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  • Jeff Foss
    After dinner tonight, I thought it would be good to sit down and continue writing. In April 1995, my wife noticed a little ad in the local paper mentioning a
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 6, 2002
      After dinner tonight, I thought it would be good to sit down and continue writing. In April 1995, my wife noticed a little ad in the local paper mentioning a UFO Conference to be held at Plymouth State College in Plymouth NH. I was given the floor to speak a little about September 26, 1976. I realized that the presenter was a regional director for MUFON. I asked to file officially. One thing that is so hard for experiencers with multiple lifelong encounters and abductions is that official reports are geared to one sighting. Not only that, the questions are narrow in content: �Were there power lines?; were you drinking or using hallucinatory drugs?, etc But where were the questions about alien/human interaction; about technological discovery and disclosure; social discovery and disclosure; genetics; history; science; art?

      It seems the reports are designed to place most cases in the �swamp gas� category. For instance, I was tripping over whether there were power lines nearby�as the questioner noted there had to have been some in order for this or other cases to be taken seriously (which is sheer bunk). Another pressuring question: �Was the light illuminating the ground?� I was not focused on that as there was so much more meat to this by way of maneuvers, connection with abductee, etc. So I answered no. But there was a drop off into a marsh on the other side of the road with brush in the foreground�and no power lines. Anyway, the researcher from that point was tongue and cheek with me from that point forward�even when he was made witness to my receiving a triangular scar during this rather lopsided researcher/ abductee relationship and even though he had also seen a white globular object the same size as mine in Vermont a few years before this�and his was just zipping along setting speed records after doing a close flyby.

      On September 5, 1995 at 10:30pm, I fell asleep in the living room chair. At 3:30am on September 6th, I awoke with wet shoes and a terrible itch on my upper right arm just below the shoulder. There was a large round cap of drying blood. So I went into the bathroom for good lighting and peeled it off. Underneath the drying blood was a perfect triangular biopsy with an even depth of 1/45 of an inch and perfect laser geometry along its lines and to its 3 points. A tare? No way! Of course, the researcher happened to be away in Europe and every second he was gone was agonizing. Fortunately, within two days, he returned. I had left an urgent message (well actually a few urgent messages). He knocked on the door and I showed him the biopsy/scar. Somehow, it was nonchalantly treated as if this might have been staged by people. But I may never know the real reason. Now I was in a worse boat than ever. I put my best foot forward and ended up with a windfall of evidence only to be left in a vacuum of discredit enough to drive anyone insane. I was better off mentioning 1976 to believers here and there. This vacuum was like the darkness of doom and despair. Then I contracted a terrible case of pneumonia with lasted 4 months. Triangular scar picture: �1995 Triangular Scar.�

      Finally, another researcher took an interest in the case as I started to have sudden and spontaneous recollection of events of September 5th and 6th. I know that certain places, smells, objects, etc. can trigger memories. But these would come regardless of stimuli. And it was agonizingly slow. An explosion of three distinct initial memories followed by a 2 month wait. The first thing recalled was sitting in a molded type chair with a city passing beneath me seen through a large curved screen or window. Seated across from me and a little to my right was a young boy who apparently had been abducted as well. We seemed to both be passing in and out of consciousness. At this particular point in time, our eyes briefly met. Judging from the particular curve of the window, it seemed that we were near the bottom of a globular craft. In the second memory, I am conscious again but now a floor or two higher up in the orb as the curve of the window was now straighter. Here, I was in a molded chair right up against the window and I didn�t see anyone else. But out the window, I saw some African hunting party (would love having help to identify the weave and pattern of the long gown they were all wearing�and then pay a visit�). They were attempting to run away from the descending craft I was aboard and watching from.

      I remember thinking, �They�re not going to get very far.� There was a winding brown muddy river off to their left and dry yellow grass all around with some short, thorny shrubs. Then I faded out again. By the way, it was daytime�this flight embarked at night. Third memory: Being dragged/floated backward through a control room area in the middle section of the globular craft. There were two grays at the controls, two carrying me and one watching from the entrance I had just come through�the two at the controls: �1995 Grays.� The two who were carrying me placed me in some transparent metal tank resembling a bathtub filled with a cool and almost light as air breathable liquid.

