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Jeff Foss other self-remembered experiences

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  • Jeff Foss
    Hello again everyone, Before going into the age 5 experience, I should fill in some gaps in time with the other experiences consciously or self-remembered in
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 6, 2002
      Hello again everyone,

      Before going into the age 5 experience, I should fill in some gaps in time with the other experiences consciously or self-remembered in this lifelong story of "abduction"/alien interaction.

      Shortly after September 26, 1976, I was compelled to somehow rise above a herded cattle Iife of consumerism and endless labor to that end and threw all essentials (clothes, artwork, piano, speakers) into my Chevy Kingswood Estate station wagon bound for California. At night, just 10mi. east of Kingman AZ there was one of the reddish-orange lighted globular ships out of the drivers side window following along parallel to the road and maintaining the exact speed of the vehicle. It was about 2,000 ft. away and 2,000 feet in altitude above the highway and about the size of a small marble held at arms length. Then it passed over head across to the opposite equidistant position out of the passenger side window and maintained parallel trajectory there as well. The duration of parallel maneuvers was about two minutes on each side over the course of about 7 crisscross aerial displays. Note, the speed during the cross overs was rapid--about 2 seconds to fall into perfect opposite parallel and then the abrupt slow to car speed each time--not to mention steep right angle turning involved. The object then sped away to the west and was lost in the lighted skies of Searchlight NV and Kingman AZ. Duration from vehicle parallel to vanishing point was about 6 seconds. Comically, as I crossed the bridge into California some minutes later, right at the welcome sign at mid bridge, the musical phrase, "Welcome to the Hotel California" blurted out over the car radio! This could not have been better timed in a thousand years. I reached the coast at Santa Monica cliffs just in time to witness five major fireworks displayed along miles and miles of beach from cliff side. It was July 4, 1977.

      In the February 1978 ice storm while driving from San Diego to Boston, I was swept off the road by the wind sheer from a truck cab while attempting to pass on black ice approaching Ft. Worth. I spun 180, landed in the median ditch, bounced out onto the oncoming lane on the opposite side of the highway with my rear end facing perpendicular across said lane... There was a convoy of trucks bearing down on my position also on black ice. Moreover, the car had stalled. I had about 2 seconds to decide whether to get out of the car or try to start it. The thermostat had been removed in San Diego which was making it hard to start averaging about 11 tries after stopping. But some force guided my hand to the key and turned it. The car started. Next, even with an impulse to floor it to escape pending doom my foot was eased onto the pedal barely touching it and the car spun on the black ice just enough to rest parallel facing the oncoming trucks which then wind blasted me back into the median ditch. Gently turning the wheel to the right with slow increase to acceleration, I ascended the opposite slope of the median, popped out between oncoming cars and made a graceful turn in the slow lane heading back for Ft. Worth. People honked furiously. Sorry. This ice storm scenario... well, I'll leave it to you.

      In April the same year, I had driven out to Salinas CA and was en route eastward again across northern Nevada along I-80. It was 2:30am and I had forgotten to fill up in Reno. I continued east in hopes of finding a roadside filling station--no such luck and my gauge was nearing "E." I was maintaining 65mph and suddenly I am waking up as the gauge read 35mph and falling. I look up to get my bearings and see a sign moving slowly by saying, "Elko 12mi." But two seconds ago, I was near Lovelock traveling along the W. Humboldt Range. In the distance, I noticed red and white business lights along the right side of the road. As they neared, I was still uncertain as to whether it was a convenient store or gas station that might still be closed. The engine stopped and I was now at the mercy of momentum and I threw it

      into neutral. The car rolled to a perfect stop next to a gas pump and the station was open. I was happy to see the attendant and he was happy because I was happy. That seemed to matter more than whatever had happened back there. But after regression many years later, memories returned which were triggered by other memories being uncovered. On that April night in Nevada, a wide beam of white light had picked up the car, a 1966 Cadillac, with me in it. I did not see the interior of the craft above this time, but we can go there later in regression, I'm sure.

      Some days after arrival to my destination at Columbia MO, I was awakened from a sound sleep. I was in a trailer in a decent tree filled trailer park with a swimming pond in the back. An alien appeared tele-pathically standing behind me and outside under an oak tree. I could see him as if I were standing and looking straight at him from a distance of about 10 ft.--the same distance to that spot under the oak.

