1999 © By Sandy Nichols
One of my fondest memories of my youth was when my father took the whole family to see one of the original Mercury space capsules touring the United States. The line was long and slow, and the viewing lasted just mere minutes, but I cherished every moment as if it were a lifetime. As far back as I can remember I had always been captivated with thoughts of what other worlds dwelled among the stars. From the beginning of the space race I would arise early to watch with fascination every lift off of a manned spaced flight. I envied the men who flew these crafts, and held a secret dream in my heart of one-day becoming an astronaut.
In my early teen years, my best friend Alan and I tried to capture a primitive reality of that dream. We constructed a crude replica of a Mercury capsule and fantasized we were the brave explorers venturing into space. Sitting in our bean bag chairs, we could almost feel the shudder of the rocket as the mighty engines strained to escape the gravity of Earth. Further and further we traveled, past standard orbit to the very midst of the stars themselves. But then something strange would happen. While Alan was limited to playing make believe among the stars, I would be hurtled past the point where man can only imagine, to a world of such bewitching beauty that even as a child it took my breath away. There, memories would flood my thoughts and I found myself gazing upon an amber-blue sky that shimmered against tall spiraling mountains, and glistened on gently rolling valleys. I could see the fertile plains where I had walked many times before, and lain upon the soft blue grass and slept in peace and tranquility. I could see the strange and exotic creatures that roamed freely about feeding on rainbow colored plants. I could feel the coolness of the night air as I watched three moons crest the far horizon and the golden sea as it mirrored their slow procession through the nighttime sky.
Then as quickly as the memories came, they departed. Slowly my imagination would take control as I carried out Alan’s commands for a return to Earth. I could no longer remember the uniqueness of that world, only the beanbag seat and plywood feel of our capsule.
The first time… The silver airplane looked small against the brilliant blue sky as I stood at the end of the sidewalk-waving goodbye to my new friends. When I first saw it in the field behind my grandmother’s house it seemed so big. As a six-year-old I didn’t understand the concept that objects appear smaller the further away they become. It seemed even bigger still when the little grey people took me by the hand and led me inside. There I met other children my age and we played with toys and went to school, but not like the school near my house. Every once in awhile a tall grey person would come and watch us play, and sometimes he would show us different things on his airplane. As a six-year-old I didn’t understand why the grey people would come for me. I didn’t understand why I was not supposed to tell anybody about them. In time I would forget all about the grey people. Years later I would start to remember again, and know they never left.
A lonely road… It must be a dream. A dream like the ones I use to have when I was a young child, and I could fly. I couldn’t fly very high, and I rarely left the neighborhood, but I could fly nevertheless. And it was always in slow motion and felt so graceful as I gently avoided the trees. But wait something is not the same. This is not my parent’s yard. I’m moving through thick woods. Where am I? Think Sandy, remember! “Oh God, no, not again! It’s them! Why won’t they leave me alone?”
I was in my early twenties and I was on a narrow two-lane road. There was a thick canopy of tree limbs that hung out over the road, making the dark night seem even darker. I can’t remember where I had been, just the thought that I had traveled this road only once before. As I continued along this road, I suddenly became nauseated and dizzy. I pulled my car over to the side and stopped. I opened my door and threw my legs out and waited to throw up. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. I became extremely sleepy and lay down upon the car seat.
Then something happened that I was not expecting. I was having an out-of- body experience. Floating above my car and surveying the scene below, I wondered what was about to unfold. My car was in a small ditch off the side of the road. Small bushes brushed up against the passenger side door. My body lay lifeless on the seat, my legs and feet dangling outside. Three small Greys emerged from the woods. One attempted to open my car door from the passenger side, then stood frozen as if confused as to what to do next. Another being approached, looked at the first one, then I felt an emotionless touch on my right arm and was instantaneously thrown back into my body.
My conscious thoughts blurred for a moment, because the next thing I knew I was moving through the thick woods that border one side of the road. Two Greys were on either side of me. They were supporting me, but I could not perceive their touch. My feet were a few inches off the ground, letting me relive the flying sensation of my youth. I had no fear of the Greys. Instead I was caught up in the strange rapture of weightlessness. It felt so effortless to move along, not feeling the friction of ground on my feet.
My companions and I traveled
along for what seemed to be a long distance until we came to a large clearing.
Before us rested a craft of quite large proportions. It was oval in shape with
layered sections tapering down in size at top and bottom. Four bright white
lights traversed the middle and reflected off of a metallic skin. The lights
were similar to car headlights, but with a more diffuse brilliance. Also, there
were numerous small figures moving about, engaged in various activities with
different shaped boxes. I was startled that I was being allowed to see so much
detail. Then again, I may have been allowed to see just as much during other
experiences, but just didn’t remember it.
No sooner had I thought this, than my whole perception of the experience changed. I no longer saw the craft or felt the presence of the beings beside me. I emerged from the woods into the clearing, but the craft I had seen just minutes before was gone. In its place was a car with its headlights on and the trunk opened. A woman stood in front of the car holding a small infant. Leaning over into the trunk was a man. The woman was human looking in all aspects, but the faces of the man and the infant were of the gray beings. After a few seconds the faces changed in appearance to human looking.
