The School
My ELINT classes began without a hitch. The ELINT school was held at
one of the NSA’s office complexes just north of Fort Meade called
the FANX (pronounced “FAN-EX”). It was a challenge to go to my day
classes and be expected to attend my night classes for PPD. By the
end of the first month I was exhausted. The exhaustion I felt wasn’t
so much a physical exhaustion, as it was a mental. Both classes were
mentally challenging but the PPD classes were challenging on a
different level. A level I wasn’t even aware existed prior to PPD
school.
School for PPD started the same day as my ELINT classes. I met the
van after my ELINT classes had ended for the day, as instructed. As
soon as I entered the van and sat down, the doors locked, presumably
under the control of the driver. We drove for about a half an hour.
A pattern never seemed to develop in the turns and stops during the
trip, which prevented me from mentally mapping where I was being
taken. Right before the final stop we went through what would become
a familiar ritual of movements. A slow down, the front axle going
over a slight bump, then the back, the driver placing the engine in
park, and the “thunk” of the doors unlocking about 10 seconds after
the last bump.
During this first day, the garage appeared much as it did before.
Absent of supervision, I looked around a bit more. The walls were
black. I looked at the doors that the van would have come through. I
didn’t see any evidence of sunlight coming through the cracks around
the doors. Although most days it was dark by the time I arrived at
PPD school, this first day I left the hotel just before dusk. The
entire time I attended PPD classes, I never once saw any sunlight
come into this room where the van would park. I came to the
conclusion that the building we were in was not out in the open, but
perhaps underground or hidden within a bunker of some sort.
I placed my hand against the metal plate, heard the click, opened
the door and entered the vestibule. Making sure the door was shut
behind me, I went to the left wall and placed my forehead on the
visor. After a few seconds I heard a tone which was my cue to place
my hand against the metal plate once again. I entered the elevator,
pushed the one button and down I went.
After coming to a halt the
elevator doors opened and I stepped out into the room. The first
thing I saw was the pitcher of water on the table which reminded me
what the captain had told me about the water and the pills. I went
to the table, poured a glass of water, grabbed two of the four pills
sitting in the plate and popped them in my mouth and drank the water
to wash them down. I figured the other pills were for the other
student scheduled to attend classes at the same time.
As soon as I sat down to my workstation,
the elevator doors slid open. I jumped slightly, startled by the
unexpected motion and noise. Out of the elevator stepped my
classmate whom I never once said a word to during the entire length
of our class together. I didn’t know his name, where he was from or
anything else about him. We simply nodded to one another and he sat
down. After taking his pills, he slid over to his workstation. He
appeared to be a bit more familiar with things than I.
He moved with
the confidence that only familiarity brings. He put his headphones
on which reminded me that I needed to do the same. Sitting at my
workstation with my headphones on, I waited for my instruction to
begin and continued to look at my surroundings. The computer screen
in front of me was huge. I was used to working with screens a bit
smaller. I thought it was interesting that there was no mouse for
the computer.
With no warning, a voice started to speak to me through my
headphones. It sounded almost computerized, but not quite. I finally
came to the conclusion, over time, that it was a human voice but was
electronically altered slightly.
My instructor began with an overview of what I’d be learning over
the next several weeks. The overview took about 5 minutes, as I
recall. He closed the overview with a phrase that I would become
quite familiar with; “prepare for more information.”
This was always
to let me know that there would be a slight break before the next
learning session.
Back to Table of Contents
Line Flattening
I remember my first day of ELINT school being fun because I had a
lot of people to interface with. There was a lot of joking around as
well as a lot of good information to be learned.
The first day of PPD school could not, in any way, be described as
fun. By my second day of attending PPD school I was sick and tired
of it and I didn’t want to go anymore. The novelty of being an
“intuitive communicator” had worn off.
