SUBJECT: THE RECALL FILE: UFO2649
First, before I go into detail about my 1988 experience I want to thank
all of you for your interest and possible support. I hope I don't
disappoint any of you.
As I mentioned at the onset of my threads, understanding where I am
coming from is an essential element to how you may look at the
submission of facts and that is why I uploaded "The Recall" and why I
listed the stories I have written along with their copyright dates.
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My incident took place roughly three months after writing "Sayo"
which was about my second OBE or Astral flight. And, by this time felt
positively convinced, beyond any doubt, that what I was experiencing
was *REAL.*
Also by this time I had listened to John Lear speak on a late night
radio talk show on numerous occasions and though I somehow knew that
much of what he said was true, I rapidly got sick and tired of him
always saying the same thing. "If you see a flying saucer, run for your
life." So tired that on several occasions I tried to call the Las Vegas
station using their 800 number. I never got through and finally gave up
trying. I also quit listening to the show.
The night the tribulation happened was on my first night off and had
gone to bed early since I wasn't actively working on any writing. At
roughly 1:30 a.m, September 13, 1988, I woke up and at first I thought
someone had called my name. Which would have been impossible since I
live alone. Anyway, whatever caused my waking did so in such away that
further sleep was impossible. This being the case I got up and went
into my front room thinking that since I was up, maybe I should do some
more writing.
True, I wasn't working on anything important but I did have another
novel in progress. I hadn't gotten beyond chapter three and for me this
was very unusual. Before this, when the urge to write hit, the words
nearly jumped onto the screen.
Instead of turning on the computer, I turned on the radio and the
first voice I heard was Art Bell talking to his guest, John Lear.
At this point I wanted to turn the radio off, but I couldn't. An
inner force, forced me to sit down and listen and I endured his
comments. That night he was speaking about the vortex at Blue Diamond,
saying that this was one of the points that the UFOs enter our
dimension. This too, was old hat but the topic quickly changed when one
of the callers asked about Area 51. That did it. Area 51 and the
government coverup was John's favorite topic and he went into his
normal squeal saying, "Run for your life."
That did it for me, too. I picked up the telephone and dialed the 800
number even though I honestly never thought I would get in. But I did.
Art answered the call on the first ring and when he asked me if I
wanted to talk to John, I nearly panicked. Everything I planned on
saying during all the other attempts vanished from my mind and I found
myself almost speechless. I should have remained that way. I managed to
tell John I though he was full of it. (I believe I used the correct
four-letter word, too) Naturally, he wanted to know what I meant so I
told him.
Talk about a disaster.
John wouldn't have anything to do with my idea that there were
hundreds, perhaps thousands of Incarnates walking on the planet who
came from the stars. He wasn't bending an inch and kept insisting only
bad aliens visited the Earth.
But he did ask me why I thought this. What could I do? As I mentioned
by this time, I fully believed what I was writing as truth so I told
him that I myself, might even be one. For that I got a quick laugh and
a quicker, disconnect. And, as expected, for the next fifteen or so
minutes the calls went something like:
'Who was that nut up at Tahoe.'
'Somebody better get the guys in white coats up there before he does
some damage.' Etc. Turning off the radio I went back to bed and
immediately dropped off to sleep. I woke just as suddenly but I wasn't
in my bed.
At first I didn't know where I was because I couldn't see anything
because a tremendously bright light shown down on my body. It felt so
close, I could feel the heat it radiated and at the time I felt certain
the light would actually burn me.
I'm not sure, but at that point I must have screamed because that's
when I got my first glimpse of one of the beings. But it was only a
shadow and I knew right away I didn't want to be where I was. Without
anyone saying anything, the light gradually dimmed as it rose and as it
did, several other figures closed in. This time I could see them. I
have no doubt at all that I screamed when this happened. I also tried
to move, to get off the bunk, bed, or whatever I was on, but I
couldn't. I couldn't move anything except my head and I could only move
that, sideways.
"You have been a bad boy, Jack." I wanted to know who said that. The
thing standing at my side couldn't have. He didn't have a mouth and the
only thing I saw on his swollen head was large black eyes. The only way
I can describe those eyes is to say they appeared fathomless. They
reminded me of the eye's of a deer I shot on my one and only hunting
trip.
[Note. At this point in time I hadn't read or even heard of Strieber's
book, Communion. The only book I had read dealing with any aliens was
"Light Speed," and it referred to Meier's experiences in dealing with
the race who came from the Plaiedes.] When I realized that the voice I
heard wasn't really a voice but only a feeling -- [like one gets when
reading to oneself or silently talking to oneself] -- I knew
instinctively the words came telepathically. The knowledge didn't help.
If anything, it frightened me even more because my only other
telepathic thought transference was through whom I called Ya.
By this time the bright light faded enough for me to see the room and
the other creatures. And, creature's was the only word to describe the
things moving about the low table I lay on. None of them stood over
four feet tall and most stood only about three feet tall. I counted
five or six of these beings. The only thing any of them had in common
was their big swollen heads, big eyes and grayish skin. The character
standing next to me was the most human-like because he was the only one
that had four fingers and a thumb on each hand. The others had only two
or three fingers. They all wore the same thing, a one piece suit. It
consisted of boots and gloves and had they not been in different colors
I could have said they weren't clothes but merely part of their bodies.
