Spring 1939 or 1940
From Chapter Seven of the book Eminent Discovery – Volume 1
I stood on the sidewalk, longing to pick the neighbor’s flowers. I had picked them the day before and had, as a consequence, been confined inside our house by my mother. She wanted to impress upon me that one does not pick someone else’s flowers. Like any other two or three year old, I began to develop my anger; I thought she unfairly punished me. It seemed to me the flowers grew simply for the purpose of picking. Their brilliant colors always seemed to fascinated me, to the point where I couldn’t leave them alone.
I turned and saw my mother watching through the screen door from across the street. My punishment had been severe enough, I knew: Should I moved toward the flowers, I’d be in trouble again. I turned back and suddenly saw three or four small discs bobbing and weaving low to the ground in our neighbors back yard. I got puzzled because I didn’t remember seeing anything like it before.
My mother suddenly approached me and asked me if I might be thinking about the flowers. I thought, “Oh no. Am I in trouble again for just thinking about the flowers?” When she saw the discs, she gasped for air. About this time a neighbor lady and her young son approached us. We talked about the discs for some time.
I was likely two years old, considering that most of us go through that infamous period of the terrible twos. Even though I had already experienced several encounters, I didn’t remember them – neither did my mother. I had already gotten into trouble many times, even before, during and after a few bizarre encounters with the strange craft and objects.
We lived on the outskirts of town, at 68th and Garland Streets. At this time, Garland Street was little more than a set of trolley tracks used to carry people from the suburb of Bethany into the heart of downtown Lincoln.
The experience that was about to occur became one of the most significant of all my encounters. As far as I can remember, this was the first time I encountered one of the small human-like lizards.
Standing and talking about the strange little discs, we saw a booth manifest from hissing fog on the trolley tracks beside the yard. The booth had circus decorations on it and we heard circus music as the booth materialized. Then, suddenly, we all heard a voice that sounded like a barker at a circus. As the music continued to play in the background, he encouraged all to gather around for “eternal knowledge and wisdom – Indians and buffalo,” etc. It was as if there were many people around us, but, again, we saw no one but ourselves. When we walked up close, I saw fog hissing from tiny pin-points in the air around the booth. I got somewhat disoriented by the sight of it and I believe the others did also.
There really was a circus in town, so my mother, at first, thought this might be an advertizing stunt to get people to attend the circus. After a while it became obvious it was not. The voice was very persuasive and my mother and the other lady seemed to be so controlled in some strange way, they allowed the other young boy and I to enter the booth. I imagined what it might be like to attend a circus (which, by the way, we actually might have, a few days later).
The voice talked with us personally about what we thought of the experience. We didn’t really know what to think, but talked about it for a time. We then got startled when we suddenly heard music, the William Tell Overture. (Of course we weren’t aware of the composition’s title before this time). The voice asked us what we thought about the “classical music.” It seemed puzzling that he would make us listen to classical music. It was more exciting than the circus music, otherwise we, again, didn’t really know what to think. The voice asked us if we wanted to go up and see a craft that was above us. After we begged our mothers to go, they gave their permission for us to ascend upward to a very large object that hovered about 60 feet above in the fog laden atmosphere.
As we mysteriously ascended through the top of the booth, which was open, the voice warned us about the overhanging branches of trees that bordered the trolley tracks. I at first felt frightened and strange, but when the voice talked with me, I began to settle down a little. As I arrived at the craft, another voice greeted the other boy and me. He then tried to coax us to the front of the craft. But I got very curious about the back. It was partially shrouded by clouds of dense fog. The original voice talked about the large body of the craft and encouraged me to go closer. I moved toward the large body as the second voice continued to call me forward. It seemed as if they, whoever they were, had conflicting plans.
When I arrived at the side of the back of the craft, I noticed it was rounded and very large, with a flat bottom and domed roof. I saw what appeared to be a large round black bumper attached to and extending around the outer perimeter. The voice strangely mentioned that the bumper appeared similar to that of a bumper car at a carnival. We talked about bumper cars for a time. Intrigued by what he said to me, I moved up close to inspect the surface of the craft more closely.
The entire surface appeared seamless, made of what I now know might have been something similar to anodized aluminum. I suddenly heard the voice explain something about the process of anodizing metal. This seemed strange. I was so young, I wasn’t really interested. But it seemed he thought my knowing the technical details would be important. He then said if humans had built the craft, it would have rivets and seams. I got astonished and very confused when my vision suddenly distorted and I saw rivets and seams appear on the craft. He then explained that airplanes were presently being built with rivets and seams and that humans would learn to build airplanes without them. I didn’t really know why, but it seemed more than important to him.
After a short time, the voice at the front was able to convince me I should move toward him. When I arrived at what seemed to be a protruding fuselage that looked like a present-day futuristic airplane, I notice the voice was a middle-aged man dressed in street cloths. The other young boy was near him at an open door on the south side of the fuselage. It seemed so strange to see both of them suspended in mid air. The man and boy appeared to fade in and out of view from time to time. The door appeared similar to that of an airliner and neither the fuselage nor the door faded from view.
