FRIEND OR UFOE?
By Jerry Washington
Back in the bad ol' days, back in the early 80s when I was still a prodigious drinker, I had an experience that could have easily resulted in a Larry Mahoney kind of nightmare: you wake up from your alcoholic stupor to discover you've plowed into a busload of Kentucky teenagers returning from a trip to King's Island - resulting in a conflagration and the deadliest bus crash in our nation's history.
Slated to make a drive to the mountains of North Carolina, I began the journey with a trek to a local liquor store where I purchased a couple of fifths of Bacardi rum. I started drinking immediately and was pretty well tanked before I even got out of Louisville.
I made it as far as Lexington before I started to phase-out. Indeed, the last thing I remember before blacking-out entirely is the sign heralding the Berea exit on I-75.
For the next 120 miles or so, I was completely zonked and have absolutely no recollection of the drive. This includes the trip over the Cumberland Mountains that straddle the border of Tennessee and Kentucky.
Anyone who's ever taken that route knows that there are a number of precipitous drop-offs on either side of that twisting stretch of highway. I know that drunks can do some amazing things on auto-pilot, but navigating Jellico Mountain in my condition stretches the limits of credulity.
I feel certain that something - I don't know what - interceded on my behalf to save my ass. It wouldn't be the first time. I'd been blessed a couple of times before when I tempted fate, but not to that degree. I should have at least run off the road, or been stopped by the cops along the way. Instead I made it all the way to a warehouse district in Knoxville, passed out in a car that was parked neatly along the side of a road, with its engine turned off and the key still in the ignition. That's where the cops found me before hauling me off to the drunk-tank.
A guardian angel? Is that who stepped in to save me from myself? Or could it have been the "aliens?" Anyone who reads this newsletter undoubtedly knows about my close encounter and the other sightings I had in my hometown of Oak Ridge, TN. ("Atomic City, USA"). And even though I've yet to undergo any hypnotic regression to find out one way or the other, I've come to recognize that I fit the profile of a likely "abductee." Dreams that I experienced after-the-fact would also suggest that I am. If so, then I'd have to say that my "buddies" have been a benevolent presence in my life. At the risk of sounding like Whitley Strieber, who appears to have never met an "visitor" he didn't like, I have to accept the possibility that "they" could be responsibility for a number of my "blessings." This would directly contradict the opinions expressed by a growing number of UFOlogists at the recent MUFON conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
According to a report I read on the Internet, a consensus of opinion is emerging among abduction researchers that we are already skirmishing with the aliens, if not at war. It's believed that they're not our friends and could be our enemies, as abductions take on an ominous twist. The entities essentially kidnap, rape, cause tremendous mental and physical pain, and deceive us for their own purposes.
Dan Wright, who runs the Abduction Transcription Project explains the aliens agenda thusly, after studying 906 transcripts of 254 separate abduction cases: "Most abductees are part of the development of a "hybrid" species…the entities are primarily interested in human sexuality and reproduction…the alien mission is primary and must be accomplished no matter what the cost to humans."
On the other hand: a question was posed to me not too long ago by someone who asked me if I'd every come across any evidence of direct alien intervention into a situation where help was desperately needed. I hadn't, except for a few medical "miracles," but agreed to look into the matter.
What I came up with was this excerpt from a lecture given by Dr. Vladimir V. Rubtsov, a Russian researcher, as excerpted from the 1994 MUFON proceedings: "…On the night of the fire in the ChNPS (Chernobyl Nuclear Power Station), some 3 hours after the explosion, a team of nuclear specialists saw in the sky of the station a fiery ball of the color of brass… Just before the observation these specialists measured the level of radiation in the place where they were standing. It was measured at 3000 milliroentgens per hour. 'Suddenly two bright rays of crimson color extended from the ball to the reactor… This lasted for some 3 minutes… The rays abruptly faded and the ball slowly floated away… towards Byelorussia. Then we again looked at our radiation monitor. It displayed only 800 milliroentgens per hour…'"
Instead of preaching to some poor hapless abductee about how we're mucking up the planet, the aliens did something, for once, to help improve our sorry lot. Sort of like they did for me, perhaps?
