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Chapter Four In February of 1993, I became ill and was again bedridden. After I began to recover, I called Frank and asked him to please bring me something interesting to read. Frank arrived with a big grocery sack full of UFO and Alien Abduction books! I was furious! He set the bag down. “In case you change your mind, I'll just leave them anyway”. He gave me an impish grin. I reached into the bag and pulled out a book. Hmm. Missing Time, by Budd Hopkins. I was pretty amazed as I read. While the writing style left much to be desired, and the focus on hard facts was a bit sketchy, this was not the fluffy entertainment of Ruth Montgomery or the Gothic Existential Angst of Whitley Strieber. It was actually an attempt at “serious research!” I was surprised. More disturbing to me, however, was the fact that I recognized many events that I’d shoved under the rug in my own life, clearly evident in the lives of the people interviewed for this book. They had reached a point of exploring these anomalies and talking about them and retrieving memories under hypnosis. After some consideration, however, I brushed their “alien abduction” explanations away. I could think of a dozen other solutions. Besides, it was too soon to draw conclusions: I needed more data. With some amusement, I realized that there were people claiming Earth had been being visited by aliens since archaic times. There were others who claimed we had been visited a few times, but they were gone now, nothing to worry about! Another group claimed that we had “let them in” by setting off the atomic bomb; they were here to make sure we didn’t blow ourselves up along with the rest of the universe. Some claimed they were good guys who were just a little weird “Frank, I am not going to read them so you just take them back!” “T assure you that I am not that desperate!” After awhile, the boredom became pretty severe. I read on. Book after book. The Interrupted Journey. The Andreasson Affair. The Alien Agenda.