textfiles/ufo/UFOBBS/2000/2120.ufo

SUBJECT: MORE ON THE GRUDGE/BLUE BOOK INCIDNET               FILE: UFO2120


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                       THE GRUDGE/BLUE BOOK INCIDENT
                                  By
                          William S. English

INTRODUCTION

     Many nights I go outside of my home into the yard where I look up
through the clear, crisp, desert night, to look at the bright stars and
wonder.  Sometimes I am reminded of nights similar to these when I stood
upon the high plateau of Glastonbury Tor in England, looking at stars
so bright you could almost reach out and grab a handful of them, and
almost relive the legends of CAmelot and Arthur the King.  When I
think back, I remember the pleasant times and joy that was once a part
of my experiences in England, and with my family.  As I think back on
it all I also remember the pain that was caused me during that time.

     For those of you who are reading this story, many of you may read
it and look upon it as a science-fiction story.  Many of you may be able
to recognize the truths.  For now let's say that it is a fiction. 
People seem to be able to accept fiction over fact because sometimes
the fact over-shadows the fiction in such a way that the fiction sounds
more realistic than the fact.  This is such a case.

     What I am about to present to you is a true story.  I know it is
true because I have lived it.  It is my story, and although I present
it as fiction it is fact.  I have also acknowledged the fact that the
material I viewed may perhaps have been fraudulent.  But what I have
been forced to live through is not.

     Several of the names used in this book have been changed.  This is
not to protect the innocent, but rather, to protect myself from possible
litigation.  Many of the names have not been changed, these are the
heros of the story and are in fact living human beings who are or who
have been currently investigating the facts concerning UFO's and related
subjects.  To them I say the following:

     If I have taken liberties, it is not out of malice toward you, but
more admiration.  It is because of your efforts in the research fields
that I have finally been able to present this story to the public in
order that they, the readers, can form their own opinions and beliefs
concerning the material that I am about to present.  All of you have my
admiration, and my thanks.  Even those who have disagreed with me
personally.  Your efforts to discredit me have spurred me on farther and
harder than any of my friends.  I admire your adherence to your ethics,<2C>and encourage you to keep doubting, and to keep hunting for the truth. 
In the end it can benefit all of us who desire to know the truth.

William S. English













Chapter One

     The day had begun in the manner that it usually did.  Stephanie
was a little hard to get up, but that was usual also.  I had gotten up
when the alarm clock went off and went into the boys room to roust them
out so that they could get ready for the trip over to the day care
center on base.  I of course had to get baby Mikey ready for the trip
since he wasn't quite three months old.  But that wasn't really a chore. 
As I remember him now, he was a good baby, always smiling, and one of
those rare children that slept through the night from the time he went
to sleep until he woke up the next morning.  It wasn't until many years
later I learned that Michael was deaf and suffered from Tourettes
Syndrome.  But it was those few briefs months with him that I remember
with fondness.  My son David I remember with fondness as well.  The
exact opposite of Michael, I remember him to be active and full of life. 
I often referred to him as my terrorist in training because he was
always getting into some sort of trouble as a three year old.  Things
that at the time made me very angry, but which I look back upon as
pleasant memories and often laugh at the antics that he did.  It is
amazing how memories changes with time, distance, and circumstance.

     That day however is one that I don't think I will ever forget. 
After a quick breakfast we loaded everyone into the car, a brand new
1976 Volvo 245DL Station Wagon that Stephanie and I had bought through
the credit union at the base. It was dark red in color.  I remember that
well because we had argued over the color when we first bought it.  I
wanted a dark Blue because it was the same color as that which was on
the family crest.  In those days I was very much into the history of my
family and that kind of thing.  She was willing to settle for anything
but blue.  So we got red instead.  I didn't tell her that the car dealer
could only get red anyway.  So in a sense she felt like she got her way
and I didn't bother to tell her that neither of us got what we wanted
. . . discretion being the better part of valor in this case.  In any
event, I dropped Stephy off at the school and took the boys over to the
day-care center and went on to work at the elephant cage.  The Security
Services Command Listening Post at RAF Chicksands, where I worked as a
Data Analyst.

     This day didn't seem to be any different from those I had before. <20>I was making plans to go to Norwich that weekend for a meeting of the
Medieval Association of which I was a member.  That weekend we were
planning to have a medieval revel, which meant much drinking, fighting
and partying for many of us.  I was hoping to have the chance to try
out my new armor that I had spend several months building outside in
the garage.  When I arrived at the `Cage I parked the car and went into
the front entrance where I showed my identification badge to the guard
and signed in, then proceeded to my cubbyhole office, stopping to get
a mug of coffee along the way.

     When I arrived at my desk I put my coffee on the desk and cleaned
up before notifying the Duty Officer that I was there and ready to go
to work.  This was standard procedure since it was the duty officer that
brought the daily work assignments to the Analyst's that were working
that particular shift.  Duty officers came and went since it was a
rotating assignment from senior staff personnel on the base.  I guess
the theory behind that was if they didn't know when a particular officer
had the duty they couldn't subvert him or her, or whatever . . ..  In
any case nobody even bothered to remember the D.O.'s name for the day,
and they knew better than to bother us when we were working.  One of
them upset another analyst that had been working for some fourteen hours
straight through and the analyst stood up indignantly and urinated on
the poor bastard's leg.  The message was sent and the point taken, from
what I understand.  In our own ways each of us dealt with the stress in
our own fashion.  I used to pass out little red business cards that were
embossed with the message, "Methinks thou art a Shithead".  It lacked
finesse, but I felt it had a certain flare to it.  It certainly got the
message across to those who pissed me off.  As I think upon it now, it
certainly would apply to a certain few within UFOlogy today.  But then
again, I couldn't afford to have that many printed up . . ..

     Upon notifying the Duty Officer, he came to my desk with my day's
work load.  This usually consisted of anywhere from five to ten
documents of information requiring me to read through each one and then
write up a report that consisted of no more than one page.  I generally
read the information that each document contained and assigned what was
known as a probability factor to each bit of information contained
therein.  The documents were primarily of translations of information
that had been received from the monitoring of radio signals through the
"big ear", and these signals generally originated from one of the Soviet
Block Nations.  This day however was to be different.  When the Duty
Officer arrived it was with a diplomatic pouch which was locked and
sealed.  The outside of the pouch was fairly unremarkable.  It was of
brown leather, much like an old fashion attache case that you use to see
carried by businessmen during the late fifties and sixties, and was
locked with a locking mechanism through the flap that came over the top
of the case from one side to the other.  The one thing that did stick
out about it was the fact that next to the handle was a chain that came
off of it with a handcuff attached to the end of it.

     When the D.O. arrived he handed me a Disposition form that
contained instructions as to what I was to do with the document that
was contained in the pouch.  The instructions were fairly simple, I was
to read and analyze the document and write up a report concerning the
probability of validity and my own personal reaction to the material<61>that I read.  At the time it sounded simple enough.  I had no idea at
the time just how much that act would cost me, nor how it would change
my life.

























CHAPTER TWO
GRUDGE/BLUE BOOK REPORT #13

     The following are excepts from a document written by John O. Lear,
Investigator and hopefully friend.  I include this because when John
came to visit me at my home in Virginia after I had been in hiding for
almost eight years, he convinced me that perhaps it would be better for
me to come out into the open where everyone could see me and hear the
story of what really happened.  For the most part the information
contained herein is accurate, but I'll let you read it from the
perception of someone other than myself, then I will fill in some of the
blanks.

