TOM REED ABDUCTION CASE; Part 3

Tom Reed Abduction Case: part 3

I spent the weekend with Tom Reed at the Tennessee MUFON Nashville/Murfreesboro Conference and heard Tom's story of abductions and spoke with him privately and feel he is telling the truth regarding his family - brother Matthew, mother Nancy, and grandmother have a documented history of multi-generational abductions that would span over fifty years, and five states MUFON. Investigators - Steve White and Max Mitchell are responsible for investigating the case and providing much of the information. They picked me up at the Nashville Airport for the conference.

Angie, Thomas' future wife, would move in with him. Angie AB Rh negative, became pregnant and things started up again. After leaving a black tie dinner at a local country club, Tom and Angie witnessed the landing of a craft within 100 yards of their car in Glastonbury, Connecticut.

Thomas shared the family abduction history from the start with Angie, and how his mother was first abducted in 1954. When his mother, and as difficult as it was to talk about, discussed it back in the 1950's with her mother, Thomas' grandmother, the grandmother would reveal to Nancy she also had been abducted as a child. Tom continued with the history and due to the pregnancy, would share his thoughts regarding the indoctrination period of select children.


Thomas and Angie moved to Fort Myers, Florida, where their son, Christopher was born. After Chris is taken home, he is found moved from face up to face down in his crib. Other effects such as rocking chairs rocking with nobody in them occurred.

Around the same time, a televised news report of a local man abducted from Fort Myers Beach makes local news. Tom and Angie were now concerned for Christopher. Thomas contacted the Miami MUFON chapter in 1994. Thomas and Anglia attended an abduction group in Fort Myers, and the investigation began. At this time, he handed over the drawings of symbols that he remembered from his time aboard the craft to the abduction's group director, who forwarded them for verification.
When they were returned, it was stated that they matched markings never before revealed to the public. Thomas speaks with Mary Zimmer, MUFON Assistant State Director. Angie became exhausted dealing with the abductions, and she had now had enough. Chris remained with Thomas after he and Angie divorced. Chris is a gifted boy and has been placed in accelerated programs and is especially high, in the 99 percentile in math by the 2nd grade.

In 2005, Thomas car was struck while sitting at a stoplight by tractor trailer truck in Boca Raton, Florida. He then moved to east Tennessee with Christopher, Matthew moved to Indiana. On his way home from work in April, 2009, Matthew awoke several miles off his normal route home with three hours of missing time and contacts MUFON.

Investigator Stewart Hill will document that the rear of the SUV is affecting a compass. There are other reports of UFO activity in the area. Thomas spoke with his brother Matthew and in time would also file a report with MUFON. Thomas also files a report with Steve White, a C.C. Detective with the Roane County Sheriff's Office and an Investigator with MUFON, after Thomas and his girlfriend are again experiencing activity in their home.

Chris has another series of awful nose bleeds. Steve and Thomas go over 50 years of abduction reports. Steve contacts the Assistant Director of MUFON in Miami who had been in contact with Thomas for over ten years. On February 2, 2010, Thomas awoke at 2:35 AM, to find himself hovering over his bed in a frozen state in an illuminated room. His feet and legs were near the ceiling fan, and his head and neck were on the bed and pillow, his arms were fixed to his side.

With every bit of his strength he was able to move his arm about two feet to the bed's headboard. He could not breathe or move for about 15 seconds. Then the room darkened and he was back in his bed and still wide awake.

Thomas awoke again in February in the same frozen state, unable to breath, wide awake this time sideways in the bedroom floating next to the window above his tanning bed, feet next to the window. The only thing he could move was his eyes, again 2:33 AM.

Thomas met with Steve and the Director of the Tennessee MUFON Chapter in Knoxville. He is asked if Thomas would agree to speak alongside of Travis Walton in Nashville in September, 2010. Thomas agrees and per MUFON's request, undergoes regressive hypnosis. Both Thomas and his son Christopher have exhibited some form of remote viewing capability with Chris exhibiting more than Thomas. Some of Christopher's ability was witnessed by the Knoxville Hypnosis Center, June 16, 2010.

Thomas would meet MUFON'S Investigator Steve White at a licensed polygraph service in Knoxville. This well respected polygraph office has been in business over 20 years. It is owned and operated by a retired police officer. This same officer discussed the events and history for over 3 hours in detail before submitting Thomas the polygraph. Tom passed the polygraph test dated 08-04-10 with a reading of: 0.1 (99.9%). :

http://www.ufocasebook.com/2010/reedabduction.html

THOMAS REED'S ABDUCTION CASE - PART 2

Tom Reed's Abduction Case (part 2)

I spent the weekend with Tom Reed at the Tennessee MUFON Nashville/Murfreesboro Conference and heard Tom's story of abductions and spoke with him privately and feel he is telling the truth regarding his family - brother Matthew, mother Nancy, and grandmother have a documented history of multi-generational abductions that span over fifty years, and five states. Steve White and Max Mitchell are responsible for investigating the case and providing much of the information. They picked me up at the Nashville Airport for the conference.

