Page Content (OCR)
reports. Perhaps they could help me confirm that I had seen an aircraft that was known, or conjectured to be, part of a secret government project? number for the national headquarters of MUFON. The person who answered gave me the number for the local chapter. An answering machine picked up. The director was going to be on vacation for the next two weeks. I hesitated, but finally left my name and number and the fact that I wanted some information about a “possible UFO sighting”. I was using “UFO” in the literal sense of the word: it was unidentified, and I was seeking identification in a rational sense, not a It was well into September before anyone from MUFON called me back, with an apology for taking so long. Since the monthly meeting was the next day, perhaps I would come and give the report in person. Well, that was pushing me just a bit too far, too fast. I was not ready to hang out with geeks who believed in little green men and who probably wore plastic pocket protectors, coke-bottle glasses, and kept Mad Magazine rolled up in their back pockets! The day of the MUFON meeting, I was definitely not going to go. I was going to drop the whole subject. But, as the clock rolled around, the kids disappeared to various activities, the baby went off with her father, and I was left at home alone. The need to know had not lessened one bit, and I tried to come up with any rational excuse not to go. Surprisingly, my usual state of exhaustion was at a minimum and, with no other apparent reason to hinder me, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I would go and check this MUFON bunch out. If it was creepy, or if I became too tired, I could always come right home. I was surprised. There were no geeks. Not a single pocket protector. And these folks were certainly too old for Mad Magazine! I entered quietly, took a seat at the back of the room and listened to a discussion in progress. I was amazed at how extremely intelligent and rational these folks were; more so than average, in my opinion; and certainly brighter than the run-of-the-mill “New Age Groupie”. No one was ranting a spittle flecked monologue about being visited by Venusians, taken aboard their craft, and transported to Looney-Land. Nobody was talking about aliens-as-God, here to “serve mankind” (on a platter). In fact, it was a rather technical discussion of possible propulsion systems of UFOs, based on observed behavior by creditable 81 High Strangeness — Part One I looked in the back of one of Frank’s books and found the phone confirmation of alien visitations and more mumbo jumbo. I mean, get real!