                      ******************** 
 
     A series of PROJECT GRUDGE/BLUEBOOK reports have been related 
over the years in connection with the USAF's investigation into UFO's
which was supposedly terminated with the release of the Condon report
in the late 1960's. Reports 1 through 12 of GRUDGE/BLUE BOOK were
generally innocuous and contained no classified or truly sensitive
material.  There was a final report, #14 which was widely circulated
and about which an entire book was written: FLYING SAUCERS:AN ANALYSIS
OF THE AIR FORCE PROJECT BLUE BOOK SPECIAL REPORT NO.14 by Leon
Davidson;  the fifth edition was published in 1976 by Blue-Book
Publishers; 64 Prospect st., White Plains, New York 10606.  Missing from
public view, however, was report #13. 
     Several years ago, Bill English, son of an Arizona state legislator<6F>and former Captain in the Green Berets had been assigned to an RAF
`listening Post' north of London as an information analyst. English was,
in the course of his duties, asked to prepare an analysis of the elusive
GRUDGE 13 report. On his discharge from his work at the `listening Post'
he returned to the United States and began to do a little UFO research
on his own. English had been no stranger to the UFO phenomenon. In Viet
Nam he was member of a Special Forces investigative team that went in
to retrieve a B-52 that was forced down by a UFO and all the occupants
killed. Communications had been received from the B-52 before it went
down to the effect that it was "....under attack by a UFO....", a
"....large light....".
     The plane was found intact, sitting in the jungle. There was no
swath indicative of a crash landing. Only the bottom of the fuselage
showed any damage, there was no damage to the underside of the engine
pods. Although the plane was completely intact the entire crew had been
mutilated. 
     English, through contacts he still maintains has determined that 
the US government `most definitely' supports a `project dealing
specifically with UFO's and captured aliens'. According to what he has
learned, the US government captured a trio of aliens, and that as of
mid 1981, one of the beings was still alive in captivity. English also
claims that "at one point in the early 1950's until the mid 1960's the
Air Force maintained relocation and debriefing colonies for people that
had experienced close encounters of the 3rd and 4th kind. They were
isolated for all intents and purposes for the rest of their lives. He
doubts that these colonies are still in existence. 
     English dictated 2 audio cassettes outlining what he remembered
from the Grudge 13 report. These audio cassettes were transcribed into
hand written notes by another person. The information contained therein
indicated what had been suspected all along:that the US Government was
involved in the greatest deception in the history of mankind and that
not only did flying saucers exist but that the government had several
in secret storage and had captured at least three live aliens. 
 
