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W-File: absalter.html
Type:
Alien Abduction
Date: March 20, 1988
Location:
Richland Center, Wisconsin
Source: The account by John R. Salter Jr.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE SALTER UFO ENCOUNTERS OF MARCH, 1988: THEIR BACKGROUND, DEVELOPMENT, AND
RAMIFICATIONS
By John R. Salter, Jr.
Copyright 1989 by John R. Salter, Jr.
When I think, as I so frequently do, of that night of March 20, 1988--the strange night of the
UFO encounter and interception of my then almost 23 year old graduate student son, John III,
and myself--I have only positive feelings (as does he) about the not-so-different from us
people from afar whom we met and with whom we spent well over an hour. Still continuing recall
images and sequences which have come to both of us, slowly and persistently through the fabric
of induced (but obviously only intentionally temporary) amnesia, consistently point to good
motives and beneficial actions. The physiological changes, more than a dozen, which have
occurred in me--beginning since the encounter and still continuing--are witness to this.
There was no conscious sense of expectancy when we left Grand Forks, North Dakota on Sunday
morning, March 20th, in my 1987 red Ford pickup. A light snow disappeared after we'd gone 30
miles but the cloudy sky continued. We were pointed toward Mississippi, and ultimately New
Orleans at which I was scheduled to give a paper, "Civil Rights and Self-Defense," at the
annual Popular Culture Association/American Culture Association gathering, a commitment made
the previous August. Other activities were scheduled in Mississippi. None of this even remotely
touched on UFOs and neither my son nor I (although we accepted the reality of these things and
assumed their friendly extraterrestrial origins) had spent much time at all thinking about any
of this. We had certainly read virtually nothing on the subject.
In retrospect--even very early post-encounter retrospect--it was clear that the route I had
picked some days before for the first day of our junket was certainly not logical. I projected
Grand Forks to the Twin Cities to Rochester (Minn.) and then to LaCrosse (Wisc.), Dubuque (Ia.),
and the Bettendorf/Davenport (Ia.) area for the night. We had neither the time nor the special
interest in the often rugged, frequently wooded, and generally lonely southwestern Wisconsin
Mississippi River hill country that would justify that substantially out-of-the-way segment.
Near the Twin Cities, John III spelled me off on driving. I looked at the road maps and,
suddenly, noted the illogic of proceeding to LaCrosse and down to Dubuque (the roads between
those two towns being narrow and winding); conversely, it obviously made much better sense to
proceed from the forthcoming Rochester area down to Waterloo, Iowa, and double-highway, and
then to Cedar Rapids, Iowa City, and an hour of interstate into Davenport. Reasonably, I moved
to make this practical change. And then, welling up into my mind like a great wave of nostalgia
from the past, came Kookaburra, the Australian lullaby:
Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry, merry king of the bush is he.
Laugh, Kookaburra; laugh, Kookaburra
Gay your life must be.
The significance is this: An active organizer in social justice endeavors since the mid-1950s,
starting with civil rights and militant trade unionism in the Southwest where I grew up, I
spent a long period (beginning almost immediately after my marriage (to Eldri) in 1961) and
extending to the latter part of the 60s decade, in the Deep South as a key organizer in the
Southern Civil Rights Movement. (1) During the academic term,
1968-69, we were glad to spend a pleasant recuperative year at Coe College, Cedar Rapids,
where I taught sociology before going on to Chicago and four years of rough-and-tough community
organizing on the South/Southwest Side. During that year at Coe, we often drove up to Waterloo
to the K-Mart--myself, Eldri, and our two thus-far children, Maria and John III. On the way
back, we would always sing Kookaburra and remembered those times fondly--along with many
other happy occasions. From Chicago, I occasionally got over to Cedar Rapids and Iowa City to
give talks and, in 1973, we moved to Iowa City where I was attached for almost four years as a
professor in the Graduate Program in Urban and Regional Planning at the University of Iowa. I
(and our family) often got to Cedar Rapids and, sometimes, in and around Waterloo a number of
times after the Coe sojourn. We never thought poignantly of Kookaburra, though sometimes
in the years since we would sing it. Now, in the afternoon of a late March day, 20 years after
the Cedar Rapids experience, the plaintive Australian lullaby rose up--an extraordinary wave of
sweet, nostalgic wine. It was simply overwhelming. In no way could I steer into those
incredibly sweet and emotional waters: no swing down to Waterloo and beyond. We continued to
Rochester and then to La. (If, as I'm quite certain, Kookaburra was drawn somehow from
my psyche by an external force and magnified--intensively magnified--it was certainly a for
more sensitively pleasant means of dissuasion than, say, a conjured up vision of our pickup
colliding with a Semi on the outskirts of Waterloo. We now sing Kookaburra regularly
with our nine year old daughter, Josie).