Not giving this change a second thought, I slowly flew over to the back of the car where the man was now standing upright. I wanted to express my excitement about flying, but the man was not impressed and handed me a box to carry.
“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked.
“I would like for you to carry it into the house.” he replied. “It is something very special just for you.”
To my surprise, I was not the least bit curious as to the content of the box or why it was special. Instead, I asked the man another question, “What house?”
“The one behind you.” he replied.
I turned around and to my complete disbelief saw it. This was impossible I thought. The only other thing close by was the tree line circling the clearing, and it was hundreds of yards away. Now guided by the insane reality of this experience, my eyes were focused on a red brick, ranch style home, not more than thirty yards away. Ten yards further back was the tree line.
The disbelief I was feeling suddenly hurled me back in time. The reality of the first experience returned, and I could once again see the metallic spacecraft and the small beings. A strong realization descended heavily upon me. I was being deceived, but I was helpless to combat it. My thoughts had returned me to the sanity of my original perception.
The four of us moved toward the house, and I felt as if I were holding on to something else besides the box. It may have been a hand or an arm, but I was not sure. We floated up some stairs, and entered the house and I was told to wait. The man took the box away from me and told me that I had done exactly what I was supposed to do. I did not know what that was, but was proud of myself for doing it. The man departed and a tall, slender woman approached me. She beckoned for me to follow her. We floated down a long hallway to a closed door. Behind the door was a room, and it was the woman’s wish for me to open the door and then enter. This presented me with a daunting task. There was no visible means by which to open the door. It was devoid of handles and buttons. In frustration I attempted various ways to enter the room. I pushed on the door itself, but nothing. I felt around where a doorframe should have been for a hidden plate to push. I tried to pry my fingers where the door blended with the wall, to try and force it open. Nothing worked. I looked at the woman with despair on my face. She stared at me with large black eyes, and her thoughts meshed with mine.
“You can do it. You have done it before, plus many other things much harder. Concentrate on what you want to do. Search your thoughts of what you have learned.”
What I have learned? What was this woman talking about? What other things have I done? Was there something that I had learned or been taught that I was not remembering?
The woman’s thoughts meshed with mine once again. A strange sensation surged through me recreating images of past learning experiences. There was no magic key, hidden buttons or recessed push plates. It was thought, pure and simple thought that I needed. I closed my eyes and pictured in my mind exactly what the door looked like. An image started to form, but it was slow at first. Then the image formed faster and faster at an ever-increasing speed. The best way to describe this imaging process was like watching a nature program on termites and their destructive nature, but in reverse. It was beautiful as my thoughts created every molecule of the door. Now all I had to do was to reverse the created process, and the door would open. In less than half of the time it took to create the door, the door disintegrated and it was opened.
“You have done well,” the woman said. “Now it is time to enter the room.”
I walked into the room and heard a slight whoosh behind me. The door was closed and I wondered if I had closed it unconsciously, or if the woman had. It didn’t really matter as I stood and gazed at nothing. The room was threadbare. It reminded me of a hospital operating room with its curved walls and high rounded ceiling. It also reminded me of the medical experiments that had been done on me in a room similar to this one. The thought of once again being an unwilling guinea pig for some horrible medical experiment danced before me. I wanted to escape from this room and the foreboding feeling that something sinister was about to happen. I ran toward the door, closed my eyes and tried to reinvent the images I had created before. Nothing. Fear took over, and I started pounding on the door yelling for someone to let me out. All of a sudden, the door opened. The woman stood before me.
“You did not do well this time. You let fear take over and tell you what to do. We created the thoughts you were experiencing so that you could learn. You will do better next time.”
The woman then turned and I
followed her down the hallway to the front door. A small room to my left, just
as I was leaving, caught my attention. Stacked up in the middle of the floor,
like a messy cord of wood, were three or four beings. Where they dead I thought?
If so, is this how they treat them? And, they think we’re primitive.
The steps that led to the front door of the house now exited from the craft, then the next thing I knew I was in the middle of the woods walking back to my car. Ten minutes later I was heading to my apartment.
A chance encounter… The first
morning of January 1996, was the day that I awakened from a deep sleep. There
was strange feeling that seemed to permeate through my entire being. No matter
what I did I could not shake it. A few days later I found myself in a local
bookstore browsing through the New Age section.
“Why in the world would I stop here?” I said to myself as I bent down to retrieve a book from the bottom shelf titled “Communion” by Whitley Strieber.
But by now my curiosity was peeked so I proceeded to read the back cover. It was a story of a man who claimed to have been abducted by alien beings.
“What the hell…” I said in a voice loud enough to attract the attention of a woman standing near by.
“That’s a great book,” she said. “Have you read it?”
“Huh?” I replied. “The book you’re looking at, it’s a great book if you’re interested in abductions. That’s the first one I read when I started to remember.”
“Remember what?” I asked. “My abductions,” she said. “You mean to tell me that you believe that you were abducted?” I asked again, rather sarcastically.
“Yes!” she replied.
