ODD STUFF FOUND

Some people will not like this because it is true.

There are many inconsistencies that I have found on your planet. On one side of the information reality I find that a lie or removing detail allows people to accept a story. On the other side of the reality would be the things I found which, although complicated are actually factual.

This may upset someone, but if you do not believe what I found you are more than welcome to follow each step for yourself. It starts with my first visit to Bethlehem. Going there in January meant it was not the tourist season, so getting there was a bit tough. Bethlehem sits just four miles southwest of Jerusalem, but really in a whole different world. There is an elevation difference and although Jerusalem is in Israel, Bethlehem is in an area called the West Bank. The weather in Jerusalem in January 1978 was sunny and fairly warm; however, just traveling the ten ground miles uphill (four air miles) to Bethlehem changed everything. The night before had covered Bethlehem with 14 inches of snow. Even though it was melting fast, the roads were definitely a mess.

Every tourist going to Bethlehem used to go to only one place, and that would be the Church of the Nativity built in the 4th Century. Going there, I already knew that the church was not built over the “spot” that Jesus was born. That knowledge was lost to normal people. In the 4th Century that space was a small meadow where the local pagans worshiped. To stop the Pagans, the Catholic Church, as it was at that time, built the Church of the Nativity over the meadow. The Pagans just moved four hundred feet due east of Manger Square to the next meadow, which is a Pagan Park now. When I entered the Church of the Nativity through the low arched door, four feet from the entrance there was a bronze plaque on the floor that said in several languages “This is the Spot.” Well, it actually said “This is the birthplace of Jesus and (such.)” To the right of the spot was an alter set up and to the left of the spot against the far wall there were stacked wooden folding chairs. I mentioned the low arched door. At the time the church was built, if you were five feet tall (the top of the arch) you were considered to be extraordinarily tall. The average height of people then was about four foot four for women and around four foot six for men. When you think of Jesus accurately, you must realize that is how tall he really was; about four foot six and he had olive colored skin, just like everyone else in the area. Also you may want to keep in mind that clothing was expensive and the average person wore just a single gown (long shirt with a rope at the waist) and wore no other garments.

I had the opportunity to visit Bethlehem just one year later in January 1979. That time there was only about three inches of snow on the ground and once again I entered the Church of the Nativity. (A side note here: Due to earth warming, since the mid-80’s it has only rarely snowed in Bethlehem; however, from the 70’s and before, snow was common at least once in the winter.) When I entered the church the entire interior was torn up. The Bronze “spot” was leaned up against the back wall, no chairs around, and the alter was pushed against the far right wall. Nearly all the original floorboards were torn up revealing dirt and in an area along the left wall a new floor was being placed, and tiles on top of that. Some of the back wall was knocked out revealing other rooms not usually seen by the public.

[At this point I would like to inject another experience that is more telling about modern humans and height. Like I have mentioned, I do not usually do just what tourist do. I get out, get dangerous, and learn more. In Naples Italy most tourists stick to the downtown region or take tourism busses to special sites. I hiked a lot, rode trains or busses and met lots of people. One really telling moment was early afternoon far away from any tourist traps. The street was filled with mostly women going to market. I am 5 feet 5 inches tall and at this time I noticed that I was a full head above a great majority of the people around me. The average height of the Italian women over the age of 40 would have been about 4 foot 10 inches. Just thought I would mention that.]

I returned to Bethlehem a third time just six months later, in June 1979 and the tourist busses were running and getting there was a lot easier. The buses made two stops in Bethlehem. The traditional stop at the Church of the Nativity was used and another stop at the newly commissioned Lutheran Christmas Church. The expanded church was part of an effort by the Palestinian National Authority to increase tourism, and there was a rumor of opening the Monastery to tourists. When I approached the Church of the Nativity, I saw that some stone blocks had been inserted under the arch and it was now at six feet in height making entry by modern humans a bit easier. When I entered the church I saw an all new tiled floor, the bronze plaque “spot” was moved towards a new back wall so it was about fifteen feet from the door and an all new and larger alter was installed on the right. On the left was a small curio shop.

