Category Archives: Abduction Events

111: The Nordics

(From Pages 236 – 237 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

These are very human-looking people with blond hair and Hollywood-perfect body shapes. The men are muscular and the women well endowed. Travis Walton saw this type of ET while onboard the saucer that had taken him, after he was zapped with an energy beam that left him unconscious for a period of time. He appeared at a UFO convention that I attended with his friend Mike Rogers, who witnessed the zapping along with three other men, before they panicked and left in a big hurry. After they gathered their wits they returned to the area, but by that time both the craft and their friend Travis were gone.

Rogers is a respectable artist and presented slides of his artwork that depict what Walton described seeing on board the saucer. One painting was of two Nordics (also known as the Tall Blonds, a man and a woman, whom Walton encountered shortly before he was returned and left beside the highway (fully clothed, Walton made a point of saying). 30 I asked him if these beings really looked as “Hollywood perfect” as in Mr. Rogers’ painting. He confirmed that the man had an excellent physique and that the woman was quite shapely.

Descriptions of the Nordics by others who have encountered them are quite similar. To me their “perfect” body forms suggest cloning, in order to produce the same perfect result each time. As we know, standard mating and birthing procedures produce different-looking results. Your kids don’t look like the neighbor’s kids. Even within the same family unit, children will have different body types. Such small differences might be difficult for us to discern when looking at an Alien who looks very different from us, but the Nordics look very human indeed with no apparent imperfections. As an aside, I want to say that they also remind me uncomfortably of Hitler’s concept of the Aryan Supermen, blond and blue-eyed “perfect” specimens of the human form.


 30    The movie Fire in the Sky was loosely based upon Walton’s book, The Walton Experience. According to Walton everything depicted in the movie was essentially true, except what was shown on board the flying craft that abducted him. All of those horrific scenes were totally made up and something he regrets, even though he had no creative control once he gave up the movie right to his book. He was also fully clothed, and not naked as depicted in the movie, when he was left beside the highway five days after his Abduction.

88: The Flying Van

(From Pages 167 – 170 Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Yet another “dream” I had. I was standing with a group of people as we waited for something. Off in the distance was a pair of headlights. They were coming at us extremely fast and made a wide sweep in the form of an “S” as they approached, before the vehicle suddenly stopped in front of us. We were with some short people who seemed to supervise us as we got into the van. I took the position by the window, behind the driver’s seat. The seat in front of me was high-backed and the driver was in shadows so I couldn’t see him. When everyone was inside, the doors shut and we were on our way.

After a while, I looked out the window and saw the city’s lights shining in the night below us. “Oh,” I said, “We’re flying!” A split second after I said that, the scene outside my window changed. Suddenly we were driving on city streets. “Oh, I guess I was wrong,” I thought. ”We’re not flying.” I remember I was confused by the sudden change in scenery and then the “dream” ended.

It seems that someone who should have been monitoring me more closely wasn’t. I saw something I wasn’t supposed to. I got a peek behind the Wizard’s curtain. It was another incident that demonstrates that the ETs aren’t infallible.

Jim Keith, noted conspiracy theorist, postulated that most UFO Abductions are done by the elements of the CIA with the military, and disguised as ET Abductions to cover-up their mind control experiments on innocent civilians. Keith addressed the issue of “vans” piloted by ETs with a good helping of sarcasm. “It is perhaps a gauge of the quality of much UFO research that it is considered a serious possibility that these vans sometimes reported in conjunction with abductions and cattle mutilations (or alternately, the black helicopters that often show up around cattle mutilations) are disguised, shape-morphing extra-terrestrial craft. Strange, but if aliens are involved in all of this – and I have grave doubts that they are – instead of vans, wouldn’t the more commonly described Star Trek-like ‘teleporter beams’ as depicted in Fire From the Sky be more their speed, much more convenient, and less liable to be discovered? More to the point, when driving vans, would little gray aliens be able to see above the steering wheel?”17

Keith was a leading researcher in the field of secret government mind control programs and of the techniques developed by the CIA in that area. He was one of the first to discover that the military was simulating Alien Abductions, even using children dressed in rubber Gray costumes to construct the “screen memories” used to disguise the human nature of the event. Although he didn’t discount the possibility that some abductions might be engineered by real Aliens instead of humans, and even wrote about his own encounter with a typical looking gray, I believe he tended to vastly underestimate the number of such cases. Instead, because his focus was on human mind control instead of UFOs and their occupants, he believed the military was behind most if not all Alien Abductions.