We were at LaCrosse late that afternoon: (2) fully awake,
vigorous, well-fed (thanks to McDonald's), myself driving--and we left on combined highways 14
and 61, a narrow road. Our firm and clear intention was to keep on 61 when the roads forked
at the small town of Readstown: at that point 61 proceeded to Dubuque and 14 to Madison. All of
this was "new country" to us. Neither John III nor I have many memories at all of what happened
the remainder of that late afternoon and early evening. Initially, of course, it was still
quite light and the cloudy sky had broken somewhat. I clearly recall, as we topped out on one
large hill two or three miles beyond LaCrosse and I looked westward/southwestward to the far
horizon and the late afternoon sky, feeling an odd and intense twinge of expectant anxiety
which registered quickly and then passed.
Although in retrospect, some time later, we felt we might have remembered a few landmarks after
the large hill, a visit to the scene by me and my daughter Josie in early June, 1989, indicated
that John III and I had been under very pervasive "mind control" characterized, among other
things, by amnesia, for the next more than 60 miles. In the June, 1989 junket, I saw nothing
beyond the large hill that I recognized--everything was "new"--even though there were quaint
towns, unique hill formations, and Indian and other place names that would have definitely
registered. (In checking with John III, now in California, no landmarks that I indicated were
remembered by him.) Among other things, we did not recall Readstown and the much advertised
forking of the roads with highways 14 and 61 very conspicuously parting company. Inexplicably,
by conventional yardsticks, John III and I took Highway 14--much lonelier than 61--and thus
went off course, southeast (although the two routes remain close together in that general
area).
Sunset in that region on March 20 was about 6:13 p.m. It was twilight and about 6:25 p.m. when
we came to the stretch of four-lane on Highway 14. (Turning out to be a very short stretch,
this begins 68 miles or so from "inside" the LaCrosse setting and ends two miles before
Richland Center, Wisconsin.) (3) Here the amnesia lifted (we
would say, in retrospect, to give us a clear geographical point for future reference) and later
both John III and I vividly recalled the wider road. (I remembered it very clearly in June,
1989.) We expressed hope to one another that it would continue and regretted when, after two
miles, it ended. I recall saying, "I'm slowing down a little and turning on the lights." At
that point, the curtain of amnesia (but not unconsciousness) descended on each of us. When I
think about what came immediately after that, I sometimes get waves of strange,
"electrical-like" sensations--vibrant chills--throughout my body. John III talks of "spooky
feelings."
And this was the point of interception and close encounter--very close!
Then I was aware that I was driving at a normal speed and was going down a very steep hill by
the highway. Quickly and smoothly my consciousness expanded--an awakening awareness--to include
the bright lights of the pickup, the pitch-dark night, and the sounds of the engine and the
tires. For a moment, a very sharp and clear moment, it was a summer night in 1957 when I, 23
years old, was driving in the isolated Arizona country somewhere around the little cow town of
Mayer. My second thought was, "This was just like that time, then." It was about 7:45 p.m.