Since it was not winter, I did not have to worry about a cabbie waiting for me to finish being a tourist. Busses were going to be running hourly all day long. So I decided to explore the area. Being the “West Bank,” Americans were being told to stay with the buses, but I always explored on my own. In fact, I found all the people I met were both friendly and spoke perfect English. I ate a meal with one family, but I have no idea what any of it was. In Panama I would eat from the street vendors selling monkey meat, but also noticed there were no stray dogs around. Well, back to the West Bank. I asked this family if there were any traditional buildings around, some that would fit in the area as easily two thousand years ago as they do now. To my amazement, they said in the next valley, leading into the Judean Desert were many traditional homes. So after the meal, that is where we hiked to.

Each traditional home was on a lot about thirty feet wide against the street and about fifty feet deep. Fencing around the lot was made up of anything the owners could gather to make a fence that livestock would not go through. Most of the animals were goats with a couple of chickens and rabbits. Centered against the street was the house at about twelve feet wide and centered on the ground floor of the house was a five foot doorway with a gate. The ground floor was the animal’s shelter along with a feeding trough with edges raised about six inches above the ground. The trough was about 4 feet long. In the traditional Christmas story, this would have been the manger. The walls were mud brick and plaster and about eight inches thick. At six feet above the ground was the underside of the first floor of the house. A ladder of sorts nailed against the wall on the right of the entrance led to a trap door. The man that I walked over with said his cousin lived there, and he knocked. The trap door opened and after a lengthy exchange of greetings, we were invited up. The bottom floor of the home had a five foot ceiling and in the back was another tacked ladder, two boards, leading to another trap door. The man I was with interpreted for me and all my questions. The house had been in the family for a few hundred years and constantly maintained. It was the tenth or twelfth house built on the same spot over many hundreds of years. He said it originally was an Inn. People would knock on the first trap door, be in out of the weather, and lay a blanket down to sleep on. When the floor was full, then no more people could stay. Above this area was the real home which was a one room living space for the family; or, about six people. There lived three adults (parents and one grandparent) and three kids. A bathroom was a bucket which was poured out the rear window with the livestock manure. So, back to the Christmas Story, when there was no room at the inn it meant that the first floor had all the sleeping people it could handle. Also, it would be one of the sleepers who would roll over and answer any knocks on the trap door.

There is only one more thing I would like to say about the Christmas Story. There is a lot more information of accuracy that you can find, but not this: Three wise men came to the birth from the East. The story says they were following a star that guided them to Bethlehem. There is very little accuracy to that part of the story. The three “wise men” were court astrologers, probably from Ur, a remnant of the Sumerian empire. In their training as astrologers they would have been very familiar with the third eye chakra meditation. The third eye, our pineal gland is the seat of the soul. It is shaped like a pinecone and is filled with vitreous humor the same as the eyes. All ancient religions and early christian religions used the pinecone symbol. Even the Pope’s staff today is topped with the pinecone symbol of the pineal gland. Learning to access your third eye vision allows you to see more than the other two eyes. In this case, the Astrologers would have at some time been meditating in the third eye and saw that as they moved their heads, a bright point of light would keep showing up. Knowing that only something very spiritual would be happening, they prepared for the trip and left about a month before the birth. That is where the guiding star was, and still is. Faint though it may be, it still exists in a valley half way between Bethlehem and Bayt Sahur. To learn more about the third eye, YouTube is full of excellent information. The development of the third eye is responsible for Indigo Adults and Crystal Children; in other words, more to look up in YouTube. This is real. Following a star in the sky is not.

If ever you get to Rome, there is one very interesting thing you can do. It is not a tourist thing. In fact, when you ride the tourist bus to any of the oldest churches, go inside and look around, but exit quickly. The churches are indeed old, but most of what is inside are copies of originals so that the originals can be protected in an underground vault. Instead, squeeze through the fences and walk around the outside of the churches. At the very lowest layer of stones that were laid as a base for the church itself, take some pictures. What you will find on those stones, kept out of public view, are images of people who are not quite like we are, images of warriors clearly fighting off what we would call dinosaurs, and many other things that are part of mythology. At least we are taught they are myth. After looking at the base stones of the oldest Christian churches, I have pause to wonder if they are mythology, or a religion purging the world of anyone not like them, and writing out of history such things as wood sprites and elves. If they did not exist except in lore, why take the trouble to engrave hard stone with their defeat fifteen centuries ago and then not allow people to see the engravings? Interestingly, the phrase knock on wood comes from the beginning of human time and referred to knocking on the wood of a tree while talking if you did not want the wood sprites living at that tree to hear what you say. Then you have the church base engravings of the Christian warriors killing the wood sprites, but the expression lived on.

