This blog has been created to inform the public about the UFO subject. It also contains peripheral phenomena. Created by Aileen Garoutte, previously Director of The UFO Contact Center International.

Saturday, September 03, 2005


By Bill Hamilton

I met Pamela in 1991. She had several encounters with alien life forms at her house near Rosamond, California at the base of the Tehachapi Mountains. She remembers having an encounter in June 1990 with a small cardboard-colored entity that resembled a Grey. This entity was wearing a form-fitting one-piece black suit. She was standing on the stairs of the summer deck arguing with this entity into the early hours of the morning. It was neither her first nor last encounter. I have detailed some of her experiences in Chapter 7.

I have had one or two encounters of my own. The most distinctive took place on May 8, 1981 in Arizona. I remember three little white-skinned beings appearing at the foot of my bed. I was in a hypnogogic state. When they departed suddenly, a pungent odor of ozone permeated the air of the bedroom.

I have been investigating abductions since 1976 and am familiar with many types of experiences with various entities. However, never did I dream that Pamela and I would experience missing time together.

I am well aware that abduction reports have generated a backlash from the public sector from authorities such as Carl Sagan and Dr. Robert Baker. They would like dismissing these encounters as hypnopompic hallucinations or some other reasonable psychological category in order to avoid dealing with the possibility of physical events that carry more profound implications. I am aware of the fact that witness exposure to UFO material tends to "contaminate" the individual's recounting of events and lessens the value of witness testimony. In that case, one may consider that my testimony is hyper contaminated by a background of 40 years researching this subject. On the other hand one might hold the consideration that I have had 40 years to observe, reflect, and evaluate UFO experiences. Bearing this all in mind, here is our story.


Pamela and I headed for Rachel, Nevada on Tuesday, March 16, 1993. After stopping in Las Vegas to pick up Ektar 1000 high-speed film for my camera from the Camera Center on Eastern, we headed north on highway 93, also known as the Great Basin Highway. I estimated our arrival at the Little Ale' Inn at around 6 p.m. We actually arrived at around 5:45 p.m.
While traveling on highway 93 we decided to snap pictures of some of the scenery to use up the slow speed film in my Chinon Zoom Cam. Some of the higher mountains around the Parahnagat Valley were capped with white blankets of snow. Yellow flowers were Spring blooming along the roadside. We were in a good mood.

We stopped at Mail Box Road near mile marker 29 on highway 375 to snap additional pictures. The surrounding mountains had already hidden the sun for the day. A little further up the road just before mile marker 26 I noticed a large dirt pull-out. I was determined to return to this pullout later in the evening. We arrived at the Little Ale'Inn and greeted Pat and Joe Travis. Pat recognized me instantly, and both of them were happy to see us since our last visit. Copies of my book, Cosmic Top Secret, were stacked on the shelf and offered for sale. I picked up a new book, Area 51 Viewing Guide, written by Glenn Campbell, an itinerant geographer who had settled in Rachel to study the strange stories of this region and map out the area. Later, we were introduced to Glenn, an affable young man. We were eager to swap information, but food was also a priority. We ordered dinner and talked. I also booked a room in a trailer for the night so we could take an early morning trip out to the viewing site and would not have to drive far to get some additional rest.

We placed our suitcases in the trailer and left Rachel sometime after 7:45 that evening and headed east on 375. I decided to travel no faster than 50 mph as this was open range and cows still wandered onto the road in the early evening. When we got to mile marker 17 up on Coyote summit at about 8:13, we spotted a security vehicle, a large green Bronco, parked off the other side of the road facing Rachel. Its amber front lights were on. We continued slowly until we reached mile marker 26. Passing this, I started to look for the dirt pull-out on the right and when I spotted it, pulled off the highway about fifteen to twenty feet with my truck facing the sky glow of Las Vegas due south.

I switched off the lights of my pickup truck and as soon as my eyes adjusted to the darkness that enveloped the Tikaboo Valley, I got out to look at the stars. Though it was partly cloudy, I could clearly make out the Big Dipper, Orion, Sirius, the Pleiades, and Arcturus. I could also see the craggy outlines of the Jumbled Hills and the Groom Mountains against the faint sky glow. It wasn't as cold as I expected and I only wore a pull-over sweater. As soon as I saw the lights of a vehicle appear coming down Coyote Summit, I got back in the truck. The first object I spotted in the sky was an aircraft with its positional lights and strobe blinking as it moved away from Groom Lake toward the southeast. Nothing exciting there. Pamela commented that the vehicle from the west was getting closer and she wanted to see if it was the security vehicle we had seen earlier at mile marker 17. We had first spotted its lights coming down from the summit at about 8:21.