The main reason why it wasn’t fun is that I didn’t have anyone to
talk to the whole time. I got 10 minute breaks every hour. But that
wasn’t much of a respite since I couldn’t go anywhere and I couldn’t
talk to the guy across the room.
We were not allowed to bring in any
reading material, paper or any other loose articles. Captain White
had been very clear on this. I presumed it was for security reasons,
although I could never figure out how a magazine would compromise
security unless they were worried we’d write something on it. We
weren’t even allowed to go to the restroom while we were in PPD
class. There were a few times this was a big issue for me. But I got
used to taking care of it before leaving the hotel. Like many other
things, I just had to grin and bear it and move on.
All these negative aspects notwithstanding, the school was
definitely challenging. But staying sane trying to keep up with my
ELINT studies and attending PPD classes was a feat. Both were
tiresome.
When I began to put this book together, I struggled with how I would
describe to the reader what takes place when one intuitively
communicates. It’s very difficult to put into terms that can be
readily understandable. I compare this with the difficulty in
explaining the sense of sight to someone born without the capacity
to see. How would one describe the sense of sight in that case? It
would be nearly impossible. But I have attempted to put it into
terms from which the reader can at least establish a starting point
in the understanding process.
My first lesson that first day, in PPD class, consisted of listening
to one tone and watching a box on my screen that had a perfect sinewave running through it. A perfect (360 degree) sinewave is a
line that forms a perfect arc and then repeats itself as a negative
arc. There were ten boxes like this one.
I was told to listen to the tone and try
to repeat it by mentally humming it - not verbally, only mentally.
At the same time, I was to watch my first box to look for movement
of the sinewave. The goal was to see the sinewave flatten
completely. This was obviously exotic technology I was working with
because how else could I affect a change on a sinewave without being
hooked to it somehow?
Other than the headphones, which were only
used to listen to my instructor, I had no connection to the computer
on which I was working. I had a hard time believing I was going to
be able to manipulate the sinewave with only my mind. Nevertheless,
I listened to my instructor and did what I was told. The process was
slow, arduous and extremely boring.
That first day was defeating. I started wondering if I was going to
be a disappointment because I couldn’t “flatten my line.” As I
practiced mentally humming this note, I was told to watch the sinewave for any movement. I was told that I would see the sinewave
bend towards the center line; essentially making the sinewave flat.
It was around this time that I started to wonder how this skill
would be applied to communicating with aliens. It was a frustrating
time, not only because my progress was excruciatingly slow, but I
was questioning the validity of the ability in the first place.
It wasn’t until my third day that I saw progress. Imagine, mentally
humming a note for three to four hours straight, for three days! It
was borderline torture. I was beginning to think my abilities were
defective in some way. During this whole time my instructor was of
no help. He didn’t speak to me much during my first three days
because he couldn’t do anything with me until I began to flatten my
line.
When I finally saw progress I nearly shot out of my seat and danced
around the room. I was sitting there looking at my screen as usual,
feeling defeat as I had been for the past two days when something
“clicked” in my mind. It’s very difficult to explain, but I felt
what seemed to be an audible click in my mind. Just at that moment
my sinewave flickered. Up until this point, that sinewave had been
as solid as a rock, with absolutely no movement. So when it finally
did move, it startled me. I wasn’t anticipating what had just
happened.
When the “click” happened, a straight line appeared on the
screen that marked the top of the positive sinewave (the part of the
sinewave above the straight line) and it stretched all the way to
the hash mark to the left of the screen. It gave you the ability to
gauge exactly how flat the line was becoming. Each hash mark
represented 30 degrees of flattening. There was a readout at the top
right hand corner of each sinewave box that would keep a constant
record of the flattest your line in that particular box had ever
become as well as the most recent measurement.
Although this first bit of success took three days, subsequent
successes came more quickly. Immediately after that moment when my
first “click” happened, my instructor was speaking to me in the
headphones giving me further directions on what I should be doing
next. It was like the horse track announcer saying “...and they’re
off!”