In the old world I have seen several trilithons. A trilithon is a quarried stone of great weight and often placed over piers so that it could be easily 20 feet above the original ground level. They can also be used as a base for a temple. The one I saw in Malta was in a location called Flagar Qin and is the one that is 57 tons and placed 20 feet above the ground to make an entrance to a special place. Supposedly, it was built by giants (local lore) and has been dated to about 5000 B.C. or 7,000 years ago when the strongest metal made by humans was copper. When you see these stones in person it is easier to believe that giants moved the stones rather than a cave dwelling human that woke up one day and said “let’s quarry stones from 50 to 90 tons each and build a place of prayer. It will only take 10 generations to complete.” Modern tests have shown that modern humans do not have the ability to move these stones with cranes, D-9 Cats or anything else.

Another trilithon that I saw was in Lebanon at Baalbek. These three stones are cut with perfect edges, perfectly rectangular, and are over 30,000 tons each. They are the top caps of dozens of stones that are 25 tons each. So the small 25 ton stones were laid, then the three trilithons were placed on top of them to make the outer floor of a temple complex. Although the temple complex was built by the Romans, they did not put the trilithons there. That was a much older work by several thousand years. I will agree with any model of moving them other than Neolithic Humans. But, there was a way then that is nearly lost to us now. Even the Giants that lived then would be too weak for the job.

The Inca of Peru did a lot of stone work and what they used was a plant. The juice of the plant would melt rock. Since the plants were used during monolithic times for building, all the plants were used up from their sources for Europe, Asia and Africa. Some still do exist in the mountains south of the Inca city of Machu Picchu. Explorers of the early 1900’s told stories of finding this odd plant but were laughed at. Local Peruvians told of ancient stories about the plant being used to soften stone to build walls and making perfect seams. The plant stood about one foot above the ground, spread by root only so it grew in patches. The leaves, reddish in appearance, looked similar to maple leaves.

So, I believe in the plant, and I believe the monolithic period was over when humans could no longer find the plant. Just like Easter Island and the natives cut down all the trees to move their statues and then the island could no longer support life; so too, with the loss of the plant then no more monothiths. Hmmm, aren’t we cutting down too many trees too? To read more about strange things and the plant that melts rock, Google “[PDF] Earths Forbidden Secrets Part One-Maxwell Igan.pdf” and you will find the "Welcome to the Crowhouse" entry. Download and use is free. Read to approximately Figure 60, and you will learn all about the plant. Many things in this document I have seen. Many, many more I have not seen. I wonder if I have also seen the plants on my hikes to remote locations.

