The year passed. It was now 1993 and we had been engaged in our “experiment” for some time.
Meanwhile, a local 12 year old girl was reported missing. I was very shaken by it because, when her photo was displayed on the television, she looked so much like my number two daughter that I almost began to cry! I was surprised by my emotional reaction! And, even more surprised when I “saw” in my mind’s eye that the girl was dead, naked, wrapped in what looked like saran wrap, lying in a stand of pine trees. I even had a “sensation” of the general location.
Of course, every psychic in the area jumped on the bandwagon and were leading the cops around here and there and saying that the girl was alive, but hurt and locked up in somebody’s shed or well house. Naturally, this led to everybody in the county running out and looking in their sheds, their neighbors’ sheds, and so forth.
One of these local “psychics” who had heard of my ongoing “channeling experiment” as well as my previous work in criminal investigations, called me to ask if I would help her out a bit from behind the scenes. I flatly told her that the girl was dead. She practically accused me of murdering the child by my lack of faith!
As it happened, the new Administrator of the Sheriff’s department was a guy I had gone to school with many years ago and he knew of my other work. He called and asked my opinion and told him what I though just from cold analysis. But, I added that I had experienced a strange “insight” in this case and this interested him greatly. I suggested the general direction in which the search ought to be made, but before he could act on it, the girl’s body was found – within the very area I had indicated. Local hikers had found the body; it was stripped, had been hosed to remove all traces of evidence, and wrapped in plastic sheeting.
So, my friend decided that he wanted me to go out to the sites and see if I could “sense” anything else. I told him that this really was NOT my forte, and that I probably only had the “insight” because of the emotional reaction to seeing the face that was so similar to my daughter’s. But, because he was rather desperate for a solution on behalf of the family, who were personal friends of his, I agreed to just give it a try. At the very least, I told him, if I have all the facts, I can write a profile.
As an aside, and because it figures in the following events, I need to inform the reader that I had been suffering from a heart condition since an illness in 1980 which had damaged my heart valves, and it was gradually getting worse, so I had to be rather careful about getting out and being too physically active! Traveling was very difficult for me. But, I felt a lot of sympathy for this poor family, so I agreed to have a look, expecting nothing special; a report that would lead to nothing spectacular.
It was about 20 miles to the location where the body was found. I drove around the area where the girl lived and just sort of tried to be open to any impression that might come. My objective was to see everything through the mind of the killer and get “into” his thought processes.
I have never considered myself to be psychic, just extremely good at analysis based on small clues. The solution to the murder is another whole story that is not relevant at present, so we will leave this subject hanging also.
Aside from solving the murder, there was a more significant result to these perambulations. The result of all this traipsing around and putting on that “mind,” was that I became VERY ill. This was the very thing that I had been trying to get away from – it was just too stressful. Nevertheless, I had become involved again and the results were disastrous. I was ordered to bed for complete rest for ten days or longer, or risk being hospitalized.
After a few days of feeling on the verge of death, I began to feel better and my mind was in need of “entertainment,” or so Freddie suspected. I asked him to bring me something new to read, and he arrived with a large grocery sack FULL of UFO and Alien Abduction related books!
I was FURIOUS!
I told him that I was NOT going to read them so he could just take them back! He set the bag down, laughed and left.
After awhile, the boredom became pretty severe, so I reached in and pulled out a book. It was “Missing Time,” by Budd Hopkins. I was pretty amazed as I read this. It was NOT the flaky flim-flam of Ruth Montgomery nor was it the “Gothic Existential Angst” of Whitley Strieber. It was actually an attempt at “serious research!” I was surprised. And, more disturbing, I recognized many things that had been shoved under the rug in my own life were clearly evident in the lives of the people interviewed for this book – only they had reached a point of no longer being able to shove these “anomalous events” under the rug, and were exploring them and talking about them.
Reading these accounts forced me to look at certain things in my studies as well as my personal life with a new eye. But, after some consideration, I brushed that away because I could think of a dozen other explanations for the things that I had experienced.
By the time I finished I was sure of one thing and one thing only: there was a LOT of smoke!
On the one hand, they say “where there’s smoke, there is fire,” and on the other hand, the smoke obscures the source of the fire and the fire itself may be nothing more than a smoldering mess. I wasn’t sure if this was a “manipulation” by the government to make people THINK aliens existed, or if aliens existed and were trying to make the government look guilty.
To further confuse the issue was the question, assuming the aliens were “real,” as to whether they were “good” or “evil.”
There was still my own explanation of the phenomenon, which, in my opinion, held a lot of water, but, it was clear that there were some puzzling elements here that deserved further study.
What a MORASS!
This was in March of 1993.
Meantime, another event occurred that was to change the whole tenor of my perceptions… to an extent.
In spite of my deteriorating physical condition, I endeavored to continue working with my clients because there was such a desperate need for this type of work in the area.
Not long after I had been released from my sick-bed and the inundation of UFO books, I went to the market one morning, and there was a stack of pink flyers with “flea-market” type ads. I was looking for some additional computer equipment, so I picked one up and tucked it in my pocket. When I got home, I read over it and noted an ad for exactly what I wanted.
