional path. The couple did countless hours of research, with Doreen going to Sedona last year to take a Dahn Healer course. This June, Charles came back to Boston for two and a half weeks to try out Dahn for himself. “I did the whole enchilada: workshops, classes, healing sessions,” he says. “It was weird as hell, but I loved it. It took me two years to see through this thing I thought was a cult. There’s no poisoned Kool-Aid in this group. After doing more investigation on this than anyone else on the planet, I can say that not only is Dahn not a cult, but it’s a great organization.” Of Hassan, he says, “I believe he thought he was helping our son, but he was dead wrong about Dahn. People who know my radio show know how cynical I am and that I’d have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting sucked into a cult.”

When I told Hassan that Charles had gotten involved with Dahn, he was both surprised and concerned. “The question is, how could someone who has learned about cults and mind control then decide Dahn is a good thing? I don’t know the specifics, but I’m sure Charles’s son was one of the main instruments of indoctrination.” Hassan felt it was understandable that Dahn would want to win Charles over: While he’s not exactly Tom Cruise, Charles’s local celebrity could make him useful to Dahn in the way Cruise has helped Scientology. Charles acknowledges that people from Dahn recently asked him to promote some of their events, but says he has no plans to become a spokesperson for the group.

When I also mentioned that I had been talking to Ari, Hassan asked me if I would reach out to him on his behalf. The two hadn’t communicated in more than two and a half years. I relayed the request, telling Ari that Hassan wanted to meet with him, free of charge, just to talk. Ari was wary, but eventually accepted the invitation.

The two met over coffee in the back of Nashoba Brook Bakery on Colum-bus Avenue in the South End. Ari spoke passionately of the changes he and others in Boston were trying to make in the organization. Hassan later told me he saw this as evidence Ari would leave Dahn within a year. “He basically was admitting that the way they were doing things was bad,” Hassan said. “I think he is on his way out. He has one foot out.” But Ari says he has no plans whatsoever to leave Dahn, and that he’d used the meeting to tell Hassan that he’d been unnecessarily hurtful during the intervention in Hawaii. “He apologized,” Ari says. “It confirmed for me that his heart is really good, but his tack is not.”

After almost two hours, the meeting came to an end. Ari and Hassan left the bakery and walked to the garage where Hassan had parked. The two men hugged for a half minute or more before Hassan finally pulled away. He looked at Ari and said, “You really do remind me of a younger me.” Then he turned and headed for his car.