If my dream of a flying van was a screen memory for an abduction event, which I believe it was, then I was most certainly taken by real ETs, as opposed to humans trying to fake an ET Abduction. If in this instance my abductors had been human and had been trying to convince me that they were ETs instead (as Jim Keith would have argued), but erred in showing me the wrong “view” outside my window, then the images I was shown would most certainly have been in reverse order. The mistake would have been to let me see that we were actually driving on city streets, instead of flying in a UFO, and the scene would have morphed into the intended aerial view after I discovered that our true altitude was closer to sea level. But that’s not the way it happened.

I’m fortunate in that I have three reasons to believe that at least some of my ET contacts are real, although I don’t doubt that some are military abductions disguised as ET Abductions. First of all, I saw two grays materialize in my bedroom on the night of June 11, 1994. (Kids in rubber suits can’t form out of thin air.) Secondly, I and one other person experienced missing time in bumper-to-bumper traffic, starting at one end of a very long tunnel and ending on the other side. (That can’t be faked.) And finally, there’s my ride in a flying van and the mix-up of the screen images that I saw out the window.
17 Jim Keith, Saucers of the Illuminati, Lilburn, GA: IllumiNet Press, 1999, pp. 18-19.

87: Insects in My Face

(From Page 166 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

I had another “dream” that wasn’t a dream where I was lying on my back on a table, with my hands at my side. I opened my eyes to see that insects of some kind were swarming around my groin and I watched them quietly without moving. One of them turned and flew up to my face. I brought my hands up from my side and put them in front of me, in an effort to protect myself from the flying insect.

A man for whom I felt great deference came out of the shadows and told me that I must keep my hands down and proceeded to “tuck me in” so that my arms were at my side and I couldn’t move them. I tried to explain to the man, whom I still couldn’t see very well because he was standing just behind the periphery of my vision, that I had only been trying to protect my face from a swarm of flying insects. I thought to myself that I hoped he understood that I wasn’t at fault, but I knew that whatever was happening was important and I endeavored to comply with his wishes and kept my hands down at my side. I remembered thinking to myself, as the dream ended, that I hoped I was strong enough not to panic if that flying bug were to buzz my face again.

{The grays are often seen as insects. It seems to be one of their favorite screen images, projections they put up to disguise themselves from humans. Owls are another common screen image that they use. – Chuck}

86: Missing Time in Bumper-to-Bumper Traffic

(From Pages 161 – 165 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

What I’m about to relate is utterly fantastic, but this incident, shared with one other person in 1997, illustrates how the ETs can manipulate time and space in ways that seem to us like magic.

It was the evening of September 7th and the three-day UFO convention that visited San Francisco every year was coming to an end. I had volunteered for several years running to staff the information booth at these events in exchange for a free ticket. I particularly enjoyed meeting and interacting with the people who would come up and ask for directions to the bathrooms, food court, or sales room. It was getting late, and people were beginning to leave in earnest when I saw that an attractive woman I had talked with earlier was visibly upset.

The light rail transportation system (BART) that services our megalopolis had gone on strike only hours before. Lisa (not her real name) was a vender from out of town, selling a book she had written and published, an encyclopedia of sorts of various alternative medicines and therapies. She was staying at the home of a friend of hers across the Bay and now she was marooned on the wrong side. Although I lived in the city, I told her that I would make the round trip across the bridge and take her to where she needed to go for a twenty-dollar bill. She agreed and left to telephone her friend for directions, while I closed down the information booth.

When she returned, she read from the notes she had taken. Our instructions were to proceed up Highway 580 and then take the exit for the Caldecott Tunnel, Highway 24. Our exit was the first one, just on the other side of the tunnel in the town of Orinda. I told her that I knew how to get us that far, but that she would have to direct me after that point. We put her things in the back seat of my car and set out for the Bay Bridge.

By the time we made the crossing, it was about nine o’clock. Although it was late, because of the strike the traffic was bumper to bumper as we began to approach the tunnel. Right before the tunnel comes into view there is a sign that reads, “Turn on your headlights.” I remember that I saw that sign and complied with its directive, but I never saw the tunnel.

Right after I turned on the headlights, my sight became very limited and I thought that I might be blacking out. I strained to keep my eyes open, terrified that I might crash the car in the middle of what seemed be a stroke. I could only see as far as the rear bumper of the car in front of me, and I focused all my attention on keeping it in sight and trying not to lose consciousness, but in a second or two my field of vision narrowed still further so that all I could see was the steering wheel in front of me! I felt for certain that we were going to crash at that moment, and then everything went black for a second or two.

My vision suddenly returned and instead of seeing the inside of the tunnel, I was looking at the highway ahead of me with a sign approaching, announcing that our exit was only a quarter of a mile away. I remember thinking that what I was seeing was impossible. I tried to reorient myself, take note of the exit coming up, and keep the car on the road, all the while absorbing the shock of what had just happened. It was a few seconds before I said out loud, “I don’t remember going through the tunnel.”

