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Above Top Secret

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posted on Sep, 8 2011 @ 12:57 PM
After I became a teen girl, all I knew for sure, was the -one- thing I wanted from life. A close boyfriend who I would eventually marry, of course. It would never be.

Way far back in those daze, of rockin a Doobie Brothers 8-track in your Chevy Vega, my deficit in social intelligence was only known as,"shy" by those who were meaning to be nice, and for the rest who didn't care, "wrong" with.

Speaking of wrong with, (for that era), the ufo phenomenon became a big part of my life in my late teens-to-early '20's, when me and a friend were experiencing sightings during a "flap wave" in that Northern region. My friend had more "issues" than me, though, and so all of that off-ness combined, incurred us disapproval. Way.

Luckily, an escape hatch! (That I knew of, then.)

In a Cold War era mid sized middle-America town, new restless adults aware of the surrounding economic stagnation, like old rusting steel, (and personal stagnation/prospects as well) pondered those beckoning glass entryways, to the somewhat unassuming -yet- intriguing, recruitment offices, of the US Military.

When I was still 20 and a civillian at home, there was this one perfect bright sunny afternoon. Was sitting on a child's swing in the backyard of the family home, taking in a good hard long look around. Making sure to remember. I had been to the Air Force recruiter's office recently, and agreed to enlistment.

At a certain date in the future, a large dark blue passenger US Government van, containing other enlisted civillians, a couple recognize from school, would arrive to the family home and whisk me off to a life initiation that would birth you into how things ARE.

Up to until then, I was having trouble fully sleeping, in the comforting place of, though, childhood's end. Kept having these bad dreams. Was in a fighter jet flying over a large desert region. All of a sudden, things were going wrong, and a nosedive occurred, straight downward, impacting into a violent fireball and explosion. "It makes no sense."

Basic Training and Technical School, were those times (and people) in your life, you could never forget, even when you turn 98 years old, if you are lucky enough. I liken it to some people's wild times in college, but, for those who came from blue collar 'class', and no trust fund, nor academic notability. Finally, the momentous goal, from those previous efforts, and they were a supreme struggle, indeed. Her first regular base assignment, as a regular Airman.

In "Tech School", prior to that, I was learning the job for that first regular base. Typing and typing and typing practice, on these, what looked like manuel typewriters, only long paper tapes of punched holed codes would go through them. Doodled during the boring verbal instruction, and wondered which boys would come by the ladies' dorm areas that night, and what form of drama would -reliably- ensue.

Fast forward.

I saw, that co workers were getting apartments off-base in this high-desert legendary city of gambling and twenty-four seven civillian tourism activity and lights lights lights. Which were marveled at, from the descending airliner, coming in from a faraway, gone, coddled, routine. I got an apartment too, about a mile South of the base. But with the work schedule 'round-the-clock, got assigned the midnight to morning shift. Had never worked a shift like that, and disasterously, was having trouble awakening from sleep for it, and there was this dark negative effect on the personality, emotions and attitude. Contributing to this, was a cold atmosphere like social Darwinism, a -shock- from the 'We're all in this together all the time' required lifestyle, of the previous environment.

I began experiencing the nightmarish crazy dreaming again, just like way back at Mom's.
In this city, there is a bus that comes about once an hour , from town, to the front gate of the base. In the dreams, I am on it. Late at night, and there are a sparse few other civillians on it, as well. Creepy quiet, everyone sitting still and well behaved, on a 'Final Destination'. Suddenly, up ahead, located directly in front of the base's main gate, appearing out of the darkness within the headlights of the bus, is this enormous red brick wall. The bus not slowing down, instead, proceeding full speed. I see the beginning of the impact, then wake up.

My workcenter permeated this gloom. Such a weird place. It had this great black walk in vault, like a bank vault. One time, I was charged with a quick task in there. Nothing enthralling nor enlightening. And the glass boxes on the walls containing Firemens' axes. In case we were overrun by enemies, we were to sieze those, and wreck our equipment. I'll bet everyone thought, "We'll tell the Authorities -afterward-, that we feared encroachement.

There were stacks and stacks of message traffic which had to be relayed out and in. And rubber stamped with classifications. You had 'The Fear Of God' so-to-speak, to not sit there and study any texts. They were none of our business. But sometimes, I saw 'ufob', but then I thought, "nawwwww." "It must mean something else!"