My next goal was to flatten the line in the first box (there were
ten lines total, each in their own separate boxes) a total of 360
degrees (180 negative, 180 positive). It took me the rest of my time
at school that day to do it. I finally got the readout to say 180
degrees just before leaving for the night. (The readout only
registered the positive fluctuations because the negative ones were
simply a mirror of the positive.)
I went home exhilarated. I felt some sort of accomplishment. I also
felt that it was no longer something intangible. It actually
happened. I had used an ability that was given to me by an alien
race. This was a strangely powerful feeling. I went home feeling
like I could conquer the world. Of course, that only lasted until my
next lesson.
I had no idea how much more difficult things were going
to become.
The day of my first success was a Friday. I had all weekend to savor
the victory and gloat. This was difficult because I had no one to
share it with. This was the first time (and definitely not the last)
that I felt quite alone and isolated from the rest of the world. I
wanted to call my best friend in California, but I couldn’t.
During
the first few months after I became aware of PPD, I fought back
desires to tell someone about my new-found knowledge. It was very
difficult. The one thing that always was foremost in my mind was
that even if I did tell someone, the chances of them believing me
were minuscule. Because they may have a hard time believing, they
would view me differently and it would affect my relationship with
that person.
That next Monday didn’t come soon enough for me. Up until my
breakthrough on Friday, I had begun to dread coming to PPD class
because I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere. Now I was excited.
My instructor started my next lesson off by playing another tone for
me to mentally hum. It was a different tone. I could tell because I
had become so familiar with the first tone that I started to dream
about it. As the second tone began I remember thinking, “I’ll knock
this one out in no time!”
My confidence was warranted because I clicked on this one after only
30 or 40 minutes. I saw the marker line appear and the readout
jumped to 5. The clicking startled me again.
I was able to flatten my second line in a matter of an hour or so
after it had clicked. As soon as I had caused the readout to display
180 degrees, my instructor began to speak to me once again. He spoke
sparingly, only when necessary to guide my actions. If I ever had a
question I had to type it in a feedback box on my screen. I rarely
had to do this though. I asked a few questions in the beginning, but
most of my questions were summarily disregarded as irrelevant and I
was audibly notified to continue my lesson. Most of the questions he
disregarded as irrelevant were questions about the project and who
I’d be talking to. He would only answer questions directly related
to my learning. If the questions were anything other than that I was
wasting my time.
After I had flattened my second line, the third one came much more
easily. By the end of my lessons, on Tuesday, I had flattened all
ten lines the full 180 degrees required with the help of 10
different tones.
By this time, the novelty of my situation had worn off a bit. I
started to fall asleep earlier at night after classes. This helped
my power of concentration at my ELINT class as well as my PPD class.
My ELINT classes were going well. I was enjoying the curriculum and
I found it extremely relevant to my regular Air Force job. My PPD
classes had absolutely no relevancy for me yet, but I was enjoying
the mental challenge it was providing. If I could have changed one
thing up to this point, it would have been the actual time my PPD
classes were held. It was very inconvenient because I barely had
enough time to wind down from a full day of ELINT classes before I
had to gear back up for PPD school.
I had been late for my van on several occasions due to ELINT classes
letting out later than normal. Evidently, they were in tune with my
ELINT classes and where I was in my schedule because each time I was
running late from ELINT class the van would inevitably arrive at my
hotel approximately 15 to 20 minutes after I did. They must have had
some way of keeping track of where I was during these times,
although I never felt like I was being followed.
The next day of PPD classes, after successfully flattening all my
lines, was by far the most challenging. One of the exciting parts
about PPD school was that I never knew from one day to the next what
to expect. Each day was a mystery. This day brought the next big
challenge; flattening two lines at one time.