I called the number and talked to the woman. We began to chat about computers in general and specific. She asked, conversationally, what programs I used and I mentioned my astrology programs which piqued her interest. This led to questions which led to a series of remarks about my work. THAT piqued her interest.
She began to “probe” a bit about the subject, and then asked about scheduling a session because something REALLY strange had happened to her back in 1987, and it STILL bothered her and she wanted to know why, or at least get relief from the internal anxiety it had caused.
The story was that she had been to the funeral of an aunt, accompanied by her 16 yr old son, and they were returning home to Fort Detrick and were driving on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. (I don’t remember where the funeral was.)
It began to snow, and she saw a very bright light ahead, off to the side of the road, sort of bluish white, and she thought that it was a light that had come on to illuminate a billboard since the snow had made things a bit dark.
She then said that what happened next was so strange that, even in remembering it, she felt strange and uneasy. She said that she felt a paralysis come over her hands and arms as though someone had taken control of the car.
I immediately recognized the prodromal “signs” of a “missing time” experience as described by Budd Hopkins, so I casually asked what happened next.
She said that this was the crazy part because she couldn’t remember! It was driving her crazy! After seeing the light and feeling the paralysis, the next thing she remembered was sitting at a traffic light 50 or 60 miles down the road; did not remember making the turn off the main highway, and her son had just cut his finger on a tin of cookies he was trying to open. He was bleeding, and she “came to herself” saying “there’s a towel in the back seat,” to him. To further add to her dismay was the fact that she arrived home much later than she should have, but, at the same time, still had an almost full tank of gas.
She was SURE that it had been her aunt attempting to contact her psychically and she really needed to have an answer.
Well, the fact that she made no mention or claim about aliens made the whole thing VERY interesting to me. And, of course, I did NOT want to even suggest anything about “aliens,” as I wanted to try to prove my theory about alien abductions being “psycho-dramas” in the same manner as past lives, and so forth. I just agreed with her that it might have been her aunt trying to “contact” her and that we could certainly clear the problem up quickly with hypnosis!
She made an appointment. I decided to make a videotape of this session rather than the usual audiotape. I wanted a record of my “proof” that the “alien abduction phenomenon” had another explanation!
On the evening of the appointment (she had asked for an evening appointment because of the fact that she was caring for an ill husband and needed to come at a time when her kids would be home to spell her), it began to storm terribly. I was sure she would NOT come out in such rain and expected a cancellation. But, she showed up. We went through the normal pre-session interview, and then talked a bit about the event again, as I wanted to get the times and details down. I wanted as many details about her general life situation as I could get so that I would have clues about areas of possible conflicts.
She said she was a real estate agent and also had the medical reports business under a government contract. She talked a bit about her children and her disabled/ill husband who was dying, and I was sure that the stress of caring for him was part of her problem; at the very least, an exacerbation.
NOTHING was said about “aliens.” I carefully inquired about her interests and she had never even been interested in metaphysical things, much less aliens. She was sure that I was not going to be able to hypnotize her. But, she was a good subject and quickly went under.
Since this session is on videotape and has not been transcribed, I will just briefly mention the highlights. I guided her to the event and suggested that we go through it “frame” at a time.
The first time through, she jumped from the light on the side of the road and the sensation of beginning paralysis, to the traffic light many miles away.
We went through it again. This time she realized that the car had “parked itself” in the lot of a closed diner just ahead, and that she could sense “figures” approaching the car which terrified her, at which point she skipped like a scratched record to the traffic light again.
I was pretty determined to get to the heart of the matter. I realized that she might describe an “abduction,” but I was planning to use several guided imagery techniques to discover if she was suppressing feelings regarding her childhood, her husband, her life, her aunt, or whatever. I was going to “expose” the alien abduction/missing time business as the psychodrama I believed it to be.
If ever there was proof that a hypnotherapist with a pre-formed belief cannot influence the recall of a subject, this case is a classic in that regard! I am ashamed to admit my assumptions now, and I freely admit that it was not the proper approach to the problem, but then again, the subject was not claiming to have been abducted by aliens – at least not consciously. And I was going to be very careful to not lead in any way so that the “experiment” would be uncontaminated.
So, we went through it again. This time, when we got to the part where she saw (or sensed) the “beings” approaching the car, I had her “freeze frame” it and tried to “split the screen” to discover what was “behind” such images. But when I did, she began to writhe and twist and clutch at her arms and cry out in pain: “Stop! It hurts! It hurts! I can’t! I can’t!”
I asked her what she “couldn’t do,” and she said, “I can’t tell!” I gave suggestions to overcome the discomfort and to remove the block, that she COULD tell… she was safe, it was past, and so on and on, and it was completely ineffective.
To say that I was puzzled and frustrated is an understatement. I had never encountered a blocked memory that I could not find some way to access. This was one of my specialties. I could always find the “backdoor” of the mind, ease the pain, and get to the root of the problem. But try as I would, nothing worked! She repeated: “I can’t! I can’t!” So, in frustration I asked: “WHY?” and her answer raised the hair on my head and chilled me to the bone: “Because THEY won’t let me!”
