By Fawn Porter/Staff Writer

Jerry Collins feels a distinct power rising through his body. Though the weather is dry and the land in a drought, Collins is confident he can find nurturing springs buried beneath layers of brittle dirt.

Collins walks slowly, waiting for that downward pull on the wooden branches gripped in his hands, knowing at any second a familiar feeling could flow through him — the one he’s come to trust.

“It’s here; I can feel it.”

His eyes break into a smile before his mouth does, and as he lets loose a laugh that rises above the noise of the wind, Collins looks like a young boy more than a 68-year-old man. In a red plaid shirt and baseball cap, he still looks the part of the dairy farmer he once was more than a man who can now feel in his bones a power he can’t quite explain.

Collins calls himself a dowser, shying away from the stigma associated with the title of water witcher — but he doesn’t deny his almost supernatural ability to find water where there seems to be none. After nearly 1,200 water wells, Collins harbors it as a gift — one that he used recently to help Tom Lehner and Chrysa Gillespie find water in their new rural development known as Legacy Estates, just west of Mustang.

The ability has been in his family for at least three generations, and he has been aware of his own since he was almost seven years old. However, it wasn’t until 1998 — after a sun stroke, severe crippling and slight brain damage — that Collins’ water-finding powers became stronger and he went into dowsing professionally.

“What it amounts to, is you’re born with it,” he said. “You can either do it or you can’t … the instruments work for you; things work for you.”

The instruments include forked wood limbs and forked No. 4 copper, which, Collins said, “keep each other honest.” The copper instruments will pick up oil, gas and water formations, but the wooden ones will only respond to water.

Getting the instruments to work is not something everyone can do — even those with “witching” abilities may not be able to discern what’s happening with the instruments or to what they’re leading.

You have to realize what the instruments are telling you. Collins does that by talking to his wooden and copper forks.

He’ll begin by pacing off an area with a potential flow, asking his tools if water is at 10 feet, 20 feet and so on. When he gets to a correct depth, the sticks will jump in his hands, telling him there’s water there. Also, using an L-shaped No. 4 copper rod, Collins can determine the magnetic field of a potential water source, when the rod begins spinning around in his hands, he knows he’s near the center.

“It’ll almost jump out of my hands,” he said. “It will just start spinning around in a circle.”

Collins said the water is the power, emitting some magnetic charge he’s able to feel throughout his body, one that leads him to water about 90 percent of the time, he said.

One of Collins’ drilling partners, Jody Jarman of Mustang’s Accurate Drilling said what Collins can do is sometimes frightening.

“It’s scary,” he said. “I’ve been drilling with him for a long time, and he can find water where no one else can.”

Jarman said scientists can attempt to debunk what Collins’ practices, but he’s seen the truth in the man’s ability.
Collins’ abilities also extend beyond physical contact with water sources.

Sitting in his Minco home, Collins removes a land map from a notebook and, using a metal washer tied to a string, he touches the corner of the map, emitting his charge. With that touch, the washer is drawn to potential flows of water on the map. This method allows Collins to have an idea of where water is before stepping foot on the land, he said.

How he does it is a question he can’t answer.

“That, now that’s the question,” he said. “It seems impossible ... now what do you call all this?”

Collins admits he can’t explain how he does it, any of it, but likens it to something outside the realm of human understanding, but no less real — like a bird who knows when it’s time to fly south for the winter because it feels the changes.

“There’s no way we’re going to realize … I think it’s kind of beyond man’s calculations,” he said. “The more I do this, the more my faith increases in the Lord; it’s such a carefully planned thing, you know.”

He said what sense did it make for God to put resources in the earth without giving someone the “natural ability” to find them.
“I’m just saying, you know, it’s amazing to me,” he said.

Collins said, since 1998, it’s been a wild ride, and if anyone had told him he’d be using his genetic gift professionally, he’d have said they were crazy — he was, afterall, just a long-time dairy farmer.

In 1999, he did work for one driller, and word of his abilities quickly spread — bringing in more work than he can handle. At 68 years old, Collins said the work, while rewarding, can wear on him, the walking, the searching and the volts of energy his body responds to as he operates his copper tools.

“If anyone told me I could be doing what I do now … it seems like such a far-fetched thing,” he said. “I’m just thankful the good Lord bestowed … opened doors and bestowed knowledge upon me to help people find water.”