Neither John III, whose amnesia lifted at the same time as mine, nor I had any particular sense
of interruption; the interception and resumption had been accomplished with only a ripple of
transition, if even that. (Later we realized that, at the point we'd "come out of it," we were
in the immediate area where the physical interception had occurred.) On 14, we reached the
outskirts of Richland Center and passed through that small town. (In June, 1989, I realized
that, although I had that March night noted the outskirts of Richland Center and a long line of
buildings on the other side of it, I had no recollection of passing through the business
district. In checking with John III, I learned that he, too, had no recollection of the
"downtown" section of the community. We both feel that double-amnesia was once again and
briefly induced in order that we, still somewhat somnambulistic, pass through the business
section without stopping and perhaps attracting negative attention.) On the other side of
Richland Center and immediately beyond, I saw a series of signs indicating Madison, before
grasping their significance; checking our map, we realized we had been on the wrong highway
since far-away Readstown. The loss of time was utterly bewildering. From Richland Center to
Dubuque is about 85 miles, including the back-on-course routes; we were in the Iowa town at
9:30 p.m., pushing on to Bettendorf for the night. We slept well and breakfasted at Peoria,
Illinois.
We left that city shortly after 10 a.m., March 21st, on a double highway going east. I was
driving. The day was clear and there was no wind. At 10:14 a.m., there was no traffic right
around or ahead of us in either direction. And it was then that we both saw a bright, expanding
light coming directly toward and above us; immediately we realized it was an incredibly bright
object, glowing with an extraordinary shimmering silveriness. (The closest analogy I can make
is the glowing coals of an oak fire, moving back and forth.) It was about two-thirds the size
of the full double highway and, when about 200 yards from us, swerved slightly and rose over
the pickup at an angle. We could now make out its saucer-like form and, I think, a slight dome.
Then, with incredible speed, it was gone. At that point, John III and I had three simultaneous
thoughts: This was a deliberate appearance for us and for us alone; this was quite friendly;
and this somehow explained the strange occurrences of the previous night. I then had another
thought: I remembered the 1961 interception of Betty and Barney Hill, an interracial couple (he
black and she white but with some Indian ancestry and both much involved in civil rights and
related activities), in New Hampshire. I had heard of this situation in the mid-60s, when it
became well publicized. (4) I recalled, too, that Mrs. Hill
especially had had a positive, essentially friendly view of the UFO humanoid people. Mr. Hill
died manyyears ago but Betty Hill continues quite active on social justice fronts and maintains
a strong interest in UFO-related matters. I have had an excellently helpful correspondence with
this extraordinary person, beginning early in the fall, 1988. In August, 1989, Eldri and I and
Josie spent an excellent week with Mrs. Hill in New Hampshire and, among other things, observed
a number of UFOs at night with her. (On the way back to North Dakota, we visited the Richland
Center setting and the location of our encounter.)
The remainder of our trip south, while quite interesting and productive, did not involve
anything related to UFOs. (Later in the day, March 21st, John III realized he'd lost his
sunglasses, couldn't remember having them in the motel, and we searched the pickup
fruitlessly.) But the strange events of March 20/21 were always no further than once removed in
our thinking, and were frequently to the fore. Back in Grand Forks, I finished the University
of North Dakota academic year in conventional fashion, assuming the chair of our Indian Studies
Department. (Just before the trip, I'd received the prestigious UND Award for Student Advising;
soon after the trip, the American Indian students honored me with a very special ceremony at
the annual pow-wow.) I began doing some reading on UFO topics (5)
and I affiliated myself with the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON)--one of the several quite reputable
UFO research organizations. (In September, 1988, I became its State Director for North Dakota.
Thus, I became acquainted with Kevin Henke, a young scientist at the University of North Dakota
and a MUFON member who has become an excellent friend and whose sharply critical mind has been
of great help to me.) John III received his M.A. at UND and accepted an important position in
Northern California, directing a grassroots Indian education program. He and his wife moved
there two months after the encounters. (In the fall of 1989, his program was designated as the
best of its kind in the state.) In mid-June, 1988, I sensed a strong, growing stirring within
me vis-a-vis the experiences of late March--and especially the "missing time" period. I began
to put together a series of detailed little reports, outlining the development, locale, and
times of the encounters and our general thoughts, preliminary conclusions, and what we were
convinced was a mutually friendly atmosphere at all points. But, when it came to events
immediately following the four-lane stretch in southwestern Wisconsin, I hit a block (as did
John III with whom I stayed in close touch via A.T. & T.). Then, in late June, 1988, my
recall suddenly began.