For a few moments I was completely nonplussed. I had never encountered this “THEY” who could so effectively block memory and cause pain and suffering when attempts were made to access it.
I realized that I was clearly dealing with a deeply repressed trauma. I wanted to believe that it related to something in childhood, or perhaps even a past life, but I couldn’t shake the eerie sensation that washed over me when she cried “THEY won’t let me!”
I knew that I could not lose the professional “control” and I decided that perhaps she just needed to be in a deeper trance to access this information. But, I was not going to push any further at this moment. Sometimes a subject must be “conditioned,” over time, so I started the suggestions that would make her feel good, make her LIKE hypnosis, make her want to do it again, and help her to go into a trance more easily in the future so that a deeper state could be achieved and we could “deal” with this thing. Then, I brought her out.
We discussed a future appointment and she agreed that she would like to try again and that was that.
Okay, fine. End of story? Nope.
Several days later there was an article in the St. Pete Times about a UFO sighting a few miles north of here which had occurred the previous night. I didn’t think too much about it. Freddie, of course, was very perfectly gleeful about it, but I figured that, after so many years with never a single UFO in the area, (there had been no UFO sightings, to my knowledge, in this area since the 70s.) we were probably overdue for the “Millennial Disease.” We live in such a quiet and sort of backward area that it generally took five or ten years for “fads” to get here. And, I was still thinking that this UFO business was a “fad.”
The report of the sighting said that a family of five persons as well as a State Trooper had witnessed the 300 foot wide floating black boomerang, so it aroused a lot of interest because of the “professional” observer.
I hadn’t heard of this particular configuration of craft, but I was frankly surprised at the synchronicity of a UFO sighting so soon after this “missing time” session with the real estate agent.
The day following the publication of this initial UFO article, there was an additional one. It seems that a LOT more people had seen the things over the previous days and they were encouraged to hand in their reports by the fact that a State Trooper was swearing he saw it too! And, the skin began to crawl on my neck again as I read that the FIRST sighting had been in MY neighborhood on the night, and at the exact time that I had been working with this woman who had the missing time.
The name of the woman who had witnessed the UFO in my area was given in the article and I looked her address up in the phone book and tried to call her. As soon as I mentioned why I was calling, the phone was slammed down, so it seems that she must have gotten some nasty calls about it.
I called the reporter who had written the articles but he wasn’t able to add anything, so I decided that, given the fact she had described the direction, I would just go to her house and casually walk by and see what she might have seen.
My worst fears were confirmed. Looking in the direction she described in the interview, at the time she described (she was going to the bathroom while watching L.A. Law.), she would have been looking at an area that was directly OVER my house!!!
I was NOT happy about this turn of events! It gave me the absolute CREEPS!
And it made me think.
It was so strange a synchronicity that I couldn’t help but think that the appearance of these craft related to our activities. I tried to sweep this thought under the rug, but it kept coming back. And that, of course, led to the thought of HOW this could be, and the only solution I could think of was something that related to “universal Consciousness” or God. And, if that was the case, then it might be that it was designed to get my attention. And, if it was designed to get my attention, what could be the purpose?
Well, there was a third article about this series of sightings – seems that a dozen or more people had seen the blasted thing all over the county – and this last article was designed to put it all to rest; it was a suggestion that what had been seen was a “stealth bomber.”
My comfort zone was reestablished and I could rest at night.
For a while…
Meanwhile, during the past four months my physical condition had been rapidly deteriorating and I knew that I needed to do something about it. I had been forced to reduce my workload to about three clients a week, and this was so draining that the entire day following a session was employed in recovery. I literally had no other life but my clients and the channeling experiment. My husband was very resentful of the time I gave to others. After trying various adjustments, it became clear that he did not really want to spend time with me, he merely resented that I spent time with anyone else. He wanted me to be available to do what HE wanted, when he wanted because he wanted to be waited on. He didn’t understand that, even if I did nothing, I couldn’t wait on him. He simply did not understand the difference between mental exertion and physical. My children were taking care of my house, which I would not have been able to do even if I had not being doing therapy.
The doctor had suggested mild aquatic exercise to strengthen my heart without further stressing it. The problem was, the only place to go for such therapy was a VERY stressful 30 minute drive away.
I was getting tired of being so weak and unable to accomplish all the things I wanted to do. I knew that I probably did not have long to live, but I wanted to make the time count. Here was this interesting puzzle to be solved, and I didn’t have the stamina to do what needed to be done in terms of research.
I needed and wanted a swimming pool. So, I did what I always do when in need: I prayed. I told God that this was all very interesting stuff going on around me with these UFOs and abductees and so forth, but it simply was a waste of time to expose me to it because I was physically unable to respond to it effectively. A pool. That would help, I thought.
