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ZS2ABF > UFO 30.10.08 17:45l 486 Lines 26636 Bytes #999 (0) @ WW
BID : 090447ZS2ABF
Read: GUEST
Subj: UFO INTEREST GROUP 196A
Path: DB0FHN<DB0MRW<DK0WUE<7M3TJZ<HG8LXL<CX2SA<ZS0MEE<ZS0ELD
Sent: 081028/0809Z @:ZS0ELD.ELD.ZAF.AF #:14429 [14430] FBB7.01.35 alpha
From: ZS2ABF@ZS0ELD.ELD.ZAF.AF
To : UFO@WW
South African Ham Radio UFO Interest Group. Known as (SAHRUIG).
NEWS Volume 1 News letter No.196A
Don't forget to "LOOK UP TO THE SKIES" you may see something exiting.
Your Comments, Sightings or UFO/Paranormal stories will be welcomed and
are needed. When submitting Sighting reports please send as much detail as
possible.
Address them via Packet to ZS2ABF @ ZS0ELD.ECP.ZAF.AF
Posted to BBS : 28/10/2008
***** NOTE 1*****
I have a really good story for you in this issue. It is so big and involved
that I have split it into 2 newsletters 196A & 196B. Please ensure that you
read them both other wise it won't make sense.
*****NOTE 2*****
I only got six replies to my question, "Am I wasting my time putting out UFO
bulls." Six is not many when this bull goes out World Wide, therefore I think
I am wasting my time. Five of the replies said, carry on we enjoy. One said,
he thinks they are too long. If I cut them down there would not be much
content in them and I would also spend too much time sorting the info out.
On the brighter side I think this one is interesting.
*********** ************** **********
UFO - My Story And Families Encounters
The story I have to tell is utterly fantastic and I fully expect even you to
disbelieve it. It's a story that spans several generations of my family. This
story begins with my grandmothers' brothers over 90 years ago and continues
even today. Of my family, I alone have been the only person to piece this
story together from the stories told to me by other family members and by
their friends. I am the only member of my family who has actively pursued the
truth of what has been happening to us as most of my family is unwilling to
even discuss it.
To provide something in the way of context, I'm a fairly independent person.
I'm the type of person who has no problem with dining out alone or going to
see a film alone. Much of what I describe here has contributed to my sense of
independence. While this message does much to describe the general gist of my
experiences, there are things that I intentionally have left out, things I've
seen that I have not mentioned, details that I have excluded, circumstantial
evidence that I have not included. These decisions I've made were made because
this is the first time I've ever discussed this with anyone, because I do not
intend to sit here and write a book and because I believe that there are some
things that we're just not supposed to know just yet. Also, parts of this,
especially the end where I describe some of what I know, might be jumbled. For
this, I apologize. There's so much depth to this and most of it is so new that
it's difficult to communicate it.
- Lineage -
My Grandmother had 4 brothers, all of whom fought in World War 2. Back in the
day, families in her community (a small coastal community on the East Coast of
the USA) would hang one small American flag from their stoop for each family
member they had off fighting in the war. In all the county, her family had the
most as her four brothers flags were accompanied by her husbands flag.
Two of her brothers were pilots who were involved in bombing raids against
Nazi targets and two were in the Navy. Her husband, my Grandfather, was a SRGT
in the Army and all but one of her brothers were in the European Theater. Her
last brother, one of the two in the Navy, was in the Pacific. We'll call him
Jerry.
When Jerry was young, he was always getting involved in strange things. He
would wander off all day and lived a very active life. Just before he turned
18, his childhood brevity seemed to rapidly dissipate and he became withdrawn.
One of the things he started doing in the early 1940's, just before the US
entered the war, was sleeping with his light on. Before he shipped out for
boot camp, he confided in my Grandmother, telling her that she needed to keep
the lights on at night because of the "monsters that come late at night".
When war broke out, my Great-Grandfather left his job to work with the Army.
He was too old at the time to enlist but, there were plenty of administrative
positions with the Army for civilians and my Great-Grandfather wanted to be a
part of it. The position he took required him to relocate, leaving my
Grandmother and my Great-Grandmother alone in the family house. My Grandmother
respected her brother Jerry's request and left a lamp on in his bedroom the
entire time he was away.
