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The Secret War_ A True Story About a Real Alien War
and Shadow People 2nd Edition Heidi Hollis Digital
Instant Download
Author(s): Heidi Hollis
ISBN(s): 9780983040156, 098304015X
Edition: 2nd
File Details: PDF, 2.24 MB
Year: 2014
Language: english
 OTHER BOOKS BY HEIDI HOLLIS

ADULT BOOKS:

The Hat Man:

The True Story of Evil Encounters

Jesus Is No Joke:
A True Story of an Unlikely Witness Who Saw Jesus

The Other “F” Word:

A Book on Faith in the Real (Funny) World

How to Pray Like the Angels:

A True Story About Picture Prayers

KIDS BOOKS:

Diary Blog of the Fickle Finders:

Investigates—The Other “F” Word

Diary Blog of the Fickle Finders:

Investigates—Angels or Heroes

www.HeidiHollis.com
The Secret War: A True Story About A Real Alien War and Shadow People

Copyright 1997-2014 by Heidi Hollis

Second Edition of Illustrated TSW Version May 2014
First published 2001 as The Secret War: The Heavens Speak Of The Battle

All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright

Conventions. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any
means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,
scanning, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system
without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Level Head Publishing books may be ordered at discount rates when

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For details, contact: [email protected]

Level Head Publishing books may be ordered through booksellers or by

contacting:
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[email protected]

Illustrations done by S. Marie King

Published by arrangement with the author
All Illustrations Copyright 2012-2013 S. Marie King and Cover by Heidi
Hollis
 (EBook) ISBN 978-0-9830401-3-2
(Soft Cover) ISBN 978-0-9830401-4-9
(Hard Cover) ISBN 978-0-9830401-5-6
 Dedication

Without ever knowing the impact the words in this book would
have upon the world—I put it out there anyway.

Without ever knowing how the words of others would

impact me—people still reached out to me anyway.

This book is dedicated to all those who dared to learn something new
and let me know that they got the message.

There’s so much more that needs to be done and there’s so much more to
say.
Just know that there are many seen and unseen heroes who are working
hard to help.

Now it’s time that we all do our part in this “Secret War” that has us all at
risk
and battling, while some still don’t even know about the fight.

Here’s to opening up all eyes to the threat and this battle of ALL battles…

Most of all~Thanks to Him for giving me the Words as He Promised!

 Table of Contents
Dedication
Foreword
A Necessary Introduction
A Short Story:
Alien Adventures
Chapter #1
Reasoning’s:
The Basics
Chapter # 2
Samantha:
A New Contact Begins
Chapter #3
Cafth Speaks:
The Introduction
Chapter #4
Alien 101:
The Download
Chapter #5
Alien 201:
The Advanced Course
Chapter #6
The Odds:
2 Out Of 3
Chapter #7
Scattered Thoughts:
Speaking Out and Finding the Courage
Chapter #8
Mission Impossible?:
Getting Down To It
Chapter #9
The Faces:
 The Reptilian Beings
Chapter #10
The MIB =
The Most Incredible Bullsh*tters
Chapter #11
Angels Everywhere:
People Are Not Alone
Chapter #12
AIDE’s =
Angels in Disguise and Evolving
Chapter #13
Positive Reinforcement in Abductions:
What’s Behind It?
Chapter #14
WWW:
What Web gets Woven by our Government
Chapter #15
The Price We Pay:
The Ultimate Price Tag
Chapter #16
A Place For Us:
Preparations Are Being Made
Chapter #17
Aliens in Our Afterlife:
Why They Follow
Chapter #18
Influences in the Past:
Monumental Mysteries
Chapter #19
Supposed Evidence vs. True Insight:
What’s Real
Chapter #20
The Efforts:
What’s Being Done and What Needs to be Realized
Chapter #21
What You Should Do:
Self Help
About the Author
 Foreword

A Necessary Introduction
Putting one foot in front of the other, a common man is seen making his
way through life.
“Oh, look! An everyday person!” Someone exclaims from a distant
corner of humanity.
“Speak to us wise and common one! “ The distant onlooker insists.
“Aliens,” says the commoner.
“What the—?! You are no longer welcomed in this community of
brilliantly closed minds! I command this in the name of all that is sacred
and in our knowledge!” The humanly-based one exclaims.
The commoner then retreats and is never seen or heard from again—
keeping all knowledge of aliens to himself.
The End.

