Famous or Infamous? — Jack Parsons

Rocket Scientist & Occultist

Jack Parsons (1914–1952) lived like combustible fuel—volatile, visionary, irresistible. A self-taught chemist and co-founder of the group that became Jet Propulsion Laboratory, he helped push American rocketry from ridicule to reality. At the same time he was a devoted practitioner of Thelema, the magical philosophy of Aleister Crowley. To admirers he was a libertarian romantic who married science to myth; to critics he was a cautionary blaze.

Child of Fire

Born in Los Angeles as Marquis (John) Parsons, he grew up fascinated by explosives and the dreams of spaceflight. In the 1930s he and friends at Caltech formed the “Suicide Squad,” testing experimental solid and liquid propellants in dry canyons while professors shook their heads. Their field work with asphalt-based fuels and liquid oxygen laid foundations for the rocket motors that would power missiles and, later, space exploration.

From Canyon Tests to JPL

Parsons’ knack for energetic chemistry and casting propellants helped create early jet-assisted takeoff (JATO) units and drew military funding during WWII. The motley test crew evolved into formal organizations that would become JPL and the company Aerojet. Parsons was brilliant in the lab and disastrous with money—selling shares too soon and watching fortunes pass him by.

Magus of Pasadena

Parallel to the lab, Parsons pursued Thelema. At his Agape Lodge in Pasadena he hosted rituals, wrote devotional poetry, and corresponded with Crowley. He insisted science and magic were allied arts: both sought to harness will, unlock nature, and liberate the human spirit.

The Babalon Working

In 1946 Parsons undertook an ambitious series of rites—the Babalon Working—with a young writer, L. Ron Hubbard. The goal: to invoke the archetypal Scarlet Woman, Babalon, into earthly presence. Soon after, Parsons met artist Marjorie Cameron, whom he regarded as the ritual’s theophany. Their romance burned hot, artistic, and occult—equal parts inspiration and instability.

Betrayals & Fallout

Money schemes with Hubbard went sideways; Parsons lost savings and a yacht in a “business venture” gone sour. Government clearances wobbled amid concerns about occultism and loose circles. By the early 1950s he scraped by with contract work, alchemical experiments, and visionary essays such as Freedom Is a Two-Edged Sword and The Book of the Antichrist, calling for radical personal liberty and a new myth for America.

Death in a Flash

On June 17, 1952, an explosion ripped through his home lab in Pasadena. Parsons died en route to the hospital, age thirty-seven. The official view pointed to an accidental detonation of volatile materials. Rumors multiplied—suicide, sabotage, magical misfire. None quieted the legend; they only fed it.

Legacy: Engines & Angels

Parsons occupies a paradoxical niche: co-founder of American rocketry whose early propellant work undergirded JATO and later boosters; counterculture icon who fused laboratory rigor with ritual imagination. Where others saw contradiction, he saw a single arc—from the furnace of the lab to the fire of the star, from the will of the magician to the thrust of a motor.

Symbols & Associations

Colors: Ember red (combustion), midnight blue (Pasadena nights), gold (gnosis/illumination).
Objects: JATO canister, crucible and retort, ritual dagger and chalice, a paperback of Crowley’s Magick.
Figures: Crowley (the distant teacher), L. Ron Hubbard (the rival trickster), Marjorie Cameron (muse/theophany).