Jerry was assigned to a warship in the Pacific and during his time in the
service, he slept with his light on. His shipmates teased him about it, which
he pawned off as a joke with them, telling them that he was afraid of Dracula
- most people back then having apparently had strong feelings about the
original black and white Dracula movie. Since his quarters were enclosed
without windows, he was allowed to get away with it. At one point, his light
being on grew into the ships "good luck charm" as all throughout the war, the
ship never took serious damage.
While Jerry was sleeping with the light on in the middle of a war zone, two of
his brothers were piloting bombers in Europe. According to both of them,
everything was as normal as war could be. One day, one of the brothers was
involved in what was a secret mission at the time to destroy a Nazi submarine
base by remotely piloting bombers packed with explosives directly into them.
During this raid, they successfully deployed the remotely controlled planes
which completely failed to break through the thick concrete structures of the
sub-bases. On the return flight, this brother saw his first "UFO". From that
point on, both brothers and countless other pilots saw what became known as
"foo-fighters". While I make no claim that they were involved in the first
sightings, I mean only to illustrate how the first of the brothers became
familiar with them.
For those who don't know, a foo-fighter was literally an unidentified aircraft
that flew, often in formation with, aircraft during the second world war. To
this day, no one has any idea what they were. ( Peter ZS2ABF: Allan Harbinson
in his book states that, they were part of the Germany experiments during
WWII)
The war eventually ended and my great-grandfather returned to his pre-war job.
All of the brothers and my grandfather returned home healthy and whole.
My grandmother and grandfather lived for a time in North Carolina before
returning to New York where they started their family.
My great-grandmother died before 1949 from a heart problem and my
great-grandfather died a few years later. All of the brothers except for one
married and had families.
The brother who didn't marry was one of the two brothers who were in the Navy,
we'll call him Steve. Steve wound up buying a small house out in the middle of
the woods where he spent his free time doing something that's far more common
these days: caring for injured animals and running a small shelter. Starting
in the late 1940's, Steve's brothers and sisters noticed him cradling his
right arm. Apparently he had something stuck under his skin. The brothers
thought it was just shrapnel but, he was never hit in the war and he refused
to ever have it looked at. He would disappear sometimes for days at a time
often leaving his home wide open and he would never be able to account for his
absences. In the late 1980's, after seeing a Star Wars film with him, he made
a comment to me that I didn't take as anything other than a joke until more
than a decade later. He said: "If they ("aliens", we were talking and joking
around about Yoda) ever stick anything in your skin, remember to leave it
alone." He died in the mid-1980's.
In the early 1950's, my grandmother and her three daughters were in the
backyard of their house that had an excellent view of a local water tower.
While hanging things on the line, they all noticed a large saucer shaped
object hovering over the water tower. They all took notice of it but, felt for
some reason that it was wholly unremarkable. My mother and one of her sisters
felt it was so unremarkable, so not news worthy, that they even went into the
house.
This saucer was supposedly huge. After spending a while hovering over the
water tower, it eventually moved off and out of sight. For my mother and her
sisters, this water tower became a place where they would go and spend a lot
of time after that.
Not long after this, my mothers youngest sister began talking about her new
friend who she would call "the Ha-Chacha". He lived on the part of the roof
that was outside her second story bedroom window and when he wanted to play,
he would walk through the window, take her by the hand and they'd fly through
the roof together. She called him "the Ha-Chacha" because that's the noise he
would make.
This Aunt would be visited by the Ha-Chacha throughout her childhood and,
about 18 years ago, she told my youngest sister (who was little at the time)
that he still comes and talks to her. For us, the Ha-Chacha was just something
that we thought was an imaginary friend that my Aunt made-up as a way of
relating to my sisters and I when we were young. It wasn't until years later
that my mother told us that the Ha-Chacha is something that this Aunt has been
talking about since she was 4. Apparently the Ha-Chacha was pale, with large
dark eyes and was deathly thin. He also carried a board with him that he would
touch with his fingers - something that I thought about when I bought my first
tablet pc.
Growing up, my mother and her sisters were often afraid at night and would
cower beneath the covers too terrified to stick their heads out. They would
spend all their free time at the base of the water tower with friends who they
can't remember, who they couldn't remember 20 years ago. My mothers cousin,
who we're going to call Nancy, would join them.
