Hi, “Chrispy” here. Thanks to Larry for letting me, Chris Perridas, blog here on “Misky”. This one is a personal account of how a little boy first got dragged into horrific esoterica.
When I was a little boy we were poor. How poor? We lived in a non-insulated, house where we stuffed rags to keep the cold out. The “bathroom” was outside. No hot water, not even a bathtub. We lived there from before I was born through the early 1970′s with almost no change other than what the city forced the landlord to do. The house was adjacent to a rail road repair yard, next to tracks (I still recall the constant clickety-clack), and directly above the flight path of the airport when most of the airplanes still had propellers. They usually were about 200 feet over us as they landed.
My mother worked a number of part-time cleaning jobs to help out and pay our meager rent (maybe it was $40, I can’t recall) and bills. As this was over 40 years ago, it probably is safe to speak of these things. She had to take me with her as she did not think I should stay home by myself. One of these places was at a dental office, and I recall playing with beads of mercury. Probably not a smart thing to do with what we know about mercury, but compared to all the hype of mercury vapors now, I don’t see that it affected me much. I ended up getting two college degrees.
Another place she cleaned was the little local library in our community, now long ago torn down. I had to sit quietly while she mopped and dusted. She let me remove the books as long as I put them back exactly where I took them. As I went week after week, I read a lot of books – for free. I loved books then, and I love books now.
I could read pretty quickly back then, and it was out of necessity as I had to return the book within an hour – about how much time it took her to mop, dust, and sweep.
One book I spied was called Interrupted Journey, which I thought might be about some adventure. I liked adventure stories in those days. I can no longer remember the year, but since the book came out in October 1966, it was likely the following summer of 1967 that I noticed it.
It scared me to death.
It told me things I never knew about.
I had never really thought much of New England (I lived in Kentucky). The book told me about a place called New Hampshire, about Civil Rights, and interracial marriage – all new to me at the age of almost 11. And while I was into everything space-based (clipping every new article about the brand new upcoming Apollo project) I was unfamiliar with UFO’s or flying saucers. Maybe I had seen an old movie, but in 1967 reruns and old movies were still just coming into their own.
I had never heard of alien abduction. At 11, I certainly didn’t know about kidnapping, aliens, medical rape, or for that matter much about sex at all.
Needless to say, my mind was blown. And I had no one to talk to about this as I had no close friends then.
What did I read in that John Fuller book? About a poor innocent couple driving home from a long trip. I could relate as I sometimes went to my grandma’s farm in the tiny place called White City. It was dark! They saw something, then that something grabbed them, and did all sorts of unspeakable things. And Fuller told what those things were.
Today, a quick Google and you will find out about every detail of their experience. Both are gone now. Skeptics have decided they were everything from kooks to sleep deprived. Believers have drawn maps of where their abductors came from. A new group of esoteric investigators believe that the truth is far more complicated. Some of what they experienced was disorientation and sleep deprivation, other parts lend credence that something very bad happened to these quiet, hard working people. The government certainly checked them out, and their highly skeptical. expert therapist simply stated that while he did not believe in flying saucer aliens, they did, and that was all that mattered.
They did everything in their power to keep their secret. They struggled with what today is called post-traumatic stress disorder. They got the best help available in the United States at that time. They wanted to get healthy, get past this event, and continue to work for their community and bring people peace in the midst of Civil Rights struggles.
Then a reporter slipped the news out, and a firestorm enveloped the couple threatening their jobs, their lives, and their hard-won reputation. This led to the book, and Betty’s lifelong crusade to vindicate themselves – even after Barney passed on. By almost all who knew them, they were just nice people who had a horrible thing happen. They died with no explanation of what happened, only various possible solutions of what occurred. The one that stuck was that they were accosted and examined like lab rats by some unknown extraterrestrial group. Then let go.
For a little boy in Kentucky, he has been searching for some answers for well on these nearly 45 years. A few have been figured, many others haven’t.