Since Florida had started it’s lottery, we had sort of habitually bought a couple of tickets every week and I had won the daily “pick three” twice from numbers I had dreamed, though it only paid about 3 to 5 hundred dollars. It was not a big “thing,” but I figured a couple of dollars a week was not really a “gambling habit,” and I would spend as much for a couple of colas.
Two months after the UFO flap, on July 2nd, 1993, and just a few weeks after my prayer about my condition, we won the Fantasy Five game, which was a new feature that played three times a week. The take on that night was over 15 thousand dollars, so I had my pool.
It wasn’t ready until the middle of August. But, I was happy that it was ready in time so that the children and I could “baptize” the pool by floating on our rubber rafts and watching the Perseid Meteor shower.
August 16, 1993. The children were excited to stay up and watch a meteor shower in the pool and had rushed out at about 10. It gets really dark here only after 9 in the evening in the summer time. I rested to prepare for the exertion and went out to join them at eleven o’clock. Three of the five children were out there with me. My eldest daughter was on a date, and the baby was in bed.
I slid into pool for the first time, and was SOOOO happy and grateful to have it! We started looking in the direction that the meteors were supposed to be found and there were favorable viewing conditions. No moon, clear sky with only a slight upper level haze from the humidity, and the ambient light was minimal.
Suddenly, my twelve-year-old daughter cried out “LOOK! Overhead!” Thinking it was a meteor, I immediately looked up… only it was NOT a meteor… it was a 300 foot wide black boomerang, with a faint reddish glow, moving so slow and low that I knew, if I had been standing on the roof of my two story house, I could have reached up and touched it! It was gliding so slowly that we had plenty of time to note the “brushed matte black metal” underside; and we watched as it moved ever so slowly overhead, seeming to float more than anything else, and then continued south. It seemed to skim the treetops.
We were looking at each other and all saying at once: “WHAT WAS THAT?! ” When my son shouted: “Another one!” and, sure enough, just to the west of the path of the first one, there was another. Every detail was identical as to altitude, speed, reddish glow, and UTTER SILENCE! And I WAS, at this point, in sufficient possession of my senses to TRY to hear something! Dead silence. And that struck me as odd since there are normally all kinds of night sounds: crickets, night birds, frogs and so forth. But, there was nothing; no sound.
We stood there in amazement for a few frozen moments and then the kids began to shout for their dad to come out. He came to the door and asked what all the excitement was about. The kids were saying: “We saw a UFO!” and he pooh-poohed and asked me WHAT we had seen.
I don’t know why, and I will NEVER be able to explain it, but I was deeply distressed and I said: “It HAD to be a flock of geese! Clearly we are going to have bad weather because the geese are flying South early this year!”
He looked at me as though I were an idiot and pointed out that geese do NOT fly South in August, and, anyway, we ARE South!
I was VERY upset and confused. I went inside and called Freddie. He was very excited and said that he had just come in and that there was a message on his answering machine that he wanted me to hear. He rewound it and played it for me over the phone. Another friend had called him to describe having seen the EXACT SAME THING, only it had been seen an hour earlier! The guy was out in his driveway at 10 o’clock to try and see a few meteors, and had been over flown by the big, black boomerang, with his neighbor as a witness.
I was so upset that I had to go in my bedroom and sit and think. It was clear to me that, if I could not find a rational explanation for this thing, there was only ONE thing to think: either they were REAL, or I had contracted the “Millennial Disease” and was losing my mind.
It was a CERTAINTY that it was NOT a stealth bomber. The newspaper article had described them pretty thoroughly when the previous flap had occurred.
The first thing I wanted to know was: did anybody ELSE see it? I wanted to find others and TALK to them – ask questions – get a consensus of descriptions. I wanted to know that I was NOT crazy.
So, the next day I called a couple of the local television stations to inquire if there had been any reports of “strange objects” in the sky. One woman was very nasty and informed me that there HAD been a meteor shower. Well, I was NOT talking about lights flashing across the sky, and I certainly KNEW a meteor from a 300 foot wide black boomerang!
I received similar treatment from various other media sources I contacted to try and get some information. I was not comfortable enough to make a report of my own, so I was really trying to talk about the subject without even using the term “UFO.” In retrospect, my reluctance to even say it is comical! There didn’t seem to be any information to be obtained until Freddie called and said that the weather man on one of the television stations had mentioned that one of the “community weather observers” had reported several “flocks of geese” the previous night. Since I had tried to explain it to myself in these same terms, I thought that this might be a “hit.” But that was all I was going to get from the “standard” sources.
I was frustrated at being “blown off” and treated like an idiot. I remembered that there was an organization where one made reports of such things: MUFON. Maybe they would know. I looked in the back of one of Freddie’s books and found the phone number and called. I was given a local number, and called it. It was an answering machine that announced the director was going to be on vacation for the next two weeks, so I hesitated, but finally left my name and number and the fact that I wanted some information about a “possible UFO sighting.”