My grandfather had a difficult time putting the war behind him. The things he
saw in the war haunted him until the day he died and when they were young, my
mother and her sisters remember having to hide upstairs when "the men" came
over. They would shine bright headlights into the first floor of the house so
it was all lit up and my grandfather would stand in the living room arguing
with them, often shouting at them to leave. The eldest of my Aunts, not the
Ha-Chacha aunt, once crept down the stairs to see what the men looked like and
after seeing them, she never told anyone what they looked like. She would tell
my mother and my other Aunt that she's not allowed to tell. While speaking to
my mother about it several years ago, I asked her how someone could have shone
their headlights in through the windows of the first story of the house and
she didn't understand how it was possible either.
Jerry lived a productive life after the war. He returned to open a very
successful commercial and residential construction business with one of the
two brothers who was a pilot in the war, who we'll call Lee. Jerry continued
to sleep with the light on. Jerry seemed to be a tortured man at times,
though. Jerry had a child, a son, and we weren't really close with them when I
was growing up. After Jerry died, his son and I got together for drinks one
night. This cousin of mine immediately started talking about UFO's and aliens
and what he described as strange doctors and how his father and he used to see
things all the time when he was young. This conversation, the exact details of
which would take too long to communicate, is what sparked my interest in
piecing together the family's story because I have had experiences of my own
that I simply can't rationally explain.
My mother married my father after he got out of the Air Force. Right out of
the Air Force, my father joined the FAA, leveraging his experience as an air
traffic controller both in Viet Nam and domestically with the Air Force to
solidify his application. While stationed in Maine, "UFO's" were a common
thing and they would get constant reports of activity, see activity on their
own and detect activity on their instruments. All of these weird things, no
one in the family ever thought any of it was a big deal or a topic for
discussion.
- My Story Begins -
My parents had three children. Of them, I am the oldest and the only son. I
have two sisters, Kara and Leah. Leah is the older sister.
At a young age, perhaps about 5 or 6 years old, I clearly remember playing
with a toy in my bedroom only to see the toy levitate over my head and come to
rest on the floor behind me. I remember turning around in awe of it and seeing
a small humanoid figure. An instant later, I remember waking up in my bed.
That was the first weird thing I experienced.
My bedroom was on the first floor of the house and I remember laying awake at
night and knowing I wasn't alone in the room. I remember knowing I had to
close my eyes and go to sleep and I would clench my eyes closed tight, lie
totally still and would immediately wake up to it being the next morning. I
knew that when I was taken, it wasn't going to be bad.
A Turn for the Worse
When I was a few years older, I was looking out at the night sky from the back
door of the house. It must have been winter time because the trees were bare
and the night sky was perfectly clear. Above the tree line, moving from north
to south, I saw something that burned itself in my memory forever. A perfectly
round object - like a coin - that was milky white and trailing flame (it all
looked cartoonish, unreal, like the flame it was trailing wasn't really flame)
moved above the tree line in the back yard and disappeared out of sight. The
object was slow moving as an aircraft and had no marking lights like a normal
aircraft would have and it was large enough where if I held up a penny in my
line of sight, it would have been the same size only, of course, because it
was far away.
I immediately screamed and started crying and felt an overwhelming fear and
the object returned, only this time flying from the south to the east and
gaining altitude rapidly. This marked a whole new area, it marked when I
started really paying attention to the world around me.
From that moment on, I would pay a lot of attention to time and would note
when I would be missing time. It happened quite often and sometimes seeing
things, seemingly random things would spark hazy memories. I was afraid of
these memories of ships and rooms and strange looking beings.
- Identifying Them -
As for the beings, there were five distinct types that I knew...
1. Small, perhaps 3 foot tall beings with three fingered hands, large black
eyes with no mouths and greyish or maybe greenish skin who would speak into my
mind by staring at my eyes.
2. Small, perhaps 3.5-foot tall beings with three fingered hands, large black
eyes but who had mouths and greyish or maybe greenish skin and who would speak
with voices.
3. Beings that were between 5'2" - 5'8" tall, four fingers and large black
eyes who would speak with voices but whose skin was murky and pale.