     The following is a summary of what Bill English remembers from what
he read during that day in July of 1977 of PROJECT GRUDGE/BLUE BOOK
REPORT NO. 13. 
     In box, diplomatic pouch under lock and key system. Lock had been
opened, pouch was easily accessed. Standard diplomatic couriers pouch
marked American Embassy Couriers, contained pouch serial number
jl327Delta. Inside a publication with red tape which indicated code red
security precautions and an Air Force disposition form. Disposition form
was standard white page copy, title was `Analysis Report'. Further down
was `Analyze enclosed report under code red measures, give abstract
breakdown and report on validity. Observe all code red measures.
Analysis required immediately'. Underneath were a series of dashes then
the letters NDF then another series of dashes. Below that, lower left
hand corner were the initials WGB. 
     Publication was withdrawn from pouch. It measured approx., 8" by
11" with grey cover. Heavily bound, paper back style similar to
technical manuals.Across the center front it read, "Grudge/Blue Book
Report No. 13". It was dated 1953-(1963). In the lower right-hand corner
was AFSN 2246-3. in upper left hand corner was the word `annotated'.
Across the front upper right hand corner to lower left hand corner was
red tape indicating code red security measures. Across the front was<61>stamped in red ink `Top Secret Need to Know Only Crypto Clearance 14
Required'. Inside front cover upper left hand corner were hand written
notations in ink which were blacked out by black felt pen. 
     Inside cover sheet was basically the same information as the cover.
Second page was a title page. Next page after that was an appendix with
numerous notations made in it.Notations dealt with inserts of what
appeared to be photos and additional notes. At bottom of third page it
read G/BV Page 1 of 624 pages. Title page was subject letter. Complete
list of appendix not remember. Title. Some notes on the practical
applications of the Worst Nemo equations. 
     Table of contents, Part 1. "On the design of generators to
accomplish strain free molecular translation". Part 2, The generation
of space time discontinuims,closed, opened and folded". Part 3, on the
generation of temporary pseudo acceleration locas". Part 1, Chapter 1,
"design criteria for a simple generator and control system referring to
equation 17 appendix A". Part 2, Chapter 1,"Continuation of Einstein's
Theory of Relativity to final conclusion". Part 3, Chapter 1, "Possible
applications of Einstein's theory of relativity at conclusion". 
     Part 1,Chapter 2, reports of UFO encounters, classifications "Close
Encounters of the 1st Kind",subtitle sightings and witnesses. Part 2,
chapter 2,"Close Encounters of the 2nd", subtitle UFO sightings
witnessed within close proximity. Part 3, chapter 2 "Close Encounters
of the 3rd Kind", subtitle UFO encounters and extraterrestrial life
forms witnessed and personal encounters.  Subtitle,"Colonies, relocation
thereof". Case histories. Chapter 3, Part 1,titled "military Encounters
with UFO's". Part 2, Chapter 3, "Military Reports Concerning Sightings
on Radar and Electronic Surveillance of UFO's". Subsection 2, Analysis
Report, J. Allen Hynek, Lt. Col. Friend. Appendix continued on for about
5 pages.  Opening subject page consisted of a report of the findings as
written by Lt. Col. Friend and his analysis. 
     Must stress at this point that the version seen was annotated.
There were inserts that were added to this copy after it had been
initially printed.Sections remembered very vividly are the photographs
and the reports concerning captive sights of various UFO's to include
Mexico, sweden, United States and Canada. There were also what was then
classified Close Encounters of the 3rd kind. It was made very clear that
these people whom it was determined had genuine CE 3's were moved in the
middle of the night by Air Force personnel and relocated to various
sites in the midwest and Northwest parts of the United States. In many
cases these people experienced physical ailments from exposure to
various types of radiation. 
     One case especially noted and remembered very vividly was entitled
"Darlington Farm Case" out of Ohio. Case apparently took place in
October 1953. Man, wife and 13 year old son were sitting down at dinner
table. As they sat there the lights in the farm house began to dim. Dogs
and animals raised ruckus on outside. 13 year old boy got up from dinner
table to see what was going on. Called his mother and father to come
look at the funny light in the sky. Father and mother went out onto the
porch. When they got out on the porch one of the dogs broke loose from
leash beside house and came running around front. Boy began chasing it
into the open field. As mother and father watched the light comedown
from the sky. They described it as a round ball of fire and it began to
hover over the field where the boy and dog had run to. As they stood and
watched, the mother and father heard the boy start screaming for help
whereupon the father grabbed his shotgun which was right next to the<68>door and began to run out into the field with the mother following. When
the father got to the field he saw his son being carried away by what
looked like little men, into this huge fiery looking object. As it took
off the father fired several rounds at the object, to no avail. They
found the dog, it's head had been crushed but no sign of the boy or any
other footprints of the little men who apparently carried him off.
Father immediately called the Darlington police and they immediately
came out to investigate. The official report read that the boy had run
off and was lost in the forest which bordered the farm. Within 48 hours
the Air Force made the determination that the family was to be relocated
and the mother and father were picked up by Air Force Intelligence and
all personal belonging and possessions were loaded into U.S. Air Force
trucks and moved to a northwestern relocation site. 
     The mother was in shock and had to go through a great deal of
psychotherapy and deprogramming as did father. One interesting aspect
about this case was classification under Air Force report which read it
was a genuine CE 3 and that for the good of national security the mother
and father had been relocated to relocation zones Z21-14. Not sure
whether this indicated map grid coordinates or latitude longitude.
According to the report there were at least four relocation sites across
the United States. Depending upon which type of encounter these people
had, the report indicated that there were extensive medical facilities
available at the relocation sites to deal with all medical emergencies
up to and including radiation poisoning. The report mentioned a site
located in the Utah-Nevada area, but no indication of it's purpose or
what it was for. 
     Report gave clear indication of reports of human mutilations, most
notably was a case witnessed by Air Force personnel in which an Air
Force Sgt. E-6 by the name of Jonathan P. Lovette was observed being
taken captive aboard what appeared to be a UFO at the WHITE sands
Missile Test Range in New Mexico. This abduction took place in March of
1956 at about 0300 local and was witnessed by Major William Cunningham
of the United States Air Force Missile Command near Holloman Air Force
Base. 
     Major Cunningham and Sgt. Lovette were out in a field downrange
from the launch sites looking for debris from a missile test when Sgt.
Lovette went over the ridge of a small sand dune and was out of sight
for a time. Major Cunningham heard Sgt. Lovette scream in what was
described as terror or agony. The Major, thinking Lovette had been
bitten by a snake or something ran over the crest of the dune and saw
Sgt. Lovette being dragged into what appeared to him and was described
as being a silvery disk like object which hovered in the air
approximately 15 to 20 feet. Major Cunningham described what appeared
to be a long snake-like object which was wrapped around the sergeant's
legs and was dragging him to the craft. Major Cunningham admittedly
froze as the sergeant was dragged inside the disc and observed the disc
and observed the disc going up into the sky very quickly. Major
Cunningham got on the jeep radio and reported the incident to Missile
Control whereupon Missile Control confirmed a radar sighting. Search
parties went into the desert looking for Sgt. Lovette. Major
Cunningham's report was taken and he was admitted to the White Sands
Base Dispensary for observation. 
     The search for Sgt. Lovette continues for three days at the end of
which his nude body was found approximately ten miles downrange. The
body had been mutilated;the tongue had been removed from the lower<65>portion of the jaw. An incision had been made just under the tip of the
chin and extended all the way back to the esophagus and larynx. He had
been emasculated and his eyes had been removed. Also, his anus had been
removed and there were comments in the report on the apparent surgical
skill of the removal of these items including the genitalia. The report
commented that the anus and the genitalia had been removed `as though
a plug' which in the case of the anus extended all the way to the colon.
There was no sign of blood within the system. The initial autopsy report
confirmed that the system had been completely drained of blood and that
there was no vascular collapse due to death by bleeding. Sub-comment was
added that this was unusual because in any body who dies of bleeding or
in the case of a complete blood loss there is always vascular collapse. 
Also noted was that when the body was found there were a number of dead
predatory type birds within the area who apparently had died after
trying to partake of the sergeant's body. There were a number of
extremely grisly black and white photographs. From all indications the
body had been exposed to the elements for at least a day or two. The New
Mexico sun in the desert is extremely hot and debilitating under normal
circumstances. 
     In this section of the report it also indicated that there were
numerous occasions in which a ufo was tracked along side a fired missile
and on one occasion said missile was observed being taken aboard a UFO
while in flight. The speeds indicated were absolutely phenomenal.
(English's father had told him privately that on more than one occasion
he had personally tracked what they termed as `Foo fighters'. English's
father was an electronics engineer by profession and was fairly well
versed on electronics engineering and design and on more than one
occasion he was involved in telemetry programming of missiles.
(English's father is currently a state legislator in Arizona.) 
     The report also indicated that there were a number of recovery
teams that were activated specifically for the purpose of recovering
any and all evidence of UFO's and UFO sightings. Most notably recorded
in publication was what they called Recovery Team Alpha. It was reported
that Alpha had been extremely active in a number of areas and on certain
occasions had traveled outside the United States. Alpha was based out
of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and was on the move constantly. 
     Further information in the report consisted of such things as
reported sightings and where Air Force planes had been destroyed or had
combat encounters or had been attacked by UFO's. Also there were autopsy
reports of various human mutilations.  
     About midway through the report came a section which dealt
specifically with photographs. Each photo was labeled and appendixed to
certain reports. A number of photo's in there dealt with a recovery
program of some type that took place in the southwestern part of the
United States. They did not give a location name but they did give grid
coordinates for that area. There is no clear indication to exactly where
it was. The photos dealt with special teams that were called in to
recover a crashed UFO. It also dealt with alien bodies and autopsy
reports,autopsy type photographs, high quality, color, 8 x 10, 5 x 7. 
     Photo number 1 showed an alien being on an autopsy table which is
a metal table with runnels and traps underneath to trap fluid and feces.
Body appeared to be a little short of 4 feet. Table about 7 foot. No
clothing on body, no genitalia, body completely heterous, head was a
rounded cranium, slightly enlarged, eyes almond shaped, slits where nose
would be, extremely small mouth, receding chin line, holes where ears<72>would be. Photo was taken at angle, side view, looking at body from 45
degree elevation, left hand was visible, head was facing to left, body
was right to left (head on right, feet on left), eyes were closed
appeared to be oriental-looking and almond shaped, left hand slightly
longer than normal, wrist coming down just about 2 to 3 inches above the
knees. Wrist appeared to be articulated in a fashion that allowed a
double joint with 3 digit fingers. Wrist was very slender. There was no
thumb. A palm was almost non-existent. The three fingers were direct
extension from the wrist. 
     Color of the skin was a bluish gray, dark bluish gray. At base of
the body there was a darker color, indicating body was dead for some
time. Body fluids or blood had settled to base of body. This indicated
that body had been examined before beginning autopsy. 
     Pictures showed beginning stages of autopsy, following standard
procedure, body was slit from crouch to just under chin and green
viscous liquid was in evidence. There were internal organs but these
could not be identified. Photos thereafter concerned specific areas of
internal organs of what appeared as small cluster of multi-valve heart
or at least two hearts within the cadaver. No accurate description of
autopsy report or what was found with corpse accompanying photos.
Indications that there was no stomach or digestive tract per se. Later
analysis showed that fluid within the body was chloropyhyl based liquid
which apparently dealt with photosynthesis or similar process. The
report theorized that nourishment was taken in through mouth, however
since there was no digestive tract or anything of this nature, the waste
products were excreted through skin. 
     One section of the report did specify that cadavers were extremely
odorous, but this could be accounted for by either deterioration or a
number of things, but theory was that waste was excreted through pores
of skin. They could only theorize in report because there was no
xenobiology. 
     A report by Dr. J. Allen Hynek was recalled vividly which indicated
that he had also studied the information provided by this particular
case and that he felt that it was indeed a genuine UFO capture and
subsequently the alien was part of UFO. Dr. Hynek was non-committal but
did however sign the report. Also indicated in the report that he did
not view the bodies personally, but viewed photographs and accompanying
reports from autopsies. 
     Other photos dealt with a number of bodies which were vivi-
sectioned in various ways. At one point, a head was removed from the
body and photographed and autopsy was performed on head. The cranium was
opened and brain matter was photographed and evident. Interesting thing
about photo was that there was a ridge bone or dividing partition-type
bone running directly through center of skull, from front to back, as
though dividing two brains, one from the other. This seemed apparent
from the picture. The skin was completely removed from the cranial
structure and the skull was laid bare as much as possible. 
     At one point the skull was cut directly in half and photo showed
under developed esophagus and nasal cavities. No clear photo of eye orbs
as we know them, just complete vivisection of skull itself. 
     Numerous photos of flesh of the being starting with cutaneous and
subcutaneous microphotographic plates. Appeared to be cellular studies
done under microscopic and electron-microscopic type photos. Extreme
magnification of tissue samples. 
     This concluded Bill English's statement which was transcribed from<6F>2 cassette tapes. I obtained this hand written memorandum in August of
1987 from Paul Bennewitz during my visit with him in Albuquerque. In
September of 1988 I received a call from Bill English. I asked for a
chance to meet him and discuss the Grudge 13 report. He said that this
could be arranged but that the meeting would have to be on his terms for
security reasons. He explained that there had been several attempts on
his life by persons unknown since he had made the cassette tapes about
six years ago. We arranged a meeting at a small airport in Virginia on
September 16. I was to sit in the lobby with my black flight bag and for
identification purposes I told Bill what I would be wearing.l I had no
telephone number for Bill.  
     As I walked into the small airport lobby after about a three hour
drive from Richmond, I immediately noticed 2 gentlemen who seemed `out
of place' for this locale. Both were wearing pin striped 3 piece suits,
both had on dark glasses. One was a black gentleman. One was stationed
inside the lobby door looking out at the parking lot, one was leaning
up against an airline counter. I sat down and after a few minutes was
approached by a tall, bearded man in jeans and a heavy jacket. He asked
if I wanted to have a drink. We walked outside and he introduced himself
as Bill English. We drove in Bill's car into town to a local bar. About
five minutes after we ordered and started to talk, the men I had seen
at the airport came into the bar and sat down. We left for Bill's house
and never saw the men again for the next 2 days. 
     During the next two days I stayed with Bill and his wife and two
children in a small trailer in the middle of a field at his farm. I
asked him endless questions concerning the Grudge 13 document, how he
happened to see it, what happened to him after he saw it and literally
thousands of questions about the content of the document. My impression
of Bill English was that he was totally honest, that he stood behind his
statements and recollection of the Grudge 13 papers, that he was a
devoted husband and father to his wife's 2 children. That Bill English
was ready to come forward and enter into any debate regarding the
legitimacy of the document and his recollections thereof. Of Bill`s
compassion for his father and his father's feelings concerning Bill and
the reasons for their occasional disagreements. I have tremendous
respect for Bill and what he has tried to do in getting this information
out to the public. It has been at tremendous personal risk, not to
mention the ridicule by sponsored agents such as Bill Moore, who has
stated that the Grudge 13 papers were a fraud. 
     What follows is additional information about the Grudge 13 papers
that I obtained from Bill during my visit. In addition to the following
Bill painstakingly drew many sketches of the photos of different types
of flying saucers, the equipment obtained from them including a sketch
of the football sized nuclear generator and sketches of the autopsy
photos. 
     From my notes taken during our 2 day meeting: Bill described a
photo taken of 3 live aliens. Very clear photos, aliens standing against
a white tile wall, looking confused as if they had been shoved, were
looking in different directions. 
     Report said that aliens had contacted a U.S. Intelligence Agency
for initial 2 meetings, one at Holloman, one at Homestead. 
     U.S. Air Force relocation personnel (for persons involved in close
encounters) were referred to as `Men in Black'. 
     Major Cunningham was initially accused of murdering Sgt. Jonathan
P. Lovette. Charges were later dropped. <20>     Bill English's place of employment in England was Security Services
Command, RAF Chicksands. 
     Entire Grudge 13 Report was written as if report was geared toward
preparation of defenses. 
     Report told of ultrasonic weapons found in Germany at the end of
WWII that could shatter 4" thick armor. 
     Report told of sensitive military and industrial areas at which
personnel have experienced missing time. 