My instructor told me to mentally visualize two points in space,
each representing separate tones that would be alternately played in
the headphones. As I did this I was to force the two points together
creating one point in space. He said that they would resist one
another like opposite poles of a magnet but that I had to visualize
myself sapping the energy from each of them, bringing that energy
towards myself, so that they would no longer be able to force
themselves apart.
This exercise proved extremely difficult. My mind felt like it was
weightlifting the whole time. I thought the hard part of the school
had ended but it had only begun. It took me a full week to realize
my goal of bringing these first two points in space together. By the
time I was able to do this, my will to continue with PPD school had
almost been broken once again. I think that if I had been given a
choice, I would have ended my PPD schooling mid-way through that
crucial week.
All this time, my silent classmate had come and gone each day just
like myself. I wondered if he took the same van as I did each day. I
came to the conclusion that it was impossible to do because we
sometimes arrived only a few minutes apart from one another. I saw
him in the dining hall within the FANX complex once. As we passed
one another we both smiled and simply nodded to each other. Nothing
was said, as was always the case.
After I had successfully flattened two lines at once, my instructor
was quick to move me on to bigger and better things. My next goal
was an obvious progression by this time: to flatten three lines at
the same time. This presented an even bigger challenge. It was very
difficult to have the concentration necessary to bring the two
points in space together, but I had finally done it. To bring three
together seemed an impossibility.
I dived into the flattening of three lines with vigor. I succeeded
in doing it the same day I started. It was at this point I started
to feel the nuances of my IC abilities. I was able to explore the
ability on a small scale. For lack of a better analogy it was much
like playing a mental pipe organ. You start to learn chords after a
while. It wasn’t quite like this, but it’s the closest I can come to
describing how it felt. I went on to flattening four lines at a
time.
It was a few days after I had flattened four lines
simultaneously that I saw the white van.
I opened the door to the blue Air Force van, stepped out, and headed
to the vestibule door that would lead me to my PPD classroom, when I
caught a glimpse of light that seemed out of place within the
garage. I was quite familiar with this room by now and I knew that
the light I was noticing was not normal. I was so used to my routine
by this time that it hadn’t really dawned on me to attempt to
investigate this room in any great detail beyond an occasional
visual sweep. Of course, Casper the friendly van driver would always
stay until I had entered the vestibule. So this ruled out any
unsupervised exploring.
But this time, I couldn’t resist. I looked around trying to find the
source of the light. I turned back towards the van and to my right I
could see what appeared to be headlights shining on the wall in
front of the blue van. But I looked closer and noticed that it
appeared the lights were coming from a vehicle parked on the left
side of the blue van.
So I got up enough nerve to investigate. In order to do so, and at
the same time be as sneaky as possible, I walked to the back of the
blue van to see what was on the other side. I did this as quickly as
possible. I didn’t get too far when Casper honked his horn. Of
course, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
But before he honked his horn, to presumably tell me I was not to go
where I was going, I got a quick glimpse of the backside of a white
van. After the honk, I immediately turned and rapidly walked towards
my authorized destination; the vestibule.
On my way down the elevator, I kept wondering what was going to
happen now. Had I seen something that I wasn’t supposed to? Surely
the captain would find out. What would he say? What was another van
doing in the parking area upstairs? When the elevator opened up into
the classroom I halfway expected to find a maintenance man to be
working on something which would explain the van. But as was normal,
there was no one there. As I sat down to my lessons for the night, I
couldn’t get the white van out of my thoughts.
Everything had fallen into such a routine that I had begun to take
everything for granted. I simply went to two schools now and I had a
routine for each. But the van sighting was something exciting and
out of the ordinary. It created a distraction in my daily routine. I
only hoped my snooping didn’t get me into trouble.
As it turned out, the captain never once mentioned it. The next day
I braced myself for a meeting with the captain but it never came. I
was sure he found out, but was unsure why he never called me on it.
