Yes, touch is an important sense. The most important thing I seemed to
have learned about my personal perceptions with aliens was the time in 1972 when the
UFO lights came down. At that instant, I recognized that a non-human, living being, was putting its hand on my
shoulder. My senses told me something was really happening.
The touch from this alien came at an important moment in my own opinion. I
had seen lights and landed craft since age 3. At the age of about 7 or 8, the
mysterious craft picked me and my brothers up on an irregular basis. I had
recurrent dreams of silvery floating craft landing in the brush and people
inside. Oh yes - people. We never consider them as alien, not in private. They
were friends, and yes, confidants.
As a child my favorite "alien" was a short little guy about
3'2" at most, not intimidating at all. He liked running and jumping with us
kids. He served as a guard and watched some of us hybrid offspring as a sort of
hobby. I still meet with 'him' on occasion, the last time being about two years
ago. My wife met him also and loved his playful attitude.
The sobering thought for me was how unchanged he is today, has not aged a
year. But the way the craft's lights played in his eyes, he looked like he still
has an exuberant love for life. And the intelligent attitude that also is
around! He seemed to project his happiness as he welcomed us in 1997 in Oregon.
Two serious Pleiadian escorts had supervised our meeting with a Zeta Reticulian
The "alien" being that touched my shoulder in 1972 awakened me to
my own sense of awareness and put me in touch with the strong sense of reality.
That's paradoxical, as the next few moments taught me.
I turned, standing there on the beach, halfway between the palms and the
surf. I was not startled, only curious at the friendly, strong hand on my
shoulders. I turned, half expecting my friends from town. But the being's other
hand (I know it was more masculine than feminine, that's a feeling) was pointing
up above us.
I looked up and my eyes were immediately out of focus. The windows of an air
craft were 8 to 10 feet over my head. It was well illuminated and people
[aliens] stood at the windows working with what looked like panels or controls.
The craft was slightly oval and about 25 to 30 feet in diameter as far as I
could see. Their eyes were watching me and I immediately felt telepathic reassurances
that they were friendly. I lost vision to my sides and a form of tunnel vision
closed down my sight and I lost consciousness.
When I "came to," I was walking on the beach. It was not Wednesday
any more, but Friday! My friends saw the lights with me before I walked down the
beach and suggested it was UFO's. I insisted it was not. After I returned, I was
asked to describe what happened. My friends said it was 'UFO people'. I left
them convinced that they believed my story about it being the Goodyear blimp. .
.at night. . .in a strong wind. . . 10 feet off the ground, and with no noise.
For some unexplainable reason, I denied the alien contact. I never discussed
the series of alien contacts except with a woman I met at the beach that week.
She had just left a place in California. Then shortly after that, the people in
the U.S. Government who work with alien scenarios, began a trial by drugs to
I was drugged and asked repeatedly to describe the contacts. The alien people
never told me that the U.S. Government would get so radical about their dealings
with the aliens. But they warned me to pay attention to my actions with them.
The way the Government acted, you would have thought I was a bad guy.
It seems that the Feds thought I was a PSI-enabled alien collaborator. They
never batted an eye when I insisted they work towards a viable contact on a wide
spread basis. I agreed to help the Feds in their search for the truth. The U.S.
Government watches as their craft work our skies, and they sometimes watch us
watching the watchers. . . .
And now for the first time humans are allowed to publicly discuss this type
of experience, but in 1972 it was considered pretty deviant. I do not know
enough about all aliens to make any assumptions about them all. But I never met
an alien I did not like, just a few that I felt unsure of how to co-exist with.
Protocol differs between the alien cultures, just like human cultures vary.
Report from Oregon, United States.