Imagine that you are in a roller coaster, which is slowly chugging along, upward, upward, and there is the top of the pinnacle looming and nearing. Only you are blindfolded, so you don't know that.

edit on 8-9-2011 by simone50m because: edit

posted on Sep, 8 2011 @ 01:40 PM

edit on 8-9-2011 by simone50m because: Oops! Never mind!

posted on Sep, 11 2011 @ 11:19 PM
Before I resume from previous: ATS, this forum board, has two places you can choose for your 'story'. I chose this one, because in the other one, it said, it was for fiction.

There were other reasons, besides the one disclosed already, as to why you would find yourself thinking, and in my case, speaking, about ufos, in our black (as it pertains to the classified world) workplace.

Annnnd -misfortune-ately I got to "speaking" to a fellow Airman co-worker with a happily volunteered personal story of a great orange orb he saw back home. Because guess what? I saw things like that. Too. (And much more).

If you recall the 1970's-era high profile criminal case of the two civillian friends, and one was put to work in a place just like mine. His was located in TRW. A movie was made about it, and a couple of books. Well, he Disclosed about, how um, flawed, his fellow employees were, considering that kind of level of clearanced occupation.

So, Anyhoo..........One day, my fellow Airhead, stole ("borrowed") a carbon copy telex (thats part of a teletyped message which printed up out of the AUTODIN 'computer') to show it to me, at my home, during my off time, and his exit from his shift. It was about ufos.

My action/decision next, would inflict people's very cold hearted condescending and impatient ire at me, a few decades later, when they learned of my whole story.
People doing -serious- involvement with the pursuit of that phenomenon's mystery,
--tend-- ...... to be oblivious to the -human- element of the non-human element. Picture a guy shaking someone he's holding upside down, to see what falls out. What falls out, if it is a sought thing, is what is most important, and then, an impacted -soul- can go take his rightfull place back at the back of the proverbial bus. Would my 'thinking' be the same then, with my mind of now? Absolutely NOT. Would yours? Oh really?
So in advance: You won't like this (then) youngster's choice, and if not, go take a flying (no not saucer,) leap.

Back To The Past. I did not fully understand the gravity of my situation-s- . Sorry. So I insisted on keeping this little piece of 'show-and-tell', which my 'friend' insured me, would probably not be missed, since it was a copy slated for destruction. You who are more knowledgeable on these matters will say, "Thats not possible, there are tight controls on that process" which is true. But when a new little brain goes into denial, ANYTHING is possible! Ha! Woowoo......(Especially when a woman goes into denial. About whatever. Don't believe me? Ever listen to the Dr. Laura Schlessinger radio shows?)

So, let me just say that, a long story of intrigues and dramas, occurred in between this next mill stone. Er, uh, I mean, milestone. To bring it about. I'm not writing a book here, by-the-way, it's 'Short Stories' remember, so the "long story"(s) which I edit out, are for some other more liberal venue. Trying to maintain the gist.

I was summoned to be confronted by a handfull of government Agents, both civillian and military. To sit down in a little windowless room and have long chats about the telex.

I will tell you about it. It bore a highest classification 'with code', and dryly described the fantastical. A group of ufos was detected by our 'deep space' surveillance technology, coming into the earth, and deliberately making trajectory for the airspace of my country's most formidable foe. Some special snooping aircraft of ours, was on their tails, as far as they could push that envelope, into international treaty violation. The group of bogeys settled hovering in an area by their populated center, for not a short time.

For the next -nearly- seven months of my jeapordized life, I was figuratively shaken upside down, to see what -suspected- thing would fall out. Besides an unauthorized ufo message. which they now gladly possessed.

There sure has been a whole lot of shakin goin on!

But wait. There's more.
edit on 11-9-2011 by simone50m because: edit

posted on Sep, 12 2011 @ 01:08 AM
Part Three.

During my (aforementioned) "shakings" (so-to-speak) by the government Agents, well, there were those hospital episodes. My memories on these are choppy. I guess it must have been my trauma associated with that stuff. I --vaguely-- recall this. Post a government interrogation session (oh there were a number) I felt extremely afraid and depressed at the same time. Some authority mentioned to me, "the death penalty" for military spies. I was shooting my mouth off about how I was going to committ suicide. As a result, I was put into the hospital on base. Then there was a further incident. Post a government interrogation --polygraph-- session (oh there were a number) I went 'home' and actually made good on what before, was only a threat. It was an attempt.....obviously.
Back to that hospital again! A nurse would come in and give me white pills, I was to take them, and she said they were to help me sleep. I can't remember how long I stayed in that situation!