In 1969, the grandmother Nancy and the two boys (Tom and Mathew photo) were coming home in their dark blue station wagon after a local horse show in the area when they saw an enormous craft. Thomas said it looked like a flying strip mall. Windows surrounded the entire craft, white and red lights came from under what looked like windows, the lights looked as if they shot out and went on and off.
This craft paced their car on the driver's side for several miles behind the trees that lined the side of the road. During this abduction of Thomas' entire family, he could hear his mother calling for him while he was being held in an open holding area close to the size of a football field before being taken to a very small room with five beings who were not present in previous abductions.
In this cramped white and well lighted room, they had Thomas lay on a table. Thomas broke free and ran out an opening into a huge, complex, intersecting hallway that had markings on the floor. He stopped, disoriented, and did not know where to run. He was taken back to the examining table by his escort, where he was covered with a large tube that resembled a MRI machine with holes in it.
Small patches were placed on the left side of his body and a device on the top of his head, and then he was returned to the station wagon. Matthew was unconscious in the back seat, Nancy was in the front passenger seat, and Tom was returned behind the driver seat. Thomas was the second to awake, and saw his grandmother walking aimlessly in the street.
He left the station wagon to lead his grandmother back to the car. By the time he could reach her, she had stumbled into a store that sat by itself on the opposite side of the road. When Tom got to her she was holding on to a child's stroller, just moving it back forth with her head down, lost and scared.
Thomas walked back to the car with his grandmother; she would break out in tears, but got back to the car to find Nancy conscious, and now in the driver seat. Not a sound would be heard during the ride back to the house. 
This incident caused the family to sell their horses and home and move a good half hour away to a nearby town closer to the mother's job. The new house, strangely enough, had a huge willow tree.
Not long after moving into the new home, orbs appeared in Tom's bedroom, hovering for ten minutes or more. He watched every move, noticing the difference in movement and color.
A week or so passed and on a clear day, Thomas was walking along the road next to a park with friends, eating some chips, and heading to the benches, when a VW Bug-sized orb appeared in the sky at about 50 feet up, over the park. This orb was traveling at about 70 miles an hour.
It came at Thomas' group, turned left, and flew parallel to the ground until it rose to clear a house, at the bottom of the hill. It had swirls of orange and red in it, but there was no heat or sound. No mention of any of these events was made due the political aspirations of Thomas' stepfather, who would run on the Democratic ticket indorsed by Senator Christopher Dodd, and be elected Mayor.

Thomas had a motorcycle accident in Hartford, Connecticut, causing him to be hospitalized. For the next ten years, there were no visitations and his family went on with their lives. Thanks to Steve White and Max Mitchell & http://www.ufocasebook.com/2010/reedabduction.html

Thank you George Filer from the Filer Files for this interesting case.

FROM GOD LIKE PRODUCTIONS

I was in high school with 2 other friends. We drove to the mall at about midnight because we heard the rumor that the Luby's restaurant in the mall stayed open later than the rest of the mall, and we had the plan to somehow sneak into the mall and run around at night.

Well we got to the mall and Luby's was already closed, so we started driving back home. On the way back there was a stretch of the highway that was slightly elevated with a lot of forest on either side. Driving past this part we all noticed a bright orange glow reflecting off these low hanging clouds to our left. This glow was coming from inside the forest.

We all thought it was a forest fire and we were looking for an adventure that night, so we decided to drive into the nearest neighborhood and see if we could somehow get closer to this fire.

Driving around in the neighborhood, we could not find a road that headed in that direction of the woods. So eventually we ended up parking our car and just walking into the woods. We had no flashlights or anything, but the orange glow off the clouds was illuminating the surrounding area somewhat. We basically just walked blindly in the direction of the source of the glow. At this point it was probably about thirty minutes after midnight.

After walking through the woods for awhile, we came across a makeshift road in the forest. It was composed of planks of wood lying one after the other. This road appeared to lead directly to the source of this glow. So we walked along the side of this road, in the direction of the glow.

Ahead of us the road curved and ended at this glow, it was enormously bright and there was a strange metallic grinding or roaring noise. We started to get nervous so we took cover in the woods and approached the destination through the woods, so that if anyone was there they wouldn't immediately see us. We came up to a clearing, my friends crouched down and I climbed a tree so I had the best vantage point.

