OUR UNSEEN NEIGHBORS (part 3)
Video clip of Whiteley Creek in the day time
ORB AT WARRIOR'S TRAIL (continued) - Pete knelt down to him saying, "Where have you been boy, as he patted him on the head?". When he stood back up he said, "listen", did you hear that?".
Having one perforated ear drum, I do miss some things, but as I focused I did hear something. It sounded like something being dragged through the leaves, but it stopped quickly and everything fell silent.
I did feel a little apprehensive since it seemed like whatever was making the sounds was also trying to avoid detection.
Shining the flashlight ahead, I could see the area where I was planning on crossing the creek. "Come on Pete", I said, " that could have been a deer, coon, or it's hard to tell what. But, whatever it is, it can have this side. Let's get our boots off and cross over".
With that said, I walked ahead a ways and sat down on a large rock and took my shoes off.
Wow, was that cold. It felt like we were walking in ice water as we crossed Whiteley carrying our boots in our hands. In some places the water was deeper than our boots. It's a good
Once on the other side we turned to walk back toward our truck. For a while I kept shining the light back across the creek to see if I could light up whatever had been making the noise behind us earlier.
When we were passing by the area where we had heard the sound of something following us in the leaves, we stopped to light it up to see if we could see anything from this side of the creek. The side we were now on was a bank about ten feet higher than the other side. We lingered there a while, looking.
Still. Everything was absolutely still and silent.
There is no way I can convey the utter power, the energy, contained in that crash!
We decided to leave the stream area and walk
the hundred yards necessary to get to the railroad
tracks. From there we followed them straight back to the truck.
|Tracks leading back to the truck|
Pete spoke up, breaking my thoughts.
"What's that", I asked.
He replied, "something was following us for a good while back there. I had been hearing it behind us, off and on, for a half hour or so before I asked you where Ranger was; and, when he showed up, he came in from the front!"
|You ain't never had a chicken roast 'til you've had one of Pete's!|
Something was there. Call it Sasquatch, Forest people, Hidden ones, Elementals, Angels, Nature spirits, Principalities, Powers, Dominions, Aliens or whatever other name you want, it is there. To be more accurate, I should say "they" are there, because they come in many shapes and sizes. They appear to live in a dimension time-shifted just a step or two ahead or behind us making it easy to appear or disappear at will.
Such an existence seems supernatural to us, but it's just natural to them. Events brought about by their existence on this planet is the basis of all religions, myths, and fairy tales. They are all part of the very same phenomena we call creation. They are our neighbors; and only to us (in our current condition) are they "unseen".
4. THE KNOCKING -Inusu did not realize how many unusual things happened to me until I began writing these posts to my OBSERVATIONS website. Being agnostic for my first 20 or 25 years, I wasn't interested in any thing to do with religion, boogymen, ghosts, aliens, or anyone's opinion about such fairytales; or even the narcissistic opinions of educated atheists.
God or no God? Creator or Mindless Evolution? The subject was not among my interests as the decade of the 70's began to unfold. But, it was during that decade that things began manifesting to me without my inquiry or even my interest. During most of those times someone was with me. Sometimes I was alone.
|Wagons being rolled over to dump on conveyor belt an Robena Mine|
Being on dayshift, I had to get up at 6:00 am, so we were in bed sleeping when about 3:00 am
I looked toward her asking if she had heard it. "Yes, what was it", she asked.
"I don't know", I replied, "look, it's 3 o'clock in the morning", as I pointed to the clock on our night stand. The pounding started again, on the wall right beside the bed. I had to get up in three hours to get ready for work. I envisioned some half stoned clown had the nerve to pound on the side of our house as a prank then go running off into the dark to avoid being caught.
I wanted to get hold of him, so I took off immediately without getting dressed. While he was still pounding, I sneaked out the back door in my underwear. With my back to the outside wall I quietly moved to the corner of the house where I could peak around and see who was pounding. Or, maybe I could catch him coming past the corner.
Peeking around the corner I could see no one was there, so I immediately turned around and ran the other way to circle the house in the other direction. Being moonlight, I could easily see that
all the neighborhood yards were quiet. No one was walking or running, and there were no dogs barking. Then I looked down and realized I was standing there in the moonlight in my underwear.
I went back in the house, told my wife I didn't see anything, and tried to get back to sleep.
It was about 5:00 am when the phone rang. "Hello", I said, as I picked it up. It was my mother calling to let me know I probably wouldn't be going to work that day because my grandfather had died just a couple hours ago at 3:00 am.
The things I am relating in these posts on personal experiences are real events that happened a lifetime ago in some instances, others are current.
I started out intending them to be presented to the reader in chronological order however, as I am recording them here, I am reminded of events I had forgotten about years ago because I never cared to share these things with anyone. However, now that I am sharing them I realize that they too fall into this category.