     Report told about missing time experienced with personnel
associated with North American X-15 rocket plane project. 
     Report stated that there were 17 different species accounted for
up to the time of the report. 
     Extraterrestrials were referred to as A.L.F.'s. Alien Life forms
in the report. 
     Report referred to one UFO that was recovered and test flown. The
UFO blew up as the two Air Force pilots aboard attempted to leave the
atmosphere. English recalls the date as in the mid 50's. 
     Report refers to flying saucer program as `Project Red Light' and
that a secret installation had been constructed in the middle of the
Atomic Energy Commission testing ground in Nevada. 
     At the time of the report 11 alien cadavers were being kept at
Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. 
     That additional alien cadavers were being stored at 4 to 5 other
medical institutions. 
     That 2 flying saucers of extraterrestrial origin had been tested
in the wind tunnel at langley, Va. 
     That at the time of the report one disc was being stored at McDill
Air Force Base, Florida. 
     That at the time of the report, 1 damaged disc was at Eglin Air
Force Base in Florida. 
     That at the time of the report that had been 2 UFO incidents at
Ft. Riley, Kansas. 
     That at the time of the report a detachment of the Alpha Recovery
Team was based at Randolph Air Force Base. 
     The report discussed civilian and military personnel who had been
terminated `to eliminate potentially dangerous elements to the national
security'. 
     The General James Doolittle had been mentioned several times in
the report with the notation that "his (Doolittle's) predictions might
be correct". There was no indication of what those predictions might
have been. 
     A short segment containing the quotation. "By presidential order,
certain aspects of research have been undertaken". 

             ********************************************

     The information that John related here is correct as far as the
material concerning Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, but John failed to make
mention of the incidents following my viewing of the document nor of
what led to my sudden and timely disappearance from the scene in 1980.