What we were looking at was basically a clearing, at least a football field in diameter, with a gigantic crater in the center. It looked like a classic moon crater, raised on the edges. There was a HUGE flame coming out of this crater, this flame must have been over a hundred feet across and the flames were as high or higher than the surrounding trees. Standing around this crater were approximately 15-20 men in yellow hazmat suits. In the center of this flame I could barely make out a rectangular black object maybe about the size of a refrigerator. In the background of the clearing, behind this flame, were several large trailer houses.

Occasionally a low metallic grinding or roaring would be heard from the crater, and the flames would leap even higher into the air. I climbed down the tree so I could tell my friends what I had seen. We contemplated just walking out there and asking these men what was going on, but we were young and scared that maybe these people would kill us because we saw something we weren't supposed to see.

Eventually we left, and we spent the whole night theorizing about what was going on in that strange scene in the middle of the night in the woods. If it was just regular people doing some ordinary legitimate work, why do it at 1 in the morning?

Several days later I was telling a friend this story, and he didn't believe me. It was during the daytime and we decided to go back to the scene. We basically retraced my steps exactly, parked in the same place and walked through the woods. We found the road and followed it to the clearing. When we got there we discovered that everything, including the crater, was completely gone. It was simply an empty clearing now. We looked around for clues and found nothing.

I posted this story on a paranormal forum many years ago, asking if anyone knew what these guys were doing. No one could give me an answer, apparently it's very odd that these guys were doing whatever they were doing in the dead of night.

THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

NOT UFO RELATED

Author Unknown

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

Instead of throwing the man out, Old George, as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said.
He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty, "Stew ... made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken."

George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. " You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.

"But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ......." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.

George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.

"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln . They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.

As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."

George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.

"Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."

The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.

He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."

George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked. "None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.

The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer. "Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt." The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now."

He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter away."

George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."

George handed the gun to the cop. Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."

"Shut up and drink your coffee." the cop said.

George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?," the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."

George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you." "And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."

George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.

"And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said, "Now git home to your family."

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left ?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?" "Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."

The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."

The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."

George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.

"You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."

PRESIDENTIAL BIGFOOT

Presidential Bigfoot

Posted by admin On December - 23 - 2010

From Fate Magazine

Teddy Roosevelt during his time as a rancher

Just 100 years ago, Theodore Roosevelt was the country’s chief executive and favorite son. His personality was larger than life. His exploits captured people’s imaginations worldwide. After the death of his first wife in 1884, Roosevelt spent two years as a rancher and hunter on his ranch in the Badlands of Dakota Territory. He climbed down from the saddle long enough to pen three books during this period. In 1893, he published a lengthy and most entertaining narrative entitled The Wilderness Hunter: An Account of the Big Game of the United States and Its Chase with Horse, Hound, and Rifle, a memoir of sorts of his days in the territories. Among the stories recorded here is what seems to have been a 19th-century Bigfoot encounter. 


The Frontiersman’s Tale

The report came to Roosevelt from the lips of a grizzled old mountain man named Bauman, who had spent the entirety of his very long life on the frontier. As he recollected the details of the event, Bauman had difficulty controlling his emotions. The event was very real to him.

Bauman was a trapper as a young man. His strange encounter occurred sometime between 1810 and 1840 when he and a partner were trapping in an area around the forks of the Salmon and Wisdom rivers in the Bitteroot Mountains, near the border of Idaho and Montana. The trapping business was rather lean so the two frontiersmen decided to try their skills in a remote area around a small mountain stream that seemed to have a lot of beaver signs.
This area had a rather sinister reputation. A year earlier, a lone hunter had wandered into the area and been slain by a wild beast. His half-eaten remains were discovered by a prospector. People who knew of the strange killing gave that area a wide berth, but this did not deter the two adventuresome trappers.

Bauman and his partner rode to within a four-hour hike of the area where they were going to trap. They hobbled their mountain ponies in a beaver meadow and set off on foot into the underbrush of the Bitteroot Range.

The trappers hastily erected a lean-to  where they stowed their packs, then hurried upstream to set a few traps and explore for signs before nightfall. When they returned to their makeshift camp at dusk, they made an unpleasant discovery. Their packs had been vandalized, and their gear thrown in every direction. Whatever attacked the camp had been vigorous in its assault, churning up the ground and completely destroying the lean-to.