Of Airplanes and Triangles

There has been so much published in so many ways about the Bermuda Triangle that I will not go into any of that. Losses of both people and their conveyances throughout the greater Triangle area are well documented. It is not a condition just seen off the East Coast of the U.S., but also the same circumstance exists off the coast of Japan in the Dragon’s Triangle. However, even with so much documentation there are still many who doubt that it is a real force. Personally, I have no doubts at all. Early in the year of 1969 I was in the Marines on a sea cruise with the USS Guadalcanal. This was a small helicopter aircraft carrier on which my squadron HMM-365 with about eight CH-46D aircraft was attached. I guess our purpose was to travel throughout the Caribbean Sea to insure everybody was being nice. Usually the common Marine was not told where we were or where we were going. Sometimes we would pull into a port and be allowed to check out the natives. We would test the local food and beverage just to insure all was OK. It was a tough job but someone had to do it. In fact, I made three trips to the Caribbean this way and did not miss very many ports of call in the island chains, South America, or Central America. I transferred between three squadrons just for the trips. HMM-162, HMM-261 and HMM-365. I had a great advantage in knowing just where we were. I was the primary electronics technician for the squadron and had my own shop on the ship and a special large white unit about 10 feet by 20 feet in floor space and tall enough to stand in. Came with its’ own power generator and air conditioner. If we off-loaded on to some hot and sweaty island for war games, my little hut was very popular. Usually, when at sea, I stayed in my office fixing all the electronic aviation equipment that others would test and pass/fail on the aircraft. Once in a while I would have a problem with a piece of equipment wherein it would work on my bench but not in the helicopter. In a case like that I would put it in the plane myself and check all the systems working together. I was fully checked out on the CH-46D and was one of the rare Avionics Crew Chiefs. Most Crew Chiefs were from the metal shop. I could get in the Helicopter, pump the hydraulics, start the APU, bring all the systems on line and work on anything. On one evening this is exactly what I was doing. The piece of equipment I was working on that evening was an ARN-52(v) TACAN. Tacan stands for Tactical Air Navigation. In civilian aircraft the same type of equipment is called a VOR-TAC Variable Omni Ranging for the VOR. All the tacans could communicate with each other and tell each operator what direction and how far away the other airplane was. I was testing the channels and hit a response. I locked into an aircraft that was 50 miles away to our north and headed right for us. At that time we were off the north side of the island of Saint Thomas slowly headed westward towards San Juan, PR. Since the system was working, I shut everything down and went outside to find out if I could see the airplane headed in. It was late in the day just before sundown and quite warm. Once on the flight deck and all was quiet, I looked to the north and could make out the plane headed for us. It had four props and a fairly good size. The aircraft seemed to be going slow and I wondered how close to stall speed they were; in other words, every aircraft has a minimum speed for flying. If under the minimum speed it would not stay in the air and would then glide like a falling rock. Since I was on the starboard side of the ship looking up, several others stopped to watch whatever it was I was looking at. The plane was close enough now, maybe just a mile away and we could hear the engines. Then the plane vanished! Within a half mile of where I was standing, looking overhead, the airplane vanished and no more sound of the engines. Soon the sun set, it was a bit darker, and on the public address system for the ship called the 1MC, came the order for “All hands on deck” and all the ships spot lights came on. We turned towards the location where the aircraft vanished and nothing was found. Several of us were interviewed concerning what we saw. What I saw was a verified contact (via my TACAN) and a visual of the plane at an altitude of maybe 1000 feet. It was less than a half mile away and just vanished. The incident was hushed up and I heard no more. When on the internet a few years ago I remembered the incident. I tried to discover more about it but the entry was very cryptic. Vanished: 1969, March 8: big Douglas DC-4 in cargo service; after leaving the Azores. Crew: 3. N3821 They left the Azores and flew towards San Juan, PR, and almost made it. I wonder where they went. Trust me; considering the evidence, I do not want to follow them to find out. Vanishing in the Bermuda Triangle is far too real to me. You are just reading about it, and I lived it.

Today comes right after tomorrow

When I graduated from High School I sent off papers to various colleges, various companies, and the Marines. I figured the first answer would be good enough. The last few graduating classes were soon accompanied by funerals with flags. The Marine recruiter showed up first, my Mother signed for me and soon I was in the Marines. I’m not too fond of 1967. But it made me pay too much attention to the world.

During the last ten years I have noticed the world has been overflowing and pouring into my life. Cable TV, Internet, and social organizations have all been lightning conduits for an overload of information about the world. I could ask any neighbor the current status of Lohan or their opinion of the secret second deep well in the Gulf and the only response I would expect would be “you don’t know?”

Now I see the world, the greater world I have tried to hard all these years to ignore. Not just the world now, but the world of the future. Now, I see the wars in peacetime, the nation going broke, people living on the streets, 20% of all the kids in this nation and other modern nations listed as starving, and greater amount in all other nations. I am aware of severe drought in all the grain producing nations of the earth except North America and that Iran gets one super tanker of fresh water from Sweden every day so they can stay alive.