As an example, the information above about the knocking on my bedroom wall made me remember an event that happened much earlier on Okinawa, in 1967. I hadn't thought about it for years and just happened to have it come to mind as I write this. I will relate it right here rather than starting a new post since it is similar in nature to the knocking article in this post.
|Daniel Areford World War II|
|U.S. Army Air Corps B-17 Flying Fortress|
|M52 Tactical Tractor 6 x 6|
|35 Deuce and a half 6 x 6|
Twenty two years later I ended up in the U.S. Army Transportation Corps stationed on Okinawa hauling ammunition, agent orange, and everything else from boots to beer in either an M52 tactical tractor trailer, or a deuce and a half.
While being on afternoon shift, I got back into
|C. Kenneth Rockwell|
About 3:00 am I heard someone say something. I opened one eye and didn't see anyone near, and eventually fell back to sleep. A little while later I
|U.S. Army 506 Transportation battalion, 44th Tactical transport company, truck # 29|
The moonlight shining across the East China Sea came through the second story windows and came into our bunk area revealing that everyone
was in their bunks sleeping, as everyone but me was on day shift. No one was up. No one was awake in the place but me.
My wrist watch revealed it was 3:05 am, and now I was awake again. I took a cigarette out of the pack lying on top of my footlocker, and walked out on our second story balcony.
It would be another year before I would leave the island to go back home to Pennsylvania.
The following week a letter arrived from home. My mother informed me that Daniel had died. Yep, you guessed it She said he died in the early morning hours of the very morning I heard some one call to me about 3:00 am. He died before I ever had a chance to see him again.
6. 20 MINUTES LOST IN THE FOG - Around the time of the knocking incident my wife and I also had the most unbelievable thing yet happen to us. I still shake my head wondering what to make of it.
We were driving home to Carmichaels about 10:00 pm one summer night in the early 1970's. We had spent the afternoon at my parents farm in the country side a mile south of Jefferson, Pennsylvania.
We were approaching the top of the last small
hill just outside of town, near the clinic when I rolled the window down.
Checking the rear view mirror, I could see the long road stretching away into the starlit distance behind us, so I slowed way down to take a look at
the amazing sight of the milky in the sky north of town.
After taking another look into my mirror, I came to a stop since there were no cars at all coming from either behind us or in front of us. I picked a spot on the very top of clinic hill where I could could see for a mile in both directions. Then I leaned out the window and looked straight up just in time to see the leading edge of an immense metallic disc coming into view over the roof of our '64 Chevy Impala.
I didn't know at the time, but Viv was already looking at it out her side window and didn't respond when I called her over to take a look at
what I was seeing. Finally, she responded as I watched it emerge slowly even more.
I leaned way back, keeping my eyes on the road in the mirror and the one out the windshield. Nothing at all was coming in either direction as she was looking.
"Well", I said, being a little perturbed that she could be looking at something like what I just saw, without responding. I pulled her back across me, and away from the window so I could see if it was still there.
She settled back into the seat on her side of the car and asked, "What is that?".
Both of us watched it emerge completely into view and glided slowly (I'd guess about thirty miles an hour) on an angle in the general direction of the high school we both had graduated from.
I put the Chevy in gear and we took off down
the other side of the hill toward town. The saucer shaped craft looked like it was made out of stainless steel with a continuous band of small windows circling it. I remember that band of windows rotating around the craft slowly because I looked as hard as I could to see if anyone was looking out. There wasn't.
It was heading north and getting lower and lower. I thought it was going to land on our football field , but as it got closer it became obvious to us that it was larger than the football field.
Beyond the field was route 88 heading toward Dry Tavern . Just beyond the road, a large hill rose up about 300 feet in the direction of the Novotny farm.
As we headed in toward town we watched the craft lift gracefully over the goal posts at the end of the field and the highway. Continuing to make a quick rise upward, it glided gracefully and silently over the top of the hill. It then simply dropped straight down out of sight beyond the trees on top of the hill. It was quietly gone.
I quickly made a mental picture of that area by remembering the times I had walked it hunting for ground hogs. There were two hill tops beyond those trees with a shallow saddle between them. A perfect place to land to avoid detection.
We didn't know it at the time, but when the craft was passing over the area, an electrical transformer at the next intersection just beyond the fire hall, exploded and caught on fire high on a pole. It was burning earlier, but it was hidden from our eyes because if being behind the fire house.
However, it came into view out my side of the car as we approached the traffic light. Because a transformer is constructed with many coils of copper wire in a canister filled with oil, the resultant fire makes a large white smoke cloud with green and pink sparks showering away from it.
Although they missed the spectacle in the sky that Viv and I had been watching, apparently the fire department was aware of the fire on the electrical pole because as we passed the station the siren came on.
With an additional shot of adrenalin pushing us through the intersection, we slowed to negotiate the town square and headed out North Market street. With the commotion of the smoke, the siren, and the fire trucks starting to back out of the station as we zipped by, we thought they were all be following us.
Little did we know that we alone were heading out the old dirt road extension of Market Street toward the Novotny farm.