Many nights I go outside of my home into the yard where I look up through the clear, crisp, desert night, to look at the bright stars and wonder. Sometimes I am reminded of nights similar to these when I stood upon the high plateau of Glastonbury Tor in England, looking at stars so bright you could almost reach out and grab a handful of them, and almost relive the legends of CAmelot and Arthur the King. When I think back, I remember the pleasant times and joy that was once a part of my experiences in England, and with my family. As I think back on it all I also remember the pain that was caused me during that time.
For those of you who are reading this story, many of you may read it and look upon it as a science-fiction story. Many of you may be able to recognize the truths. For now let's say that it is a fiction. People seem to be able to accept fiction over fact because sometimes the fact over-shadows the fiction in such a way that the fiction sounds more realistic than the fact. This is such a case.
What I am about to present to you is a true story. I know it is true because I have lived it. It is my story, and although I present it as fiction it is fact. I have also acknowledged the fact that the material I viewed may perhaps have been fraudulent. But what I have been forced to live through is not.
Several of the names used in this book have been changed. This is not to protect the innocent, but rather, to protect myself from possible litigation. Many of the names have not been changed, these are the heros of the story and are in fact living human beings who are or who have been currently investigating the facts concerning UFO's and related subjects. To them I say the following:
If I have taken liberties, it is not out of malice toward you, but more admiration. It is because of your efforts in the research fields that I have finally been able to present this story to the public in order that they, the readers, can form their own opinions and beliefs concerning the material that I am about to present. All of you have my admiration, and my thanks. Even those who have disagreed with me personally. Your efforts to discredit me have spurred me on farther and harder than any of my friends. I admire your adherence to your ethics, and encourage you to keep doubting, and to keep hunting for the truth. In the end it can benefit all of us who desire to know the truth.
William S. English
Part 1. "On the design of generators to
accomplish strain free molecular translation".
Part 2, The generation of space time discontinuims,closed, opened and folded".
Part 3, on the generation of temporary pseudo acceleration locas".
Part 1, Chapter 1, "design criteria for a simple generator and control system referring to equation 17 appendix A".
Part 2, Chapter 1,"Continuation of Einstein's Theory of Relativity to final conclusion".
Part 3, Chapter 1, "Possible applications of Einstein's theory of relativity at conclusion".
Part 1,Chapter 2, reports of UFO encounters, classifications "Close Encounters of the 1st Kind",subtitle sightings and witnesses.
Part 2, chapter 2,"Close Encounters of the 2nd", subtitle UFO sightings witnessed within close proximity.
Part 3, chapter 2 "Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind", subtitle UFO encounters and extraterrestrial life forms witnessed and personal encounters. Subtitle,"Colonies, relocation thereof".
Case histories. Chapter 3, Part 1,titled "military Encounters with UFO's".
Part 2, Chapter 3, "Military Reports Concerning Sightings on Radar and Electronic Surveillance of UFO's".
Subsection 2, Analysis Report, J. Allen Hynek, Lt. Col. Friend. Appendix continued on for about 5 pages. Opening subject page consisted of a report of the findings as written by Lt. Col. Friend and his analysis.
Must stress at this point that the version seen was annotated. There were inserts that were added to this copy after it had been initially printed.Sections remembered very vividly are the photographs and the reports concerning captive sights of various UFO's to include Mexico, sweden, United States and Canada. There were also what was then classified Close Encounters of the 3rd kind. It was made very clear that these people whom it was determined had genuine CE 3's were moved in the middle of the night by Air Force personnel and relocated to various sites in the midwest and Northwest parts of the United States. In many cases these people experienced physical ailments from exposure to various types of radiation.
One case especially noted and remembered very vividly was entitled "Darlington Farm Case" out of Ohio. Case apparently took place in October 1953. Man, wife and 13 year old son were sitting down at dinner table. As they sat there the lights in the farm house began to dim. Dogs and animals raised ruckus on outside. 13 year old boy got up from dinner table to see what was going on. Called his mother and father to come look at the funny light in the sky. Father and mother went out onto the porch. When they got out on the porch one of the dogs broke loose from leash beside house and came running around front. Boy began chasing it into the open field. As mother and father watched the light comedown from the sky.
They described it as a round ball of fire and it began to hover over the field where the boy and dog had run to. As they stood and watched, the mother and father heard the boy start screaming for help whereupon the father grabbed his shotgun which was right next to the door and began to run out into the field with the mother following. When the father got to the field he saw his son being carried away by what looked like little men, into this huge fiery looking object. As it took off the father fired several rounds at the object, to no avail.
They found the dog, it's head had been crushed but no sign of the boy or any other footprints of the little men who apparently carried him off. Father immediately called the Darlington police and they immediately came out to investigate. The official report read that the boy had run off and was lost in the forest which bordered the farm. Within 48 hours the Air Force made the determination that the family was to be relocated and the mother and father were picked up by Air Force Intelligence and all personal belonging and possessions were loaded into U.S. Air Force trucks and moved to a northwestern relocation site.
The mother was in shock and had to go through a great deal of psychotherapy and deprogramming as did father. One interesting aspect about this case was classification under Air Force report which read it was a genuine CE 3 and that for the good of national security the mother and father had been relocated to relocation zones Z21-14. Not sure whether this indicated map grid coordinates or latitude longitude. According to the report there were at least four relocation sites across the United States. Depending upon which type of encounter these people had, the report indicated that there were extensive medical facilities available at the relocation sites to deal with all medical emergencies up to and including radiation poisoning. The report mentioned a site located in the Utah-Nevada area, but no indication of it's purpose or what it was for.
Report gave clear indication of reports of human mutilations, most notably was a case witnessed by Air Force personnel in which an Air Force Sgt. E-6 by the name of Jonathan P. Lovette was observed being taken captive aboard what appeared to be a UFO at the WHITE sands Missile Test Range in New Mexico. This abduction took place in March of 1956 at about 0300 local and was witnessed by Major William Cunningham of the United States Air Force Missile Command near Holloman Air Force Base.