For the future world we are being faced to look at, all the entitlement programs are running out of money over the next few years and the price of potato chips is going up. How do we determine what is important in the future or are they all tied together? We now live on the edge of several possibilities for the future and no way to know which are important or whether they all start tomorrow or The Day After. Wars lead to wars and rhubarb is best given to the neighbors.

We seem to have this 2012 thing to worry about now. The year 2012 by itself will be a boring year. It is what other people do with it that will be dangerous for all of us. A lot of religious people all over the world want it as an excuse to start the great religious war. This will be at a time when so many of the humans on this earth are “enlightened.” The Indigo Adults are just now applying pressure to their environments and the Crystal Children are now controlling all the people they can reach from their self imposed cells. This all creates a feedback loop across history. People who are aware of what can happen are sending that information to sensitive people in the past. Many of those in the past wrote down their notes of what they see in the future. Much of what is seen now and sent back is untrue. The real big problem is that it can all be a self fulfilling prophecy. I expect mother earth to tire of our over abundance and take measures to fix the problem.

Life is sweet—as long as no one has ants in the pants.

When Neighbors Look Different

We were sitting in the bucket front seats of the 1967 green Mustang. Even though we were parked out in the woods and five miles from McCall up the East side of the lake, bucket seats make it difficult to do much more than kiss on a “parking date.” The other couple that had gone to the woods with us had decided to get out of the back seat of the car and sit on the trunk of the Mustang. For as late as it was, around 10pm this August night in 1968, the air was still quite warm. This was the most common type of dating in the Donnelly-McCall Idaho area for the late 60’s.

There was one odd out-of-place item in the area that we noticed on the way in to the parking space. A log that was not rotted was partially in the roadbed as if it had been dropped there. We all commented on it on the way in. It was quite a mystery for us. We have all spent most of our lives in the woods hunting and fishing. For those of you not used to the woods, here is the problem. Roadbeds that are used a lot do not suddenly have a four foot chunk of log tossed on them, particularly if the log has a diameter of about a foot and green enough to weigh around 100 pounds. It is even more of a mystery since it was not rotted at all. (Ok, if rotted it would make sense because bears will pick up and toss a rotted log, hope it breaks up a bit and dig all those yummy grubs out of it.) We have all seen bears with logs. Deer and elk will not usually move a log but they do play with them.

Well, back to the important business of the parking date. I was sitting in the front seat with my date, and my friend Don was sitting on the trunk of the car (which makes a good seat) with his date. Soon, there is a tap on my window and Don, at the closed window, is giving the universal sign for silence, a finger over the lips. So, quietly I cranked the handle, lowering the window, and giving Don a chance to whisper. What he whispered to me was that all the time they were on the trunk, something kept circling the car just out of view. He said it really stank badly like wet dog in a hot closet. Wanting to know what had circled the car, he then told me that whatever circled us was now directly in front of the car and close by. The smell was familiar, now that the window was down, but I have never figured out what made that smell. All four of us has had about 18 years in the woods from sometime after the diaper stage, and later when comparing notes, we had all smelled that smell without knowing it’s source. I slowly turned the ignition key to the power position which, by itself does not turn anything on. I grabbed the knob for the headlights and saying, “Ok, here we go…” and pulled the lights on bright.

So here are my thoughts as I remember them. Just add a dash of shock and a jigger of fear along the path of these thoughts to get the feelings of the moment just about right. In that first frozen moment when the lights came on, my very first thought was seeing a look of absolute fear in his face. His brown eyes were wide and the mouth partially open but not showing teeth; somewhat, if you were right now to say lightly “ahhhh.” His face was dark, even in the headlights and he had no beard. Then the second moment of realization swept over me. The face that made such a sudden impression on me was sitting atop the body of a person who was about eight feet tall and built like a line-backer for football team. His body was completely matted in thick hair generally six to eight inches long, except as noted, the clear face. I realized our neighbor was not human, even though much of what I saw said “he looked good,” “his eyes were brown,” or “he had no beard.” The personification was absolute. He was a person, a neighbor, but just not like the rest of the neighborhood – so to speak. By the third moment of thought, in real time likely not much more that four or five seconds, our neighbor spun around clockwise and with one lunge into the woods he totally disappeared. There was no doubt about whom we had seen. Without any doubt the answer was immediate—that was Bigfoot. It is a lot like looking for gold in the wild. You can see lots of yellow and shiny and wonder if it is gold, but once you see the real thing there is no doubt at all. No doubt about seeing gold the first time, and no doubt about seeing Bigfoot for the first time.