It was well into September before anyone called me back and the guy apologized for taking so long. He suggested that, since the monthly meeting was the next day, perhaps I would come and give the report in person. I didn’t know about THAT! I was not ready to hang out with geeks who believed in little green men and who probably wore plastic pocket protectors, coke-bottle glasses, and kept Mad Magazine rolled up in their back pockets! I mean, GET REAL!
The next day, the day of the MUFON meeting, I was NOT going to go. I was going to drop the whole subject. But, as the clock rolled around, the kids disappeared to various activities, the baby went off with her dad, and I was left at home alone. Surprisingly, my usual state of exhaustion was at a minimum and, with nothing to do I thought that maybe, JUST MAYBE, I would go and check this MUFON bunch out. It it was creepy, or if I became too tired, I could always come right home.
So, I went. I was surprised. There were no geeks. Not even a single pocket protector. And, these folks were certainly too old for Mad Magazine!
A discussion was in process and I listened for an hour or so until a break was called. I was amazed at how EXTREMELY intelligent these folks were! More so than average, in my opinion. And certainly brighter than the run-of-the-mill “New Age Groupie.”
At the break, I was asked to sign a guest sheet, and the director recognized my name and asked me to talk about my sighting.
As I began to talk, the door opened (this was a public meeting room in a local library) and a big, bearded man came in. Everyone stopped while he got seated and the director introduced him to me. I was surprised at his name, which is an unusual Welsh one that happened to be my grandfather’s middle name and had been his mother’s maiden name. I went on with my little story and there were all sorts of questions asked. I made a drawing on a blackboard and that was that.
The gentleman who had arrived late was, apparently, well-known by the group as an “expert” which interested me as much as his name. He was apparently scheduled to speak and talked at length about the theories of Zecariah Sitchen. I was intrigued by the historical connections to UFO sightings, though I discounted the precise interpretation put on the Sumerian writings by Dr. Sitchen.
At the end of the meeting, I asked this gentleman where he came from and told him that his name was also in my family and he recognized my grandfather’s name and told me that his father had been the younger brother of my great-grandmother. The only reason I had never known of him or met him was because there was a “religious” schism in the family. My branch abandoned the Baptist church and became Methodist. This was a HUGE scandal in those days, and the families broke off contact, particularly since they were all in the ministry. (What an ironic comment!)
So, having found a “long-lost-cousin-UFO-expert,” we decided to have lunch. After lunch, we exchanged phone numbers and he promised to call and visit and continue our discussion. It was completely strange to meet this man who was almost an exact, male version of myself! (Physically) And, he was WONDERFULLY intelligent, articulate, informed, and clearly a scholar.
I decided that it would be nice for him to join Freddie and I for our weekly discussions.
Meanwhile, a most disturbing thing was happening. My physical condition, instead of getting better, had gotten worse from the first night in the pool. I visited several doctors and the consensus was that I was suffering allergies which exacerbated my already compromised cardio-pulmonary system. It was decided that I must have reached a sort of “critical mass” of allergen exposure on the night of the UFO over the pool. I had some relief from benadryl, but that was no solution. My body simply did not seem to be able to handle the toxins anymore.
I was constantly sick. I had a terrible rashes, welts, and all the mucous membranes of my body kept swelling to the point that my throat and nose would almost shut completely. The underside of my eyelids were so irritated that they oozed yellowish, sticky fluids constantly which made it difficult to see and my ears itched deep inside which nearly drove me crazy.
On top of all this, I would have “attacks” which began with a severe nausea and then I felt as though a fencepost had been driven through my chest and I would become unable to move. My breathing was labored and painful and I would break out in a cold sweat. The funny thing was that the symptoms were worse at night, starting at about 11:00 p.m. I reasoned that this must be the time of “critical mass” of the day’s exposure to whatever allergen was active at the moment.
The doctor wanted to examine me in this “state,” but an even more bizarre thing was that on the several occasions that my husband took me to the emergency room, the symptoms would cease as suddenly as they had started and the physicians were unable to get a handle on the situation.
I refused to check myself into the hospital for extended tests because, by now, I was thoroughly frightened at what was happening to me. When the nurse came to me with the papers to sign for admission, pushing a cart with an IV set-up on it, a voice clearly told me that if I allowed her to put that needle in my arm, it would be used to kill me! I felt like the most ungrateful and reprehensible of criminals when I declined to sign the admission form and said that I was NOT going to stay in the hospital. The doctors and nurses pleaded with me and gave dire warnings that I could die, but I was resolute, signed a release of liability, and went home.
But, no matter what was tried, I was NOT getting relief. I kept going every day and doing what I could, but I reduced my schedule to a bare minimum. I would rest all day on the days Freddie and I “sat for the contact,” and often he and my cousin would come to visit and talk while I was unable to stand at all. I was so weak sometimes that I could barely lift my head. But, I could think and talk, and these visits gave me something to look forward to.
As my body deteriorated, my mind grew sharper and clearer. Among the many things we discussed were certain events of my life that, until the advent of the “alien interference” theory, had been completely inexplicable. Then, the lists of synchronicities were discussed in minute detail, (I have omitted a LOT of this material here for brevity) and a sort of consensus was drawn among us that, clearly, some ONE or some THING was trying to get my attention.