Major Cunningham and Sgt. Lovette were out in a field downrange from the launch sites looking for debris from a missile test when Sgt. Lovette went over the ridge of a small sand dune and was out of sight for a time. Major Cunningham heard Sgt. Lovette scream in what was described as terror or agony. The Major, thinking Lovette had been bitten by a snake or something ran over the crest of the dune and saw Sgt. Lovette being dragged into what appeared to him and was described as being a silvery disk like object which hovered in the air approximately 15 to 20 feet.
Major Cunningham described what appeared to be a long snake-like object which was wrapped around the sergeant's legs and was dragging him to the craft. Major Cunningham admittedly froze as the sergeant was dragged inside the disc and observed the disc and observed the disc going up into the sky very quickly. Major Cunningham got on the jeep radio and reported the incident to Missile Control whereupon Missile Control confirmed a radar sighting. Search parties went into the desert looking for Sgt. Lovette. Major Cunningham's report was taken and he was admitted to the White Sands Base Dispensary for observation.
The search for Sgt. Lovette continues for three days at the end of which his nude body was found approximately ten miles downrange. The body had been mutilated;the tongue had been removed from the lower portion of the jaw. An incision had been made just under the tip of the chin and extended all the way back to the esophagus and larynx. He had been emasculated and his eyes had been removed. Also, his anus had been removed and there were comments in the report on the apparent surgical skill of the removal of these items including the genitalia.
The report commented that the anus and the genitalia had been removed `as though a plug' which in the case of the anus extended all the way to the colon. There was no sign of blood within the system. The initial autopsy report confirmed that the system had been completely drained of blood and that there was no vascular collapse due to death by bleeding. Sub-comment was added that this was unusual because in any body who dies of bleeding or in the case of a complete blood loss there is always vascular collapse. Also noted was that when the body was found there were a number of dead predatory type birds within the area who apparently had died after trying to partake of the sergeant's body. There were a number of extremely grisly black and white photographs. From all indications the body had been exposed to the elements for at least a day or two. The New Mexico sun in the desert is extremely hot and debilitating under normal circumstances.
In this section of the report it also indicated that there were numerous occasions in which a ufo was tracked along side a fired missile and on one occasion said missile was observed being taken aboard a UFO while in flight. The speeds indicated were absolutely phenomenal. (English's father had told him privately that on more than one occasion he had personally tracked what they termed as `Foo fighters'. English's father was an electronics engineer by profession and was fairly well versed on electronics engineering and design and on more than one occasion he was involved in telemetry programming of missiles. (English's father is currently a state legislator in Arizona.)
The report also indicated that there were a number of recovery teams that were activated specifically for the purpose of recovering any and all evidence of UFO's and UFO sightings. Most notably recorded in publication was what they called Recovery Team Alpha. It was reported that Alpha had been extremely active in a number of areas and on certain occasions had traveled outside the United States. Alpha was based out of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and was on the move constantly.
Further information in the report consisted of such things as reported sightings and where Air Force planes had been destroyed or had combat encounters or had been attacked by UFO's. Also there were autopsy reports of various human mutilations.
About midway through the report came a section which dealt specifically with photographs. Each photo was labeled and appendixed to certain reports. A number of photo's in there dealt with a recovery program of some type that took place in the southwestern part of the United States. They did not give a location name but they did give grid coordinates for that area. There is no clear indication to exactly where it was. The photos dealt with special teams that were called in to recover a crashed UFO. It also dealt with alien bodies and autopsy reports,autopsy type photographs, high quality, color, 8 x 10, 5 x 7.
Photo number 1 showed an alien being on an autopsy table which is a metal table with runnels and traps underneath to trap fluid and feces. Body appeared to be a little short of 4 feet. Table about 7 foot.
No clothing on body, no genitalia, body completely heterous, head was a rounded cranium, slightly enlarged, eyes almond shaped, slits where nose would be, extremely small mouth, receding chin line, holes where ears would be. Photo was taken at angle, side view, looking at body from 45 degree elevation, left hand was visible, head was facing to left, body was right to left (head on right, feet on left), eyes were closed appeared to be oriental-looking and almond shaped, left hand slightly longer than normal, wrist coming down just about 2 to 3 inches above the knees. Wrist appeared to be articulated in a fashion that allowed a double joint with 3 digit fingers. Wrist was very slender. There was no thumb. A palm was almost non-existent. The three fingers were direct extension from the wrist.
Color of the skin was a bluish gray, dark bluish gray. At base of the body there was a darker color, indicating body was dead for some time. Body fluids or blood had settled to base of body. This indicated that body had been examined before beginning autopsy.
Pictures showed beginning stages of autopsy, following standard procedure, body was slit from crouch to just under chin and green viscous liquid was in evidence. There were internal organs but these could not be identified. Photos thereafter concerned specific areas of internal organs of what appeared as small cluster of multi-valve heart or at least two hearts within the cadaver. No accurate description of autopsy report or what was found with corpse accompanying photos. Indications that there was no stomach or digestive tract per se. Later analysis showed that fluid within the body was chloropyhyl based liquid which apparently dealt with photosynthesis or similar process. The report theorized that nourishment was taken in through mouth, however since there was no digestive tract or anything of this nature, the waste products were excreted through skin.
One section of the report did specify that cadavers were extremely odorous, but this could be accounted for by either deterioration or a number of things, but theory was that waste was excreted through pores of skin. They could only theorize in report because there was no xenobiology.
A report by Dr. J. Allen Hynek was recalled vividly which indicated that he had also studied the information provided by this particular case and that he felt that it was indeed a genuine UFO capture and subsequently the alien was part of UFO. Dr. Hynek was non-committal but did however sign the report. Also indicated in the report that he did not view the bodies personally, but viewed photographs and accompanying reports from autopsies.