      He held a silver rod with a sleek marquee shaped slit running the length of it with a stone or light fixed in the center resembling a 1/2 carat sapphire. Then some kind of thought waves or patterns were bounced off the rod which made a barely audible "ping" noise and I was enveloped in them all though my mind. I asked, "What is your name?," and he answered, "Teil" (not teal though the sound is the same). I could also see the word as it is said in English reading, "Teil." I noticed the features of this gray well. Rather than coveralls, he was in a pants and jacket type attire with a fine seam like a zipper line running up the middle of the jacket. There was no collar and the gray skin tones matched the gray of all the attire. There was also a soft boot made of the same material in the same color. He was friendly and obviously approachable. For the next five minutes, I somehow trustingly relaxed while swimming in these extensive thought patterns. Then they quickly faded and I fell fast asleep. The next morning, I was grabbing paper and writing down some very high order of thinking formulas spanning law, physics, nature, you name it burning up page after page. Friends were wowed but also concerned about me. People stopped coming by like they used to. Fortunately, I had a rare opportunity to save a drowning child at the pond. He was extending his arm for help but no one noticed, so I jumped in clothes and all and pulled him out. This at least kept the possibility of my being totally nuts down to a soft roar of "undecided." I was handling it all alone then too. I went around the country playing piano in major hotels. I would be at a place for a while and then move on to another. In retrospect, the series, "The Invaders" with Roy Thinnis somewhat strikes home in regard to the lonely road aspect. I had no idea there were organizations like MUFON or APRO or of the existence of experiencer/abductee groups.

      In 1986, at Harrison ME, the experience with the mean orange type of gray was strikingly similar with that of Teil where they both involved thought patterns and telepathy. But this time, memories were being cross fused in an attempt to cripple my use of talents. All the pain of life put together in a single moment was crossed with memories of performing on piano. Rather than experiencing joy and elation while sharing this talent, I was suffering while performing. The suggestion was, "If you use your talent, you will suffer beyond your wildest imagination." But my spirit confronted him with my "What are you doing here?" challenge and he fled as if sucked up through a straw into the sky. The next day, I began to draw, write and compose again. It kept flowing out like water with dignity and serenity as never before. It also helped to live in the beautiful and peaceful environs of western Maine. During this time, I was also applying hands on work on forest beautification and restoration--taking landscaping to the next level with the inclusion and enhancement of the forest environment. The knowledge, talent and compulsion was coming from somewhere else. In 1988, after volunteering to restore a peninsula at northern Maine's Moosehead Lake, I was hired at a supervisory capacity to take care the 35,000 acre Bigelow Preserve and Flagstaff Lodge. This was a temporary position, but I was there long enough to receive a very great vision. It is based on a scripture from Isaiah which reads, "They will bend their spears into pruning hooks and their swords into plowshares." We know this has never happened--yet. "Conservation Exchange" is the word I could see spelled out and it works like this: Global military and civilians work together in environmental restoration and enhancement with emphasis on forests. Trillions in dollars can be taken from destructive hardware and only millions are needed for personal and equipment (globally). Therefore, a windfall of $trillions can go to R&D, education, local environmental projects, fuel-less technology, arts, education, the needy and cures. Environmental restoration, built-in peacekeeping in the greatest way,--an international team working together using many talents in a single great purpose--and a way to finally shower the money where it is needed to begin building a real future for this planet all inclusive in this one plan of international governance and global participation. Now this is not to endorse a one world government but rather to include every individual in the greatest governing plan ever.

      Here and there, I have worked for the needy and disabled as well as for environmental preservation. Lately, we can add managing a National Forest recreation area/ campground and maintaining a nature preserve and property to date. In April 2000, I won the NH Talent America first place award and went on to NY in July 2000 to receive the second place award in the National Competition. I smile inwardly when people say, "It will never happen" and "though I appreciate your 'Utopian idealism', ..." Utopia? I am addressing Earth. Let's address it together. This brings us back to 1995 and hopefully my age five experience which has so.... much.... detail. I will get there--help me to breathe. We will get there together.

      My profound thanks again to all of you at Antigrav for this opportunity to share.

      All my love and regards


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