Invariably, as they've developed, my recall vignettes--images and sequences--have come first as
vivid dreams in the early morning hours, then recede back temporarily into unconsciousness
before emerging the following late morning or afternoon as clear flashbacks laced with a sharp
memory of the earlier dream or dreams. (John III's recall began in November, 1988, tends to
come just as he's slipping off to sleep, and meshes with mine.) (6)
In both cases, the recall is our seeing things with our eyes--precisely as we saw them that
night in Wisconsin. Although this process is still continuing, (7)
steadily and deliberately, enough has come thus far to establish the context, the basic
components and participants, the points of primary focus, and the ethos. Here, with recall
arranged, is the basic linear progress of our March 20th encounter:
As the four-lane ended and total amnesia (but not unconsciousness) enveloped us, we are gently
but firmly forced off the highway onto a very narrow and extremely rough road.
(8) In June, 1989, we determined, on the basis of recall and contemporary
observation, that this is the Pier Spring Road, about a mile or so in length. This starts a
very short distance after the end of the four-lane. As one goes down Highway 14, it is a sharp
right turn off one's right lane. We parked the pickup near the "upper," far end of this winding,
timbered road.
Then we are standing, John III and I, not far from the passenger side of the pickup which is
parked on the level stretch of the Pier Spring Road, under some trees. It is almost dark.
Completely at ease, I can see two or three small humanoid figures climbing up on the back
bumper, looking at our gear in the back of the truck. Up closer, they are four to four and
one-half feet tall, thin bodies and thin limbs--but comparatively large heads and conspicuously
large, quasi-slanted eyes. There are several of these small people--perhaps six or seven--and a
taller humanoid figure, almost as tall as I (six feet) and not as proportionately thin as the
others. His features are more, as we would use the term, "human"--and he may well be a
mixed-blood. Whatever clothing type they're wearing, it's tightly fitting and, to us at this
point in recall, non-descript. Our communication with them is more than thought-impressionistic;
it's telepathically specific. John III sits down. Three of the small humanoids gather around,
viewing him with as much fascination as he does them. Everyone is very pleasant. The tall
humanoid is attached to us in a special fashion and is obviously our key liaison. Now we are
walking through the darkening woods, up a ravine and over a small ridge, to the UFO which is in
a rather secluded clearing, some distance from the pickup. I stumble and fall backward but am
immediately cushioned by a (telekinetic?) force. Very, very gently, several of the humanoids
reach for me and pull me to my feet.
Throughout this entire, still continuing recall process of mine is the clear, persistent
definite sense of a brightly lighted room--a kind of white light--and a deep-blue glowing
panel. An implant is placed very carefully up into my right nostril and well beyond. There is
a strong sense that the last time this happened to me was a long time ago, when I was John
III's age, in 1957. There is now an injection into my neck, at the thyroid area; and then an
injection into my upper, central chest (thymus gland). John III's face is scanned very
thoroughly with a "flash-light" type instrument whose head is so soft that it melds into the
contours of his face; special attention is given to his chin and jaw area.
Then we are out in the open again. The feeling is downright powerful that the meeting has gone
very well indeed from everyone's standpoint. Our tall humanoid friend walks with me back
through the woods to the pickup. He is carrying some sort of light, obviously for our benefit.
John III is slightly ahead of us. I believe the smaller humanoids have remained with the UFO.
John III goes into the passenger side of the pickup, closing the door. I feel an extremely
strong, poignant sense of farewell toward the tall figure, sensing equally strong reciprocity.
(His emotional and intellectual reactions are like ours: sharp intelligence, good-natured,
smiled a great deal, eager, very interested in things and sad--very sad--at parting. Basically,
I think all of this holds true for the smaller people.) The tall figure and I tell each other
(and John III is included) that we will see one another again in another place, in another
time. Now, John III and I are by ourselves in the pickup. We wait. Very shortly from his
window, John III watches the UFO rise and, brightly lighted, move diagonally up into the dark
clouds and beyond. We drive a short distance to the end of the Pier Spring Road and take
Country Road ZZ, well paved and very steep, back to highway 14 and on to Richland Center.