      I was immersed but barely panicked as I was reassured I was in no danger and could breathe normally. At first the feeling was cold, not so much the fluid, but the atmosphere between myself and them. They levitated the tank to an upright position�remarkably, the fluid stayed inside the tank area. I could see the control panel again but the two grays who had been there were now gone. The two grays with me watched me from about a foot and a half away. Their eyes, looking deep into my soul, saw courage and not fear, nobility and not vanity, love and song and not meaningless clanging and greed. Everything suddenly changed. Now there was a warmth, I felt included. View from inside the fluid tank: �1995 Breathable Fluid Tank.� At this and as the ship suddenly slowed down, I was allowed to freely walk to a window and witness pre-docking maneuvers with a mother ship in space: �1995 In Space.�

      At MUFON conferences, I felt like I had to play the role of researcher while a wealth of experience and disclosure was blatantly being ignored. Finally, I rolled up my sleeve and showed the NH director the triangular scar which at this point in time was beginning to heal over and the geometry was softening and the scar area was getting smaller�but it was still very plain. I was left to cry on others shoulders for support�a position none of us like to be in. Interestingly, a circle of yellowed grass which accompanied the scar had also been ignored. But a memory which took over two years to surface confirmed the yellow circle of grass. You see, I couldn�t remember being carried out at first. Why? I had been carried out backward! We are used to moving forward, not backward. But as an artist from a young age, there was one minor detail which my very sharp eye didn�t miss. Between the living room chair and the back yard was a large sliding glass door and window array. There was a huge neutral-yellowish curtain which was pulled closed at night before bed. The curtain was illuminated from out in the backyard. That is, a brilliant white light was out in the back yard and I could see the illuminated curtain in the eye of one of the two grays whom was not stealthed by my own shadow: �1995 The Curtain.� Now�.that�.this�.memory�.finally�.jogged�.loose�. I remembered the back yard as if it had just happened. The grass was blindingly lit. Still styled backwards, we went up through a semi rounded hatchway and the grass was only a few feet below. In that yard, there were tall pines as a barrier from I-93. So the ship sat near the ground for general concealment. The curvature of the walls at this entry matched the curvature of my very first memory in the seating room near the bottom of a globular craft. As my eyes adjusted to the darker interior of this room of the craft, I began to see details like a small panel of buttons on the wall but then passed out. By the time this all gelled, research into this case was long gone. There are further profound aspects to this case: The council of composite species and Galaxy M88 which was drawn earlier on in say 1996. Then in 2000, I bumped into a distant Hubble image fitting the drawing exactly. Not only are the sister galaxies identical but also the great gulf in that direction between galactic arms. The two pictures are laid together: �1995 From Above A galaxy.�

      One nice thing during all this was I had friends living nearby at Stinson Lake who have been seeing UFOs around there for years. The land there, formally of military interest, could now be being used for extraterrestrial mining purposes. Buster Hinkson snapped this photo of a strange UFO which seems to be either changing shape or has other smaller globes around it (or both). Under strict scrutiny using Corel 9 imaging, it is clear that a dark area below the craft (the shadow) is being reflected on the underside with mirror perfection. This is strikingly apparent at 600% magnification �2000 Photo-Stinson Lake NH.�

      So far, all these memories and occurrences were taking place without the aid of regression. But when I did get to regression, childhood abductions just leaped out of nowhere. I went there to gain even more about September 5th & 6th 1995, but instead ended up at some incredible childhood experiences first. These began to disclose a peaceful agenda�at least among these particular grays. My first memory recovered in regression was the �1968 Age 10� experience. There were male and female grays being very gentle with me and a home world head who reflected approval over this project(?). I was shown genetics technology, deep voyage artificial environmental replication technology, liquid sub micro chips, water as for beauty and energy, wireless micro communications sensors. The very first thing to appear as out of a haze were the rectangular yellow lights running around the rim of the room. In session two, still in want for more up to date revelation, I ended up going to age five and to a city in space and a city beneath the sea. This story will probably take up the same space or more than all the accounts thus far and it is full of insight into humanoid/gray cooperation, technologies, and interaction with man. I will address it in a third stage. I had pictures upon pictures of this in a Windows 95 computer and then it crashed. I didn�t reconstruct them in Win98se but thanks XP for being a whole different OS. Now I can work to my heart�s content and burn CDs as well. Drained.

      Unceasing thanks --Jeff Foss







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