About this time, someone else, a third voice, urged and coaxed me to come to a small cloud that hung off a short distance away from the craft.
(You already know it was very difficult for me to recall some experiences, because they were so traumatic. This confrontation with the third voice was one of those episodes. When I first recalled experiences like this, I refused to brave my original thoughts and emotional reactions, because I subconsciously anticipated the pain. Only recently, some 11 years later, have I been able to face more than just the simple sequential activity of some experiences. I believe researchers should be sensitive to this when they confront UFO experiencers.)
When I arrived, the cloud still blocking my view of him, he began to joke with me and tease me. I suddenly became afraid, but followed his instructions, just as I always (roughly) had followed my mother’s.
At one point, he told me: “We are here to change humankind and the way we do it is to enlist help from people like yourself.” He urged me to commit myself to help them.
I remember not trusting him. The way he put it frightened me and I wondered who they and he were. Everything seemed so strange, the thought of me helping someone of whom I new nothing repulsed me. This might have been because he also told me some people didn’t like change and they would have to be coerced, through our somewhat clandestine activities. The words weren’t exactly the same, but the ideas were. The idea was that we would have to fool some people because they resisted change. At my young age of two or three I somehow felt more mature; I thought if I helped them, I might betray my family and friends. He had even talked about my folks, my sisters and my aunts and uncles for a time. He indicated we even would have to fool them.
Somewhat irritated, as if the voice was interfering in his plans, the middle-aged man then insisted I join him at the door. Ignoring the man, the voice asked if I would like to see him. He told me some people were frightened by the sight of him, but that I should look at him so I could get use to him. I said no, but the fog suddenly moved away. I got extremely startled by the sight of him, particularly his long head, sharp teeth and claws. He looked similar to a small lizard or alligator. He floated upright and was about as tall as me. As I moved quickly toward the middle-aged man, I heard the lizard/alligator man laugh at me.
The middle-aged man then escorted the other young boy and I into the pilots compartment of the large craft. We soon saw what appeared to be a large door, like a garage door, in the wall that separated the fuselage from the larger rounded body. We asked to go in, but he informed us we could see it some other time.
We also saw two very large vertically elongated windows at the front. They were curved at the top, forming a perfect arch. The man told us to look at the beautiful clouds hanging just outside of the windows. I turned and saw small clouds extending away to the east at least one-half block; they indeed appeared beautiful. The clouds and fog were so thick, I couldn’t see the ground. Yet, I could see the roofs of houses. He then said the clouds and fog were used to screen off their activities from on-lookers, to hide them, the craft and us from those people who were not involved. (In other words, they, whoever they truly were, were fooling some people.)
We saw two comfortable seats positioned in front of the windows. They appeared to be pilot’s seats. After we asked him if we could sit in the seats, he made us stand along the north wall and wait for what seemed to be a very long time. As I recall, this was partly to allow some time for us to settle down. We had gotten extremely excited because, as far as we knew, we had never been in a craft and we could hardly wait to sit in the pilot’s seats. We got very impatient during this period. What was happening seemed somewhat peculiar, yet at my young age everything around us seemed natural and at least somewhat normal.
The man eventually allowed us to sit in the seats. We played with some levers that were located on either side and in between the seats. I saw no other gages or controls of any kind.
Suddenly, I got startled by the manifestation of a small mass of spinning fog that developed about three feet in front of me. The fog eventually began to dissipate and I saw a pipe stand sitting on the floor. It had pipes and tobacco on it. I also saw a pack of cigarettes, eye glasses and a syringe. The man behind us told us: “Humankind will learn to live without these things within your lifetime.”
Confused, I really didn’t know what to make of it. I wondered how he could know. I knew my folks smoked and wore glasses, but I didn’t know anything about the syringe, until the man explained how some people used it for dope. I was still confused, but got the general idea. The pipe stand faded away.
The man then instructed us to sit quietly and listen to music from what appeared to be a record player built into the south wall. It was secured behind glass doors. I remember dreading that we had to sit there and simply listen to music. We sat for the longest time listening to classical music. The man explained something about the benefits of classical music, but I can’t recall exactly what he said. He said it would help us in some way and that we should listen to it as often as we could. I finally got impatient and went to the door.
My mother apparently saw me, because I heard her call that it was time for us to return to the ground. I also heard my father approach her, as if he had just returned home from work. But I didn’t want to leave. I asked the man if we could stay. He informed me the decision was up to our mothers.
I asked again and she and the other mother again insisted that we return to the ground. I felt myself somewhat slowly lower to a position just beside my mother and father. They stood on the other side of the trolley tracks, in the middle of 68th street. I noticed the other boy had also come down. Then the other father walked up as if he, too, had just returned home from work. He greeted his wife and son, then we all just stood there looking up, discussing the strange large craft, which still hovered across the intersection. We all looked and saw the booth in light haze still sitting on the trolley tracks several yards away.
Then, very strangely, my mother told us it was about time for supper. We bid the other family goodbye, turned and walked into our house, leaving the bizarre objects fully visible to anyone who might have been passing by at the time. Again, I experienced that same feeling of unfulfillment.