“Not unless it was a very short tunnel,” Lisa replied. (In fact, the Caldecott Tunnel is over a quarter of a mile long and very brightly lit.) She was a bit confused and didn’t know what to say. I didn’t either, especially since she was leaving for home the next day and that didn’t leave much time for us to talk. It was an awkward moment as we said good-bye to each other. I later wrote her a letter, having retrieved her address from a copy of her book that she had given me, but she never replied.

Considering the distances involved and the time we arrived at our destination, there could have been some missing time, but I couldn’t say for sure. I hadn’t looked at my watch for some time before the incident.

The enormity of what the ETs had done freaked me out. Although I had one other incident that seemed to suggest that the Grays could move back and forth in time, this was something far more powerful.16 Here we were in a stream of cars going the speed limit in a well-lighted approach to one of the longest tunnels in Northern California, when apparently all traffic in the area was stopped; our car was lifted up into the air, floated over the tunnel, deposited back onto the highway and time started back up again. It was as if the Grays had a remote control, like the ones for your DVD player at home, that could pause time itself. Their control unit must be powerful enough to extend the effect for some distance, though, because we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic when it happened.

I wonder if drivers at the periphery of the effect thought there was an accident up ahead, when everything stopped. What of the cars at that very edge of the effect, where drivers were “switched off,” but those behind them weren’t? What did those drivers see, perhaps an illusion of some kind? What would have happened if a helicopter had flown into the area? The mind boggles! The ETs could have taken Lisa and me separately, or together at some other less conspicuous location along the route we took from the Expo, but for some reason they wanted to give us both an elaborate demonstration of their powers.

{There is something that I need to report that I did not include in the published edition of my book. I’m extremely embarrassed to have to say that somehow I forgot to include this important little detail when I originally wrote about this incident. As I approached the tunnel the traffic was bumper-to-bumper, but when I regained consciousness on the other side, there was only one other car on the highway. I swear that to be true. – Chuck}
16 I woke up one night and looked up at my clock radio to see that the time was one hour before I had gone to bed. There was a shadowy presence standing beside my bed and I quickly fell back asleep, even as I pondered what seemed to be an impossibility.

52: Another Nosebleed & Little Sleep

(From Pages 107 – 108 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Saturday: September 17, 1994

I had another “easy” nosebleed. I blew my nose and the blood gushed out of my left nostril. It’s always the left one.

Katherine was with me last night and will be again tonight, as well. I know they come for us when we’re together. It saves them a trip.

Tuesday: September 27, 1994

Katherine called me this morning before she left for school to tell me that she woke up with blood on her pillow. I’ve asked her to tell me whenever she has a nosebleed. I’m sure that they are indications of a visit by our Gray escorts. Last night I got to bed about 4:30 A.M. and had to get up at 7:30. I woke up before the alarm went off and was surprisingly alert all day for having had so little sleep. This too, I believe is a good indication that they’ve been here. At 47 I can’t operate effectively for long periods of time without a good night’s rest, which I rarely get anymore. I tried recently and just about died from exhaustion at the end of the day.

They came for both of us last night, I’m sure. In fact, I believe they pick me up first so that I can help Katherine to remain calm throughout her ordeal. For that at least, I am grateful.

Thursday: October 13, 1994

I only got four hours of sleep last night, but again it feels like I slept a full eight, which I haven’t done for many months now. That’s not normal for a person my age. I haven’t been able to function without a good night’s rest since my college days.

Oh yes, I had another nosebleed this morning. As Cyrano de Bergerac said about his nose in that famous play by Edmond Rostand, “When it bleeds, the Red Sea!”7
7 In the movie, Jose Ferrer was Cyrano de Bergerac, the best swordsman in 17-century France with a large nose, of which no one dared make fun.

45: A “Compassionate” Healing

(From Pages 96 – 98 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Friday: July 29, 1994

I went to bed at about 2:30 A.M., drunk and depressed. After training, without pay, for the last five weeks as a poker dealer for a local gambling establishment, I found out yesterday that the job offer has suddenly evaporated. No explanations. They’re just not hiring. I could have a job by now if I had been looking for one all this time.

I don’t take to alcohol very well. After the pleasant effects wear off, I always pay for it with a bad hangover. I get a good buzz with one beer, become drunk with two and find myself under the table after four or five, but I wanted to get as numb as quickly as possible last night so I threw caution to the wind and raced through a six-pack.