Such vandalism was completely out of place. Frontiersmen knew of the hardship of survival. Lean-tos might stand for years as hunter after hunter used them and passed on their way. Packs were far too valuable to be recklessly strewn on the ground; they might be purloined by the unscrupulous, but never vandalized. Bears and other creatures might be drawn to food, but this was evidently not the case. It appeared someone was bent on destroying their packs.
As the unfortunate trappers gathered up their possessions, they noticed footprints in the ground that were “quite plain.” The urgency of salvaging their goods and rebuilding the lean-to required their immediate energies. The footprints, plain or otherwise, would have to wait.

Two Long Nights

When the camp was restored, Bauman began cooking a meal while his partner examined the footprints by torchlight. Returning for another firebrand, he remarked that the attacker walked on two legs. Bauman broke into laughter at the idea of a marauding bear walking upright as it demolished the camp. His partner insisted the bear must have walked on its hind legs and took a larger firebrand to examine the tracks in more detail. The prints clearly indicated that they were made by a creature that walked upright, having been made by two paws or feet.

Around midnight, Bauman was awakened by a noise. An awful stench filled his nostrils, the strong odor of a wild beast. By the opening of the lean-to, he saw the menacing shadow of a great body lurking in the darkness. He fired his rifle. The shot either missed its intended mark or did little harm to the towering form, but whatever it was ran off. The curtain of night could not obscure the sounds of something very large forcing its way through the thick underbrush surrounding the camp.

The second half of the night passed slowly as the trappers watchfully tended the fire. Nothing more of the great thing was heard, seen, or smelled that night.

When daylight came the two men set out to check their traps and make additional sets. Both were experienced mountain men, but instead of separating and covering twice as much area, they worked together all day. The events of the previous night obviously impacted them enough to alter their behavior.

As the last light of the afternoon began to give way to the ensuing night, the men reached their camp. It was déjà vu: again the camp had been destroyed. All their possessions had been rummaged and tossed about. The earth was churned up, indicating a great deal of furious activity. In the soft, damp earth near the stream were found clear footprints as crisp as if made in snow. The tracks were made by a creature that was obviously bipedal.

As darkness surrounded them, the trappers restored their camp as best they could, concentrating their efforts on building a roaring fire. That night, they could hear branches breaking in the underbrush, indicating that it was near. Occasionally it emitted long, drawn-out groans and moans, sounds that proved to be terrifying to the two men.

With the arrival of the new day came a decision. Although the area showed signs of an abundance of game, very little had been taken so far. Combined with the harassment of the unwelcome camp follower, the trappers decided to leave.

As the two men collected the traps they had set the day before, they felt the presence of someone or something watching them, dogging them. Their awareness of this phantom seemed to intensify their resolve to leave the area.

A Fatal Decision

But the light of day began to work on their manhood. They felt embarrassed about sticking so close together. Both men were experienced in wilderness survival. Both had faced danger from man, beast, and the elements before and had prevailed. Perhaps this reasoning influenced their next move. They decided to separate. Bauman was to check the remaining traps while his partner returned to camp and pack. They would meet at the camp and move somewhere else.

Fortune blossomed at the wrong time: each of the three remaining sets had caught a beaver. One of the poor creatures had fought with the trap and tangled the chain in a beaver lodge, requiring extra time to untangle. By the time Bauman had skinned the beaver carcasses and stretched the pelts, most of the afternoon was gone. As the last moments of daylight were disappearing, he neared the camp.
An eerie silence seemed to envelop the site. No birds could be heard. Bauman’s steps were muted by the pine needles and even the perpetual breeze of the mountains was still. He whistled, expecting a reply from his partner. No acknowledgement was heard. All was silent.

Within sight of the camp, Bauman saw that the fire was out, a thin blue smoke trailing from the dying embers. His partner’s lifeless body lay stretched on the ground by the trunk of a fallen tree. The body was still warm. The poor man’s neck had been broken. Four fang-like incisions marked the throat. Footprints indicated the attack was from an animal that walked on two legs.

Upon completion of packing, the unfortunate trapper must have sat on the tree trunk facing the fire waiting for Bauman to return. Reaching out from behind the resting man, the unknown creature must have wrenched the trapper’s neck. Evidence indicated that whatever killed the lone trapper had thrown the body about and rolled on it.

Bauman abandoned the camp, taking only his rifle. He made his way down the mountain pass to the hobbled ponies in the beaver meadow, then rode beyond the point of pursuit.

Roosevelt noted that Bauman was of German ancestry, and would have heard many a ghost and goblin story as a child. In his years on the frontier he would have heard tales of the unexplained and of the magic of the Indian medicine man. As a hunter and trapper he would have learned the track of every animal in the area. Roosevelt did not doubt that an incident took place, but he gives the impression that a psychological explanation would account for the unexplainable part of the story.