After a few days, I assumed it wasn’t as big of a deal as I had
thought. Then, I started thinking that he didn’t call me on it
because it was important but if he didn’t mention it I wouldn’t
think it had any significance and would forget about it. I drove
myself crazy second guessing the whole situation. I found, over
time, that you could easily do that when working around classified
projects. You start to question reality, or what seems to be
reality.
From then on, every time I would step out of the blue van, I would
always look to my left to see if there were any headlights shining
on the wall. I never saw the lights again. I even squatted to try to
look on the other side of the van once but nothing was there.
Gradually, the white van episode faded from my thoughts as I
continued to attend PPD school and discover my new abilities.
I believe it was around the time I was attempting to flatten 9 lines
at once when the mysterious white van popped up in my life once
again. This time it was completely by accident.
I was driving back to my hotel from a night out at the movies on a
Friday or Saturday night. I had just taken a two lane exit to my
hotel. While stopped at the light, behind several other cars, I
happened to glance over to my left and ahead of my position. I
noticed a white van that looked like it could have been the one I
saw in the PPD garage. The van was signaling to turn left and I was
going right. I looked at it closely to see if I could firmly
identify it as the one I had seen previously. I remember thinking
that it would be too coincidental for it to be the same one.
Then I saw the dent.
The white van I was looking at had a dent in the right rear corner
of the chrome bumper. It was in the same location I remembered
seeing a dent on the van in the garage before my snooping was
brought to an abrupt end.
I became extremely excited. Could this be the same van? I suddenly
changed my turn signal to show I was trying to turn left. When the
light turned green I edged my way into the left lane and followed
the white van. My heartbeat quickened like a sprinter in search of a
gold medal. I was on to something! But just as suddenly as my
excitement came, dread started to hit me as well. Was I overstepping
my boundaries? Should I just back off and let it be? All these
questions started to crop up. What if this was the captain’s van?
Would he recognize me following him? I suddenly became petrified at
the prospect of being discovered, but my overwhelming curiosity got
the better of me so I continued to follow.
It turned out I didn’t need to risk exposure for long. About a half
mile off the highway, in a little town called Linthicum, the van
signaled to turn right and pulled into the parking lot of a
business. I kept going, not wanting to be discovered. I quickly
turned around by doing a u-turn in the middle of the road and drove
back by the entrance to this business. I wasn’t paying attention to
the name of the business on the sign. My concern was where the van
went. It drove up and parked in front of the business. A man got out
and went into the building. Only after the man disappeared into the
building did I look at the name of the company. From the name on the
sign out front, it was obvious what their business was. The company
was involved with the technology of noise cancellation.
I drove away more confused than ever.
After finding out the van was associated with this company, my
curiosity was running full throttle. I had to do a little research
to see what they did. I discovered that they are a small company
best known for their headphones. When worn, these headphones filter
the ambient noise normally heard by the wearer. The technology they
employ effectively cancels the ambient, or background, noise that
occurs in certain frequency ranges.
I didn’t quite know what to do with this new information. What did
noise cancellation have to do with PPD? This bothered me during my
entire stay in Maryland.
Meanwhile, PPD school was progressing rapidly. By the end of my
third week I had flattened all ten lines simultaneously and was
ready to graduate to still more difficult tasks.
The goal during my fourth week was to practice and master flattening
lines in different combinations at once. By this time I could “feel”
movement in the boxes. Only later did I realize that it was quite
similar to communicating with my alien contacts. The windows not
only were responding to my input, I could sense their output as
well.
This helped me in subsequent lessons. It would be vital in
learning to assign relative meaning to the intuition. The audio
tones, so crucial in the early stages of my development, had ceased.
The tones were only used so that my human mind could relate to
something tangible to lead me to uncover what my mind could do
naturally once I had discovered and practiced it. The tones could be
described as the bridge. I had reached my destination now I had only
to learn to navigate in this new world.
In order to practice flattening separate combinations of lines at
once, I would watch my screen and see when different sinewave boxes
would light up. They would light up in different sequences first,
one at a time. Then it progressed to two at once, then three, four,
five...etc. All ten would then light up at once and I would have to
flatten all the lines at one time.