4. Beings who were about 6 or so feet tall, maybe a little taller, with
greyish milky grey skin and big black eyes who would speak into my mind; these
seemed to be the leaders or the highest rank or perhaps the bosses.
5. Beings much like the stated 4th type only more insectoid in that they had
more of a pointed face that seemed structurally more mantis than human and
serrations on the outer bits of their forearms. this type was generally
disliked and never communicated and felt bad, very bad, to be around.
I've wondered if the type 1's turn into the type 2's who turn into the type
3's who turn into the type 4's but, I've got nothing to support that idea and
as far as I know I never asked. I do know that the type 5's are not related,
directly or indirectly, to the other types. They "come from someplace else".
Being Taken
Most of my related memories started when I was a Junior in High School.. By
this time, there was something in my right knee below the skin, something that
tissue surrounded itself with. I knew I wasn't supposed to touch it. I would
experience missing time - sometimes 30 minutes, sometimes hours - regularly -
weekly in some cases. There was a place that I felt drawn to, that I knew I
had to go to. It was a dark, unpaved road surrounded by salt marsh and trees.
There were times when I went there with other people who I knew, who weren't
involved, and those people would get terrified and would never return to this
place.
I would spot things in the sky all the time. I would see objects shaped like
cigars with blue lights at the ends and yellow and red lights in the middle,
things that looked like large dark triangles, orbs the size of a van. Lights
were shone through my windows that lit the room up red or blue or green or
white or amber.
Hazy memories sparked by interacting with things like scissors, a vase, a jar
of peanut butter, spoons and a power drill would flash fragments of memories
of these encounters involving pain and fear. I knew what was happening to me,
I also knew it was forbidden to think about it.
They would come for me usually at night. I would know that I would have to go
somewhere to meet them. Other times, they would take me from my home. They
took me on a camping trip once, from a swimming pool one evening and even once
on Christmas Eve.
They used fear to manage, for control. When in their presence, I was the slave
and they were the masters. Resistance meant nothing, nothing but compliance
and submission mattered.
Defiance
In the summer between High School and College, just before leaving for
college, I took a razor to my knee and cut the skin (which was more of a lump
and was able to remove a lump. At the center of the lump was a small black
spec about two millimeters across. It was flat and black and was encased in a
pod of tissue that was about the size of a small caper. This object was
generally circular except for one edge of it, which features two tiny point
like protrusions on the side of a small circular protrusion. The object was
metal or something at least as strong and I disposed of it by throwing it in
the rain gutter in the street. The next day I went off to college. I knew I
had to get rid of it to get rid of Them.
I went to college and travelled the world and experienced nothing for a long
time, perhaps six years. I began being very curious about my experiences. I
knew that they really weren't good and I knew that removing the object from my
knee was a very bad thing to do. But I felt I needed to know more. So I
studied meditation and other relaxation techniques, I began thought exercises
hoping to in some way sharpen my mind. I became very interested in the
structure of things, always hoping to find something that would spark a
memory. And to some extent it worked but, I didn't feel comfortable with the
idea of sharing any of this with anyone or trying out hypnotic regression
performed by someone else. I thought that maybe I could induce myself into
such a state but, never really succeeded.
I spent over a year in Europe, more than six months in Latin America and a
year in Asia. I learned everything I could about mental discipline and found
that exploring subjects such as physics, evolutionary biology, zoology,
chemistry and other core sciences, mastering them and learning to use that
knowledge to analyse things in abstract ways was a tremendously useful way to
hone the way my mind worked and to help me determine what, exactly, I was
experiencing.
Then one day, I noticed the lump on my right knee was back in exactly the same
spot (as far as I could tell). This time I was a bit older and wiser and had a
friend of mine who was a nurse remove the thing. The object she found was
identical to the object that I previously removed myself. After disposing of
it, I moved to a new apartment. When she asked what it was, I assured her that
it must have dug it's way into my knee when I was working around the house.
Time passed. I had gathered a wide collection of strange stories involving the
unknown and family members and without that thing in my leg, I didn't think
they could find me. I moved around a lot, moving to a new apartment every
year, replacing cars every year or every other year. Then in the second
quarter of 2006, I was sent on a trip to Boston for business.