<EFBFBD>














CHAPTER THREE
BETWEEN THEN AND NOW

     Shortly after viewing the documents in the Grudge/Blue Book Report
#13, my life changed dramatically.  After reading the documents I
assigned a probability rating to them of approximately 95%, based on
information within the document that several years previously I had
directly been involved with.  The recovery of the B-52 Bomber Aircraft
in Vietnam.
     Much to my surprise the photographs and reports that I and my team
made of the incident and then turned into MACV Headquarters in Saigon
appeared within the document.  I cannot speak for the validity of the
rest of the information enclosed therein, but I can vouch for the
authenticity of that particular material.  I would point out that since
my public announcement of this material, I have publicly said that there
is the distinct possibility that the material was fraudulent and that
it was intended that I see it in order to spread mis-information.  I
would point out further, that I do not claim that this material is the
gospel truth and that everyone should start gathering in their families
and the animals because the world is about to end.  Unlike some others
that I know are currently on the speaking circuit . . ..
     Within two weeks of viewing the document things began to happen
with a speed heretofore unknown in government circles.  I had originally
viewed the document during the last week of June of 1977.  About the
second week of July, things had not changed significantly.  I was still
going to my medieval society meetings, taking the wife to school, and
the boys to the day-care center during the week.  On weekends Stephy and
I would try to plan things together with the kids, outings of various
types that would allow us to spend time with each other and enjoy
ourselves.  One of my particular favorites was taking my eldest son
David into Bedfordshire on saturdays.  That was when the market place
was full of vendors trying to sell their wares, and we would just walk
and see what kind of bargains we could find.  It was like an adventure
to us, and then after we walked through the market we would go to the
riverside and throw bread to the swans that lived on the banks of the
Bedford River.  I look back on those days with a great deal of joy and
sadness as they are now gone forever to me, and I am reminded that I
have now missed the most important years of my sons lives.
     During the second week of July I reported for work as I normally
did, only this time when I checked in I was met by to Air Security<74>Policemen who informed me that the base commander, Col, Robert Black
wanted to see me at his office immediately.  I was then escorted by
these two neanderthals to Headquarters building at the top of the hill
to the col's office where I was made to wait for about thirty minutes
before Black would see me.  When he did see me he was very brusk and
cold and politely informed me that my services as a Data Analyst for
the United States Air Force Security Services Command were no longer
needed and that I was being immediately sent back to the United States
via a MAC flight from RAF Lakenheath.  I politely reminded the Colonel
that since I was a civilian hire and that my place of hiring was in fact
in England they had no right to ship me back to the U.S. without my
consent, and since my wife was a civilian employee of the Department of
Defence Schools, I would automatically fall under the dependant
classification if I was no longer employed by the government.
     Black's basic reaction to all of this was laughter.  He in turn
politely informed me that for all he cared I could eat shit and bark at
the moon.  I was going back to the United STates whether I wanted to or
not, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.
     Seeing that there wasn't much to be gained by arguing with the
asshole, I then requested permission to at least call my wife at the
school and let her know what the hell was going on.  Permission was
refused me and I was immediately escorted to RAF Lakenheath under armed
guard and placed on a flight back to the states.
     When I arrived in the states I immediately tried to call my wife
to let her know what had happened.  Every time I tried to get through,
the phone would ring, a man's voice would answer and then the phone
would go dead.  Not only did this happen when I tried to call my wife,
but also when I tried to call several friends that could possibly get
a message to my wife.  Needless to say it was like this for several
months, and finally I gave up trying.  I wrote letters to her, to my
friends, everyone that I could think of, and still there was no
response.  Finally, I gave up trying.  I have since learned that my wife
transferred to a different Air Force Base shortly after that, after she
had been told by Black that I quit my job and deserted her and the boys. 
It was a bald face lie, but by then it was to late to prove otherwise,
and would have been impossible under the circumstances.
     What took place after that was one series of failures after
another.  I returned to my home town of Tucson, Arizona and began
looking for a job of some type that would support me.  After several
months and much indignation I found a job working as a fry-cook/night
manager at a Waffle House on I-10.  It was during this time that it
looked as if I might be going back to Europe as there was a job offer
to work for the British Broadcasting Corporation as a Cameraman.  I quit
my job at the Waffle House, and suddenly the job fell through.  I just
didn't hear anything more from them, and they wouldn't answer any of my
letters of inquiry.  Shortly there after I got a job working for a
security company as a guard.  It was during this juncture in my
employment career that I was assigned to work at the campus of Pima
Community College.
     Prior to my assignment at the college, I had not given much thought
to the question of UFO's and the effect that it was having on my life. 
In fact I had become so consumed with the act of survival that I had not
given it any thought at all.  You the reader, must bear in mind also,
that this was perhaps the most trying time that I had ever had in my
entire life.  I had just lost a family that I loved and care for very<72>much, and there wasn't a thing that I could do that would make it
different, no matter how much I wanted it or tried.  In short, I was on
the verge of suicide.  
     While working the campus shift for the security company, I noticed
an announcement on the bulletin board announcing the speech of one
Stanton Friedman, eminent scientist and UFO Investigator.  The speech
was set to take place at the college that night and I decided that I
would attend as it was free at the student union.  During the course of
Stan's speech he imparted a great deal of information about science and
the study of UFO's, but for some reason none of it seem to be of any
great consequence.  The information was based in part on investigations
that many well meaning and hard working people had been able to gather. 
Most notable were the efforts of Jim and Coral Lorenzen, the founders
of the Aerial Phenomenon Research Organization.  The only problem with
it was the fact that it wasn't all of the information.  During the
course of Stan's speech he made mention of the fact that Blue Book
Report #13 had never been published and that the government had said
that it jumped from thirteen to fourteen due to the unlucky significance
of the number thirteen. Hogwash!!!!
     I knew that this was hogwash and after Stan finished his talk I
approached him and told him that it was.  He asked me point blank how
I knew it was hogwash, and I told him that I viewed A report entitled
Grudge/Blue Book Report #13, that went far beyond their wildest dreams
with regard to admitting the existence of UFO's.  Within a matter of
minutes I was whisked away by Stan, Allen Benz, and Jim Lorenzen to the
APRO Offices that were then located on North Country Club in Tucson,
where I spent several hours relating my experience and detailing
everything that I could remember about the report, which was quit a bit. 
It took several months for the final outcome of that conversation to
finally come out, but at the time Jim Lorenzen thought that I was
nuttier than a fruitcake.  Which I suppose under the circumstances was
understandable.  
     During the interim, I was allowed access to the files at the APRO
offices where I began to learn and understand more than I had before
all of this had started.  One of the things that I discovered through
my research was that over the years there was a pattern of government
cover-up that far outreached anything that anyone was aware of at the
time I began my research.  In fact it has only been during the past ten
or so years that people have come to realize that this is the case. 
Another thing that I discovered was the fact that the information I had
concerning Grudge/Blue Book Report #13 was information that some one
wanted to keep quiet.  So much so in fact, they were willing to kill,
or at least put on the show of trying.
     The first attempt took place in Tucson, Arizona.  I was driving
from Tucson to Sierra Vista, where my father had his Real Estate Office
located at.  I was in the process of starting a small custom leather
shop at the time and had decided to go down to discuss with my father
some problems that I had been having with funding.  As I was driving
down I-10 toward Sierra Vista it was a pleasant day, at least for riding
a motorcycle.  The road didn't have to much traffic and there were
several stretches where I was the only vehicle on the road.  
     It was during one of these intervals that a black, 1978 Lincoln
Continental came onto the road behind me and began to pace me as I drove
along.  As I traveled I kept seeing this car in my rear-view mirror. 
At first I didn't think a great deal of it, but as time went on I<>noticed that it never seemed to go faster or slower than I did, always
keeping the same distance.  Between Tucson and the turn off to Hachuca
City the limo made it's move and I happened to catch it in my mirror as
it suddenly speeded up as it came toward me.  I moved to the side of the
road and began to hug the shoulder as closely as I was able to and in
the process slowing down in order to let it pass me by.  Instead of
moving toward the left to pass it came over into the should where I was
at.  Seeing this and getting a bad feeling in my stomach I gun the motor
on my bike and cut suddenly left, just barely getting out of it's way
as it came past me and over the spot I had just vacated.  I knew then
that this wasn't and accident.  Just after the car pasted me by the
driver slammed on it's brakes and spun around in order to make another
pass at me.  For a few moments it seemed like I was in the middle of a
game of roller ball and I was the ball.  Avoiding the vehicle again I
then cut across into the desert as fast as I could go.  The Lincoln
tried to follow but as it came onto the desert floor it appeared to get
stuck in the loose dirt and stopped.  I continued on my way through the
desert in the general direction toward Sierra Vista and eventually made
my way to my father's office.
     When I arrived at my father's, I told him what had taken place. 
He pooh, poohed and told me that it was my imagination, but never the
less followed me in his car back to Tucson.  This was the first attempt
upon my life.
     Within a matter of weeks another attempt took place.  By this time
I had gotten my business operating and did a lot of work out of my
apartment.  I had gotten into a pattern by this time and was usually in
bed around ten o'clock at night.  This night however I had been invited
to spend the night at a friends whom I had been helping to rebuild a
saddle.  It came at the spur of the moment and I had not made any plans
for it to happen prior.  This particular night I just happen to be at
the store when he came over and asked me to come by and have dinner in
exchange for the work that I had helped him with on the saddle, and then
stay for an evening of movies and HBO.  Normally I would have been at
home that particular night.  The next morning upon my return to my
apartment I found that it had been burned completely.  The fire
department informed me that it had been arson.  It would seem that some
one tossed a fire bomb into my front window possibly thinking that I
would be there.  I lost everything that I had in the apartment to
include a pet hamster that I had grown quite attached to.
     Over the years there have been approximately fifteen attempts on
my life.  Several of these were reported to the local police department,
several have not.  In all cases the police department have not
investigated once they find out that I am an investigator of UFO
phenomenon.  You figure it out.
     In the early part of 1980 I was surprised to receive a phone call
from Robert Black, the Air Force Colonel who in 1977 sent me packing on
my way from RAF Chicksands.  Black told me that he had been
involuntarily retired from the Air Force and believed that it was due
in part to the document that I had viewed while working for Security
Services Command at RAF Chicksands.  I was more or less cool toward
Black but agreed to meet with him at my store in Trail Dust Town in
Tucson.  When we met I asked him several questions concerning my family
and discovered what had happened after my departure.  Apparently my wife
had been told that I deserted them and that I upped and quit my job
without notice and then caught a MAC flight out to the states.  My wife<66>was faced with several difficult decisions, among them was how to handle
the up bringing of two children.  According to Black she finished out
the school year at RAF Chicksands and then requested and received a
transfer to a different school system within the Department of Defence
Schools in Great Britain.  He went on to say that he had no idea as to
what happened when I tried to contact them, saying that he was told
after I left, that it was out of his hands. 
     Black went on to say that he had come across some information that
indicated a flying saucer or space vehicle of some type had crashed at
the White Sands Missile Range, and that because of it's size they were
unable to move it so instead buried it where it lay.  He wanted to know
if I was interested in coming with him to find it.  I asked him why me,
and he said because I had read the document and knew what it was we were
looking for.  He went on to say also that he was putting every bit of
money that he had into outfitting a special vehicle that would carry
research equipment and supplies, but that he didn't have enough.  By
this time I was thoroughly hooked on the idea and made an agreement with
him to sell my business and then put most of the money that I made into
the vehicle also. Which is what I did.
     In the meantime I contacted Wendelle Stevens and told him of what
we were planning and invited him along.  He was in the middle of
investigating the Billy Miers case in Switzerland and declined.  His
decision to not participate is most likely what saved his life.
     I met with Black in Belen, New Mexico during the first week of June
in 1980.  Along with Black was his former operations sergeant at RAF
Chicksands, who's name escapes me at present.  Black explained that the
Sergeant had been involuntarily retired from the service also and that
he was as interested in finding the answers as we were.  I went along
with thinking that if nothing else it would be a hell of a camping trip.
     We proceeded northward from Belen, going toward Santa Fe and
Albuquerque, and then crossed over easterly toward the "Trinity Test
Site" where the first Atomic Bomb was tested.  Stopping along the way
to make brief incursions into the test range in order to setup the
equipment and run it for short periods of time.  From the Trinity Test
Site we then proceeded southerly to Alamogordo and the over past
Holloman Air Force Base, where we once again entered the test range. 
This time through the White Sands National Monument.  In those days they
didn't close the monument to the public at night and you could go in 24
hours a day and even camp over night there.  Once in the monument we
then proceeded to the northern most boundary of the park and entered the
range once again.  This time we planned on going as far as we could
until either came across something or we were forced to turn back in
order to be off the range during the day and camp over night in the
park.
     I was walking about 500 to a 1000 meters in front of the Van with
a metal detector, trying to see if there was anything buried under the
sand.  It was just after sun down and the van had it's lights on in
order to allow me enough light to see where I was going.  As I was
walking I heard a sound that made my skin crawl.  The sound of an in-
coming rocket is something a veteran of the Vietnam era never forgets.
. . especially after having been caught in several fire fights where
they came in on your positions.  I instinctively recognized the sound
and screamed a warning.  The warning was to late.  The next thing I
knew, the van was nothings more than smoke and debris and Black and Horn
were no longer there.
     If nothing else, I have never laid claim to being a hero, and I am<61>certainly not John Rambo, willing to take on the entire Russian Army for
friendship and glory.  I am pleased to say that experience and common
sense have taught me better than that.  I would venture a guess and say
that had I stuck around rather than make like a rabbit and take off, I
would most likely not be here to relate this story to you.  That is in
fact exactly what I did.  It took me only a matter of seconds to
determine that it was both unwise and unhealthy to stick around to try
and help what amounted to nothing more than hamburger, and I was off
like a shot (excuse the pun).  I had on my webb belt and a canteen fun
of water and my survival knife, so I had essentially everything that I
needed to survive in the desert.  I traveled North Westerly through the
desert at night for about two days before I came to a major road and was
able to thumb a ride into Tucson from New Mexico.
     When I arrived in Tucson it was in the early morning hours and I
made my way to Wendelle Stevens home where I woke him up by knocking on
his bedroom window.  Being the good egg that he is, he let me into his
home and gave me some food, the use of his shower and a shirt (the pants
were to small).  After I had refreshed myself I related to him
everything that taken place during the past several days while he
recorded it with his recorder and took notes.  I have since learned that
the original tapes have disappeared.  After several hours of talking
with Wendelle I pretty much told him everything that I could and he was
kind enough to give me a ride home from his place.  
     As we approached the apartment where I was then living with a lady
friend, I spotted a large black car parked in front of the building. 
I asked Wendelle to drive around the corner from the apartment and drop
me off.  Making my way back to the apartment I let myself in the back
door and then quietly looked out the front of the window to see somebody
sitting inside the vehicle smoking a cigarette.  They (whoever they
were) were watching for me.  It was time to leave and go into hiding.