I woke up about 4:30 this morning with a bad case of nausea, a common consequence of this particular manifestation of my stupidity and one that I had expected. After a few minutes I felt that familiar pressure at the base of my spine and the nausea suddenly faded away. I felt very sleepy right afterwards and, although I wanted to stay awake to note any further effects, I couldn’t and quickly fell asleep again.

Although I’ve been unemployed now for quite some time, and have just lost my best opportunity to change that situation, I awoke this morning feeling rested and strangely confident about the future. Usually when I’m as depressed as I was, it takes several days for me to pull out of it. I think my little friends came last night. If so, then this is the third time that they’ve helped me when they didn’t have to, and it makes me think that they might really be concerned about me as a person. I’ve often wondered if their interventions weren’t more about keeping the lab rat healthy enough to run the maze, but this time they helped me emotionally, not just physically, when they eased my depression in addition to my nausea. They didn’t have to. They felt bad that I felt bad. That’s called compassion.

44: The “French – Kissing” Dream

(From Pages 94 – 96 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Wednesday: July 27, 1994

And the dreams have been coming hot and heavy lately, too. I had another one last night, and I think that this one might be a disguise for something that really happened.

I entered a room filled with paintings on the walls. There were a few other people milling about and it seemed that I was at an art exhibit of some kind. The artist was there. She was an attractive woman with an hourglass figure who seemed to take an immediate interest in me. She showed me around and asked me if I liked her artwork. It all seemed to have a Sword and Sorcery theme. I politely complemented her, although I remember thinking that that type of thing didn’t really interest me much.

The other people in the room walked out and we were left alone together. She started to come on to me and began to get aggressive, taking me into her arms and French-kissing me. I liked the attention and the obvious suggestion of impending sex, but I didn’t like, nor have I ever really enjoyed, the sensation of someone’s tongue in my mouth. I wanted to let her know of my discomfort without destroying my chances of making it with her, so I decided to make light of it all by trying to uphold the conversation while she continued to try and French-kiss me.

She tried several times to stick her tongue into my mouth while I tried to talk through it all. On her last try I suddenly felt immobilized. She then came down on my mouth from above and stuck her tongue deep into my throat. I remember being surprised by this maneuver because, to be able to place her head above mine, she had either to be standing on something or to have suddenly grown much taller. No one has ever French-kissed me so deeply, and I don’t think any normal person could. Her tongue literally felt as if it went halfway down my throat. It was at this point that the dream ended.

I can see in the mirror that my throat is red today, although it doesn’t hurt. It feels like something is caught deep down inside, and I’ve been trying to clear it all morning. If they wanted a throat culture, what an interesting way to go about getting it.

41: My Daughter’s Nightmares

(From Pages 91 – 93 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Wednesday: June 22, 1994

I spent the evening with Katherine tonight and we talked about dreams. She described a couple of dreams that she had, which she said were “so real” to her.

The first one she said she has had at least twice. In it, she sees her bedroom (the one she never sleeps in) with “spikes” (her word) coming out of the walls and up through the floor. I walk into the room and the spikes disappear. When I leave, they return.

The other dream, which she said she had a month or two ago, starts out with one of her favorite TV characters from the show Get Smart. Maxwell Smart is stabbed in the stomach with a spike. Here the dream suddenly changes and Katherine finds that it is she who has been stabbed with the spike. Katherine said that when she woke up from this dream she had a bad stomach ache.

I’ve held one thought close to me all these months, as I’ve tried to regain my emotional balance in the wake of all this. I don’t much care what happens to me. I’m pretty good at adjusting to unexpected situations. It’s my daughter whom I’ve always been concerned about. I’ve hoped that as long as I’m a part of whatever this is, then perhaps I could help Katherine in some way. I remember even mentally asking them one time to take me first, whenever they go for Katherine. My hope was that it would make it easier for her when they did. If the first dream is related to her abductions, as I believe it to be, then it may indicate that I was somewhat successful in that regard.

Whatever the symbolism means, spikes coming out of the walls and up through the floor can’t be good. However, they go away when I enter the room. Children trust in the ability of their parents to protect them, whether or not they really can. I may not be able to stop what they’re doing to either of us, but if my presence can help make it better for Katherine then I’m willing to endure whatever they want to do to me, as long as they take us together.

As for the second dream, I’ve heard of the Grays inserting needles into the abdomen of the women they take, supposedly as part of a pregnancy test, as they evidently did with Betty Hill. But Katherine is obviously not of childbearing age. Could they be collecting some of her immature eggs for some reason?

39: I Saw Them!!!

(From Pages 85 – 86 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Saturday: June 11, 1994

I saw them! Last night I saw them come into my room. This is incredible! I want to describe everything exactly as it happened.

