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It was important to Chris. He got the number and dialed it without knowing its location. It was long distance, judging by the area code. The phone rang, as it turned out, in Friedman's motel room in Austin, Texas. At that moment he was preparing to leave for a lecture later in the evening. "My name is Chris Styles. I'm calling from Halifax. I'm sorry to bother you there now, but I assumed that I was reaching you in Fredricton." "Thank you. I'll get right to the point. I saw a re-broadcast of the Roswell segment on Unsolved Mysteries, and it jarred my memory of an incident that happened about twenty-five years ago, in 1967. Perhaps you might remember hearing about the crash of a UFO into the waters near Shag Harbor, Nova Scotia, around that time? It was quite a news item then. There was even a military search, as I recall." Stanton paused for a moment, "You know, there have been times when people have approached me after one of my lectures in Nova Scotia and asked me if I knew of a UFO crash near there. Something about a UFO going into the water and turning it a strange color. I can't say I remember any more about it than that." Chris was becoming excited. His memories were correct. "Yes, there was a great deal of yellow foam on the water's surface. I was an eyewitness, as a matter of fact. I'm not sure of the date. I think it was in awoeWw es, " "Chris, if you're going to pursue this case, I advise you to go to the newspaper archives in Halifax and find all the press clippings you can. This will give you a starting point. It might give you the names of some other witnesses as well, and if they're rural people, they might be easy to track down. They don't tend to move around a lot, especially fishermen. If you get any dates from the press clippings you might gain access to military files through the Access to Information Act." "In Ottawa?" "Yes - don't hold your breath, though. The government can be tightfisted with this type of information." Another pause. "Look, Chris, I really have to leave for that lecture but if you give me your address, I'll do some checking into it myself and let you know what I find." Chris gave Friedman the address, thanked him, and hung up. He was elated. Though he didn't know it then, he had just taken the first step on a long journey of discovery. He had begun the hunt for the truth about one of the most fascinating cases in ufology. The chase had begun. The very next day Chris went to the main branch of the Halifax Regional Library, anxious to follow up on Stanton Friedman's advice. He needed a date for the crash, but rather than starting a long search through the newspaper files, he decided to follow a hunch. He went to the book section and found a copy of Mysterious Canada, a book about paranormal events, strange disappearances, sea monsters, and - UFO sightings. A quick check of the index and there it was: Shag "No, that's okay. I have a few moments before I leave to give a lecture." "No, I can't say that I - oh, wait a minute. Is that near the Yarmouth end of Nova Scotia?" "Yes. Shag Harbor is near the southwestern tip of the province." the fall of sixty-seven."