Other photos dealt with a number of bodies which were vivi- sectioned in various ways. At one point, a head was removed from the body and photographed and autopsy was performed on head. The cranium was opened and brain matter was photographed and evident. Interesting thing about photo was that there was a ridge bone or dividing partition-type bone running directly through center of skull, from front to back, as though dividing two brains, one from the other. This seemed apparent from the picture. The skin was completely removed from the cranial structure and the skull was laid bare as much as possible.
At one point the skull was cut directly in half and photo showed under developed esophagus and nasal cavities. No clear photo of eye orbs as we know them, just complete vivisection of skull itself.
Numerous photos of flesh of the being starting with cutaneous and subcutaneous microphotographic plates. Appeared to be cellular studies done under microscopic and electron-microscopic type photos. Extreme magnification of tissue samples.
This concluded Bill English's statement which was transcribed from 2 cassette tapes. I obtained this hand written memorandum in August of 1987 from Paul Bennewitz during my visit with him in Albuquerque. In September of 1988 I received a call from Bill English. I asked for a chance to meet him and discuss the Grudge 13 report. He said that this could be arranged but that the meeting would have to be on his terms for security reasons. He explained that there had been several attempts on his life by persons unknown since he had made the cassette tapes about six years ago. We arranged a meeting at a small airport in Virginia on September 16. I was to sit in the lobby with my black flight bag and for identification purposes I told Bill what I would be wearing.l I had no telephone number for Bill.
As I walked into the small airport lobby after about a three hour drive from Richmond, I immediately noticed 2 gentlemen who seemed `out of place' for this locale. Both were wearing pin striped 3 piece suits, both had on dark glasses. One was a black gentleman. One was stationed inside the lobby door looking out at the parking lot, one was leaning up against an airline counter. I sat down and after a few minutes was approached by a tall, bearded man in jeans and a heavy jacket. He asked if I wanted to have a drink. We walked outside and he introduced himself as Bill English. We drove in Bill's car into town to a local bar. About five minutes after we ordered and started to talk, the men I had seen at the airport came into the bar and sat down. We left for Bill's house and never saw the men again for the next 2 days.
During the next two days I stayed with Bill and his wife and two children in a small trailer in the middle of a field at his farm. I asked him endless questions concerning the Grudge 13 document, how he happened to see it, what happened to him after he saw it and literally thousands of questions about the content of the document. My impression of Bill English was that he was totally honest, that he stood behind his statements and recollection of the Grudge 13 papers, that he was a devoted husband and father to his wife's 2 children. That Bill English was ready to come forward and enter into any debate regarding the legitimacy of the document and his recollections thereof. Of Bill`s compassion for his father and his father's feelings concerning Bill and the reasons for their occasional disagreements.
I have tremendous respect for Bill and what he has tried to do in getting this information out to the public. It has been at tremendous personal risk, not to mention the ridicule by sponsored agents such as Bill Moore, who has stated that the Grudge 13 papers were a fraud.
What follows is additional information about the Grudge 13 papers that I obtained from Bill during my visit. In addition to the following Bill painstakingly drew many sketches of the photos of different types of flying saucers, the equipment obtained from them including a sketch of the football sized nuclear generator and sketches of the autopsy photos.
From my notes taken during our 2 day meeting: Bill described a photo taken of 3 live aliens. Very clear photos, aliens standing against a white tile wall, looking confused as if they had been shoved, were looking in different directions.
Report said that aliens had contacted a U.S. Intelligence Agency for initial 2 meetings, one at Holloman, one at Homestead.
U.S. Air Force relocation personnel (for persons involved in close encounters) were referred to as `Men in Black'.
Major Cunningham was initially accused of murdering Sgt. Jonathan P. Lovette. Charges were later dropped.
Bill English's place of employment in England was Security Services Command, RAF Chicksands.
Entire Grudge 13 Report was written as if report was geared toward preparation of defenses.
Report told of ultrasonic weapons found in Germany at the end of WWII that could shatter 4" thick armor.
Report told of sensitive military and industrial areas at which personnel have experienced missing time.
Report told about missing time experienced with personnel associated with North American X-15 rocket plane project.
Report stated that there were 17 different species accounted for up to the time of the report.
Extraterrestrials were referred to as A.L.F.'s. Alien Life forms in the report.
Report referred to one UFO that was recovered and test flown. The UFO blew up as the two Air Force pilots aboard attempted to leave the atmosphere. English recalls the date as in the mid 50's.
Report refers to flying saucer program as `Project Red Light' and that a secret installation had been constructed in the middle of the Atomic Energy Commission testing ground in Nevada.
At the time of the report 11 alien cadavers were being kept at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base.
That additional alien cadavers were being stored at 4 to 5 other medical institutions.
That 2 flying saucers of extraterrestrial origin had been tested in the wind tunnel at Langley, Va.
That at the time of the report one disc was being stored at McDill Air Force Base, Florida.
That at the time of the report, 1 damaged disc was at Eglin Air Force Base in Florida.
That at the time of the report that had been 2 UFO incidents at Ft. Riley, Kansas.
That at the time of the report a detachment of the Alpha Recovery Team was based at Randolph Air Force Base.
The report discussed civilian and military personnel who had been terminated `to eliminate potentially dangerous elements to the national security'.
The General James Doolittle had been mentioned several times in the report with the notation that "his (Doolittle's) predictions might be correct". There was no indication of what those predictions might have been.
A short segment containing the quotation. "By presidential order, certain aspects of research have been undertaken".
The information that John related here is correct as far as the
material concerning Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, but John failed to make
mention of the incidents following my viewing of the document nor of
what led to my sudden and timely disappearance from the scene in 1980.
BETWEEN THEN AND NOW
Shortly after viewing the documents in the Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, my life changed dramatically. After reading the documents I assigned a probability rating to them of approximately 95%, based on information within the document that several years previously I had directly been involved with. The recovery of the B-52 Bomber Aircraft in Vietnam.