I lay in my bed wide awake and lost in my thoughts, looking out the window of my studio apartment to the whitewashed building next door, illuminated by a nearby street lamp. The last time I looked at my clock radio, it was 3:30 A.M. About ten minutes later, I noticed something in front of my window.

The image appeared at first as a slight darkening or shadow, and was transparent in that I could see through it and through my window to the building outside. All I could make out was a vague outline of something, but it seemed to slowly become more solid and take on recognizable features. I had the feeling that there was another “something” forming to the right, at the very edge of my peripheral vision, but I purposely kept all my attention riveted on the image in front of me.

I strained to focus my eyes more clearly because I wasn’t sure at first if it was real or just a trick of light and shadow. As it began to slowly take form, I could see that it was about three and a half to four feet tall, with a big head and two huge, very black eyes.
“Is this what I think it is?” I thought to myself. I slowly closed my eyes, counted to five and opened them again. It was still there, more sharply defined than even a few seconds before, and looking straight at me.

My heart leaped into my throat and raced wildly. I tried to spring from my bed, but only got as far as getting up onto my right elbow before I became totally paralyzed. I tried again to lunge forward without success, frozen to the spot. After the second attempt failed, I felt my eyes close as I started to rapidly lose consciousness. It felt like I was falling down into a black hole, but at the last moment I summoned all my strength of will and screamed in my head, “No, God damn it!” That burst of defiance somehow released me from my invisible restraints and I opened my eyes. They were gone. The clock read 3:43 A.M.

Even I would doubt what my own eyes have seen, if it weren’t for the physical sensations that I experienced. Now I know that a person can become agitated thinking that he had seen something that really wasn’t there, but to suddenly become paralyzed and to start to “fall asleep” in the middle of a panic attack, is highly unlikely to say the least. I did see them!

They started to materialize, literally forming out of thin air, but had to abort their mission. This shows me that they aren’t infallible. They can make mistakes. I had been lying quite still for twenty minutes or so and was staring out the window, lost in thought, before they started to form in front of me. They must have thought that I was asleep.

They say, “Seeing is believing.” For the past several months I’ve felt that these visits are real events, and not just the creation of an overactive imagination (or worse, the delusions of someone with mental problems). But now that I’ve actually seen them, I’m stunned. I’ve been given the best conformation that I could have ever hoped for. I actually saw them! My God, this is incredible.

36: My Second Spontaneous Healing

(From Pages 83 – 84 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Tuesday: June 7, 1994

I’ve evidently had a second spontaneous healing a couple of nights ago. For the past few months I’ve had a bad case of tendonitis in the middle finger of my left hand, with the pain most acute in the morning after waking up from hours of inactivity. As the day would wear on the pain would lessen somewhat, but never to any great extent.

A few days ago I was just sick and tired of the constant pain and, remembering the “exercise healing” of February 21st, I wished out loud that “they” would repeat their medical miracle. In fact, I demanded it. “You owe me!” I told them. Apparently they heard and responded.

For the past two days I’ve had no pain in that finger and can use it as if nothing was ever wrong, although it now bends with a snap as if it’s “double-jointed.” It appears they had to shorten the tendon in that area. Those little guys can actually be useful!

They were here last night as well. I just discovered that one of the scabs at the base of my neck has returned, although this time it’s about two inches below where the previous scabs had formed. I give myself a thorough inspection every night and it wasn’t there when I went to bed.

The lump that I’ve had at the base of my neck since at least mid-January has disappeared as well. Both sides of my spine in that area are now symmetrical. Was that an implant, which they have now removed for some reason? Were the scabs, which formed off and on in that area, incisions in the skin to service the implant? I don’t know, and I don’t know if I ever will know. That’s one of the frustrating things about all of this. Will I ever find out what’s happening?

34: My First “Nighttime” Sunburn

(From Pages 78 – 79 of Abducted by Aliens, by Chuck Weiss)

Saturday: May 21, 1994

I got to bed at about one in the morning and tried the post-hypnotic suggestion that Mr. Ault gave me yesterday to help me sleep. As I counted backward from a hundred, I could feel my body sink like a stone, but I don’t remember sleeping. In fact I remember seeing the clock every forty-five minutes or so, as I turned over in bed.

At 3:36 A.M., I felt a definite pressure against my lower back at the tailbone for a prolonged period of time, perhaps a full minute or so. This was much like what I felt during my spontaneous healing, but of a much longer duration. I took note again of the time, 4:15 A.M., when I got up a little while ago and was surprised to find that I was very much awake, in spite of having so little sleep. I have the feeling that “they” have been here.

5:00 P.M.:

I haven’t shaved today. I usually don’t bother on weekends unless I go somewhere, but all day long my face has been hurting. I finally looked into the bathroom mirror. I have a sunburn!