For the next twenty minutes I listened as she described being abducted by alien beings that looked like giant lizards. She whispered as she explained how these creatures would rape her, and caused her to believe that she was making love to famous people. She told me about another group of beings called the Grey’s, and how they seemed to have a different agenda for humans, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She grabbed my arm and held it tight as she continued her story of how they took her eggs and were creating new beings that were half us, half them. She talked of missing time in her life, and showed me scars on her body and one in particular on her calf that was a result of medical experiments by these beings. She explained how she would awaken in the middle of the night with this weird vibrating sensation coursing through her body, and then find blood on her nightgown, pillow and sheets. She also spoke of a recurring dream that she had had for years, then pausing for a second, she said she had to go. She then turned away abruptly and walked away without even a goodbye.
The idea that beings from another world were abducting humans and doing ghastly things to us was preposterous! The woman was obviously nuts. I had been taught better than to believe such nonsense, but there were things that she had said that almost made sense. It was as if some of the things that she had experienced, I had experienced as well.
Through a Therapist Eye’s… I
first met Sandy in September of 1992 when he came to my office to deal with some
personal issues. These were rather easily and quickly dealt with, and we agreed
to terminate services. A colleague of mine who referred him had told him that I
did hypnosis, and as he was leaving, he inquired about this. I explained the
process of hypnosis, and he stated that he might like to return at some time to
explore some very confusing and rather frightening memories, which had surfaced
from time to time. He indicated that he was not yet ready to deal with them, and
would call for an appointment if he decided to pursue this issue. Four years
later, he called, and we began counseling sessions on September 3, 1996.
I taught Sandy to go into a hypnotic trance, then to go to a safe place in which he felt peaceful and protected. From there, I gave very open-ended, non-directive suggestions. For example, one of the phrases I typically use is: "Give your unconscious mind permission to give you any information that you need in order to help you with your life now". From there, my job is to listen, record, and when necessary, to help the client deal with any abreaction which may occur. We then process what has occurred. I am certified by the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis, and it is important for the reader to know that my philosophy regarding hypnosis is NEVER to lead the client, and NEVER to ask directed questions of any type. I often ask clients to view a blank screen in which some scene will begin unfolding. The scene will be of importance to them and will make sense to the client. I then ask what they see, and what is happening, etc.
In regard to memories he had been experiencing, I asked Sandy how he felt and what his thoughts were at the time. As he began relating his theory to me, he was visibly uncomfortable. He stated his concern that I might think he was "crazy". I consider myself to be a very open minded person, however, I will admit that alien abduction was the most distant thing from my mind. As he related some of his strange experiences, he confessed that he was indeed worried about his own sanity. As we talked, he revealed three recurring dreams, and several strange and unexplainable happenings. The hypnosis sessions slowly uncovered many more such events, but with a price. Sandy became extremely agitated during some sessions. At times, he would begin to cry, and finally sob as he related what he was experiencing. During some of the more traumatic sessions, I would remind him that this process was a choice, and that he did not have to continue. He always chose to continue. He stated in anguish on several occasions, "I don't like this feeling. I don't like to cry like this". While I perceive Sandy to be a sensitive person, I do not view him as a person who becomes overly emotional easily. This process was tearing his heart out, but he was determined to find the truth, no matter what it involved. He wondered if he were "crazy", he wondered if he were just making it all up, he wondered if his fascination with UFO's had influenced his thinking, and he wondered if he would ever find peace.
Although I an open minded, I am also very much the psychologist. I began, as I typically do with any client, with several theories as to what could have created such a nightmare reaction for Sandy. It was obvious that he was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and that something or some thing that was quite horrible had happened to him. I have shared very few of my thoughts regarding alien abduction with Sandy, as I did not want to influence his thinking or experience in any way. Because we are still working toward his healing, and at the same time, continuing to uncover information, I am continuing to keep most thoughts to myself. What I am willing to share at this time, is that his experience appears to be genuine in regard to affect and consistency. In regard to who he is personally, Sandy is a very honest, friendly, well-liked person with a good set of values and morals. His marriage appears to be healthy and he loves and spends time regularly with his children. He respects and interacts well with his parents. In other words, were you to meet Sandy, you would find him personable and sincere. He is set apart only by his strange secret, one that he has kept for years. Now, he has made the decision to share his experiences with others.
Pat McCormack Kerr, M.A.
Licensed Professional Counselor Licensed Psychological Examiner Certified Hypnotherapist
Summary… What you have just read is true, but it is only a small piece of a gigantic puzzle concerning the phenomenon of alien abductions. Who the beings are exactly, and why I was chosen to be part of their complex and complicated study of humans, I haven’t a clue. For me the process began at an early age and never subsided. The process set me on a search for the answers. During the search I have met many like myself. Opinions, theories and ideas abound as to the true nature of the abductions. Like others I also have my opinions, theories and ideas, but they are not written in stone. They will only be written in stone when I know in my heart that they are right.
A non-believer once asked me if I really, truly believed I had been abducted. My answer shocked him when I said, “No!” His mouth dropped until I explained that for me the word believe leaves a little room for doubt. For me there is no doubt, I know I have been abducted.
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