So here I am, where this trouble is coming to an end. I was summoned to appear at my Squadron's administration office. Where the nice civillian secretaries have you recieve or sign routine required paperwork, in regards to your positional status, in regards to your job and rank and reprimands, and clearances, and stuff. I was handed a debriefing form, saying what I was in access to, and scary warnings. And stuff. Signed it, they tore it, handed me my carbon copy. (I'll bet I have a phobia by now, to things in carbon, and don't know it!)

Not too long after that, I recieved orders for my *new!* occupation field, on the base. Firstly, it was far removed from deep dark secrets and ufos. Yay! < said the Authorities.) I would be handing room keys to people showing up to either live on this base (just like me when I first arrived) or visitors for war game type "exercises". It was a far less stressfull job, and I got along with that crew much better, than the previous. And we had the sunshine through the windows and doors on us, versus that blackworld midnight dungeon, with it's black vault and axes. Well, one day, this visiting Captain showed up. I was a 23 year-old single, and he was a late 30s something Officer, but not a gentleman. I was attracted to him, and ---covertly--- (Because that kind of fraternization is wayyyyyy not allowed) we 'saw' each other. Ya just can't keep a bad person down, I suppose (except, well, another bad peron..) (Oops!) I can just hear any military (of any era) people who might be reading this, going, "Oh my God..." And you are right to feel that way. I should have, too. Especially, because of what I discovered about him. Which meant utterly -nothing- to me at that time, but now presently, it's interesting. It's this. He always wore this kinda large gold ring with a geometric shaped face on it (odd shape) and when I took a close look at it, the face was inscribed with what we now, especially on ATS forum here, know to be the symbols of the Masonic.

It's turning out that my story is not short. All this text is the version of me trying to keep it short. I wonder if I should keep proceedin. I wouldn't mind if someone let me know. Also, I don't care if anyone wants to jump in and comment. If you want.

posted on Sep, 12 2011 @ 01:25 AM
Well, keep going...

posted on Sep, 12 2011 @ 01:31 AM
reply to post by graphuto

Thanks graph! Okay!

posted on Sep, 12 2011 @ 02:23 AM
Part Four

I have flat run out of steam for these early morning hours where I should have been asnooz. I have been up churning out my chapters, because I am RIVITED to CoastToCoastAM. Sunday night of 9-11-11. Whooooo it's no lightweight. Must be because of this fill in guy instead of the usual -old- softball regulars. This host is good!

I did not know I could multitask like this. Where there is a will(full 'child') there is a way!

This 'Part' is going to be -very- short, and I should probably keep it in my place where I'm writing these, until I can continue on it, but I just want to put it here, since I already copied it. Oh well, No biggie! I can't tell you when I will resume on this, I just have a writing streak tonight. Must be the moon.

My Captain friend was temporarily here, but he soon had to go back home. Which just so happened to be in the Virginia or Maryland area near Washington DC. (One of my polygraphers was an expert they had flown in from DC. He played a nice and understanding guy, versus the AFOSI polygrapher who was being impatient with me. (Good cop bad cop!) ) Cap wanted me to keep in touch with him and gave me a # but I did not keep in touch with him, because after he was gone, I suddenly felt disgusted toward him, and no longer attracted. I just had a bad feeling about keeping in touch with him. So I didn't.

In this branch of the service, each enlistment (is?) (was) four years at a time. Everything I told about so far, took place during my first enlistment. In my very last year of -that- enlistment, annnnd, my stay at that base, really really odd experiences took place. One night, I exited my car and was going into my off base apartment door. (This apartment was a different one from before, I had moved. During my long-gone trouble, the apartment I was in, was entered and searched and searched, by the government Agents. You can probably totally relate, about wanting to no longer reside there.) So, I'm outside walking to the door and looking strait up, because something catches my eye. This 'helicopter'(?) It looked just like a helicopter, but it was totally silent, and not only that, it had no light on. So dangerous over a residential area! Maybe they were trying to catch a criminal, but they seemed to like sitting over me for a minute, and they were pretty low. Other times my telephone would ring often, and a ridiculous sounding electronic noise would be blurbling away. It sounded like a whole bunch of (the old computers from that era, the real ones, not those Western Union things I worked near) with all the whistling and beeping and chirping, very very rapid rapid, like some sci fi movie, I guess.
edit on 12-9-2011 by simone50m because: edit


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