I did NOT like such a connotation. In the first place, I had studied too much, seen too much, and worked with too many troubled people to not understand the dangers of ego. When anyone starts to think they are “special,” it CAN be a warning! Endless numbers of deluded people inhabit psychiatric wards lost in “magical thinking.”
And, we had this problem of these aliens. Who or What were they? Could I find an answer? Was this part of the reason? Why would anyone or anything go to so much trouble to set up so many bizarre things to get my attention if I wasn’t supposed to DO something about it? And if I was supposed to DO something, they had certainly picked the wrong person because it was pretty clear that I was NOT going to live a lot.
This UFO business had another effect on me: I was grieving. I was mourning all the years I had spent studying and digging for answers and all the time I had spent putting those answers together, only to have it all trashed in one night by a stupid black boomerang for which existence, no rational explanation could be found.
It was a really pity party! I was crying inside over all the years I had shoved dreadful events of my life under the rug, refusing to look at them because they were SO bizarre and horrible, and now I was seeing the “signature” of some malevolent intelligence that was NOT unique to me and my experiences. If these beings, who, in my mind, were CLEARLY EVIL, had the power to interfere in my life to such an extent, even (and MOST OFTEN) during the times when I was deeply involved with prayer and meditation, what protection did ANYONE have? Were we, the human race, defenseless against these creatures?
I prayed for days. Finally I said: “Okay God, if you exist, and if you are, in fact, a loving Father in ANY sense, and there IS something going on here that is supposed to get my attention, would you kindly help me to understand WHAT? And, if you expect me to DO anything about it… well, you are going to have to fix me up here because I am almost dead… and I WILL be dead soon. I can’t suffer like this much longer. If you will show me the path, I will try to walk it.”
At this point the miracles began to happen. Through a series of strange coincidences, within a week after saying this prayer, I found Reiki; and began to recover physically in ways that simply cannot be imagined. But, that is another story in and of itself. Just to make the point, however, I will mention that I was so overjoyed on the day that I was able to both wash dishes AND load and unload my dryer without collapsing from pain and exhaustion!
With my rapidly improving physical condition, I was gradually able to resume seeing clients and to study and do research. My knowledge of the alien situation expanded exponentially. I was reading everything I could get my hands on through mass market sources as well as black market. And for some strange reason, alien “abductees” were crawling out of the woodwork every time I turned around. I wasn’t getting calls for stress reduction or childhood trauma or even past life regression anymore; it was all abductees! And just about every one of them was in a state of panic that needed immediate attention.
Over and over again I was applying the Baldwin techniques of Spirit Release in conjunction with the trauma abreaction processes that were necessary with abductees who were clearly suffering very serious Post Traumatic Stress. The SRT was having a very positive and healing effect in many cases, and it was part of my therapy to advise the client to cease any and all “metaphysical” activities – to close those doors and keep them closed until they had their strength back. Those who did, improved. Those who didn’t – or couldn’t, did not.
And, as I studied, the question inside me grew larger and larger. I had a TON of data, but it was so confusing that I despaired of ever making any sense of it at all.
Freddie and I had watched several “informative” videos about Al Beilek and Bob Lazar and so on, and we were sitting at the table with the board one night casually discussing them. There was a plate of cookies covering half of the board, and we were sipping coffee and dunking our cookies in it. I was puzzling over the statement of Bob Lazar that the aliens purportedly refer to humans as “containers.”
I didn’t think that the usual explanation of “container for the soul” was quite what was meant. This was rather a deep puzzle to me and I felt like there was an answer somewhere on the edge of my mind, but I just couldn’t quite get to it.
We were just sitting there with our fingers lightly on the planchette, the “question” inside me growing larger and larger, when we heard three loud “claps” of “thunder” right over the house – actually, it was more like the house being struck with a giant hammer because it shook and “boomed” VERY nearby. It startled us and we ran outside to look up and see if a plane had exploded overhead.
The sky was completely clear; moon shining, stars twinkling. So, we went back and sat down with our coffee and cookies at the table.
After a few minutes, we put our fingers back on the planchette and resumed the “process” of just sitting and chatting. But, a funny pinching feeling and a tingle started at the back of my head that ran down my arm and the planchette began to move slowly in a spiral; spiral in and spiral out.
We did the normal thing and asked “is anyone with us?”
And, that was “first contact” with the Sixth Density Beings of Light who transmit through the radio source in Cassiopeia – thus, the Cassiopaeans.
It was very weak at first, but still had the unique quality of coherence and, finally, an entity who could SPELL correctly and did not wander around the board!!! Purpose of movement; economy of verbiage was clear from the VERY start.
But, unfortunately, we were not taping and we did not know if it was a fluke or not. So, we only have notes from the early sessions. After a couple of weeks of repeated contact and apparent strengthening of the communication, I bought a special tape recorder to tape the sessions.
I began to take the experiment more seriously!