When the vehicle passed us at 8:30, we were certain it was the same one we had seen on the summit. It was now heading east on 375. I was looking at my watch at 8:31 and asked Pamela how long she wanted to stay and sky watch since we wanted to return in the early morning hours to see "Old Faithful." Glenn had told us that he had thought that "Old Faithful" was just a 737 from Las Vegas McCarron airport that ferried in workers to Groom at the same time each morning, but we wanted to come out and see for ourselves if that was the case or whether it was something else.

We talked for about five minutes when we spotted a light about ten or fifteen degrees to the left of our heading. We both had 10X50 Bushnell binoculars. I looked at the light through my binoculars and saw a small round white light above a small round amber light. At this time, I speculated that we might be looking at a security vehicle that was anywhere from 3 to 6 miles from our position, but I could not think of a road that was located where this light was emanating. We talked for additional minutes. Pamela was relating this story about a healer who had come from Sedona, Arizona to find a man named "Jim" in Rachel. Jim was Pat Travis' grandson and he had been in an accident. We talked for another five or six minutes when we spotted another ground light to our right. I looked at it through binoculars and it seemed to be on or near the Groom Road and casting a beam on the ground. We decided that I should keep an eye on the light on the right while Pamela kept an eye on the original light which now appeared to be below our line of sight and was casting a fan-shaped glow into the air. We talked another three to five minutes when Pamela said, "Something is happening. Look back at the first light."

Events started happening fast. The first light appeared to be an object the size of a bus with square light panels lifting off from the ground! The panels appeared to glow amber and blue-white. The object was tilting to the right. Then the lights rapidly resolved into two glowing orbs or discs of brilliant blue-white light that steadily increased in brilliance. These lights became so bright they hurt my eyes and were still getting more brilliant with time. I had to put down my binoculars, but Pamela kept her binoculars trained on these baby suns as they started to move toward us. My heart started to palpitate and my adrenalin was rushing as this lighted object appeared to be on a collision course for my truck. These bright orbs were clearly flying over the desert. The lights did not bounce over the mounds of sand and sagebrush. I reached for my camera behind the seat and felt it snag so I diverted my eyes to free it. Pamela said that at this point the orbs transformed again into a ring of multi-colored lights that moved in a "digital" counter-clockwise revolution around what now appeared to be a disc. When I looked back and raised my camera to snap a picture of this oncoming object, it had again transformed into two or three bright orbs and was closing distance rapidly.

I remember saying that they were coming to get us and Pamela asking why I was so scared. I had to snap a picture fast so I snapped it before exiting the truck. The automatic flash went off with light bouncing against the windows, but I felt that the object's brightness could not fail to register on my Kodak Ektar 1000 film.

Then confusion reigned. As I finished snapping the picture and exiting the truck at the same time as Pamela, I had not removed my eyes from the orbs which now appeared east of us as automobile headlights traveling west on 375. That was clearly impossible! I had not seen these lights move from a south bearing to an east bearing and neither had Pamela. This car made a gentle whooshing sound as it passed by us, but made no motor sounds or tire sounds on the pavement. We watched its tail lights change in intensity as it whisked away toward Coyote Summit. This was no ordinary car. Pamela saw gold-speckled paint and white-walls on an older long American car. I glanced at my watch. It was 9:15. No way! It should have only been about 8:50 at the latest. What happened?

I was angry. I told Pamela that the vehicle we saw could not possibly be driving across the desert to our south, then appear abruptly as if coming from the east. And a ring of lights does not transform itself into a car in normal reality. We discussed this all the way back to the Little Ale'Inn. We went into the bar for a drink, talked with Pat for a few moments, then went to our trailer.

I tried to get to sleep around 11:30 that night. At 1:46 the next morning I awoke with a yelp. I had dreamed that a dark human-like form was examining me and had a hold of my left ankle. Pamela had already awakened asking how long we would be gone. She sometimes talks in her sleep, but this time it also had awakened her. I wanted to go back to the site even though it was a little too early for "Old Faithful." We eventually went back to mile marker 26 arriving by 3:30 the morning of March 17th (St. Patrick's Day). We slept for awhile, then my watch alarm awoke me at 4:30 to start looking at the southern sky for "Old Faithful." At precisely 4:50, we spotted it. It was a glowing amber-gold light without strobes, rotating beacons or other conventional aircraft lighting. It was in view for about five minutes and seemed to descend on Groom Lake. It did not appear to be a 737 or other conventional aircraft, but it did not execute any extraordinary aerodynamic maneuvers.