Whether it was the right choice or not, we went back to town. The girls were sisters and went to their house and Don & I stayed in his house for the night. Late the next morning we picked up the girls and went to the local café in the Lardo part of McCall at the west end of the lake. While there we met another couple who had an interesting story. They went out to park the night before and after about an hour they decided to head back to town. When they turned around to head out on the access road a large hairy creature that they later identified as Bigfoot was standing in the road. He had his arms over his head and holding a large log. The couple went around him between the trees and just as they got back onto the road Bigfoot threw the log at them, bouncing off the trunk of the car. As you can guess, we were at the same parking space as they were, but about an hour later. There is no way to account for the attitude of Bigfoot. In later years I would find that most of them are peaceful. It is just that once in a while one of our Bigfoot neighbors will be fed up with our human actions and then expresses the anger. At the time of this sighting I was in the Marines and home on leave.

Once my contract was up with the Marines I moved home and rented a house across from the Marina in 1971. One day an old blue pickup was lurching along the street and came to a rest just even with my porch. From that vantage point I had watched the progress of the pickup and now the owner walking around it cursing and kicking the truck. At one point he said to his truck, “If someone gave me $50 right now, I would sell you.” I dashed into the house, reached to the bottom of the cookie jar and pulled out $50. I ran out of the house to the pickup and flashed the money to the owner. His name was Tim from Missoula, Montana and he had not been sleeping well at night. Tim sold me the 51’ flathead pickup truck and I used my car to take him to North Beach on Payette Lake where he was camping. He said every night smelly bears were ransacking his camp and keeping him awake. They never bothered the tent. I knew there were no bears like he described and wanted to know more. Instead of picking up his camp, we returned to town and later went back out with my sleeping bag to spend the night. At about 3am with a full moon, we were awakened by shuffling noises around the camp. Bravely, or stupidly depending on your point of view, I opened the tent flap and stepped out. What I saw was three critters that were distinctly Bigfoot about 100 feet away and walking west along the beach. By morning light, the tracks were all over the area. Back in those days, up until the late 70’s Bigfoot used North Beach to cross the valley. I suspect that as human dwellings increased in numbers and density along the lake the Bigfoot changed their crossover location to Upper Payette Lake. Besides seeing Bigfoot just south of the beach in a “parking spot” and seeing them at North Beach, I also glimpsed quick views of them along the lagoons and gravel pits in the North Beach area. That whole region is now developed in to a busy park. However, if you camp in the hills east of the Upper Payette Lake, you will find that often at night the woodlands go suddenly silent and odd odors waft through the air.

Even though I have seen Bigfoot many times, my new bride has not. So we will be camping at just the right time up there by payette lake. There will be plenty of fresh veggies on the camp table.

Personal UFO report

Idaho UFO history includes Cougar Mountain, Smiths’ Ferry. I have noticed that much of Idaho’s UFO history from before 1970 is totally missing now unless you happen to own a copy of Frank Edwards’ book “Stranger than Science.” I cannot find my issue, if I even still have it, but I know one of the entries from personal experience.

During the summer of 1957 my Dad and my Uncle Paul worked together in a post and pole business located one mile west of Donnelly. In mid-August of that summer they had an order to fill one hundred miles south near Nampa. The flatbed truck was loaded and they left early one august morning. When they returned late that night both were filled with an incredible story.

When returning from the Nampa-Boise area they took the only route available which was Idaho State Route 15. Years later the road would be widened and made a bit straighter and renamed SR 55. Uncle Paul was driving and my Dad was the passenger. Traveling north the trip was uneventful until the moment they turned onto Rainbow Bridge just north of Smiths’ Ferry. By the time they reached this area it was twilight or past 9pm. Also, there was no other traffic on the highway at the time. This area is also known as the Cougar Mountain area. At least once a decade, when traveling through the same area, I would ask my Dad to tell the story and point to what he saw. Most recently was in 2003, not too long before he passed away. The story never changed.