My lessons were becoming much easier in comparison to my lessons
earlier in the learning process. I could feel my skills becoming
much stronger. I began to enjoy the school more because it wasn’t so
much of a threat to my ego anymore. It was as if I had taken off the
training wheels and was riding just fine on my own. Only now I was
getting to ride progressively bigger bikes, which was very
exhilarating.
At this point, though, I still couldn’t quite make the connection
between what I was learning and how it would be applied to actual
communication.
I began to assign meaning to the flattening of lines during my fifth
week. In my interface box a string of numbers would scroll through
and I would see, as well as sense, my sinewave boxes light up
corresponding to each number. Numbers were easy because they
corresponded with the metric system in a way. The number 1 was the
flattening of the line in sinewave box number 1. The number 2
corresponded to box number 2 and so on. The number 11 would be the
flattening of lines in sinewave box number 10 and 1.
Eleven and up
were a bit more complicated because depending on whether a number
like 21 was 21 or 12 would change the degree of movement realized by
the sinewave that would correspond to the second digit. The closest
analogy I can come up with in trying to explain these differences
between numbers is relating the process to phase angles. A phase
angle is the rate at which a frequency changes and is measured in
degrees. The sinewave in a particular box, relating to the number
being relayed, would have to be at a certain phase angle. The phase
angle would establish whether it were a 21, or a 12. Even this
analogy has flaws because intuitive communication has nothing to do
with frequencies or actual phase angles, but the concept is similar.
By this time, the nuances of the
sinewave movements were becoming quite natural. I no longer would
feel the clicking any more because everything had already clicked
that was going to. By the time we got to the number 100, it had come
naturally and we didn’t need to go any further with numbers.
During the latter part of my sixth week we moved on to concepts. The
learning of concepts is much more difficult to explain, because by
this time my mind was uncovering the intuitive abilities at a record
pace.
At this point I must emphasize that intuitive communications is not
a language in the sense there are verbs, adjectives, syllables. I
simply started to comprehend what was going on in the pictures and
videos based on the combinations of lines being flattened.
On the first day of concepts I was shown some pictures and sinewave
boxes would simply begin lighting up in quick sequences with each at
a different degree of flattening. I would automatically remember and
understand that the flattening sequence represented the picture(s)
shown at the time. In one day, we went from still pictures to video
with my mind grasping the line flattening combinations as quickly as
they came. It was much like a large scale memorization process.
Sometimes I found myself in awe of what was happening. It was like
we had awakened this ravenous monster and it needed to eat, gobbling
up everything in its wake.
The last thing I learned was how to open a window to document the
results of my future communications (referred to as “comms”). In
order to document the comm I would be receiving from my
alien
contact I had to open an interface window in the background of my
computer screen. The day I was to learn this I came to school to
find a mouse set up near my computer terminal. In order to open the
window, I had to click the far right button of my mouse and press
the F10 key while the arrow was resting on the background screen of
the computer. A dialogue box would appear with several choices.
During this reporting part of my lesson, my instructor became very
vocal. All the teaching regarding the reporting procedures was done
entirely via the headphones with my instructor speaking the whole
time.
My instructor went on to say that at each place I would be stationed
I would have the same PPD code name designated in the computer
system. My code name would be “Staunch-118.” After bringing up the
dialogue box, I would highlight Staunch-118 in the menu and type in
my password. My password would be given to me at each base I
reported to separately.
So I typed in the test password he gave me after choosing
“Stauch-118” in the background screen of my computer. A separate
window appeared, with a blank screen. I was told that I would never
see anything contained within this screen, not even what I was
typing. This was for security purposes, in case someone were to see
what I was typing by accident.
It was at this time I was taught how the comms were to be reported.