CHAPTER FOUR
I GO ON THE LAM

     I spent the next several days in the apartment making plans for my
disappearance.  The first thing that I did was break up with my girl
friend, which I wasn't happy about doing, but I remembered what happened
with my wife and felt that for her own protection it would be best.  I
then took what few processions I had accumulated and sold them to a
local thrift store and then moved to a small trailer on the west side
of town.  I stayed there for about a month and then packed my backpack
and caught a bus to Phoenix, Arizona, where I made sure that I was<61>arrested in the bus station by a Phoenix police officer on an old
traffic ticket.  When I arrived at the holding cell at the Phoenix
police department I called my sister and had her drive to Phoenix to
pick me up and pay the fines with money that I had left with her for
this purpose.  She then drove me back to Tucson where I spent the night
at her home.
     The following morning I said my goodbyes and struck out to the edge
of town and across the desert, traveling toward San Diego by night.  It
took me about a week to get there and once there I headed toward Los
Angeles via the Coastal Highway.  I arrived in L.A. almost three weeks
after leaving Tucson.  
     When I got to Los Angeles I spent my first night in town in a
shelter for the homeless.  This in itself was an experience that one
could write several books about.  Upon my arrival at the shelter it
became a slow and tedious process of hurry up and wait.  In order to
get a meal you had to wait for several hours in the waiting room until
they past out tickets for you to eat.  Then you had to wait several more
hours before they opened the dinning room for you to enter.  Once you
entered the dining room and went through the line to eat the simple meal
(it wasn't mom's home cooking, but if you were hungry, it was good) you
then went back out into the waiting room and waited for them to pass out
more tickets for you to get a place to sleep for the night.  The waiting
was a pain, but I soon found by watching others that if you did wait you
didn't eat and you did get a place to sleep for the night.  By this time
I was feeling fairly depressed and wasn't about to sleep outside another
night.  I needed a shower, which, as it turned out, was obligatory,
along with a free louse inspection and spraying if it was found that you
were carrying uninvited guest, and I needed time to think out my next
move.
     It always seems that during the hardest times in my life I always
turn to God.  Not because I am overly zealous as a believer, but more
because I do seem to get a certain amount of comfort from him during
the most difficult times of my life, and sometimes I even get
inspiration.  I cannot and will not say whether or not it comes from
God, but when I need it the most the help seems to appear only after I
have done some serious praying.  Such was the case this time.  As I lay
there praying quietly to myself, a rather forlorn and skinny looking
fellow in the bed next to me looked over and said, "if you need a place
to stay and hid for a while, why don't you go check out the Hudson
House".
     It never occurred to me at the time, that this might have been a
message from the man upstairs, but it certainly was an answer to my
prayers.  I thanked the fellow and went to sleep feeling much better
about the events of the past several weeks.
     The next morning I woke up and went down to the free breakfast that
they gave to all of the overnighters as we were called and then packed
my kit and found a pay phone. I called the office of Social Services in
L.A. and inquired about the HUdson House, and obtained the phone number. 
I then called and was told that there was one opening at House number
one and given direction to the place.