Much to my surprise the photographs and reports that I and my team made of the incident and then turned into MACV Headquarters in Saigon appeared within the document. I cannot speak for the validity of the rest of the information enclosed therein, but I can vouch for the authenticity of that particular material. I would point out that since my public announcement of this material, I have publicly said that there is the distinct possibility that the material was fraudulent and that it was intended that I see it in order to spread mis-information. I would point out further, that I do not claim that this material is the gospel truth and that everyone should start gathering in their families and the animals because the world is about to end. Unlike some others that I know are currently on the speaking circuit . . ..
Within two weeks of viewing the document things began to happen with a speed heretofore unknown in government circles. I had originally viewed the document during the last week of June of 1977. About the second week of July, things had not changed significantly. I was still going to my medieval society meetings, taking the wife to school, and the boys to the day-care center during the week. On weekends Stephy and I would try to plan things together with the kids, outings of various types that would allow us to spend time with each other and enjoy ourselves. One of my particular favorites was taking my eldest son David into Bedfordshire on saturdays.
That was when the market place was full of vendors trying to sell their wares, and we would just walk and see what kind of bargains we could find. It was like an adventure to us, and then after we walked through the market we would go to the riverside and throw bread to the swans that lived on the banks of the Bedford River. I look back on those days with a great deal of joy and sadness as they are now gone forever to me, and I am reminded that I have now missed the most important years of my sons lives.
During the second week of July I reported for work as I normally did, only this time when I checked in I was met by to Air Security Policemen who informed me that the base commander, Col, Robert Black wanted to see me at his office immediately. I was then escorted by these two neanderthals to Headquarters building at the top of the hill to the col's office where I was made to wait for about thirty minutes before Black would see me.
When he did see me he was very brusk and cold and politely informed me that my services as a Data Analyst for the United States Air Force Security Services Command were no longer needed and that I was being immediately sent back to the United States via a MAC flight from RAF Lakenheath. I politely reminded the Colonel that since I was a civilian hire and that my place of hiring was in fact in England they had no right to ship me back to the U.S. without my consent, and since my wife was a civilian employee of the Department of Defence Schools, I would automatically fall under the dependant classification if I was no longer employed by the government.
Black's basic reaction to all of this was laughter. He in turn politely informed me that for all he cared I could eat shit and bark at the moon. I was going back to the United STates whether I wanted to or not, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.
Seeing that there wasn't much to be gained by arguing with the asshole, I then requested permission to at least call my wife at the school and let her know what the hell was going on. Permission was refused me and I was immediately escorted to RAF Lakenheath under armed guard and placed on a flight back to the states.
When I arrived in the states I immediately tried to call my wife to let her know what had happened. Every time I tried to get through, the phone would ring, a man's voice would answer and then the phone would go dead. Not only did this happen when I tried to call my wife, but also when I tried to call several friends that could possibly get a message to my wife.
Needless to say it was like this for several months, and finally I gave up trying. I wrote letters to her, to my friends, everyone that I could think of, and still there was no response. Finally, I gave up trying. I have since learned that my wife transferred to a different Air Force Base shortly after that, after she had been told by Black that I quit my job and deserted her and the boys. It was a bald face lie, but by then it was to late to prove otherwise, and would have been impossible under the circumstances.
What took place after that was one series of failures after another. I returned to my home town of Tucson, Arizona and began looking for a job of some type that would support me. After several months and much indignation I found a job working as a fry-cook/night manager at a Waffle House on I-10.
It was during this time that it looked as if I might be going back to Europe as there was a job offer to work for the British Broadcasting Corporation as a Cameraman. I quit my job at the Waffle House, and suddenly the job fell through. I just didn't hear anything more from them, and they wouldn't answer any of my letters of inquiry. Shortly there after I got a job working for a security company as a guard. It was during this juncture in my employment career that I was assigned to work at the campus of Pima Community College.
Prior to my assignment at the college, I had not given much thought to the question of UFO's and the effect that it was having on my life. In fact I had become so consumed with the act of survival that I had not given it any thought at all. You the reader, must bear in mind also, that this was perhaps the most trying time that I had ever had in my entire life. I had just lost a family that I loved and care for very much, and there wasn't a thing that I could do that would make it different, no matter how much I wanted it or tried. In short, I was on the verge of suicide.
While working the campus shift for the security company, I noticed an announcement on the bulletin board announcing the speech of one Stanton Friedman, eminent scientist and UFO Investigator. The speech was set to take place at the college that night and I decided that I would attend as it was free at the student union. During the course of Stan's speech he imparted a great deal of information about science and the study of UFO's, but for some reason none of it seem to be of any great consequence.
The information was based in part on investigations that many well meaning and hard working people had been able to gather. Most notable were the efforts of Jim and Coral Lorenzen, the founders of the Aerial Phenomenon Research Organization. The only problem with it was the fact that it wasn't all of the information. During the course of Stan's speech he made mention of the fact that Blue Book Report #13 had never been published and that the government had said that it jumped from thirteen to fourteen due to the unlucky significance of the number thirteen. Hogwash!!!!
I knew that this was hogwash and after Stan finished his talk I approached him and told him that it was. He asked me point blank how I knew it was hogwash, and I told him that I viewed A report entitled Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, that went far beyond their wildest dreams with regard to admitting the existence of UFO's.
Within a matter of minutes I was whisked away by Stan, Allen Benz, and Jim Lorenzen to the APRO Offices that were then located on North Country Club in Tucson, where I spent several hours relating my experience and detailing everything that I could remember about the report, which was quit a bit. It took several months for the final outcome of that conversation to finally come out, but at the time Jim Lorenzen thought that I was nuttier than a fruitcake. Which I suppose under the circumstances was understandable.
During the interim, I was allowed access to the files at the APRO offices where I began to learn and understand more than I had before all of this had started. One of the things that I discovered through my research was that over the years there was a pattern of government cover-up that far outreached anything that anyone was aware of at the time I began my research.
