Coming out of the Alien Closet

Fri, 4 Sep 2009 00:00:00 -0500

I grew up in a haunted farmhouse in North Dakota. Some of my earliest memories were of a ghost, but that is a subject for a future blog. This one deals with aliens.

My family was fairly open minded about other dimensions, even back in the late forties when I was born. Growing up in this environment probably fostered my interest in all things strange. We lived in a very rural, sparsely populated community of farmers, mostly level headed and very conservative. The school I attended averaged from three to seven students in each grade, one through twelve.

One frigid winter night in the early fifties, immediately after the Christmas school program, one of the students reported seeing a bright light west of the small town Kloten, where our school was housed. I was too young to go along, but my older brothers and some other students piled into their cars and sped out of town on the gravel road. I don’t think they “caught” the light, or the reason for it, but it was fascinating to think that something other than a meteorite caused that lighting up of the sky.

Another time, before I was born, my family was driving home from Devils Lake, a town about 50 miles northwest of our farm. Strangely, a very bright light hovered over the car for several miles as they traveled down the highway. Until my parents died, they argued whether it was a green or orange light.

On a different occasion, my oldest brother Bob recalled seeing a blinding green light lighting up the back seat of the car as the family was traveling down a county gravel road.

So this was the attitude I grew up in—there was something out there. We accepted it, wondered about it, were kind of fascinated with it, but lived a grounded, day-to-day existence.

I grew up to have my own experiences. I always knew/felt I was different from everyone else. The strange and paranormal interested me the most. Movies, books, TV shows--everything else paled by comparison.

Eventually I became a schoolteacher. Even then, in a conservative environment, my interest in weird things came to light, and I almost lost my job because of it. A group of my ninth-grade students and I did experiments in astral travel. We would agree to meet in my classroom at night, and I can still remember seeing one of my students in a rocking chair, which existed in her home but not at school! It was fun, but back then everything dealing with ESP, etc., was considered to be witchcraft and therefore evil.

After leaving teaching, I found myself working for a metaphysical publishing company in Saint Paul, Minnesota. At Llewellyn I felt I was finally home. No one thought I was strange or weird there. Seeing ghosts and other dimensional entities was considered a gift and talent.

On one occasion in the late '80s, I was honored to accompany the owners, Carl and Sandra Weschcke, to a unique town hall meeting in Elm River, Wisconsin. The reason for the meeting was to gather support and hopefully secure money to build a landing site to welcome UFOs. Pretty far out! I was fascinated, excited and—naive. I even encouraged my bosses to contribute money. They were a little more savvy than I was. Besides, it's easy to spend someone else's money.

While the town fathers droned on and made their presentations, I was able to relax and observe everything that was going on. The auditorium was old, the stage was made of old wood, and it was slightly dark up there. I began to see images behind the row of speakers. Here they were inviting aliens into their midst, and unknown to them, they were already there. I was able to clearly "see" several otherworldly creatures. They appeared to me to be bemused at the townspeople's efforts, but then how could we know what emotions ETs have, if they have any at all. It seemed to me the scenario was similar to patient, tolerant parents watching very young children at play.

After twenty some years, I can still see the beings in my mind's eye. They appeared to manifest all the different types of ETs that people have reported seeing. The classic grey alien, the praying mantis type, a hooded figure, etc. It was like something out of a Star Wars movie. It wasn’t something I expected to see, nor was I looking for it, but wow, what a neat experience.

Later, on assignment to cover a Psychotronic conference in Kentucky, I heard Budd Hopkins speak for the first time. It was a huge, modern hall, in a fancy hotel, and the place was packed. I was in the middle of the audience. Shortly after Budd started his talk, I noticed that he wasn’t alone up there. Again I saw a classic greyish alien. This one freaked me out. I didn’t sense a benign energy. I discretely left the room. I remember that I didn’t want that thing to know that I could see it, did not want its energy or eyes looking my way. I would periodically look in the hall to hear/see Budd, but the damn thing was always up there. It didn’t go away. I wonder why it was there, what it was thinking, and where it was from. There are so many things we don't know.

During this era of the late '80s, I had some challenges in my personal life. I guess that always inspires some soul searching and forces change. I did a lot of meditating, some fasting, had clean dietary habits, and led a hermit life. I kept track of dreams in a dream journal and came to have a lot of lucid dreams.

One of the dream themes dwelt with aliens. These felt much more friendly. Every night for a period of time I would meet them. They looked to be about three feet tall, and were dressed in what looked like gold lamé stretch suits. We would have fun, play and cavort. They had what looked to me like a cardboard flying carpet. I’m sure it was much more sophisticated than that, but it looked like a large flat piece of cardboard that was approximately three feet off the ground, and we sped around sitting on top of it.

Then one night before sleep I received a very strong, clear message: don’t hang around them anymore. Don’t know if this was a spoil-sport spirit guide of mine, or some entity who was protecting my spirit/sanity, but I paid attention, and did what it told me to do. I cut off that association, but I missed my little space buddies.

The dreams during that time provided another interesting memory. I wasn’t particularly happy in my daily life, and on some level wasn’t sure I wanted to live much longer on this earth. I took solace in my dreams. One night I was told I could contact my home world one time. This happened long before the movie ET. The device that was shown in my dream looked like a combination DNA helix and tuning fork. I still have the drawing in my dream journal.

Since then, I have come to terms with living in this physical body on earth, and am much more accepting of the time I have chosen to spend here. Maybe sometime I will try to contact my home planet...

Phyllis’ Strange Experiences

Coming out of the Alien Closet