Renewed Aggression
I left from LaGuardia in New York on a red eye to Logan. Not long after I
landed, my mother called to tell me that a friend of mine, Brock, had stopped
by the house looking for me. She said he was very polite and that she wanted
to let me know that he was looking for me. I thanked her and promised I would
call him but, I've never known anyone named Brock.
I thought it was odd but didn't think much of it. As I waited at the curb for
the car service, I noticed a tall man dressed in a dark suit and what I think
is called a bowler or baller hat standing down near the taxi queue. He was
leading against a sign and staring at me. Something about him was familiar
but, I couldn't make out his face and something about him was terrifying. I
knew I was not safe knowing that he was there, knowing that he knew where I
was. My car arrived as this man took a step towards me and although he was a
few dozen yards away, I jumped in the car and locked the door behind me. As
the car pulled past him, this man with his incredibly dark eyes stared at me
as we drove past him.
I felt unnerved throughout the day as I sat in meetings and provided training
to coworkers. My phone, which my company provides me, was called by an
"unknown" caller over a dozen times. Each time, no message was left. I felt
like I was being watched all day and as afternoon crept in, I began feeling a
sense of dread at the thought of returning to Logan for the flight home.
That evening, the car service came and dropped me off at the airport. I stood
at the curb, looking for that strange man who saw me that morning. I knew he
was there, I could feel that he was there. I knew that I was in danger. But
what was I supposed to do? I needed to get on that airplane and, if nothing
else, I had learned by that point in my life that you had to face your fears
and that sometimes terrible things were inevitable.
So even though I felt like I was on the verge of panic, I choked it down and
entered the terminal. And sure enough, there he was. He was leaning against
the wall near bathrooms off to my right. He was a lot closer to me this time,
so close in fact that I could see his lipless mouth contort into a smile. And
then he started walking towards me.
I didn't run. I could move but, I chose not to. I knew that whatever was going
to happen was going to be bad but, I wasn't going to run from it. I had been
tormented for years by terrible, terrible things but, when I dug that first
thing out of my knee I had decided that I was not going to take it anymore.
These encounters literally sent me on the run, sent me into what some might
say was hiding. I was constantly on the move because of the experiences I had
and however much I was shaking, I was at least equally angry.
As the figure drew closer, I felt a cold, gripping chill run down my spin. I
felt like my mind was in a clamp and that thought had become an impossibility.
But there was a tug at my arm and I felt myself being pulled away from the
approaching man and as I was being pulled away, the approaching man stopped
and only watched.
As I was lead out the door, I turned and saw two figures, a man and a woman
dressed casually. The woman was wearing a Boston College sweatshirt. She stood
just over 5 feet tall and had shoulder length blond hair. Exceptionally
attractive but, I could tell that there was something different about her. The
man was dressed in big jacket and blue jeans and I felt safe with them and was
about the same height as me but, broader in the shoulders. He had brown hair
and intense brown eyes.
The woman stayed behind in the terminal as the man lead me down the sidewalk
to a waiting car. He seemed to be totally at ease and told me that I should
consider answering my phone when it rings. He told me that everything is
alright, that I don't need to worry about anything and that I would be taking
a car back to New York.
The car I was placed in was a 1989 Chevy Celebrity Eurosport. I clearly
remember it because my mother had one when I was a teenager only hers was a
different color. I sat in back seat on the passenger side and the car pulled
away.
The driver was similarly dressed to the man and the woman. He drove off
without instruction. On the ride down I-95, the driver spoke about how
sometimes people get caught up in things, about how you never know who you'll
wind up getting involved with and how I don't have anything to worry about.. I
felt exhausted and... well, I didn't have the presence of mind to even ask any
questions. I felt stunned in a way, numb, non-functional. About 5 hours later,
the driver pulled over next to Penn Station in Manhattan. The driver told me
that I was to go into the station and get on the midnight train to [the train
station near my home]. I complied.
***To be continued in part 196B. Read to found out the rest of the story***
*********** ************** **********
This document is shared information that is intended to assist anyone and
everyone with a further understanding of UFO information from around the
world.
Our usual thanks go to Brian Vike for his Canadian contribution.
73's and Bye from Peter ZS2ABF - East London, South Africa.
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