In fact it has only been during the past ten or so years that people have come to realize that this is the case. Another thing that I discovered was the fact that the information I had concerning Grudge/Blue Book Report #13 was information that some one wanted to keep quiet. So much so in fact, they were willing to kill, or at least put on the show of trying.
The first attempt took place in Tucson, Arizona. I was driving from Tucson to Sierra Vista, where my father had his Real Estate Office located at. I was in the process of starting a small custom leather shop at the time and had decided to go down to discuss with my father some problems that I had been having with funding. As I was driving down I-10 toward Sierra Vista it was a pleasant day, at least for riding a motorcycle. The road didn't have to much traffic and there were several stretches where I was the only vehicle on the road.
It was during one of these intervals that a black, 1978 Lincoln Continental came onto the road behind me and began to pace me as I drove along. As I traveled I kept seeing this car in my rear-view mirror.
At first I didn't think a great deal of it, but as time went on I noticed that it never seemed to go faster or slower than I did, always keeping the same distance. Between Tucson and the turn off to Hachuca City the limo made it's move and I happened to catch it in my mirror as it suddenly speeded up as it came toward me. I moved to the side of the road and began to hug the shoulder as closely as I was able to and in the process slowing down in order to let it pass me by. Instead of moving toward the left to pass it came over into the should where I was at.
Seeing this and getting a bad feeling in my stomach I gun the motor on my bike and cut suddenly left, just barely getting out of it's way as it came past me and over the spot I had just vacated. I knew then that this wasn't and accident. Just after the car pasted me by the driver slammed on it's brakes and spun around in order to make another pass at me. For a few moments it seemed like I was in the middle of a game of roller ball and I was the ball. Avoiding the vehicle again I then cut across into the desert as fast as I could go. The Lincoln tried to follow but as it came onto the desert floor it appeared to get stuck in the loose dirt and stopped. I continued on my way through the desert in the general direction toward Sierra Vista and eventually made my way to my father's office.
When I arrived at my father's, I told him what had taken place. He pooh, poohed and told me that it was my imagination, but never the less followed me in his car back to Tucson. This was the first attempt upon my life.
Within a matter of weeks another attempt took place. By this time I had gotten my business operating and did a lot of work out of my apartment. I had gotten into a pattern by this time and was usually in bed around ten o'clock at night. This night however I had been invited to spend the night at a friends whom I had been helping to rebuild a saddle. It came at the spur of the moment and I had not made any plans for it to happen prior.
This particular night I just happen to be at the store when he came over and asked me to come by and have dinner in exchange for the work that I had helped him with on the saddle, and then stay for an evening of movies and HBO. Normally I would have been at home that particular night. The next morning upon my return to my apartment I found that it had been burned completely. The fire department informed me that it had been arson. It would seem that some one tossed a fire bomb into my front window possibly thinking that I would be there. I lost everything that I had in the apartment to include a pet hamster that I had grown quite attached to.
Over the years there have been approximately fifteen attempts on my life. Several of these were reported to the local police department, several have not. In all cases the police department have not investigated once they find out that I am an investigator of UFO phenomenon. You figure it out.
In the early part of 1980 I was surprised to receive a phone call from Robert Black, the Air Force Colonel who in 1977 sent me packing on my way from RAF Chicksands. Black told me that he had been involuntarily retired from the Air Force and believed that it was due in part to the document that I had viewed while working for Security Services Command at RAF Chicksands.
I was more or less cool toward Black but agreed to meet with him at my store in Trail Dust Town in Tucson. When we met I asked him several questions concerning my family and discovered what had happened after my departure. Apparently my wife had been told that I deserted them and that I upped and quit my job without notice and then caught a MAC flight out to the states. My wife was faced with several difficult decisions, among them was how to handle the up bringing of two children. According to Black she finished out the school year at RAF Chicksands and then requested and received a transfer to a different school system within the Department of Defence Schools in Great Britain. He went on to say that he had no idea as to what happened when I tried to contact them, saying that he was told after I left, that it was out of his hands.
Black went on to say that he had come across some information that indicated a flying saucer or space vehicle of some type had crashed at the White Sands Missile Range, and that because of it's size they were unable to move it so instead buried it where it lay. He wanted to know if I was interested in coming with him to find it. I asked him why me, and he said because I had read the document and knew what it was we were looking for. He went on to say also that he was putting every bit of money that he had into outfitting a special vehicle that would carry research equipment and supplies, but that he didn't have enough. By this time I was thoroughly hooked on the idea and made an agreement with him to sell my business and then put most of the money that I made into the vehicle also. Which is what I did.
In the meantime I contacted Wendelle Stevens and told him of what we were planning and invited him along. He was in the middle of investigating the Billy Miers case in Switzerland and declined. His decision to not participate is most likely what saved his life.
I met with Black in Belen, New Mexico during the first week of June in 1980. Along with Black was his former operations sergeant at RAF Chicksands, who's name escapes me at present. Black explained that the Sergeant had been involuntarily retired from the service also and that he was as interested in finding the answers as we were. I went along with thinking that if nothing else it would be a hell of a camping trip.
We proceeded northward from Belen, going toward Santa Fe and Albuquerque, and then crossed over easterly toward the "Trinity Test Site" where the first Atomic Bomb was tested. Stopping along the way to make brief incursions into the test range in order to setup the equipment and run it for short periods of time. From the Trinity Test Site we then proceeded southerly to Alamogordo and the over past Holloman Air Force Base, where we once again entered the test range. This time through the White Sands National Monument.
In those days they didn't close the monument to the public at night and you could go in 24 hours a day and even camp over night there. Once in the monument we then proceeded to the northern most boundary of the park and entered the range once again. This time we planned on going as far as we could until either came across something or we were forced to turn back in order to be off the range during the day and camp over night in the park.
I was walking about 500 to a 1000 meters in front of the Van with a metal detector, trying to see if there was anything buried under the sand. It was just after sun down and the van had it's lights on in order to allow me enough light to see where I was going. As I was walking I heard a sound that made my skin crawl. The sound of an in- coming rocket is something a veteran of the Vietnam era never forgets.
