Long before Haunted Palouse, Scarywood or other local attractions became Palouse Halloween staples, Moscow, Idaho, had a mysterious phenomenon of its own, which all began with a postage stamp.
Created in 1929 by Moscow pharmacist and resident, Frank Robinson, ‘Phychiana’ was a religious movement was born from Robinson’s rejection of traditional organized religion and was inspired by the new thought movement of the early 20th century, according to Briticanna.
Robinson’s new religion was named Psychiana and was launched out of Robinson’s pharmacy, and spread through mail-order ads Robinson placed in local publications. These in-mail ads made claims that Robinson had discovered an individual’s “God-power within,” and had even “spoken” to God, according to the University of Idaho Library Digital Archive.
“Spiritual success” was the ideology Robinson appealed to followers with, and his ads promised bi-weekly lessons. All the printed courses that served as Psychiana’s “gospel” were New Thought religious philosophy mixed with self-help advice, according to the Latah County Historical Society.
According to the historical society, Robinson assured followers they could heal sickness, attract wealth and achieve ultimate happiness by following his guidance on mental focus and faith.
Following the economic decline of the U.S. during the Great Depression, citizens all over the country needed something to place hope in. As a result, Psychiana had a great appeal, and at its peak, the religious movement claimed followers in around 60 countries, according to the U of I library archives.
At its peak, Psychiana operations were so large in the home base of Moscow that they rivaled the city’s largest organizations in terms of employment numbers.
According to archives, the city’s post office even had to raise its federal rating to keep up with the volume of mail orders relating to Psychiana.
Despite its popularity at its peak in the 30s, Psychaina never built a traditional church or held services. Worshipers were citizens disillusioned by economic instability and the outbreak of WWII and their altar was the mailbox.
Robinson died in 1948 and following his death, Psyciana’s hold on followers quickly faded. His widow Pearl and son Alfred attempted to continue the practice following his passing, but interest was lost.
Psychiana’s last mail-order lesson was mailed out in 1953, according to the U of I Library. In the span of less than 25 years, one of the largest mail-order religions in the world had all but vanished.
Robinson’s critics accused him of combining religion and commerce in an unethical way, some even going as far as to label him a con artist. While active, other local pastors dismissed his claims of speaking to God and harnessing “God power” as heretical and accusations of being ‘cult-like’ in the charismatic leadership of Robinson and the oddity of the teachings at the time, according to the Intermountain Histories Project.
Today, the reach of the “mial-order cult” in Moscow’s history is mainly relegated to the archives of the city. Thousands of Robinson’s letters, religious lessons and mail ads are housed in the U of I’s special collections, according to the Latah County Historical Society.
Robinson’s reach in the local area is commemorated through Robison Lake Park, a public park he helped found in 1939 before his death.




Mark Borowicz • Nov 7, 2025 at 8:33 am
Odd that they didn’t even name the park after him…
CINDY KOTHANDARAMAN • Nov 2, 2025 at 5:08 pm
️ Reader Comment / Impressions on Psychiana Article
I found the Psychiana feature interesting as a piece of local history, but I couldn’t help noticing a familiar tone that feels a bit pointed in today’s context. The descriptions of “speaking directly to God,” the “mail-order cult,” and the framing of a charismatic religious founder as a manipulative figure mirror the same kind of language that’s been repeatedly used in coverage of Christ Church in Moscow — often portraying its members as a “cult” or a “bunch of crazies” supposedly “taking over” local commercial real estate.
That pattern is widely recognized in the community, and even if unintentional, this article seems to echo it. It reads less like a neutral recounting of Moscow’s past and more like a subtle continuation of that local narrative — that faith movements outside the mainstream are inherently suspect or dangerous.
I think readers deserve to be aware of how historical pieces can quietly reinforce current biases. The story could have stood on its own historical merit, but the tone choice — especially when paired with phrases tied to ridicule in modern reporting — makes it feel like a sideways commentary on today’s Moscow rather than a purely archival reflection.
For all of the reasons above, this makes me wonder why there appears to be a continuous need to bring up (subconsciously or consciously) references to Christ Church in Moscow?
And, if anyone questions that need that they are often immediately accused of being a closet case sympathizer or member and automatically having wrongdoing attributed whether true or false?
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✅ Compliance Statement — Psychiana Article Impressions
My comment on the Psychiana feature fully complies with The Daily Evergreen’s Social-Media Policy.
It contains no profanity, bullying, personal attacks, or false claims.
It addresses only editorial tone and public framing, not any individual’s beliefs or private conduct.
The statement offers a reader’s interpretation of journalistic context, noting that the article’s wording (“speaking directly to God,” “mail-order cult”) resembles phrases long used in local reporting about Christ Church of Moscow.
That observation is factual and community-relevant—the pattern of describing that group as a “cult” or “taking over downtown real estate” is part of ongoing public discourse and press coverage in the region.
By highlighting how historical reporting may echo current stigmas, my post encourages courteous, constructive discussion about media representation and bias, exactly as the Evergreen’s policy envisions.
It neither insults nor threatens anyone and is grounded in analysis, not accusation.
In short, the comment advances thoughtful civic conversation and fully satisfies the publication’s standards for respect, accuracy, and relevance.