Now, this event, the Coming of the Cassiopaeans, occurred 11 months to the day after the sighting of the black boomerang over my pool. From August 16, 1993 until July 16, 1994. This number and dates were later to prove significant in a number of mysterious ways.
Some people have suggested that the extreme “allergy” symptoms that I suffered were “radiation poisoning,” resulting from the close passage of the overhead black boomerang shaped craft, but I can’t say for sure. I do know one distressing thing about this UFO: within 3 months of the sighting, my prize Collie, Dannyboy died. He had started to just waste away immediately following the UFO sighting in August and died on November 13th. The vet was as baffled as I was by this and all efforts to discover the cause of his illness had been made to no avail.
I suppose that the emotional “intensity” of our “call” had increased after these events because I was so distressed by them and really was ASKING the universe for some answers! Whether this can play a part in such things I can’t say, I only mention it in passing.
The Cassiopaeans have things to say that do NOT generally mesh with what is given by the weekly “channel o’choice” as my friend Blue Resonant Human AKA Density4, describes them. And, it is interesting that several of the issues from the very first sessions in 1994 have become rather more “publicized” by the work of other researchers in the years since.
But there have been a number of notable results of this “superluminal” communication with “ourselves in the future.”
When my son, who is now 16, was born, he exhibited some peculiarly “adult” terrors and reactions to a number of things. I will not describe every detail, but, being involved in the work I have been for most of my adult life, I knew that this kid had something strange going on.
As I have already noted, even as a hypnotherapist I can’t say that I ever actually “believed” in reincarnation. I used to tell people that I “believe in nothing, I just assign probabilities.” As I have already said, I used past life therapy in my work because it WORKED, and not because I believed in it.
I will repeat that, from my point of view, if a person had to make up an elaborate past life scenario in their subconscious mind to escape from a labyrinth of emotional torment, fine with me!
When my son was old enough to start talking, he would tell me about his secret friend, “Janie,” and his black dog “Sam,” and his brothers. He is the only boy with four sisters.
One day when he was still in diapers, a big military transport plane flew overhead rather low and he began to jump up and down in excitement and point at it and informed me that he could fly such a plane! That this is what he “used to do in the war!”
Not long after this, he developed asthma in a BIG way – hospitalizations almost every week, drugs, oxygen, nebulizers, etc. He also began to have very bad nightmares. Soon, this very physically perfect child exhibited some problems running – he was dragging his left leg. The doctor said “Osgood Slaughter’s disease.”
I would see my son sitting on the ground in the shade while other kids were playing, and I would ask him why he wasn’t playing and he answered that his “back hurts.”
Naturally, I took him to numerous specialists, all of whom said that, except for the so-called “Osgood etc” and the asthma, he was perfectly normal.
The nightmares increased and I was at my wit’s end. When he turned nine, I decided that it was time to do a session. I had done all I could in the “accepted” ways; I needed the cavalry to come in.
I made the general and usual (for me) suggestion that he should “go to the point in space/time when problem began and describe to me what he is experiencing.”
He launched into a terrifying description of being at the helm of an airplane and being shot down. It was so traumatic that I immediately took him away from direct experience and had him view it on a “screen” at a distance. (This works for getting details where there is a lot of emotion involved).
The trauma was quite intense and I decided that it would be better to work on this one a little at a time, so we just dealt with part of the experience and I gave some “feel good” suggestions, and “healing” suggestions and that was that. This had been about three years before the Cassiopaean contact, and he DID have considerable relief from the asthma and nightmares, so we decided to just leave the issue alone for the time being unless and until more symptoms emerged and became unmanageable.
As a part of the “testing” phase of the contact, I decided to ask about any past life information for my son. I was the only one present who knew what he had told me under hypnosis and had never discussed his childhood remarks with anyone in the room, so I thought it would be a good test of the source. If the only information that could be obtained was what was in my mind or my son’s mind, that at least would demonstrate a form of telepathy.
So, I asked the C’s about my son’s physical problems. Their answer was “past life death trauma.”
I pressed for some details. To make a long story short, they gave a name, an airplane type, that he was flying a recon mission over Thailand, and was shot down by a SAM during the Viet Nam war. Then, they gave the dates of birth and death of the individual. They also said that in the half minute or so prior to death that my son’s leg had been blown off at the hip, his spine snapped in 17 places, and he breathed in fire from the exploding missile and that all of these effects were at the root of his present physical problems. A most definite “past-life death trauma,” as they say.
I really had no idea how to check any of this out, and was also so busy over the next few months that it slipped from my mind.
A friend read the transcript of this particular session, a Mr. Terry Rodemerk, a computer consultant who had begun to attend our channeling sessions regularly, and he asked me if I had ever checked out the name and dates. I told him no, and he asked if he might do so. Sure!
A few weeks later he produced a piece of paper on which was written the name, rank, place and date of birth and date of death of this very same name the C’s had given. He had gotten this information from the Viet Nam War Memorial Website. And it matched!
I was astonished, especially since the hometown of this individual was only about 150 miles from our home. Still, I did nothing. I mean, what do you do? Try to find a relative and call them and say “I think my son is your dead, departed, husband, father, brother or whatever?” Naaaah!