There were no hard and fast rules for reporting comms. I was to
separate each part of the comm by a “/” symbol and I was to place a
“///” at the very end of my report. That was it. Simple and to the
point.
There were many questions I had but by this time I knew enough to
not ask my instructor because he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any
information. He stuck to my lesson and that was it. No more, no
less.
My official lessons were over after the reporting class. I can’t
remember how much longer I was in Maryland but however long it was,
I continued to come to the PPD school to practice my skills. I would
come to watch videos and watch my sinewave boxes light up in
response to my repeating back intuitively what I was seeing in the
videos. By this time, I could no longer correlate what the boxes
were doing. But it sure looked impressive seeing the boxes light up.
My instructor would sometimes ask me to repeat certain video scenes
again. So it appeared that they were able to monitor my results for
accuracy. I’m not exactly sure how.
The videos I was watching had no audio. They were random recordings
of people walking down the street, nature, people working, military
aircraft flying (helicopters and fixed wing). There was an
overwhelming amount of military images which I took as a sign I
would be reporting primarily military oriented comms. There must
have been 24 hours of video. As far as accuracy, my instructor only
had me repeat a few things. In essence, I assumed by now that I had
mastered my abilities.
I felt quite proud of my new ability. I had this feeling of being
the chosen one. I think anyone would have felt this way, if placed
in the same position. But those feelings of superiority faded over
time. Mainly because there wasn’t anyone I could share this part of
my life with.
I saw Captain White about a week before my ELINT classes were to
end. He showed up at the PPD classroom about the time I always left
for the night. He congratulated me on doing as well as I had and
came to wish me good luck in the future. The visit was also to let
me know that my PPD courses had come to an end. I had been
practicing for the last few weeks and he said it was time to wrap it
up.
During this last meeting he also told me what to expect next. I
was never to talk to anyone about this program unless the person was
introduced to me by Captain White as a third party introduction.
This is how Level 1 personnel kept control of the program. They had
to introduce lower echelon personnel to someone before they could
discuss anything. He told me I would be getting orders to go
somewhere soon. He didn’t tell me where, but that was okay by me
because I was ready to leave my current assignment and use my new
abilities.
That last meeting with Captain White was unceremoniously short. He
exited the room through the door next to my workstation that I had
never seen anyone use and which had blended into my surroundings
until now. I took a closer look at it. It looked like it was part of
the wall but upon closer inspection I noticed it had a recessed door
latch and the door slid open, disappearing into the wall behind my
workstation, instead of opening in or out like normal doors.
I left the room for the last time and climbed into the van waiting
for me upstairs. The drive home was uneventful. I was hoping to get
a glimpse of my van driver this time but he would always drive off
immediately after I shut the door. I didn’t care anymore. I had
stopped trying to find things out. It took too much energy and
wasn’t worth my time. The van drove off and I never saw the blue van
or its mysterious driver ever again.
I went up to my hotel room that night wondering where life was going
to lead me now. Especially since I was no longer in control of it.
The captain never once mentioned the white van incident. I was
relieved by that.
Back to Table of Contents
Photographs
This is the graduation certificate awarded to me for completing
Course EA-280.
At the same time, I was going to school at night to
learn how to utilize my intuitive communications abilities.
There
was no certificate for that course.
This was my permanent change of station (PCS) orders, which took me
from PPD Base #1 to PPD Base #2.
Certain sensitive information has
been intentionally blacked out.
Still, the information left
untouched is very interesting to the curious eye.
This was the view from the balcony of my dorm at PPD Base #1.
Another view from the balcony of my dorm.
The white dome in the
distance is where I worked.
Here, I’m pictured climbing on of our parabolic antennae.
This is
the antenna under the white dome pictured in the last photo.
This
was during deconstruction of the site.
You can see part of one of
the C-Vans in the lower right corner.
An official portrait taken in 1986.
This was four years before my
cross-train into the electronic intelligence career field.
My
military career was a lot less complicated then.
Back to Table of Contents
|