Coincidence or Destiny? A Star in the Heavens and the Black Dahlia Case

September 15, 2025
Birch Bay, Washington

Tracing destiny through a father’s gift, a photograph, and the enduring mystery of George Hodel and the Black Dahlia

Steve and George Hodel side by side 1943
(Cropped from larger family photo.)

For the past twenty-six years I’ve wrestled with the question of coincidence versus destiny. In my younger years I leaned into metaphysics, exploring Eastern philosophies and thinkers like Manly P. Hall and regular weekend visits to Krishnamurti lectures in Ojai, California.  By my middle years, I’d settled into agnosticism, where I remained for decades. Yet this long investigation—door after door opening, links appearing between the unlinkable—has pulled me back to questioning whether there might be some form of intelligent guidance at work.

Below is a family portrait taken on November 7, 1943—the day after my second birthday—when I was just two years and one day old, seated on my father’s lap. The original photograph was made by Galka Scheyer, a towering figure in the Los Angeles art scene who helped introduce modernism to California. My mother’s calendar confirms the exact date it was taken, a small detail that has become deeply meaningful to me in hindsight.

Galka Scheyer print 5×7 unsigned Hodel Family 1943 provenance estab by entry in orig calendar book in handwriting of Dorothy Hodel dated Nov 7 1943 “

Dorothy Hodel handwritten entry for Galka Scheyer family photo scheduled for Nov. 7, 1943

Decades later, during one of my weekend visits with him at his San Francisco penthouse, my father personally handed me “a star in the heavens for my fifty-second birthday, adding that “he’d pruchased a star for himself as well.” In re-checking the International Star Registry, I discovered that my father, who was given the option of choosing the constellations, selected Aquila, the Eagle for himself and Leo Minor, the Little Lion for me. That unexpected gift has since become a symbol of my life’s investigation into his secrets. Placed side by side with the old photograph, it’s hard not to see it as part of a larger thread. The old photograph was taken fifty years earlier, on November 7, 1943—the morning after my second birthday. Father and son, two November mornings, one long arc of intention.

Constellations of Father and Son

• My father’s star lies in the constellation-Aquila-The Eagle.

     

• My star is in Leo Minor-The Lion.

*A recent computation if accurate estimates we are at a minimum, some 200 light years apart which is just about right for my comfort. (I’ll let my readers know if I hear from him in the year-2225)

Was it chance? Fate? Or something larger guiding these discoveries across time? I leave that for the reader to decide. For me, the evidence—and the stars—suggest destiny.

The Hidden Clew: 50 Years Then, 50 Years Now

On Novemberr 6, 1943, a photograph was taken–one that would later become central to my investigation. Exactly fifty years to the day, on November 6, 1993, my father presented me with a star registered in my name through the International Star Registry.

What at first seemed a simple gift carried a deeper resonance. It marked my 52nd birthday, fifty years after that fateful photograph was captured. Over a half-century apart, both moments became permanently linked–one rooted on Earth, the other inscribed among the stars.

📦