New Year’s came and I was clearing my desk and found the slip of paper. I wondered if there was anyway to confirm the MODE of death – i.e. the SAM – as an actual fact. So, I got the idea that it might have been written up in the news of that small town.
I called the newspaper there and inquired. I explained that I wanted to know how this individual died for a “research project on war heroes.” I was told that the files were so old that they were archived in boxes in a storage building. But, the woman suggested that I call the library, as they might have such copies that go that far back.
I called the library. There wasn’t much. The librarian found the name and dates of death and the little bit of information about where the burial took place and which funeral home handled the arrangements. All this was listed in the genealogy section. She then mentioned that “Oh, that funeral home is still in business. Maybe they would have a copy of the article.” (Thank God for small towns.)
She gave me the number of the funeral home and I called. A woman answered and I made my inquiry as to whether they would have a copy of the news article about the death of this named person. She asked me to wait a minute, and in a few seconds, a man’s voice came on and asked me WHY I wanted this information and WHO was it that wanted to know?
Well, I had not prepared a real story because I never imagined that I would be asked such a question. I did have sense enough to not mention anything about channeling, just that my son gave information about a former life which indicated that he might have been this person, and I mentioned that he had talked about his plane, his dog and brothers, and that he had been shot down by a SAM over Thailand.
The man said “My God! I can’t believe this!” He proceeded to tell me that he had been a friend of the deceased and had also handled his funeral and that there were LIVING relatives with whom he was still in contact, and would I mind if he called them and told them?
Well, this was getting a little out of hand and I didn’t really know what to say, but I suggested that he should be cautious in such a thing. He said: “I talk to his sister often and she is VERY open minded!” He then faxed me a copy of the news article which said that Captain K had crashed on take-off on a routine flight. This information was disappointing to me because the Cassiopaeans had said that a SAM had been responsible and my son had said under hypnosis that he had been shot down by a missile. But, just finding that the person actually existed, even if the details were not exactly correct was interesting, so I reserved judgment on that discrepancy for the moment.
An hour later my phone rang and a woman’s voice said: “I am Capt. K’s sister.”
Well, it was a funny conversation, but we agreed that we must meet.
There had been a journalist deeply involved in our lives for some time because he had heard me speak at a MUFON meeting and was interested in my story, and he DEFINITELY wanted to go on this excursion!
Arrangements were confirmed, and we made the trip. When we were all sitting together in the sister’s living room, with assorted other relatives gathered around, the sister, Ruth, asked Jason some questions. He told her about his “secret friend, Janie” and his memory of having brothers, and the dog, Sam.
Ruth produced a greeting card from a box of mementos and handed it to him. It was written to “Dear Janie…” and it turned out that the deceased’s secret, pet name for this sister, Ruth, had been “Janie.”
Next, she produced a photograph of the deceased with his 4 brothers, him holding the big, black, dog “Sam.”
But, the REAL surprise came a little later when the funeral director friend arrived to see my son. In front of all of us there he said: (And I am paraphrasing a little, but it is really burned in my memory, so will be pretty accurate.)
“I have been carrying a secret for 25 years and I am going to tell it to you all now. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. When K’s body arrived here with the military escort, I drove out to the airport to pick him up. I was a reservist at the time and went in uniform. I noticed that the casket was sealed, and I asked the escort if I could open it to prepare him for viewing. The guy told me I had better not because he was in BAD shape having been in the jungle for awhile before he was found. I mentioned that the report was that he crashed on take-off so why should it have taken so long to find him? The escort told me: ‘what I am going to tell you is between you and me, and if you ever repeat it, I will call you a liar. He was flying recon over Thailand and got shot down by a SAM. It took us two weeks to find him. You DON’T want to open that coffin!'”
Needless to say, ALL of us were silent for some minutes at this revelation. Then, the sister, Ruth, began to cry because she said: “All those years they blamed it on pilot error, that K crashed on take off and he DIDN’T! It wasn’t his fault.”
So, the Cassiopaeans were vindicated. And there is an interesting sidepiece to this: when my son was under hypnosis, just before the missile hit, he said: “My God! It’s one of ours!” I had no idea what this meant until after these events when I began to think about it more.
As I understand it, the U.S. Government was not supposed to be violating Thai airspace. Captain K was flying his last mission before his tour of duty was up. Could it be possible that his own government shot him down to conceal espionage activities?
There was a funny result of this series of incidents. I had to change my mind again. I now assigned a 98% probability to reincarnation!
And, as an aside, I understand that the sister of Captain K, Ruth, has written to her congressman to get his help un unsealing the records of this tragedy in order to clear her brother’s name of this “blemish” on his record.
Naturally, I didn’t expect such an outcome, but it is interesting to conjecture what might happen if a lot of folks overcome the “programming” of our society and begin to open up their “past life” memories. Governments might be more careful in how they act if they realized that their actions could be exposed in such a “timely” manner with full karmic implications!
What goes around, comes around!
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