MY STRANGE LIFE WITH UFOS AND ALIENS PART II

If you missed part One click here: https://www.ufodigest.com/article/my-strange-life-0826

The next thing I knew it was morning and as always I jumped out of bed and had no memory of these strange men coming into my bedroom; until it happened again.

Then one night I heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards my bedroom. I stared at the bedroom door in shock and these two tall strange men walked into my bedroom and over to my bed and just stood next to the bed. I already had my head covered and shaking violently.

It was morning and I had no memory of it. My life seemed normal and I was happy.

One night before bed I decided to close the bedroom door when I turned in. I was always the last one to bed as my two younger brothers were already fast asleep. I just wanted to close the door, something I had never done before. The children’s bedroom doors were to be left open, never closed so our parents could check on us.

I closed the door and was not yet asleep and I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, turning left and coming down the hallway. I panicked and covered my head except for a small opening to watch the door. I saw the door slowly handle turning and these two tall strange men came into my room and walked over to my bed. I screamed out; what’s wrong with those two guys over there, why always me? I was of course referring to my two younger brothers who were fast asleep.

As always I did not remember this when I awoke in the morning but I did start recalling these events later in the day, and that they had happened several times and I wanted to know what they were and the first person I always asked when I had questions was my mother.

I explained what was happening and she smiled and told me I had a very active imagination. I told her it was not my imagination, I saw these strange men coming into my room, I was not dreaming.

She dismissed my claim and told me to forget it; this is not real, it’s imaginary.

One particular morning I remembered the visit several hours before. I jumped out of bed and ran to my mother and told her it happened again. She told me the same thing again, it’s my imagination and to stop bothering her with this nonsense.

The next time it happened I once again ran to my mother telling her about these two tall strange men coming into the bedroom at night and she became very mad and told me the next time I mention this she is going to beat me for lying. I’m not lying I exclaimed.

It was time to ask my dad, but this was a last resort. I never asked him anything but to my amazement once I told my story my dad told me he believed me and he said not to worry about it. He says these are only ghosts and ghosts can’t hurt me. They can scare me but they can’t touch me or hurt me.

Odd as it may seem I was greatly relieved. Now when I heard these strange men coming to see me I was not so scared. I would often just stare at them trying to figure out what a ghost looked like. And like the other times I would wake in the morning and not remember it right away but I was starting to remember these events.

It was the summer of 1961 or 1962 and after my chores around the house my mother always cut me loose on Saturday’s to have the rest of the day to myself. I think with six kids she wanted me out of the house and out of her way and I was all too happy to have the day to myself.

During the summer months I had got in the habit of riding my bicycle from our house in Morningside Maryland to downtown Washington DC. I liked museums and was always visiting the different Smithsonian museums in DC. The bicycle ride was eleven or twelve miles and it did not take me long to make the trip.

Back in those days no one locked up their bicycle and as always I just leaned my bike up against a tree once I got the museum I was going to visit for the day.

My mother had rules and she was strict about them. I had to be home by dark, and I could not get hurt but otherwise she allowed me freedoms that most parents would never allow their children.

One particular Saturday morning after leaning my bicycle up against a tree I walked over to cross the street and noticed everyone around me was looking up. I looked around me up and down the sidewalks, and across the street to find everyone with their heads back and their jaws dropped with mouth wide open. I wondered what the heck was going on with all these people so I looked up and OMG…..

I had never seen a flying machine like this in my life. It hardly moved at all. It was moving so slowly as to be hardly noticeable. It seemed to be just over top the tallest buildings around me. It was so close I could clearly see the row of round windows along the entire length of this cigar shaped craft. This flying machine made no sounds as it seemed to float along.

I do not know how many people were along the streets looking up as I was but there were many people who saw this floating craft.

I grew up on Air Force bases and spent a lot of time around the flight line watching planes as I had an interest in aircraft and flying. But I had never seen something like this, and this flying machine had no propellers and made no sound.

Once this flying machine got out of sight I forgot about the museum, jumped on my bike and rode home to tell my mother. I never forgot this flying cigar, this UFO. This was my first sighting, and little did I know at the time but there would many more in the future.

My next UFO sighting was in Vietnam, it was 1967 as Uncle Sam had seen fit to get me in the military and get me to a war zone.

I still had to wait 40 years before reality would reveal itself to me. I had to wait for December 21, 2007 to get the truth. On that day in December 2007 I would leave the herd. I never turned around to look back at the life I would be leaving behind. On December 21, 2007 my blinders were removed, my eyes were opened. And I have asked the same question to myself many times since that day, why me? What did I do to deserve this?

Bob Morrison

Artwork: courtesy http://nexusilluminati.blogspot.ca/2012/01/military-industrial-extraterrestrial.html

 

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