In mid-August, 1957 at about 9-9:30pm, northbound Hiway 15 (55) passes Cougar Mountain Lodge and the road continues following the Payette River. Both the road and the river become narrower with some zigzagging prior to reaching Rainbow Bridge. The road makes a sharp right onto the bridge. At that point my Dad yelled “STOP!” and the old flatbed truck was nearly in the middle of the bridge before coming to a complete stop. What my Dad had seen was something large and glowing coming right up the river at about the same level above the water as the bridge. As they came to a stop the large object rose slightly to avoid the bridge and missed the cab of the truck by mere feet. Once over the bridge it dipped about 30 feet down to the river then pulled up in a high arc reaching about 500 feet higher than they were, then dove straight down onto the top of a hill. They watched a bit of an explosion, but did not notice any burning of the dense forest. The land had not been logged and therefore no roads existed leading to the crash site at that time.

My Dad described the object as circular and shiny on top with a nearly flat bottom. The entire disk glowed with a bright purplish color and was traveling up the river and through its arc at about 60 mph. It was half the width of the bridge making it about 100 feet in diameter. My Dad would seem to be a good person for observation. He was retired from the Air Force with the rank of Master Gunnery Sgt. He had been in the Flying Tigers and when evacuated from China he was sent to school for the Norden Bomb site and spent the rest of the war in the Flying Fortress. He told stories of “Foo Fighters” and the first momentary glimpse of this disk coming up the river immediately triggered his old reaction to those earlier foo fighters. Unable to do anything about the crash, the two men continued north for a half hour reaching Cascade, the county seat for Valley County. There they stopped at the police station and filed a report.
During the evening of the next day an Air Force Officer dropped by the house and explained to my Dad and Uncle that what they saw was no more than a missile that had been accidentally launched from a jet out of Mountain Home Air Force Base, southwest of Boise. The officer added that “You have no reason to be concerned and should just forget about the incident.” I remember looking at the smiling officer and then at my Dad just staring at him for a moment. My reaction was to try to melt in to the background and be out of site for a while. Very calmly my Dad explained to the young smiling officer that he was retired Air Force, added a few details, and knew a missile when he saw one. He then invited the officer to change his story or leave. That was the last we heard from the Air Force about that incident.
The crash at Smiths’ Ferry was at 44º 20’ 11.57 N and 116º 03’ 27.54 W and by the following day, the Air Force had the entire area stripped clean. It is most interesting that an Air Force C-123 crashed in Payette County one year later after running into a tight group of about 200 geese at 2,000 feet and fifty years later there are still some scattered pieces of the aircraft on the hillside. A "missile" in a remote location was cleaned with tweezers, and a C-123 a mile from a highway had only the major parts cleaned up.

Horse Mutilation

I believe it is the time to make this report. When it comes to animal mutilations, usually cows and occasionally horses, seemingly it "just happens" with no witnesses. Some say black helicopters are in the area, but I think they were chasing what actually did the job. A helicopter does not fit my understanding of the event. Although I was not a direct witness, I was too close. Here is my story.

On Thursday night, August 29, 1991, my late wife and I were camping on Kennally Creek six miles east of Donnelly, Idaho. That night at 3AM there was a wild ruckus of
coyotes barking. It woke us up and our attention was on those coyotes wondering why this was happening. It seemed like all the coyotes in the whole valley were concentrated just to the south of where we were camping. Imagine a hundred coyotes in one place barking and baying. Then total silence. By total silence I mean that nothing could be heard. We were next to a stream and could not hear the stream gurgling. Many know the wonderful sounds that a stream can make to lure you into dreamland when camping. However, this night, at this moment not even the stream could be heard.

Suddenly, there was a screaming-screeching sound of great volume that lasted more than a minute. There was silence again, that same total silence defeating even the natural sounds of the forest and the stream. This time the silence lasted for about five minutes. Suddenly, that same loud noise, the intense lasting screaming sound could be heard once again, and after it was over, the coyotes were barking once again. We were listening to the coyotes in some degree of fear trying to figure out what was happening and then, oddly, we both fell fast asleep.