. . especially after having been caught in several fire fights where they came in on your positions. I instinctively recognized the sound and screamed a warning. The warning was to late. The next thing I knew, the van was nothings more than smoke and debris and Black and Horn were no longer there.
If nothing else, I have never laid claim to being a hero, and I am certainly not John Rambo, willing to take on the entire Russian Army for friendship and glory. I am pleased to say that experience and common sense have taught me better than that. I would venture a guess and say that had I stuck around rather than make like a rabbit and take off, I would most likely not be here to relate this story to you. That is in fact exactly what I did. It took me only a matter of seconds to determine that it was both unwise and unhealthy to stick around to try and help what amounted to nothing more than hamburger, and I was off like a shot (excuse the pun).
I had on my webb belt and a canteen fun of water and my survival knife, so I had essentially everything that I needed to survive in the desert. I traveled North Westerly through the desert at night for about two days before I came to a major road and was able to thumb a ride into Tucson from New Mexico.
When I arrived in Tucson it was in the early morning hours and I made my way to Wendelle Stevens home where I woke him up by knocking on his bedroom window. Being the good egg that he is, he let me into his home and gave me some food, the use of his shower and a shirt (the pants were to small). After I had refreshed myself I related to him everything that taken place during the past several days while he recorded it with his recorder and took notes. I have since learned that the original tapes have disappeared. After several hours of talking with Wendelle I pretty much told him everything that I could and he was kind enough to give me a ride home from his place.
As we approached the apartment where I was then living with a lady friend, I spotted a large black car parked in front of the building. I asked Wendelle to drive around the corner from the apartment and drop me off. Making my way back to the apartment I let myself in the back door and then quietly looked out the front of the window to see somebody sitting inside the vehicle smoking a cigarette. They (whoever they were) were watching for me. It was time to leave and go into hiding.
I GO ON THE LAM
I spent the next several days in the apartment making plans for my disappearance. The first thing that I did was break up with my girl friend, which I wasn't happy about doing, but I remembered what happened with my wife and felt that for her own protection it would be best. I then took what few processions I had accumulated and sold them to a local thrift store and then moved to a small trailer on the west side of town. I stayed there for about a month and then packed my backpack and caught a bus to Phoenix, Arizona, where I made sure that I was arrested in the bus station by a Phoenix police officer on an old traffic ticket. When I arrived at the holding cell at the Phoenix police department I called my sister and had her drive to Phoenix to pick me up and pay the fines with money that I had left with her for this purpose. She then drove me back to Tucson where I spent the night at her home.
The following morning I said my goodbyes and struck out to the edge of town and across the desert, traveling toward San Diego by night. It took me about a week to get there and once there I headed toward Los Angeles via the Coastal Highway. I arrived in L.A. almost three weeks after leaving Tucson.
When I got to Los Angeles I spent my first night in town in a shelter for the homeless. This in itself was an experience that one could write several books about. Upon my arrival at the shelter it became a slow and tedious process of hurry up and wait. In order to get a meal you had to wait for several hours in the waiting room until they past out tickets for you to eat. Then you had to wait several more hours before they opened the dinning room for you to enter. Once you entered the dining room and went through the line to eat the simple meal (it wasn't mom's home cooking, but if you were hungry, it was good) you then went back out into the waiting room and waited for them to pass out more tickets for you to get a place to sleep for the night.
The waiting was a pain, but I soon found by watching others that if you did wait you didn't eat and you did get a place to sleep for the night. By this time I was feeling fairly depressed and wasn't about to sleep outside another night. I needed a shower, which, as it turned out, was obligatory, along with a free louse inspection and spraying if it was found that you were carrying uninvited guest, and I needed time to think out my next move.
It always seems that during the hardest times in my life I always turn to God. Not because I am overly zealous as a believer, but more because I do seem to get a certain amount of comfort from him during the most difficult times of my life, and sometimes I even get inspiration. I cannot and will not say whether or not it comes from God, but when I need it the most the help seems to appear only after I have done some serious praying. Such was the case this time. As I lay there praying quietly to myself, a rather forlorn and skinny looking fellow in the bed next to me looked over and said, "if you need a place to stay and hid for a while, why don't you go check out the Hudson House".
It never occurred to me at the time, that this might have been a message from the man upstairs, but it certainly was an answer to my prayers. I thanked the fellow and went to sleep feeling much better about the events of the past several weeks.
The next morning I woke up and went down to the free breakfast that they gave to all of the overnighters as we were called and then packed my kit and found a pay phone. I called the office of Social Services in L.A. and inquired about the HUdson House, and obtained the phone number. I then called and was told that there was one opening at House number one and given direction to the place.
I had just enough money to take a L.A. Bus to the location of house number one which to my delight was just one block down from Grauman's Chinese Theater and the heart of Hollywood. The house was located on Franklin Avenue.
When I arrived I was met at the door by a fellow who I shall refer to as Robert. The reason I am changing this young man's name will become obvious in a moment. When I came into the house I was escorted to the dinning room area and invited to sit down and fill out the necessary forms, which seemed fairly standard in a situation like this. The rules of Hudson House were explained to me. For the first two weeks there I was obligated to travel out with several other members of the house to solicit donations from the outlying communities for the American Missions Association, which sponsored the operations of the Hudson Houses.
At the end of the two week period I would then be allowed time to go out and find a job in the local community and I would agree to pay the Hudson House operation $200.00 per week for room and board. Under the circumstances this seemed fairly reasonable to me and as I filled out the paperwork I thought that perhaps this would be the ideal situation for a while, then I would move on again once I was able to establish myself a little bit of a nest egg. What came next was more than just a little bit of a surprise.
As I sat there filling out the paperwork I came across a form that at first seemed innocuous until I looked at the bottom of it. Printed there were the letters G, B, S, and the instructions to circle one. Not understanding what it meant I asked Bob and he told me that it meant Gay, Bi-sexual, or Straight. I didn't think anything more of it at that moment thinking that it was California and the people that lived there were a bit different to begin with so I circled S since I was neither of the first two (here comes the kicker gang). When I circled the S Bob got a funny look on his face and started to hem and hah a little bit.