According to this report, a large, foul-smelling creature that appeared to be bipedal repeatedly attacked two young frontiersmen in the region of the Bitterroot Mountains. What was it? Roosevelt did not say. However, something about the story of the old mountain man must have impressed the future president deeply for him to include it in his great narrative of the frontier West.

Written by Gary W. Hemphill, a writer living in Greenville, Pennsylvania. Story published in FATE Feb/Jan 2009.

BECAUSE OF LOVE

A  brother and sister had made their usual hurried,obligatory pre- Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of horses.  The farm was where they had grown up and had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the hill behind  the farm. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to the old man and  his wife, and a landmark in the countryside. The young  siblings had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life.

The old folks no longer showed their horses, for the years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the mornings and a reason to live.  They sold a few foals each year, and the horses were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's end..

Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the old folks.  Why do you not at least dispose of The Old One."She is no longer of use to you.  It's been years since you've had foals from her.  You should cut corners and save so you can have more for yourselves.  How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and work?  Why do you keep her anyway?"

The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in the toes, scuffed at the barn floor and replied, "Yes, I could use a pair of new boots.  His arm slid defensively about the Old One's neck as he drew her near with gentle caressing he rubbed her  softly behind her ears.  He replied softly, "We  keep her because of love.  Nothing else, just love."

Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole through the valley.  The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks.. How is it that these young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?

So it was, that because of the unhappy leave-taking, no one noticed the insulation smoldering on the frayed wires in the old barn.  None saw the first spark fall.  None but the "Old One".

In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to the barn to save their beloved horses.  But the flames were roaring now, and the blazing heat drove him back.  He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless before the fire's fury.  His wife back from calling for help cradled him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.

By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from their grief, huddled together before the barn.  They were speechless as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They  nodded thanks to the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now.  The old man turned to his wife, resting her white head upon his shoulders as his shaking old hands clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana.  Brokenly he whispered, "We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas.  Let us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair.  We will look down upon our home and  give thanks to God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most  precious gifts that have been taken from us.

And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his old and withered hand. The  journey up the hill was hard for their old bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill the old couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty before them.

Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and  it was aglow with heavenly candles.  And poised on its top most bough, a  crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass.  Never had a mere mortal created a Christmas tree such as this.  They were breathless as the old man held his wife tighter in his arms.

Suddenly, the old man gave a  cry of wonder and incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled her forward.  There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift.  Shadows glistening in the night light.  Bedded down about  the "Old One" close to the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.

At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door ajar  with her muzzle and had led the horses through it.  Slowly and with great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping  cautiously through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about.  The skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped  like rabbits.  The mares that were in foal with a new years crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the "Old One" as she moved calmly up the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife.  Those she loved she had not disappointed.  Her body was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her gift---

Because of love.

Only Because of love...

Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise and  joy... and again the peace of love filled their hearts.

This is a  true story.

Willy Eagle

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

COSMIC WORMHOLES IN PUERTO RICO

From Jorge Martin


Greetings.

I'm sending you here three photos of apparent cosmic wormholes photographed
in the sky over Puerto Rico, all of which I analyzed with Photoshop digital filters.

Photo #1 was obtained by a well known physician, Dr. Walter Cotté, in the area of Lajas, Puerto Rico (in the southwestern region of our country, and shows what seems to be a wormhole in the sky from which oval and spherical-shaped objects are emerging to our atmosphere.

Photo #2 was obtained by Mr. Víctor Román in the area of the city of Aguadilla
(northwestern region of Puerto Rico), and shows something similar to
photo #1, but with a front view.

Photo #3 was obtained by Mrs. Wanda Vélez in Lajas, Puerto Rico
(southwestern region of Puerto Rico), and it speaks for itself once submitted to
the digital filters, as you will see.

Please post the images in your blog, and ask if any of your readers have similar pictures to analyze.

Should you need to contact me for more details, or anyone else interested in the images,etc.,
send an e-mail to my new e-mail address, which is:

jorgemartin87@yahoo.com

Or call me by phone: (787) 758-0692

Also, I wish you a very merry Christmas season and a New Year 2012 full of happiness, health, love and successes.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Jorge Martin

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#1 Dr. Cotté's Lajas anomaly .jpg 1871K   View   Download

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#2 Aguadilla anomaly .jpg 2051K   View   Download

Aguadilla Sol-Inv. .jpg 1478K   View   Download

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#3 Wanda Vélez .jpg 1918K   View   Download

Wanda Vélez Find edges - Glow edges.jpg 2215K   View   Download

Wanda Vélez Find edges.jpg 1962K   View   Download

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