The still continuing results of my implant and injections (although initially their presence
was not known to me in the fully conscious sense) began to emerge in some cases as early as
May, 1988. (John III has had none of these.) By June and July, other manifestations were
present. My head hair, fingernails, and toenails are growing two to three times their normal
rate; eyebrows have become very thick; and fine body hair has developed all over my previously
almost hairless arms, legs, stomach and chest. Cuts and scratches clot immediately and heal
very, very rapidly. (A denture placed in 1984 resulted in almost daily blood until shortly
after the encounter--four years later!--when the situation healed and remained so.) Some little
age spots have shrunk or disappeared and the few wrinkles in my face have faded away for the
most part. My skin tone is generally much clearer. Blood is much closer to the surface all over
my body--indicating even better circulation than formerly. For the first time in my life, my
beard is very heavy, very thick, and quite dark. My immunity is heightened; flu
bugs may touch me but don't dig deeply in and the few colds I may now get are very
insignificant and short-lived. My energy level is up and my sleep needs, never really
substantial, are down. Although not in any sense a "craving," my protein needs are very heavy
and, in May, 1989, I began taking eight amino acid supplements per day--which has returned to
normal my burgeoning meat consumption! An auto wreck in Mississippi in 1963 left some residual
disfigurement on the right side of my face, but by spring, 1989, this had faded completely into
normalcy. I smoked for 40 years and very heavily for the last 35, four packs of cigarettes a
day (often unfiltered) and then, for the last 21 years, a pound of pipe tobacco a week. In the
spring of 1989, my pipe smoking slacked off to some extent; in mid-May, I realized I had gone
almost 24 hours without smoking--and I then stopped completely and permanently, doing so
without one single physical or psychological twinge! My psychic sensitivities are sharpened
and there are increased telekinetic episodes, especially around electrical equipment. I have a
mild aversion to sunlight and increased sensitivity to lights in general, now preferring
cloudy weather and darkish offices. My left foot and leg coordinate and walk a little
differently, initially running down my left boot heels; there are no walking problems now since
I've learned to let it happen smoothly and naturally. Occasionally, a red welt appears on the
lower right side of my neck, in the thyroid area; and a brown, circular spot about a half inch
in diameter and with a round point-mark in its precise center surfaces on my upper chest over
my thymus gland region.
In the earlier part of 1957, although deeply involved in good causes, I was having some
difficulty in determining just what I wanted primarily to do with my life (portions of which
had already been quite interesting). Then, at some point in the summer,
(9) my focus sharpened into its permanently fixed commitment to social
justice pursuits. My health became notably great. (For example, an effort to kill me via a
rigged auto wreck in Jackson, Mississippi on June 18, 1963, left me seriously injured with many
broken bones in my face and some elsewhere. I was operated on extensively that night and faced
a substantial stay in the hospital. Three days later, so much of me had healed so quickly that
I was out of the hospital and back in the arena--to the great surprise of my physicians and the
great displeasure of the white Citizens Council and the Jackson police.) In the wake of the
March, 1988 encounter, my normally good health has been boosted very significantly and I feel
strong creative urges, constructive restlessness, and a major recharging of my social justice
commitment. John III is doing many positive things in his California Indian educational work
and is also writing genuinely excellent fiction. Two other interesting physical things have
taken place: A watch, purchased by me in 1984, has been quite satisfactory but lacked any
luminosity. I often expressed disappointment that this was so but, soon after the March, 1988
events, noticed the hands glowing. Although this lasts only a few hours at most before
requiring new exposure to light, it has persisted dependably enough. In another situation, John
III's sunglasses, lost as nearly as we can tell at the time of the eveningencounter, surfaced
in mid-December, 1988, behind the pickup seat. We had been behind that seat for one reason or
another at least 100 times since spring, 1988--including every morning since well before
Thanksgiving, since that's where we keep the windshield frost scraper/snow brush. In fact, the
glasses were sitting casually on top of the much used frost-scraper brush! The lenses were not
al all dusty. During a subsequent (February, 1989) visit to Grand Forks, John III positively
identified the glasses as his. The pickup, incidentally, is kept locked at all times when not
in use.