Finally he looked at me and said that there was a problem. "Oh?", says I. "What kind of a problem is that?" Hudson House is a halfway house for Gays . . .. "OOOOK!" I think to myself.
I must have turned white or something, because Bob tried to be as nice as he could, and you have to bear in mind that all of this took place within a matter of milliseconds. Thinking fast, I looked him dead in the eye and said, "I don't have a problem with that if you don't".
After several minutes of discussion with Bob, I assured him that I had nothing against Gays and would respect them and their lifestyle if they accorded me the same respect. Besides, I told him, I needed a place to live and more or less get my collective shit together and currently this was the best offer in town. After making a few phone calls to the administrators of the operation he agreed to give it a try for a while to see how things went.
I could write a book about the following three months. It was an experience that I shall never forget, and believe it or not, one that I shall remember with a certain amount of fondness. I learned a great deal, and many of those lessons have helped me considerably since then. I will say this, however. There is nothing stranger than to have a gay in love with another gay come to you and ask advice about what he, or for that matter, she, should do to win over the other. By the time I left, they were referring to me as "Papa Bear", the "Ann Landers" of the Gay World (What a distinction!).
I lived at the Hudson House in L.A. for about three months, during which time I did my two weeks of service and was then allowed to go out and seek employment. Using the services provided by the organization, I found a job working at a restaurant that was owned, operated, and frequented by gays in the local community, as a fry cook at $5.00 and hour.
It wasn't the greatest paying job in the world, but it allowed me the opportunity to support myself and at the same time save enough money to begin phase two of my now established plan. I must admit that being more or less an observer of life, I enjoyed the real life drama that was taking place around me. One of these days, if I ever get to the point where I can stop being a UFO Investigator, I might sit down and write several books about the incidents. In many respects, I doubt seriously that you could go through much of that without splitting your sides in laughter.
At the end of three months I had managed to save enough money to begin phase two, which was to leave California without notice and head eastward to the farm my mother had bought several years previously in Virginia, and where she had recently moved when she and my step father had retired. During the second week in November, just after I got my pay check from the restaurant, I informed the managers that I was quitting without notice. I then went back to the Hudson House and packed my bags telling everyone that I had to return to Arizona for an emergency in the family and walked to the bus station where I then caught a bus for Virginia.
During the next eight years I spent a fairly quiet life. The first year I lived on my mother's farm, working and helping her and my dad to remodel the farmhouse. During this period my step-father was forced to return to work in Saudi Arabia as a construction engineer on a project there. I personally think it was because my mother was turning him into a lunatic, but in any case I spent most of the year alone with what at the time appeared to be the mad woman of chalet (or something like that). In any case she made me slightly crazy.
After about a year, she and I more or less got tired of each other, and one day I told her that I didn't think that I would make a very good farmer. Her reply to that was, "Ok. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out". I left that day and moved into Lynchburg, Virginia, which was the closest town to the farm, and as it happened was the home of Liberty University and Gerry Falwell. Whom I later came to victimize on a fairly regular basis when I went into late night radio.
During the next several years I quietly disassociated myself from UFO's and research into that field, eventually divorcing my wife and remarrying a second time. The marriage lasted about three months and ended rather nastily when she awoke one morning to inform me that she was pregnant and she didn't want to be, and that I was a royal pain in the ass, and that she didn't want to be married anymore. Not a real confidence booster. Especially in light of the fact that we had dated each other for the better part of a year and a half before I asked her to marry me, and we discussed the fact that I couldn't handle a second loss of this nature.
Oh well . . . so much for promises and love. Needless to say I more or less fell apart at the seams for a while and went on a six month toot that would have made W.C. Fields proud. Eventually however, I did get my shit back together again. By this time I was working at a radio station in Crewe, Virginia and writing articles for the local weekly newspaper. She had the baby and tried to hit me for child support, and circumstances being what they were I am probably one of the few men in this country to be crazy enough to stand in front of a judge and tell him that he'd see me pay "that woman" $200.00 a month in child support, when he saw christ walk on earth for a second time, and get away with it.
During the two years that I lived in Crewe, things were more or less quiet with the exception of one incident. The house that I lived in was just two blocks away from the local police department. The town used to be a railroad terminal station, but when the railroad cut back it more or less died on it's feet and there were only about nine hundred people living there and the town employed only two cops. Both of which reminded me slightly of Barney Fife and Gomer Pyle. I never realized that there really were those kind of people in the world.
I was at home that night watching the television and had gotten up to get a soft drink from the kitchen. By this time I had sworn off alcohol of any kind, having learned a valuable lesson during my divorce from my second wife. When I came back into the living-room I tripped over my shoe laces of all things, and fell face forward onto the floor. As I fell, some one started firing automatic weapons fire into the front of the house.
The gun fire went on for watch seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes, but later estimates by the local sheriff's department and state police stated that at least several thousands of rounds were emptied into the front of the house. Due to the construction of the house, a concrete foundation wall about three feet high is what apparently saved my life.
At first the law enforcement agencies thought that it might be something that my ex- father in-law decided to do since I was not budging on inch on the child support thing, and he had the reputation of being slightly radical when it came to his daughters. They weren't able to prove anything though and the investigation more or less was dropped. In the meantime I decided it was a more healthy idea to find different lodgings and quietly disappear again.
This time I moved to Blackstone, Virginia where I went to work for a gentleman by the name of George Walker, who owned a cattle farm and raised Angus Cattle. I worked for George for several months until I stepped down from a tractor one day and ruptured the ligaments in my right knee and had to have surgery. It took me several months to recover from that, and of course George's insurance paid for everything, so I had an extended vacation whether I wanted it or not. During this time I recovered and did a little writing for the local paper.