That almost sounded too silly for even me to have just written that
down! Although, in reality this sort of scenario gets played out again and
again for those who dare to speak about something outside of societal
norms. You know exactly what I’m talking about if you’ve ever expressed
an interest in aliens, muttered the word “alien,” or even felt dumb for
thinking to yourself that aliens existed!

I know it’s odd to think that a common person with the same needs and
wants as the next person, could be shunned in any way for taking a step in
an unknown direction. But it happens. I sometimes wonder if the general
population feels that those interested in or have experienced odd
phenomena should stand out more, somehow. It seems in the movies that
those who dare to show their odd interests, lacked common sense (poked
the monster with a stick to make sure it was dead), scratched in
inappropriate places (survivors of the undead onslaught) and spoke with an
impediment of some sort (well okay—maybe they were just mostly drunk
or high so they spoke that way)!
The truth is that none of us can spot out a person who has a story that is
a little bit out-the-ordinary than what is generally known. It’s because
people like that, are people like me. We can be anyone with any assorted
background, profession, or culture. As far as I understand it, the paranormal
doesn’t discriminate against people for their differences. Instead, that pitiful
device is left for us to throw around carelessly at each other. That statement
could be seen as funny and then not so funny at the same time.
Strange things happen in life, curious answers come forward, and
people are brought into awareness’s that are truly hard and even painful to
relate to others.

Now then, what you have in your hands is a book that involves aliens
and a phenomenon that I personally named called “Shadow People.” This
book also involves myself and a good friend of mine who had some strange
encounters that we could not ever fathom to have come our way. Many
issues in here might hurdle a person towards disbelief in what they read
here, yet, others might open up and start to wonder about the possibilities.
Just know that there will undoubtedly be others who read this book and
are actually able to personally relate to what is being spoken of in here.
There may also be those who read this book and find the help they were
looking for. Some of these people might be people who we all have the
honor of knowing, but societal ridicule has left them to seek out their
answers underground and alone.
Feeling socially inadequate to speak about something so peculiar also
places wedges and draws lines between families and social circles where a
person might not even know that their own closed-mind to otherworldly
possibilities allowed that division to exist. I often feel that people might as
well get used to not truly knowing a person they care about with each laugh
they sputter out in regards to paranormal topics. Especially since there’s
always that chance you are making a difference in the emotional freedom of
another to express themselves about these topics.
How do I know this outside of my personal experience? Because these
are the people who write to me from all over the globe and tell me how
alone they feel though they are surrounded by others who claim to care
about their whole wellbeing.
Drawing some more from my own personal experience, life surrounding
this topic hasn’t been easy to integrate. Family and friends are one thing to
break the news to about my experiences. But with so little regard given to
the paranormal topic in general, I burdened myself to feel like I had to give
it my “all” or nothing. Especially so, when I could find literally no answers
or anyone to relate to in the face of my Shadow People encounters.
It felt so necessary for me to take a step forward that at one point, while
in the middle of college, I got the urge to drop school to focus more on the
paranormal. The inner calling in me urged with certainty that it was to be
one of my goals in this life to help inform people of the real world in which
we all live. It then became overly important for me to try and break down
hard to digest topics into bits that most anyone could understand.
I was lucky not to drop out of school before I came to my senses,
though. I knew that if I did that I’d be considered as someone who lacked
credibility without that little piece of paper to say that I had some form of
common sense and education. Amidst a lot of struggle in not personally
caring what others thought, I did finally graduate with a Bachelor of
Science degree in Occupational Therapy.
So I am now a nationally certified Occupational Therapist-Registered
and Licensed (OTR/L), and am currently practicing in my field. I personally
don’t feel much different about my capabilities to speak on these sorts of
topics before or after receiving my degree. It just shows another form of
conformity and acceptance that the majority looks for, or else, might shun a
person for yet another slip in rank.