And a few suggestive but speculative things: In the summer of 1941, we were living temporarily
on a Kansas farm--where I saw something big and strange over the nearby Smoky Hill River woods.
It is even after we had moved to a nearby small town, I viewed that stretch of river woods with
considerable apprehension. At some point around then, I developed an odd scar above my kneecap,
an unlikely place for an injury (there have been reports of small flesh samples taken by UFO
visitors from small children at about that age). In that general time period, I drew a picture
(which I still have) of an "alien looking" person (large head, slanted eyes, no ears or hair)
holding a human being. Only a few years after that, I developed a really very sophisticated
interest in astronomy and chemistry. Strange things, difficult to delineate with precision,
took place near Flagstaff, Arizona on Woody Mountain, one night in August, 1952, where I was a
U.S. Forest Service fire lookout and asleep in my cabin at the base of the fire tower. Early
the next morning, haunted by feelings of great "strangeness" (unusual for an 18 year old), I
noticed a rock, two feet or so in diameter, which appeared to have moved 15 feet up the
slope of the mountain, quite close to the base of the tower. It had rained briefly though
heavily at some point that night and there was no particular "sign" on the ground. Unlike my
encounter of 1957 and the events of March, 1988, all of which are very definite and tangible
indeed, (10) these earlier situations are, as I've said,
speculative.
In the last several years, a number of people who have had UFO encounter experiences, and some
UFO researchers, have painted a bleak and oft-frightening picture of "alien motivations"--raising
the possibility of genetic experiments and the like. Other people who have had this experience,
such as myself and John III and Betty Hill, and a number of other researchers, take a friendly
and positive view of all of this. I think, among other things, that we need to look at the
socio-cultural backgrounds of the people involved in the encounters. Urban people--especially
urban women--who live, understandably, in perennial fear of theft, rape, or other attack, are
much more likely, I should think, to view a close encounter with UFO people as frightening and
negative than are, say, rural people or part-Indian travelers on many frontiers like John III
and myself and Betty Hill (or racially and culturally open minded people generally) who welcome
new, unusual experiences, new friends, new challenges. With no false modesty, I certainly view
my life, especially from 1957 onward, as having been a quite positive one to date: effective
social justice organizing in many hard-core settings and much productive teaching and writing.
I was pleasantly surprised in mid-January, 1989, to receive three awards for my social justice
work (both contemporary and historic): one, presented by the general commanding Grand Forks Air
Force Base; another from the State Superintendent of Public Instruction. The "big" one was
given by the North Dakota Martin Luther King, Jr. Commission--its 1989 award--and was presented
to me by Governor George Sinner. In late spring, 1989, I was elected president of the UND
chapter of the North Dakota Higher Education Association (NEA) and, in the fall of 1989, I was
voted chair of the UND Honors Program Committee.
As I've said, almost to the point of redundancy, we see all of this as being very friendly. I
do have several basic, concluding thoughts: I believe the number of direct physical encounters
with the "alien" humanoids is not nearly as great as some people are presently saying. I see
these as rare but not super-rare. I believe these encounters are specifically selective
(anything except random) and, as such, necessitate among other things a good deal of careful
planning and maneuvering by the humanoids. I do believe that, across the Creation, there are
certain universals: e.g., principles of logic, scientific methodology, and the concerns of
bureaucrats about cost and time factors. It probably took several days and a good many
humanoid-hours to set up and implement the 1 1/2 hour meeting with John III and myself on March
20, 1988. I believe these are extra-terrestrial persons similar to ourselves and perhaps even
related in some intriguing fashion or at least the results of a parallel evolutionary course.
They are solid and physical and "all-around" tangible entities, sharply intelligent (as one
would assume trained astronauts and scientists and perhaps even professors to he), and their
range of emotions is comparable to ours. I categorically do not see them as angels/devils/psychic
manifestations.