It was at this time my mother contacted me and told that she had gone to a farm auction to buy a pig and fatten it up for the home farm's freezer. The wind was apparently blowing, she heard pig, 20, and assumed that she was bidding on a pig for twenty dollars. She raised her hand to bid and found out latter that she bought the pig farm for $20,000.00. Would I be interested in coming out and helping her and dad get it in operation??
After laughing hysterically and falling out of my chair, I informed her that she would see me working on a pig farm when pigs grew wings. She kept after me for about three months until finally I gave in. She got me with the bit about having to go into the hospital for surgery and how she was going to need help. Take a bit of advice guys. Watch out for that one. I found myself shoveling pig shit for six months by hand. The only good thing that came out of that was I met my third and present wife, and had the clearest sinuses I've had in thirty-eight years Phewww!
I met my third wife Valerie and her children, when I went to find a part time job at the local radio station in Brookneal, Virginia. This one was more or less a whirlwind courtship. Neither of us was really interested in getting married, and found ourselves living together more for economy than anything else. Valerie had conned me into starting to go to church with her and after several months it came time for what the Baptist church referred to as revival. Somehow or other Valerie and I were volunteered to invite the visiting minister and his wife and our minister and his wife for dinner. Some how or other we found ourselves walking down the aisle the morning of the dinner.
I still think that I was had, but in the end it was the best thing that happened to me. During the past three years Valerie has been supportive of my work and has stood by me all the way. That doesn't mean there haven't been a few interesting moments, but all in all it hasn't been bad at all.
Shortly after our marriage I went to work at a radio station in Lynchburg called WLVA, which had the distinction of being one of the oldest radio stations in the country. Having once again told my mother that I was not a farmer and my nose couldn't take anymore, I went to work for WLVA and was able to win several awards for my production work and my nightly radio talk show. I might add that one of my favorite things to do was to take pot shots at Gerry Falwell, who may be greatly loved by the masses outside of Virginia, but who in reality gave the term hemorrhoid a new meaning, and is not thought to highly of in Lynchburg.
It was during my tenure at WLVA I began to receive rather cryptic messages from my father in the mail telling me that some "Asshole" (not my words) was pestering the shit out him and his secretaries, and that I had "damned well better do something about it!"
As it turned out the "Asshole" was John Lear, and he wasn't really an asshole at all. Unfortunately, my father misinterpreted John's persistence and desires to get in contact with me, and didn't really give him a chance. And to be perfectly honest, I, at the time wasn't really interested in contacting John because I had finally reached a point in my life where everything in my life was going well, and I was happy.
During the course of the next several months I received several more terse messages from my father but did nothing about them. Then one night while working at the radio station I happened to see a story on the Associate Press Wire Service concerning Walt Andrus, Founder and Director of MUFON. The story seemed to be extremely out of character for Walt from what little I knew of him, and it was of such a nature that I could no longer ignore the possibility of coming back into the investigative field of UFOlogy.
After giving it a great deal of thought I contacted Wendelle Stevens at his home in Arizona. Needless to say, Wendelle damned near had a heart attack when he heard my voice on the phone. Playing catch up for thirty or so seconds and finding out that I had a prominent part in a recent book published by Bill Steinman and himself, I agreed to read the book and asked him not to let anyone know that I was alive and well contrary to the belief that I had been killed, until I had a chance to think things through. He agreed and sent a copy of the Book "UFO Crash at Aztec" for me to read.
Within the next few days the book arrived and I sat down to read it carefully. As I read it, it became apparent to me that other evidence had come to light that substantiate everything that I had been saying all along for the past twelve or so years. It was then that I made the decision to contact John Lear.
When I called the number that had been forwarded to me by my father, I represented myself as Bill English's lawyer, saying that he was overseas and had asked me to contact him and find out what he wanted. John was very pleasant on the phone and explained that he want to talk to "Bill" about his viewing of "Blue Book Report #13. I then asked what he wanted to know and he explained that he was investigating the claims and needed more information concerning them. I told him that I would pass the message on and let Mr. English know.
I then waited several more days before contacting John. This time as myself. We talked and he asked if he could meet me in Virginia to talk with me. the rest you already know from Chapter one of this document.
Very shortly after John's visit, WLVA began to experience severe financial difficulties and there were forced to release much of the production and air staff, so I lost my job. It was at this point that my wife and I decided that it was now necessary for my to once again become active in the investigative fields. We had the money and opportunity to move so we came to Alamogordo, New Mexico for a number of reason. The first being, oddly enough, that I was born here. The second reason was because it was the last place I visited while actively investigating before my disappearance. I had unfinished business here.
Since our return here I have been quietly investigating the Black and Horn incident, trying to gain evidence to verify what took place that night on the Missile Range. So far without much luck, but in the meantime I, and my associate Dick Shefler have founded UFINET, UFO News and Information Service which is devoted to cooperation with other Investigative Organizations and Investigators. Admittedly, there are a certain few that are giving me an ulcer because of the crud that is being said about myself and some of the material that is going out, but all in all we have met with a great deal of success.
Here is the story . . . make what you will of it, and form your own opinions, but certainly don't believe everything that you've read. As I have said before, the material I viewed in the Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, could have been false information designed to mislead those of you trying to get at the truth. However, based on the other information that has come to light over the past ten years, I doubt it. I present the story of what I saw with this possibility in mind and relate only what I had happen to me.
Since 1977 there have been a total of what appeared to be fifteen attempts against my life. Like many of you I find it difficult to believe that if the government wanted me dead they would have failed in their efforts. Which leaves open several possibilities. The first and most unlikely being that they are complete incompetents, and the second being that the attempts are an effort to motivate me into certain directions. As it is I am making an effort to let the public know that whatever is going on, it is happening and that we need more evidence and information before we even know what questions to ask in order to obtain the answers that we as investigators so desperately need.
Form your own opinions about this report I have written, but whatever you do, stay open to the possibilities and examine the world around you carefully before you become locked into a narrow minded view of the world around you.