I haven’t been outside of the house today and I was either in my car or inside a building all day yesterday. I also inspect myself in the bathroom mirror each night before retiring. There is no possible way that I could have gone to bed last night with my face badly sunburned, yet my face is very red. How does one get a sunburn indoors at night?

31: Someone Else Heard My Daughter Screaming

(From Pages 73 – 75 of Abducted by Aliens, By Chuck Weiss)

Monday: May 16, 1994

This afternoon I visited Katherine after school. I’m able to do this on weekdays because I’m currently unemployed. Until recently I’ve spent Wednesday and Thursday afternoons with her, but that was when she had softball practice. Now that the season’s schedule has begun, I’m trying to time my visits to coincide with her games, one of which was today.

I arrived an hour earlier than Katherine had evidently expected. She had gone to a friend’s house after school, so I had some time to spend with Dorothy before Katherine came home.

As I mentioned earlier in this journal, Dorothy is a fourteen-year-old girl who lives with Margaret, Katherine and her mother, Maria. Maria has been Katherine’s live-in nanny since Katie was a year old. After that first year with us, we let Maria send for her two children, Dorothy and Oscar, both of whom had been living with their aunt in Southern California. Margaret and I immediately accepted them as family, and Katherine was thrilled to have an older “brother” and “sister.”

After discussing school, rap groups and other teenage subjects, our conversation turned to the sleeping arrangements in that household. Margaret has promised Dorothy that she will convert her office into a bedroom for her. Dorothy wanted to know if I believed that it would really happen. I reassured her that it would and used the opportunity to ask her about something that has puzzled me for some time.

About a year and a half ago Dorothy and Katherine shared the same bedroom until, for some reason, they both abruptly refused to sleep there any longer. Katherine said that she was afraid of “monsters and bad men.” Dorothy never did say why she abandoned that room. She could have had it all to herself, as she now hopes to have Margaret’s office, but she preferred instead to go back and sleep with her mother in her room. That wasn’t natural behavior for a teenager so I asked her about it.

At first she was hesitant to say anything. I told her that I thought I knew why, but just wanted her to confirm my suspicions.

“Is it because you were afraid of that room for some reason,” I asked, “or is it because you just didn’t want to sleep with Katherine anymore?”

“No! I love Katie,” she insisted.

“Well then, why?” I asked again. “Is it because you’re afraid of that room?”

She nodded and, after a long silence said, “I had a dream where I heard someone screaming, but I don’t think it was a dream. I think it was real.” She looked at me like she knew that what she had just said didn’t make sense.

I reassured her that it indeed made perfect sense and that I fully understood her anxiety. I asked if she had ever felt like that about any other room in the house. Did she ever feel afraid to sleep in her mother’s room, for example? She answered “no” to both questions and begged me to tell her what I knew.

I told her that I really couldn’t go into details, but that it wasn’t likely to happen again. Although she would have liked a better answer, she sensed that she wouldn’t get one and let the matter drop. I had that same “dream” years ago (post #15), and now I find that Dorothy has had it, too. Another piece of the puzzle has been added and, although the picture that is forming is the one that I expected, it is unnerving nonetheless.

20: Having Sex, Without the Memory of It

(From Page 49 of Abducted by Aliens, by Chuck Weiss)

Tuesday: April 19, 1994

I lay down to take a nap this afternoon. After a while I was able to doze off, but I woke up fully alert when I heard the faint, but very distinct, single ring of a telephone. It never sounds like my bedroom phone. The tone is always a little different.

I opened my eyes and took note of the time, 4:52 P.M. I immediately became very sleepy. I couldn’t keep my eyes open, although I had been wide awake just a few moments before. I barely had but a few seconds with which to notice the sudden change in my mental alertness before falling into a deep sleep. I awoke again at 6:13 P.M., feeling very refreshed.

I almost hesitate to report this. Although I was tired and needed a nap, when I laid down I was feeling rather sexy and fell asleep snuggling up to my pillows. They felt good against my skin and gave me a warm sensual feeling, letting me relax into sleep. Later as I was getting dressed, I noticed that my penis was shrunken and shriveled. I touched myself and found that it was moist and smelled of semen, but I couldn’t find any evidence of a “wet dream” in my bedding.

I’ve heard that men who are abducted are often milked of their sperm or given the chance to mate in the traditional way. If I’m going to make it with someone, however, I’d like to remember the experience!