Talk about wearing something that was skin tight.
The room I was in, wasn't what I expected considering the
circumstances. Being abducted by space aliens, and I knew I was, would
normally mean being taken aboard a UFO. But I knew I wasn't on a ship
of any kind because the walls were rock and they extended at least
fifteen feet in one direction and ten feet in the other. The walls
appeared grainy. Not that I ever got to see much because various pieces
of strange equipment filled the room. The wall closest to me looked
like it had a mirror on it, a mirror that must have been five feet wide
and at least three feet high.
How I took all this in, I don't know because since I first woke, the
voice kept saying the same thing, that I was a bad boy. I guess my mind
finally reflected on this and must've sent out the standard question:
why?
"Because you have been told never to talk about us."
This statement shocked me. I didn't know what he, or they, or
whoever, was talking about. I hadn't talked about them.
"You were told you could write about us." Now I really felt panicked
but I also felt a strange feeling of relief. I stopped all efforts at
praying for help and though I knew it was illogical, I felt my body
relaxing. So much, I managed to say something. I asked the creature if
he meant we had met before and he told me yes, many times.
When, why, how?
I felt I didn't believe him but again the normal reflexes, the desire
to run, to get away, remained out of my reach even when they told me
that they couldn't tell me why or how. At this point, however, they
proceeded to show me when.
That is when I discovered the mirror wasn't a mirror because it sorta
devolved and I looked at an image from my distant past. I saw myself
walking along a dirt road that ran along side a wide creek and I
instantly recognized the place. I was roughly two miles above a dam on
Cache creek. And, though I had been there many times, I couldn't
remember this incident.
Normally when I went there, I went there to fish but when I saw
myself I wasn't carrying a fishing pole. When the image pulled in
enough for me to see myself better I noticed my nose was bleeding.
Seeing this, pained me and the being by my side must have noticed
because he assured me everything was okay and that soon, I would
understand.
It lied. I didn't understand and it wasn't until months later the
significance of the even surfaced.
I must have still been questioning things because the voice told me
to pay attention to the screen. That they would prove we had met
before.
The image changed and this time when I saw myself I was inside a room
that had curving walls. I lay on a low table. I was also naked and I
could see other beings touching me. One creature was holding a strange
device and sticking it in my left leg. Oddly, watching the event didn't
bother me. My emotions, like my body, seemed paralyzed. When the
creature finished what he was doing I saw three small holes on my leg.
Surprisingly, there wasn't any blood.
At this point the creature told me they could prove I had been with
them before and he proceeded to do just that when he said, "Look at
your leg, Jack."
Since I felt paralyzed I didn't think I could but right after the
command came I discovered I could move. Sure enough, though the
indentions were not as obvious now I was able to see the three holes in
the exact place the image on the wall showed them.
I must have asked the same questions I did before because they told
me this too, would eventually return to my memory.
After that I don't know what happened. I got the impression they were
going to tell me something but instead I seemed to have gone back to
sleep or blacked out and I woke up back in my bed.
Since it was almost one in the afternoon I wondered if I had I merely
dreamed it?
I didn't think so because when I closed my eyes the ugly faces
appeared in my mind. Often, during the next three weeks, I even saw
those black eyes staring at me with my eyes open.
I also quit writing. The novel I had started, I tore to shreds and I
even seriously thought of destroying all the stories I had written.
Oddly, I couldn't and a few months later the being I called Ya, again
spoke into my mind. Her question, startled me. "Do you believe now?"
I didn't want to respond. I didn't want to believe. If I did, I would
have to believe that what my mind was and had been telling me since the
ordeal, was true. That whom I called the Greys, were right and
everything I experienced, my out of body experiences, my stories, all
concerned them. Worse yet, it confirmed that what John Lear said, was
true.
"No, Kontor." Ya said, using the name they pinned on me during my
first experience. "That isn't the way it is. What you are writing is
true. So is what you recently experienced. Don't worry, it will never
happen again."
Since that time a few of the Greys predictions have come true. I have
remembered the incident involving my bleeding nose and though I have
never yet been able to recall anything about my previous abductions, I
do remember how I got the scars on my leg.
But I also know that what my mind remembers about the scars, are not
true. The way I remember it I used to play cowboys and indians with a
friend of mine. I always played the part of the cowboy and he always
played the indian. And, as it was in some real life episodes, the
indian always won the battles. Now, this in itself doesn't seem strange
and it doesn't explain the scars. That's the funny part. While we
played our games it seems like we liked to play realistically. I used a
Daisy, BB pistol and John, my friend, used darts. As I said, this is
only what my mind tells me about the scars on my leg. What it doesn't
explain is how I could be so stupid to play such a game nor why the
wounds never got infected.
My bleeding nose isn't as clear but I do remember refusing to go see
a doctor when I got home. I told my mother I must have done it to
myself by picking my nose. Thankfully, [I guess] she believed me. Had I
seen a doctor I feel certain he would have discovered I hadn't
inflicted the damage. I felt certain that even back in the 1950's the
doctor would have been able to determine that something a foreign
object entered my head through my nasal passage.
Well, gang, that is my story. Could it have happened?
___Jack___
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