Their actions (motivations and effects and related factors) are quite positive. While I think
it's possible that there may be some "experimentation" involved, I think this is ethically and
honorably done--and to good ends. However, I believe the basic thrusts focus on helping some of
us (directly) "keep on keeping on" in the business of edging humanity closer and closer to the
Sun--figuratively speaking and sensitizing humanity with respect to the relatively nearby
presence of other forms of intelligent life.
New as I consciously am to the UFO situation, it may seem more than a little presumptuous for
me to, (paraphrasing, I believe, Koestler's Ivanov in Darkness at Noon), point out that
there are some strange terrestrial birds in the trees of "ufology." Without getting shrill
about it and recognizing that there can be "reasonable differences of opinion between
reasonable people" (as I was reminded occasionally a long time ago and still am from time to
time), I do believe that the "gloom and doom" people in UFO research are often either downright
paranoid, motivated by commercial considerations, or ideologically endeavoring to resurrect a
new version of the Red Scare (but I don't think they'll be able to dothat).
I do very strongly believe, and now I'm drawing on cogent impression existing above and below
the water levels of my mind, that the people from afar that John III and I met (and the many
other humanoids who look in on our struggling and so very often courageously valiant Earthly
turf and drama), have good motives, very good ones, and the unfolding results of all of
this--individually if our people can keep an open mind, and certainly with respect to the
long-term perspective and future of human society--are and will be deeply beneficial through
the many, many ages to come.
Note by JRS (October, 1990): Recall by summer, 1990, makes it clear that the 1952 and 1941
encounters are also definite.
Further note (September, 1991): It became clear by spring, 1991, that John III has grown more
than 1 1/2" taller since the March, 1988 encounter. He had stopped growing several years before
that when he was about 19 years old.
(1) See John R. Salter, Jr., Jackson, Mississippi: An American Chronicle of
Struggle & Schism, (Melbourne, Florida: Robert E. Krieger Publishing Company, 1987).
[back to the text]
(2) An odd thing occurred at a Mobil station at LaCrosse. Just as we were
climbing into the pickup after gassing up, a strange looking little man, bundled in a coat and
with a "Greek Fisherman's" cap, rushed, in stumbling fashion, from the station office to his
Volvo. His eyes blocked briefly but intently with mine. As we left the station on a little
intra-LaCrosse freeway, he followed us; I slowed substantially but he declined to pass. He
remained behind us until we took the 14/61 turnoff. In the aftermath of the encounters, our
minds were drawn repeatedly to this seemingly insignificant episode.
[back to the text]
(3) The short stretch of four-lane is indicated in some quite recent road
atlases and maps (such as our contemporary Mobil Wisconsin road map) but not in others.
[back to the text]
(4) See the very well done book on the Hills' experience: The Interrupted
Journey by John Fuller (New York: Dial Press, 1966 and various other editions) and also a
fascinating compendium of articles dealing with the "star map" shown Betty Hill by the cordial
captain of the UFO: "The Zeta Reticuli Incident," (edited by Terence Dickinson, (Milwaukee:
Astro-Media Corporation (publishers of Astronomy), 1976
[back to the text]
(5) Of particular value has been Thomas E. Bullard's massive two volume work:
UFO Abductions: The Measure of a Mystery (Washington, D.C., Fund for UFO Research, 1987)
and Richard Hall's Uninvited Guests--A Documented History OF UFO Sightings, Alien Encounters,
& Coverups (Santa Fe: Aurora Press, 1988). Both men have since provided me with some
excellent insights through correspondence.
[back to the text]
(6) At all points in our joint March 20, 1988 experience, John III and I were
"hit" simultaneously by amnesia and "came out" simultaneously. But, in the aftermath that
night, he was groggier somewhat longer than I and his recall took longer to commence and has
proceeded at a slower pace. It appears that he was "hit harder" than I. He is a little shorter
than I am and much lighter and, on the surface, would be perceived as a less formidable
"problem." Why, then, was he more profoundly affected by this (in part, at least) tranquilizing
process? Was it because he is lighter and younger? A possible explanation, not known to me
until August, 1989 (when he told me) is that John III was carrying a .22 automatic pistol on
his person that night. We were on our way to, among other places, Mississippi--where memories
are long. I had my unloaded .357 revolver, holstered and in a case on the pickup seat. The
cartridges were in the glove compartment. Privately, John III had decided this was a too
cumbersome proposition; hence, his on-person and loaded automatic. Could the humanoids have
been aware he was carrying a weapon?