     I had just enough money to take a L.A. Bus to the location of house
number one which to my delight was just one block down from Grauman's
Chinese Theater and the heart of Hollywood.  The house was located on
Franklin Avenue.<2E>     When I arrived I was met at the door by a fellow who I shall refer
to as Robert.  The reason I am changing this young man's name will
become obvious in a moment.  When I came into the house I was escorted
to the dinning room area and invited to sit down and fill out the
necessary forms, which seemed fairly standard in a situation like this. 
The rules of Hudson House were explained to me.  For the first two weeks
there I was obligated to travel out with several other members of the
house to solicit donations from the outlying communities for the
American Missions Association, which sponsored the operations of the
Hudson Houses.  At the end of the two week period I would then be
allowed time to go out and find a job in the local community and I would
agree to pay the Hudson House operation $200.00 per week for room and
board.  Under the circumstances this seemed fairly reasonable to me and
as I filled out the paperwork I thought that perhaps this would be the
ideal situation for a while, then I would move on again once I was able
to establish myself a little bit of a nest egg.  What came next was more
than just a little bit of a surprise.
     As I sat there filling out the paperwork I came across a form that
at first seemed innocuous until I looked at the bottom of it.  Printed
there were the letters G, B, S, and the instructions to circle one.  Not
understanding what it meant I asked Bob and he told me that it meant
Gay, Bi-sexual, or Straight.  I didn't think anything more of it at that
moment thinking that it was California and the people that lived there
were a bit different to begin with so I circled S since I was neither
of the first two (here comes the kicker gang).  When I circled the S Bob
got a funny look on his face and started to hem and hah a little bit. 
Finally he looked at me and said that there was a problem.  "Oh?", says
I. "What kind of a problem is that?"  Hudson House is a halfway house
for Gays . . .. "OOOOK!" I think to myself.
     I must have turned white or something, because Bob tried to be as
nice as he could, and you have to bear in mind that all of this took
place within a matter of milliseconds.  Thinking fast, I looked him dead
in the eye and said, "I don't have a problem with that if you don't". 
     After several minutes of discussion with Bob, I assured him that
I had nothing against Gays and would respect them and their lifestyle
if they accorded me the same respect.  Besides, I told him, I needed a
place to live and more or less get my collective shit together and
currently this was the best offer in town.  After making a few phone
calls to the administrators of the operation he agreed to give it a try
for a while to see how things went.  I could write a book about the
following three months.  It was an experience that I shall never forget,
and believe it or not, one that I shall remember with a certain amount
of fondness.  I learned a great deal, and many of those lessons have
helped me considerably since then.  I will say this, however.  There is
nothing stranger than to have a gay in love with another gay come to you
and ask advice about what he, or for that matter, she, should do to win
over the other.  By the time I left, they were referring to me as "Papa
Bear", the "Ann Landers" of the Gay World (What a distinction!).
     I lived at the Hudson House in L.A. for about three months, during
which time I did my two weeks of service and was then allowed to go out
and seek employment.  Using the services provided by the organization,
I found a job working at a restaurant that was owned, operated, and
frequented by gays in the local community, as a fry cook at $5.00 and
hour.  It wasn't the greatest paying job in the world, but it allowed
me the opportunity to support myself and at the same time save enough<67>money to begin phase two of my now established plan.  I must admit that
being more or less an observer of life, I enjoyed the real life drama
that was taking place around me.  One of these days, if I ever get to
the point where I can stop being a UFO Investigator, I might sit down
and write several books about the incidents.  In many respects, I doubt
seriously that you could go through much of that without splitting your
sides in laughter.
     At the end of three months I had managed to save enough money to
begin phase two, which was to leave California without notice and head
eastward to the farm my mother had bought several years previously in
Virginia, and where she had recently moved when she and my step father
had retired.  During the second week in November, just after I got my
pay check from the restaurant, I informed the managers that I was
quitting without notice.  I then went back to the Hudson House and
packed my bags telling everyone that I had to return to Arizona for an
emergency in the family and walked to the bus station where I then
caught a bus for Virginia.
     During the next eight years I spent a fairly quiet life.  The first
year I lived on my mother's farm, working and helping her and my dad to
remodel the farmhouse.  During this period my step-father was forced to
return to work in Saudi Arabia as a construction engineer on a project
there.  I personally think it was because my mother was turning him into
a lunatic, but in any case I spent most of the year alone with what at
the time appeared to be the mad woman of chalet (or something like
that).  In any case she made me slightly crazy.  After about a year, she
and I more or less got tired of each other, and one day I told her that
I didn't think that I would make a very good farmer.  Her reply to that
was, "Ok. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out".  I left
that day and moved into Lynchburg, Virginia, which was the closest town
to the farm, and as it happened was the home of Liberty University and
Gerry Falwell.  Whom I later came to victimize on a fairly regular basis
when I went into late night radio.
     During the next several years I quietly disassociated myself from
UFO's and research into that field, eventually divorcing my wife and
remarrying a second time.  The marriage lasted about three months and
ended rather nastily when she awoke one morning to inform me that she
was pregnant and she didn't want to be, and that I was a royal pain in
the ass, and that she didn't want to be married anymore.  Not a real
confidence booster.  Especially in light of the fact that we had dated
each other for the better part of a year and a half before I asked her
to marry me, and we discussed the fact that I couldn't handle a second
loss of this nature.  Oh well . . . so much for promises and love. 
Needless to say I more or less fell apart at the seams for a while and
went on a six month toot that would have made W.C. Fields proud. 
Eventually however, I did get my shit back together again.  By this time
I was working at a radio station in Crewe, Virginia and writing articles
for the local weekly newspaper.  She had the baby and tried to hit me
for child support, and circumstances being what they were I am probably
one of the few men in this country to be crazy enough to stand in front
of a judge and tell him that he'd see me pay "that woman" $200.00 a
month in child support, when he saw christ walk on earth for a second
time, and get away with it.
          During the two years that I lived in Crewe, things were more
or less quiet with the exception of one incident.  The house that I
lived in was just two blocks away from the local police department.  The<68>town used to be a railroad terminal station, but when the railroad cut
back it more or less died on it's feet and there were only about nine
hundred people living there and the town employed only two cops.  Both
of which reminded me slightly of Barney Fife and Gomer Pyle.  I never
realized that there really were those kind of people in the world.
     I was at home that night watching the television and had gotten up
to get a soft drink from the kitchen.  By this time I had sworn off
alcohol of any kind, having learned a valuable lesson during my divorce
from my second wife.  When I came back into the living-room I tripped
over my shoe laces of all things, and fell face forward onto the floor. 
As I fell, some one started firing automatic weapons fire into the front
of the house.
     The gun fire went on for watch seemed to be an eternity, but in
reality was only a few minutes, but later estimates by the local
sheriff's department and state police stated that at least several
thousands of rounds were emptied into the front of the house.  Due to
the construction of the house, a concrete foundation wall about three
feet high is what apparently saved my life.  At first the law
enforcement agencies thought that it might be something that my ex-
father in-law decided to do since I was not budging on inch on the child
support thing, and he had the reputation of being slightly radical when
it came to his daughters.  They weren't able to prove anything though
and the investigation more or less was dropped.  In the meantime I
decided it was a more healthy idea to find different lodgings and
quietly disappear again.
     This time I moved to Blackstone, Virginia where I went to work for
a gentleman by the name of George Walker, who owned a cattle farm and
raised Angus Cattle.  I worked for George for several months until I
stepped down from a tractor one day and ruptured the ligaments in my
right knee and had to have surgery.  It took me several months to
recover from that, and of course George's insurance paid for everything,
so I had an extended vacation whether I wanted it or not.  During this
time I recovered and did a little writing for the local paper.
     It was at this time my mother contacted me and told that she had
gone to a farm auction to buy a pig and fatten it up for the home farm's
freezer.  The wind was apparently blowing, she heard pig, 20, and
assumed that she was bidding on a pig for twenty dollars.  She raised
her hand to bid and found out latter that she bought the pig farm for
$20,000.00.  Would I be interested in coming out and helping her and dad
get it in operation??
     After laughing hysterically and falling out of my chair, I informed
her that she would see me working on a pig farm when pigs grew wings. 
She kept after me for about three months until finally I gave in.  She
got me with the bit about having to go into the hospital for surgery and
how she was going to need help. Take a bit of advice guys.  Watch out
for that one.  I found myself shoveling pig shit for six months by hand. 
The only good thing that came out of that was I met my third and present
wife, and had the clearest sinuses I've had in thirty-eight years
Phewww!
     I met my third wife Valerie and her children, when I went to find
a part time job at the local radio station in Brookneal, Virginia.  This
one was more or less a whirlwind courtship.  Neither of us was really
interested in getting married, and found ourselves living together more
for economy than anything else.  Valerie had conned me into starting to
go to church with her and after several months it came time for what the<68>Baptist church referred to as revival.  Somehow or other Valerie and I
were volunteered to invite the visiting minister and his wife and our
minister and his wife for dinner.  Some how or other we found ourselves
walking down the aisle the morning of the dinner.  I still think that
I was had, but in the end it was the best thing that happened to me. 
During the past three years Valerie has been supportive of my work and
has stood by me all the way.  That doesn't mean there haven't been a few
interesting moments, but all in all it hasn't been bad at all.
     Shortly after our marriage I went to work at a radio station in
Lynchburg called WLVA, which had the distinction of being one of the
oldest radio stations in the country.  Having once again told my mother
that I was not a farmer and my nose couldn't take anymore, I went to
work for WLVA and was able to win several awards for my production work
and my nightly radio talk show.  I might add that one of my favorite
things to do was to take pot shots at Gerry Falwell, who may be greatly
loved by the masses outside of Virginia, but who in reality gave the
term hemorrhoid a new meaning, and is not thought to highly of in
Lynchburg.
     It was during my tenure at WLVA I began to receive rather cryptic
messages from my father in the mail telling me that some "Asshole" (not
my words) was pestering the shit out him and his secretaries, and that
I had "damned well better do something about it!"
