19: Father and Daughter, Taken Together

(From Pages 45 – 48 of Abducted by Aliens, by Chuck Weiss)

Sunday: April 17, 1994

Katherine always used to sleep with a light on. For years she insisted that her bedroom’s overhead light be left on each night when she went to bed. We finally got her to accept a bright table lamb instead, but now she wants total darkness whenever she sleeps. I’ve begun sleeping with a nightlight myself, but last night Katherine asked me to disconnect it whenever she sleeps over. “You can see everything with it on,” she complained, looking slowly around the room to suggest that there were things hidden in the dark that she’d rather not see.

Last night was uneasy for us both. I felt that with Katherine and me sleeping in the same house, an abduction was likely. I purposely didn’t take my sleep medication because I wanted to be alert enough to hear any audio signal. They’re much fainter now, compared to those I first noticed in mid-January, although they’re instantly recognizable due to their unusual sharpness and clarity. I think it’s because the sound originates deep within my own mind, instead of coming through my over-waxed ear canals.

Without my sleeping pill, my normal anxiety acted to keep me awake. We went to bed at 12:30 in the morning. I remained alert while Katherine fell asleep. She kept tossing and turning, though, and twice suddenly sat straight up in bed to look around her. Both times I reassured her that everything was all right, and she lay back down again to instantly resume her troubled sleep.

I was fully alert until about 2:30 A.M. At that time, I suddenly realized that I was fighting to stay awake. I sat on the edge of the bed for a while and then forced myself to get up and go into the living room. I felt that “they” were there, lurking just around the corners. I should have had an anxiety attack at such a thought. Instead I was fighting hard to keep my eyes open. My eyes would slowly close, and I would have to remind myself that I had to stay awake for Katherine’s sake. It was that thought alone that gave me the strength to open them just long enough to look around the room again, but it was a losing battle. I was falling asleep and nothing that I could do was going to prevent it. I think it was after four o’clock when I finally went back to bed. I wanted at least to lose consciousness while lying next to my daughter, instead of in a chair in the next room.

It was shortly after sunrise when I woke up. Katherine was sleeping much more soundly at that point, so I got up and made some coffee, letting her sleep the sleep of the dead until she finally got out of bed at about one in the afternoon.

I asked her how she had slept, and if she had had any bad dreams, since she had tossed and turned so much. She didn’t remember any dreams, but admitted to not sleeping well at night in general. She said that she is the most rested on weekends, when she can sleep as late as she likes. Her mother has long complained to me that she sleeps so late on Saturday and Sunday afternoons that she doesn’t play outside as much as she should.

I asked Katherine if she knew when her problem of not sleeping well at night began. She gave it a moment of careful thought and said, “After I moved back to my room.” After sleeping with her mother for over a year, she told me last week that she had moved back into her room. Katherine’s sleeping problems go back several years, so I believe that she was thinking of her most recent wave of nighttime anxiety attacks when she answered my question.

This afternoon, Katherine and I took a walk to a nearby park. Along the way, we stopped at a driveway and silently watched a small whirlwind gather up oak leaves into a circular pile. We both stared hypnotically at the moving circle of leaves for a good minute or so, and as we turned away to cross the street, Katherine said in a small voice, “Little people and insects.” I could hardly believe my ears, because the visitors are often described as “insects” or “insect-like.”

“Did you say, ‘little people and insects’?” I asked.

“Uh huh.”

“What about them?”

“The leaves looked like little people and insects,” she replied.

Margaret has been complaining to me that Katherine is already acting like a teenager, complete with periods of depression and outbursts of anger. She also suffers from the same nighttime anxiety attacks and disrupted sleep patterns as I do. As far as I know, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder isn’t hereditary, but my little girl is displaying all the symptoms nonetheless.

Trolls . . . little people . . . and insects.

15: Remembering My Daughter’s First Abduction

(From Pages 38 – 39 of Abducted by Aliens, by Chuck Weiss)

Wednesday: April 13, 1994

Tonight I was rereading the description of my “vacation” dream. The part where the “madman” confronts me and somersaults off the edge of the roof struck a chord somewhere deep down inside. His angry leap off the rooftop reminded me of another dream I had years ago, when Katherine was perhaps three or four years old.

In that dream I heard someone screaming. It was a very loud series of screams, very insistent and very long in duration. I searched and searched in vain for its source. There was nothing but blackness, nothing at all but pitch black and the sound of that screaming.

The screams grew louder and louder, filling my head almost to bursting. I tried to wake up, but couldn’t. Finally I saw a window and there, on the ledge, was a little girl. It was the girl who was screaming, and for some reason she was very angry with me. Her screams were so loud that I had to cover my ears, but it just wouldn’t stop. I finally shouted, “Okay! Jump! Jump!” and she leaped off the ledge. The screaming stopped and I relaxed.