[back to the text]
(7) On the March 20, 1988 trek from a few miles south of LaCrosse to the short
stretch of four-lane where the double amnesia lifted briefly, all conscious recollection was
blocked. But, almost a year later, in early March, 1989, an odd composite blur--almost an
abstraction--began to emerge into my consciousness in a not unpleasantly sharp and forceful
fashion with an implication of significance. It is a blend of road signs/markers and its
emergence is accompanied by a strong sense that "we should have gone on the other road but we
could not help ourselves." After our visits to the general area in early June, 1989 and
mid-August, 1989, I'm convinced of that which I instinctively felt when this first surfaced in
early March, 1989: It's a composite of road signs/markers from the critical Readstown junction
(14/61) where highways 14 and 61 part company and where John III and I "inexplicably" took 14
and thus went to our destiny! When this composite/blur initially surfaced, I had the strong
feeling that I should write up our encounter experience and this is what I did in my mid-March,
1989 paper--which I distributed widely and which has been well received. In late May, 1989, the
composite/blur arose again--accompanied by the strong feeling that I should return to the site
of the experience, and this is what Josie and I indeed did. At a number of subsequent points,
the emergence of this has obviously been a trigger/signal for intensive and specifically
delineated UFO interest/activity on my part.
[back to the text]
(8) On May 13, 1989, I took my 1987 Ford F-150 pickup in for its first real
maintenance (16,165 miles) since its purchase two years before and, with the exception of
routine oil/lube jobs, the first maintenance of any kind since before our March, 1988 trip to
the Deep South. The service person at Hansen Ford (Grand Forks) suggested that, in addition to
the tune-up and related matters, a full alignment job be done and I agreed. Two very
interesting things surfaced: (1) Although normally the right front wheel is supposed to be
higher and the left front wheel lower, my pickup had things reversed. Computer measurement
indicated my right wheel was .5 and the left 1.0; (2) The left rear rim was bent. The Ford
people found this inexplicable--since we drive the pickup with great care and it's virtually
never off a paved road. We could recall no conventional situation where this could have
occurred.
[back to the text]
(9) The 1957 encounter, which began to surface in the context of the March,
1988 experience, took place in late May of that year (summer in Arizona!) while I was returning
to my home town of Flagstaff from a quick trip to Phoenix. The experience is definite; the
details still remain somewhat murky. The humanoids involved are of the same basic racial group
as those in March, 1988. The business of somewhat darker eyebrows and beard, heightened
immunity, much energy, at least some aversion to sunlight and something of a preference for
cloudy and dampish weather, all came after the May, 1957 experience and then, slowly, faded in
the mid and late 1970s into the 1980s--until after March 20, 1988, when all of this bounced
back more noticeably than ever before, plus much more. As long as I can recall, I've had some
psychic abilities which have been noticed, over the years, by family and friends. There was
some sharpening of these after May, 1957; there was no decline in the 1970s and 1980s; and
there has been an increase since March, 1988.
[back to the text]
(10) Almost from the moment of the March, 1988 encounter, I have had no
hesitation in talking openly about the experience, its ramifications, and my positive
perceptions of it. I have encountered little open skepticism and, although initially there was
some fear by several older persons, this appears to have passed. Almost all younger people
(under 35), and virtually all Indians regardless of age, have been very open minded and quite
receptive--and many older non-Indians have, too. Regional newspaper and television interviews
with me have been thoughtful, nicely done, and well received. UND Honors students have asked me
to teach a three semester hour credit course on UFOs in 1990-91 and I have agreed. Only two
colleagues, neither of whom at all doubts the reality of my UFO experiences, have suggested
that I not draw attention to the episodes in order to ensure my continued credibility on other
fronts. I answered them, reiterating my response to a television interviewer a short time
later: "If I had worried about what other people thought, I would never have had the
experiences I've had or accomplished the things I've accomplished."
[back to the text]
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