<EFBFBD>


















CHAPTER FIVE
JOHN LEAR

     As it turned out the "Asshole" was John Lear, and he wasn't really
an asshole at all.  Unfortunately, my father misinterpreted John's
persistence and desires to get in contact with me, and didn't really
give him a chance.  And to be perfectly honest, I, at the time wasn't
really interested in contacting John because I had finally reached a
point in my life where everything in my life was going well, and I was
happy.
     During the course of the next several months I received several
more terse messages from my father but did nothing about them.  Then one
night while working at the radio station I happened to see a story on
the Associate Press Wire Service concerning Walt Andrus, Founder and
Director of MUFON.  The story seemed to be extremely out of character
for Walt from what little I knew of him, and it was of such a nature
that I could no longer ignore the possibility of coming back into the
investigative field of UFOlogy.  After giving it a great deal of thought
I contacted Wendelle Stevens at his home in Arizona.  Needless to say,
Wendelle damned near had a heart attack when he heard my voice on the
phone.  Playing catch up for thirty or so seconds and finding out that
I had a prominent part in a recent book published by Bill Steinman and
himself, I agreed to read the book and asked him not to let anyone know
that I was alive and well contrary to the belief that I had been killed,
until I had a chance to think things through.  He agreed and sent a copy
of the Book "UFO Crash at Aztec" for me to read.
     Within the next few days the book arrived and I sat down to read
it carefully.  As I read it, it became apparent to me that other
evidence had come to light that substantiate everything that I had been
saying all along for the past twelve or so years.  It was then that I
made the decision to contact John Lear.
     When I called the number that had been forwarded to me by my
father, I represented myself as Bill English's lawyer, saying that he
was overseas and had asked me to contact him and find out what he
wanted.  John was very pleasant on the phone and explained that he want
to talk to "Bill" about his viewing of "Blue Book Report #13.  I then<65>asked what he wanted to know and he explained that he was investigating
the claims and needed more information concerning them.  I told him that
I would pass the message on and let Mr. English know.
     I then waited several more days before contacting John.  This time
as myself.  We talked and he asked if he could meet me in Virginia to
talk with me.  the rest you already know from Chapter one of this
document.
     Very shortly after John's visit, WLVA began to experience severe
financial difficulties and there were forced to release much of the
production and air staff, so I lost my job.  It was at this point that
my wife and I decided that it was now necessary for my to once again
become active in the investigative fields.  We had the money and
opportunity to move so we came to Alamogordo, New Mexico for a number
of reason.  The first being, oddly enough, that I was born here.  The
second reason was because it was the last place I visited while actively
investigating before my disappearance.  I had unfinished business here.
     Since our return here I have been quietly investigating the Black
and Horn incident, trying to gain evidence to verify what took place
that night on the Missile Range.  So far without much luck, but in the
meantime I, and my associate Dick Shefler have founded UFINET, UFO News
and Information Service which is devoted to cooperation with other
Investigative Organizations and Investigators.  Admittedly, there are
a certain few that are giving me an ulcer because of the crud that is
being said about myself and some of the material that is going out, but
all in all we have met with a great deal of success.
CLOSING

     Here is the story . . . make what you will of it, and form your
own opinions, but certainly don't believe everything that you've read. 
As I have said before, the material I viewed in the Grudge/Blue Book
Report #13, could have been false information designed to mislead those
of you trying to get at the truth.  However, based on the other
information that has come to light over the past ten years, I doubt it. 
I present the story of what I saw with this possibility in mind and
relate only what I had happen to me.
     Since 1977 there have been a total of what appeared to be fifteen
attempts against my life.  Like many of you I find it difficult to
believe that if the government wanted me dead they would have failed in
their efforts.  Which leaves open several possibilities. The first and
most unlikely being that they are complete incompetents, and the second
being that the attempts are an effort to motivate me into certain
directions.  As it is I am making an effort to let the public know that
whatever is going on, it is happening and that we need more evidence and
information before we even know what questions to ask in order to obtain
the answers that we as investigators so desperately need.
     Form your own opinions about this report I have written, but
whatever you do, stay open to the possibilities and examine the world
around you carefully before you become locked into a narrow minded view
of the world around you.

Bill English

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