Now, as I remember the dream, what stands out is the intensity of the scream. I couldn’t find where it was coming from and there wasn’t anywhere I could go to get away from it. It was so real. I hear it now, as I write this. I was in a panic. I know that I tried to wake up, but the dream wouldn’t end. The screaming wouldn’t stop.

It sounded unrelenting, in that it was a series of screams, one with each breath. It was that unrelenting quality that reminded me of a temper tantrum, and I think that’s why I associated it with an angry child in the dream. But now I know that scream belonged to my Katie, a terrified little girl who couldn’t understand why Mommy and Daddy didn’t come to her rescue. I’m sure that this must have been one of Katherine’s first visits. This explanation feels so right deep down inside that it must be true.

I’m so sorry, Katie. Please forgive me.

{A few months later, I learned that Dorothy also dreamt she heard someone screaming in Katherine’s bedroom (Post #31). – Chuck}

10: Memory of Missing Time

(From Pages 22 – 25 of Abducted by Aliens, by Chuck Weiss)

Monday: April 4, 1994

Last night I had a memory of something that happened a long time ago in childhood. It was triggered by something I read over the weekend in Communion. I still haven’t completed the book. I have about a third of it left to finish. It’s not that long, but for some reason I’m hesitant to continue reading it, even though each chapter seem to confirm my own experiences. It’s like I don’t want to know, but I need to know.

Under hypnosis, Strieber described an encounter with “The Visitors,” as he calls them, when he was about twelve years old. He and his sister were playing in an empty lot close to home when something approached them. Afterwards, his sister told their parents that there was a “fireball” in the lot and that’s why they ran home.

Lying in bed last night, I suddenly remembered an incident that happened when I was a young boy at my grandparents’ home in Oklahoma. I heard Happy shout 1, “A fireball just landed in the driveway! A fireball just landed in the driveway!” I think that I was in the big bedroom at the time, where I didn’t have a direct view of the driveway, but I can’t be sure. I also have some kind of memory of being in the living room, trying to get at the curtains to look out the window, which did face directly onto the driveway.

At any rate, I have a distinct memory of my grandmother’s voice becoming more and more agitated. “There is someone at the door,” she shouted. “They’re coming through the door!” My mother and grandfather tried to calm her saying, “See? There’s no one at the door, Happy. There’s nothing in the driveway.”

“I saw a fireball in the driveway,” she insisted. I think it was my mother who, trying to make sense of it all, suggested that the driveway might have been struck by lightning, which could have then formed a fireball of electricity. Almost as soon as it was suggested, this explanation was discarded because no one had heard a thunderclap, which would have certainly followed any lightning strike so close to the house. I have no memory of it raining either, for that matter. I think it was a sunny afternoon, in fact. Mother also reasoned that lightning would have scorched the driveway, although I don’t recall anyone leaving the house to inspect the area. I did so, but only after I got home from school the next day. I remember that I inspected the driveway carefully, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

I haven’t thought about this incident since it happened. When that was, I don’t remember exactly. I think it was shortly after my parents separated, when Mother and I left Father in California to live with my grandparents in Oklahoma. I called Mother tonight and asked if she remembered any such incident.

I was hoping for an independent confirmation, but she doesn’t remember anything. She asked if maybe I was confusing her with Nancy, Happy’s best friend, who often came to visit. But if that were true, I would have certainly been playing with one of Nancy’s daughters, either Felicia, who is my age, or Tina, who is two years older. They always accompanied their mother when she came to visit and we enjoyed the time playing together, but I have no memory of them being there during the incident.

I can’t talk with Happy because she died many years ago, in 1974. Billy, my grandfather, is in his mid-eighties and still lives in Oklahoma. I’ll call him soon, but I don’t hold out much hope that he’ll remember anything. His memory is failing. If she can’t remember this incident, I’ll bet that Billy has forgotten it too. I wish Happy were alive. She would remember.

I’ve got to say that I’m filled with a profound sense of relief. This must be what is called a “missing time episode.” Even though Mother is unable to confirm the incident, I am now positive that it happened as I have described it in its major details. The memory of my grandmother becoming more and more excited about a “fireball in the driveway” and something about people at the front door is very real in my mind now. The speculation about a lightning strike, and the reasons for dismissing that explanation, are just as vivid a memory.

I know that this happened, and it doesn’t matter if I can prove it or not, because now I know that I’m not having a nervous breakdown. That has been a very real concern of mine during the last month and a half. I thought that maybe I had become hysterical, taking a “molehill” of little things that might be easily explained and making out of it a “mountain” big enough to bury me. But now I know that is not the case. Something did happen those many years ago and it’s probably been happening to me, off and on, ever since.
1 Everyone called my grandmother “Happy.” The nickname was given to her early in her life by her friends and it suited her well.