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THE
STORY BEGINS.... A
Report By Bill Foster (USA) Co-Author of 'The Black Triangle
Abduction'. You
may not find this story compelling because at the moment, it only has
a beginning. When the "middle"
and the "end" of the story unfold, it may well be a bigger
revelation than the Travis Walton story.
That story, circulated like wildfire in the United States, after
Travis Walton and his four friends spotted
a UFO, low over a mountaintop. Travis Walton jumped out of the truck
and was abducted for seven
days by the grays! This
is the story of a man who was abducted for three days. The catch is
that this man does not yet know the
full extent of his own incredible story. Let's begin at the beginning. My
name is Bill Foster. I wrote a book in 2005 about the abduction of my
wife, our two companions and myself
back in the year 1996. It was called: "THE BLACK TRIANGLE
ABDUCTION." As a result of extensive
publicity upon release of my book Karen and Robert Tate interviewed me
on a national television
show. (I am not using real names in this text for anyone except
myself, as I have not asked for permission
to do so.) One
week after the television show was aired, Karen called me and asked me
if I would mind speaking to a
fellow in Montana named Michael Johnson. She said he had called her
and seemed very distraught about
some "unusual" experiences he was having. Karen remembered
me discussing, during our one- hour
television interview together, scoop marks on both my chins. She said
that Michael has the same sort
of marks and was upset about them. I told her I would be happy to talk
to Michael. Michael
called that evening and we talked for over an hour. Indeed, he was
very upset and as with most people,
had no idea who to talk with that would earnestly listen to his
concerns. (Most folks either laugh or
think you are crazy if you accept UFO experiences as fact.) I
reassured Michael that regardless of what
he said, I would not laugh nor ridicule his thoughts. Michael
said he had been having strange dreams. In his dreams he was seeing
distorted faces that did not look
human. He saw strange bright lights outside his bedroom window on many
evenings. He could not comprehend
if he was awake or dreaming. Then, the scoop marks appeared on his
legs. The morning he discovered
the marks he decided that something real was going on, but he had no
idea what it could be. Michael
was not interested in UFO's or alien abduction. He was neither a
science fiction fan nor a reader of
books of that genre. Michael thought, perhaps, he was losing his mind. I
assured Michael that he was not crazy. His physical marks were real,
not self-inflicted and further had probably
resulted from contact with the "Grays". (The Grays are the
most common form of alien contact promulgated
in the United States. These creatures are about 4' to 4-1/2' tall with
oversized heads, large eyes
and gray, wrinkled skin, hence the nickname: "The Grays".)
This information, of course, did not ease
his mind. I
told Michael to do two things: (1)
Contact the Area Director for the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON) in
Montana and tell him about the
experiences. (2)
(Go to a regression therapist, get hypnotized, and bring back the
events of the past year into clarity I
gave him the phone number for the Area Director of MUFON and I gave
him the name and phone num- ber
of a hypnotherapist close to his home, that would be happy to work
with him. Michael seemed con- cerned
over the cost of this process. I
assure Michael that talking to MUFON costs nothing and the
hypnotherapist could treat him for "stress", "disassociation"
and even post traumatic stress syndrome, the symptoms of which are
treatable and would all
be covered by insurance, (which he had), as a mental impairment.
Michael assured me he would do that. |
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One
week later Michael called me back; there was terror in his voice. I
could sense the strain in his voice
as he chose his words carefully to me. Something new had happened,
something bizarre and ominous.
He had been seeing faces in the night. Ugly, distorted,
"lizard-looking things", as he said, which
terrified him. (Now
it sounded to me as though his encounters were not with grays, but
with a breed some abductees call:
"The Reptilians". These are an aggressive lot who are very
rough on humans, so I am told. I did not
share this information with Michael, it would only have added to his
unstable condition.) I
asked Michael if he had called MUFON or contacted the therapist I
recommended, he had not. Once again,
I urged him to talk with them. I said: "Michael,
I am not a therapist, I am not a doctor, I am not even an investigator
of this phenomenon, and all
I am is a guy, like you, who has had some experiences. I can't help
you — they can help you!" He assured
me he would hang up the phone and call them immediately. The story
ends here for three months. It
is 7:30 p.m. on a Sunday evening. My wife and I are home visiting with
our daughter and our three granddaughters.
The phone rings and I answer. The voice
on the other end of the line asks if I am Bill Foster. I tell the
caller that I am indeed one in the same.
