In my most recent post, “A MILAB or RE-AB Through A Child’ Eyes” I had said that I couldn’t remember how I had gotten home after being abducted from my elementary school. I couldn’t remember for nearly 4 1/2 decades. A few days after I had already posted it my memory came back about how I got home. A quick recap: It was the middle of the day. My teacher and my class all saw that (3) men in Army uniforms had come asking for me via my teacher. I was merely 10 to 11 years old. I have been working hard for decades to recover my memory fully.

Before I get to that… something else very sinister happened. All my screaming had left the goon squad from the military unable to put up with the noise anymore. As I had posted I had felt a sharp sting like a needle in my thigh, and everything went black again. When I could open my eyes a bit I was sitting slumped in a chair in an office. An older officer sat in front of me at a desk with a look of disdain for me on his face. I sat in the chair with slightly blurred vision because of all the drugs they inflicted on me, wondering what I could have done to make these men act like they hated me.

Here’s where it gets sinister: The man looking at me like he hates me puts a finger up in the air to signal someone. As the door opens I started crying, mumble something about hurting me again; I am in fear and in shock. The man behind the desk looks like he doesn’t want to hear me pleading with him. The younger man that came in had a thick Southern accent. Looking at me then the officer behind the desk then back at me says to his commanding officer “Is this gonna be a (blank-blank-blank)? or what, Sir?” He uses some two / three worded “code phrase” so I wouldn’t know what he meant. But I knew exactly what he meant. The man seated picks up a paper on his desk then tosses it back down again and says simply, “Her father is a hard working Naval officer……(pause)… there would be too many questions.”

With that they drag me out to the same car and take off. As soon as the motor started things went black again. Till I can see my school through the car windows, when they dragged me out and dropped me in a heap on the grass and then sped off. I remember distinctly that where they took me to didn’t seem to be a long drive at all: maybe 15-20 minutes at most. I remember it was a large white building with virtually no windows surrounded by mostly desert, hidden from the main road by a small cluster of rocky hills. My family had just moved from San Jose to Palmdale / Lancaster area of Southern California. I turned my head on the grass to see the car with the three uniformed men speed off.

I tried to get up but it was like my body was paralyzed. I could see some people coming down the sidewalk and I called out to them, “Please.. PLEASE help me I can’t move my body.” This first group laughed at me and kept going. “Please… don’t leave me here…” One of them calls back over his shoulder, “You’re a little dramatic aren’t you?” Another chimes in, “Sleep it off druggy.” I start crying and the fear wells up in me that those men just might come back for me. Another group of older kids comes by and I am afraid to call out and be made fun of. It’s getting dusk the sun is settling and I still can’t move my body or even sit upright.

I wait hoping that the group I couldn’t say anything to was not the last people passing by me. Now a couple is walking near and called out to them, “Please, PLEASE! Help me! I can’t move my body I don’t know what’s wrong with me, HELP ME PLEASE GOD!” The couple walks up to me to ask if I fell or hit my head or something. I told them no, but that I couldn’t walk. They both grabbed an arm and helped me up. They were really sweet to me. I kept telling them “to look out for the car with the men in uniforms riding in it….” I could tell by the way they looked at each other that they knew something bad had happened and that I was in shock.

I almost couldn’t remember which street to take to get home. But I remembered what color the house was and when I described it THANKFULLY the husband says to his wife, “I know exactly where that is…” They both kept telling me You’re safe, no one is going to hurt you now…” I guess as they held me up by my arms and we walked towards my house I must have been mumbling something about the guys in uniform. They asked me what the car looked like and I told them. I had been frightened so much that day that even as these good Samaritans walked me home assuring me all was going to be okay that I had wondered for about 10 miserable minutes if the men in uniforms sent this ‘couple’ to take me somewhere else. When e arrived at the door, my mom answers and they both asked “Is this your daughter?” She says “YES….WHATS WRONG WITH HER??” The couple explains how I couldn’t move or walk and they had only tried “to do the right thing” to help me get home. Mom was in shock trying to figure out how I got that way. After the end of the first day when the drugged effect had still not worn off, my mom took me to a doctor immediately.

After 3 days, she asked if I could go back to school, but I was too fearful they would try that again. I also remembered more about who what where and when… I explained to her that what I told her already about these men in uniforms grabbing me from class, drugging me, etc. was the ABSOLUTE truth. She went to the school to talk to the teacher, who told my mom she was very worried because she hadn’t seen me in class all week and the last time she saw me was being “taken midday by three men in uniforms.” Mom insisted I stay out of class a couple more days. But the goon squad from the MIC/Intelligence agency (what a misnomer) weren’t done yet.

I should look at what they did more philosophically all these years later. But what they did to a kid was so reprehensible, so evil and ALL of it based on their insatiable greed for reverse engineering ET technology. I should look at the bigger picture: like how over 2-3 decades my contact experience made jealous as hell. I’d love to mark it all down with some warm, soft and fuzzy philosophical phraseology about the bigger picture: We know how very advanced technologically and spiritually off-world races/societies can be and are… after all these same men who would do this and more to a child isn’t that far removed from being the Neanderthal/Cro-Magnon they were (and some still are developmentally, spiritually) the only difference being NOW they are Neanderthal/Cro-Magnon with a box of live grenades. What they did next will be in my next post.

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