After more rest back at the trailer, we left Rachel around 12:30 in the afternoon and returned to Las Vegas to find a room. We checked in at a Super 8 Motel on Koval Lane and after dinner, I called John Lear. He seemed insistent that we come up to see him for awhile so we did. When we got there, we told him our story. He asked if he could regress me under hypnosis as he thought I looked a little stressed-out from the previous night's adventure.

John was only attempting to hypnotize me for thirty-five minutes to help relax me and decided not to tape-record the session. The session lasted one hour and thirty-five minutes and Pamela ended up taking twenty-four pages of notes. I recalled the period of disorientation we had in the incident and as it unfolded I saw the craft stop above us, brightly illuminating the ground, the truck, and us in its glare. Then I seemed to have ascended through the bottom of this craft and was met by a being walking out of the bright interior light. Actually, he had just stepped through a brilliantly-lighted interior wall of the craft.

This being was gray in color and about six feet tall. His eyes had what appeared to be black plastic shields slanting in insect fashion around his egg-shaped head. He had on a two-tone gray suit, lighter gray V in the front, and a black belt with a black tube on his right side. There was a triangular symbol (actually giving the impression of a tetrahedron) enclosing a helical coil on the left breast of the suit. His long arms ended in four long fingers. His face was a mask of non-expression, yet he communicated with me in blunt, concise phrases. I was concerned about Pamela, but he showed me her frozen form on the ground. Off to her left side was a small gray creature as if posted on station. I was confused. She was the abductee so why was he taking me inside this craft? He indicated it was my turn and I needed an adjustment and I would learn some things. He took one arm and escorted me gently inside a dome-like room that was evenly and brightly illuminated in all directions. In the center of this room was a tilting metal table which he placed me against. It tilted back about thirty degrees from the vertical. In front of me, projecting out from the curving wall, were what appeared to be a row of small computer screens. I knew that this table was a sophisticated sensor and was registering my thoughts, emotions, and physiology which were displayed on these screens. This being identified himself as Quaylar. Quaylar had replaced my leg at the ankle back onto the tilt table's surface at one point. This process lasted about five minutes. The telepathic or mind-sharing process allowed me access to a great deal of information that wasn't simply communicated. Quaylar returned me to the exit and I jump-floated to the ground about fifteen or twenty feet below. When I re-synched, I saw the phantom car lights. Was this a signal to my sub-conscious that something odd intervened in the missing-time period?

Another idea that impressed me strongly under hypnosis was that the missing-time or missing-memory state was caused by a phase shift in time. The time frequency in the field of this object was not in synch with our normal earth time frequency, giving us a conscious gap in memory.
I did not wait to follow scientific procedures and have Pamela and I hypnotized separately on different occasions though we did do this later. We tried to document all that we could. I took a daytime photo of the pull-out from the same truck angle as the night shot of the object to show the view from our angle of bearing and the desert scrub the object was traveling over.

When I hypnotized Pamela Thursday night, March 18, more details emerged. Pamela remembered being frozen outside of the craft and the little gray standing at her side. She also reports a painful buzzing in her left ear. Up to this point of separation, our description of events agrees completely except for the brief period of time when I went to snatch my camera from behind the seat. She then recalls a narrow, pencil-thin beam of blue-white light coming out of the bottom of the craft and striking her right eye just to the right of the pupil. And, indeed, there is a spot on the right side of the iris at the 9 o'clock position where the beam struck. She also remembers seeing two men observing her from a van on the highway. She actually states that the little Gray walked her away from the direction of the van to the other side of the truck to hide her from view. She also recalls details about the phantom car that we saw after the gap in time.

On Thursday, April 1, Pamela was regressed again by Hypnotherapist Yvonne Smith. This time Pamela remembered being taken aboard the white van she saw on the highway. The van had an antenna on the roof. Inside the van, two men, dressed entirely in black with black baseball caps on their heads, subjected her to intrusive procedures. They administered some drops in her right eye and placed an odd instrument into her left ear canal. She remembered seeing electronic instruments inside the van as well as automatic rifles. She also recalls that these men admonished her not to speak about her experiences. She did not see the little Gray during this period, nor does she remember exactly how she was placed back in position by our truck.

We had additional regression sessions with Leslie Freeman, a psychologist and hypnotherapist who works with our local MUFON group in L.A. Details of what came out of these sessions are too numerous to recount here.

I have had others report missing-time experiences in the Tikaboo Valley. My impression is that this has nothing to do with test flying discs from Area S-4. Something alien resides in this section of Nevada and has found an interest in visitors who come to watch the skies around Area 51.

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