The caller speaks very broken English and he is very hard to
understand. He asks if I know James
Johnson. I pause to think. The name does not ring a bell in my mind. I
ask again who he is. He tells
me his name is Carlos and he is James' Uncle. He apologizes for his
English and tells me he is from
Yugoslavia. He tells me he found my name in James' apartment with my
telephone number underneath
and the words: "UFO" written beside my name. Now it dawns on
me! "Do
you mean Michael Johnson?" I asked him, hesitantly. "Oh
yes.", he replied, "James often used just
his middle name with friends. His full name is James Michael
Johnson." Now I remembered... Carlos
sputtered out his concerns: "James
is in a mental institution. He disappeared for three days and was
found wandering around the edge
of town last night, in his pajamas. The sheriff who found him asked
him what had happened and he
just kept saying 'they took me - they took me'. The sheriff thinks he
is crazy so he takes him to the psychiatric
hospital and they committed him for the next 30 days. Both of James
parents think he is crazy
too so they will not talk to him. I am the only person who
believes James and I thought per- haps
you could help me." At
hearing this revelation, I immediately told Carlos that I would have
to go upstairs so we could have a private
conversation in my office without the background noise level of our
three grandchildren bother- ing
us. I picked up the phone in my office. "Carlos,
can you hear me? Good. Now, what makes you believe James when everyone
else thinks he is crazy?
Why don't you think he is crazy too?" "Well
Bill, James and I have had some 'experiences' together when I have
stayed at his apartment, visiting
him. You see, I am in the mining business and I travel all over the
world. In fact, I have to go out
of town tomorrow and I just hate to leave James in there without
anyone to talk to. I will tell you just
one experience we had together, it happened three days ago. I was
staying with James. We got up in
the morning, glanced at the ceiling in the front room and both said:
'What in the world is that?' It was
a thick mucous-looking gray-white substance covering about a foot
around on the ceiling. Strands of
this stuff were hanging down and it looked wet and a little like human
skin! We took a broom and scrubbed
it off the ceiling and got the spot cleaned up. It was very weird. I
have seen many things the
night at James apartment and they were strange. If James tells me he
was 'taken' by someone or something,
I believe him. I know for a fact he was gone for three days because I
stayed at his apartment until
he was found by the sheriff." |
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I
told the Uncle to immediately call MUFON, same phone number I had
given James three months be- fore.
I assured Carlos that I would contact some folks and call him back. He
told me I could not call him,
as he was leaving the country in about 10 hours. I asked him for a
cell phone number, he refused. I
asked him for his local number, he refused. I asked him for an email
address. He said he 'shared' an email
address with James and gave me that email address. Carlos had one
further revelation to tell me. "You
know Bill, something really bothers me. I went to the hospital and was
told I could not see James for
first 48 hours of incarceration. (NOTE: This is commonplace in all
psychiatric hospitals in the United
States.) I watched a big, black, SUV drive up with government plates
on it and two men in black suits
got out. I followed them to the desk and these two men asked for James
Michael Johnson's room number.
They flashed some badges and were admitted at once. I was able to call
James on the phone sometime
after that and he said the two men were indeed from the government and
showed him two tri- angular
badges with holograms on them and four black lines running diagonally,
across the badges. They
questioned James for over an hour about his 'experience' and then
left. James still sounded very afraid.
Bill, why would the government of this country want to talk to
James?" (Well, my dear reader, you
and I know the answer to that question, don't we?) The
uncle went on to say further that when he went back to James apartment
to get James some clothing and
toilet articles the apartment was padlocked! He could not get in and
the landlord would not speak • to
Carlos about the situation. I
hung up with Carlos by reassuring him I would send him an e-mail as
soon as I got more information. I
told my wife the gist of the conversation and she checked our phone
for caller I.D., the caller's number was
blocked! Carlos would not give me a phone number, a cell phone number
and now the number he called
from was blocked? How do we know this fellow was really James' Uncle? I
immediately called Karen back at the television station and relayed
the story to her. She verified that Carlos
was indeed the Uncle of James. How did she know? It seems that Carlos,
not James, had con- tacted
her in the first place. The Uncle had seen the television show and
wanted James to talk with someone
so he asked her if she would talk to James. She did and then got me to
talk with Michael, as I kqew
him to be named. Now
I know what you are thinking. Why am I not worried that the government
men would track me down?
Those same government agents obviously locked up James apartment and
could easily trace me as
the uncle did from the note on the scratch pad with my phone number.
The reason for my lack of concern
is the single word - publicity. I
am not famous but I am a published author on the subject. The
government knows that if I were "visited"
and questioned about this situation I would immediately call the
television station and give them
all the details. Karen would just as quickly put all that information
out over the airwaves. The government
wants silence on the subject, not publicity! As
I told you at the outset this is only the beginning of the story, the
middle and the end are yet to evolve. Karen
and I are both working with special "contacts" in the UFO
field here in the United States to: 1.
Verify that James Michael Johnson is indeed a captive in this
particular State Psychiatric Hospital 2.
Verify that he is not allowed visitors 3.
To attempt to get James released from this hospital so he may tell his
story to the UFO community
where it will be understood, not derided. This
is not the end of the story; it is, however, the end of the beginning. -
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