We woke up together at 9AM, discussed the strangeness of the night and decided to pack up and go back home. About a week later we invited my parents to join us on a camping trip and returned to the same place. This location by Kennally Creek had been a family favorite since about 1956. In those forty years very little had changed at the campsite. Not even the tiny pond where my sister and I played with frogs and garter snakes has changed, and where my grandchildren did the same.

That night of the first day camping with my parents a local rancher showed up on horseback and told us the story of how, just over a ridge a week before, just 160 yards from our tent, was a horse mutilation. He detailed the usual findings of precision cuts, no tracks, and no blood. It happened on the same night we heard the coyotes and screaming sounds. Some may say we just heard a mountain lion scream; however, a mountain lion does live there, just a few hundred feet to the north and we have heard it scream, and there was no comparison; however, if you need the mountain lion connection, you would have to have several of them in one place and screaming in more than twice the volume as they can do.

Something that bothers me about that trip is the fact that after all that strange activity and being around 3:30 AM or so, we both fell right into a deep sleep. We both woke up at 9AM long into the morning. Usually by 9 AM the first pot of coffee would be gone, the trout would be caught and cleaned ready for the frying pan and life would be fine at the camp. Instead, we woke up at 9 AM and left the area. Did something else happen in those early morning hours that displaced our sleeping? It is just bothering me.

A little more about the location can be given. Using Google Earth ™ you travel nearly due east of Donnelly, Idaho six miles. The coordinates for the mutilation are: 44º 42' 41.53"N, 115º 57' 39.82W and the coordinates for the campsite are 44º 42’ 41.53” N, 115º 57’ 33.39” W.

An old newspaper article was once posted by Google that covered the story as told in the newspapers. However, Google recently removed the news article.

From the camping spot, Kennally Creek empties into Gold Fork River at about 2 ½ miles south as the crow flies. The area is closed now. In 2005 a new rancher up from California fenced off the access road that had been open for over half a century.

Compare my written view of the "silence" to this person when he talks about a UFO:
http://www.forbiddenknowledgetv.com/page/968.html

Oregon City Lights

On Saturday, 2nd August 2008, Anna & I drove from home in Idaho to Oregon City to visit with my sister and brother-in-law. My sister has a trailer for camping and when we go to visit the trailer, parked beside the house, becomes our bedroom.

We went to bed and after a while I began having some sinus problems
and got up to work on the problem. I decided it was time for some fresh
air and stepped outside and was soon joined by Anna checking to see
if I was ok. From the front door of the trailer we could see some stars
but decided to move to the other end of the trailer where the view was
better.

Clear starry night, some light pollution since we were in a city, but
because it was 1:30am all was quiet and the stars were plentiful. We
saw an airplane off in the distance traveling northwest with the
navigational strobe lights flashing and it soon ranged out of sight.
Then we saw another airplane approaching from the south with
headlights on as planes do for night landings, and the Portland airport
was about 20 miles due north. At first I had a feeling that the airplane
was not quite "right" but did not think too much about it. As we watched
it approach closer to us from the south, I thought "those landing lights
are really bright." Indeed, single lights could not be seen but the whole
front of the plane facing us was lit up with very intense beams. As the
plane moved through the sky it was eclipsing stars--as it came between
us and a star the star of course would vanish, then reappear as the
plane moved on.

Then it happened. The very bright lights of the plane, in two second
steps, began fading. Fade, fade, fade...step at a time until no lights
were on. All this while, and this was most interesting, the plane slowed to
a stop. Once the headlights were completely out, we saw that there
were no navigation lights flashing. The plane had completely vanished
from the sky, at least no lights to say it was there. Also, no stars were
being eclipsed in any direction from where it stopped and turned off the
lights. About 30 seconds after the lights were completely out, there was
a quick small flash, smaller than the outline area of the plane, and then
it actually vanished. Actually vanished because the starlight it blocked
now shown through and no star eclipses were in any direction from that
point.

Plane? I don't think so.