So now I get to begin my life’s work with this first book of mine: The
Secret War

Within these pages are a detailing about a time in my life where

unimaginable answers came my way. To many, this story might read as a
fairytale of fantastical journeys, with villains and heroes—minus the
wizards and broomsticks. What needs to be understood is that what is
written here is not done to outright convince anyone of anything (remember
later on that I wrote this here ). I only offer to lift the veil to a world that
so many resist to share, due to the harsh criticisms that exist.
I think one of the more interesting comments I’ve received over the
years since the first publication of this book, is how “brave” I was to tell my
story! Literally using that word “brave” and also claiming that I had another
“B-word” that only resides as a part of the male anatomy! I was of course
appreciative of such an accolade, but I never once thought not to put out my
story fully in one form or another.
Had I not been born with a more than active sense of humor and the
attitude of pushing forward no matter what, I might have not spoken up
either. I’ll also warn that I do tend to write as I would speak to one of my
friends, which I believe might be evident already and if not I apologize.
Having a humorous angle to depict my emotions or thoughts are not written
in here to belittle, make light of the topic at hand, or doubt myself. In fact, I
will even refer to “you” the reader, at times. But I only do all of this in
hopes to show the very human side to understanding strange phenomena in
our world.
Keeping it real and relating “on-the-level” with others, is the best way I
know how to show that there is truly nothing outrageous about people like
me being involved in UFO and alien topics. We can be anyone and we are
everywhere.

When I wrote the first version of this book in 1997, my life had
included more peculiar interests due to some odd occurrences I always
seemed to bump into for many unpredictable reasons. Now in the face of
republishing The Secret War, I think it’s important to note that much has
changed since its first publication in October of 2001 besides its subtitle
(from “The Heavens Speak of the Battle” to “A True Story About a Real
Alien War and Shadow People”). The contact mentioned within these pages
with a being named “Cafth” has actually taken less precedence in my life. I
know now that it was necessary for my interaction with him to recede so
that even greater meaning could be revealed via a different means. Even
before the first publication of this book, my interests were peaked towards
an inspiration to what I can only describe as being an outright holy
intervention.
And no—I’m not exaggerating.
Without sounding cryptic or overly religious (but in being completely
honest still) what I learned during the adventures written of in this book—
it’s nothing compared to what came next! The experiences of this book
remain as a testament to what took place and what I learned from it. But to
compare the clarity of what I’ve learned and had happen since then—it’s
just so much higher and complete now with no comparison! Some of what I
mean and the beginning of the greater influences in my life can be seen in
Chapter 19. I actually rewrote that chapter in the year 2000 to correct my
misconceptions and outright skepticism about what I called “holy
encounters.” The full story of what occurred is now in another book I wrote
called, “Jesus Is No Joke: A True Story of an Unlikely Witness Who Saw
Jesus.”
That title sort of says it all—doesn’t it?
For now, I offer up a part of my life experiences in the world of the so-
called “unknown.” This book is truly the first of its kind, being this is the
book that presented Shadow People to the world. It wasn’t written in
response to any prior knowledge of others experiencing the same or similar
phenomenon outside of what is written here, either. So no outside
influences played a role during the process of writing this book, which
accounts for the very unique approach taken in detailing about the nature of
Shadow People.
As a note, the name “Shadow People” is a name that I used in writing
this book without ever having heard of it elsewhere! Only more recently,
with others coming forward to share their experiences with Shadow People,
that it appears even privately other individuals felt drawn to attribute this
very same name to these creatures! I find this to be a very interesting and
telling pattern in itself!
At times, I still wish that the many publishers who promised to publish
this book from 1997 until 2001 (before its actual publication in October of
2001), had actually come through. Then the research on these creatures
could have begun sooner and on a broader scale, rather than stewing inside
of my head for years. But as with anything, new ideas and topics are subject
to ridicule and subjective perspectives to say: “This cannot be so!”
Therefore, my project was passed on repeatedly though many of the
publishers were intrigued enough to say they would publish it. Then
somehow they just stopped responding, lost funding or just faded away.
It’s kind of funny to think that my paranormal topic was too unknown at
the time to have kept the interests of anyone. Now, Shadow People are like
the next best thing since the discovery of ghosts floating among us! If only
there was a venting pool, at the time, for people like me whose paranormal
experiences fell outside of the imaginary lines of the “paranormal.” I know
that I would have surely dove right in that pool to splash out what I felt and
knew of these Shadow People!
Still, my fingers are crossed that more eyes and ears might actually open
up with the contents presented herein. Then just maybe we might all truly
get to know the people standing next to us a bit more. Once we do, we will
find that there are secrets many others keep that an abundance of people see
as prohibited and tabooed awareness.
Whenever I get the chance to interact with others who have experienced
oddities, I try to encourage them to step out of what I call their “Paranormal
Closets.” This means to take a step forward and take what I call a
“Paranormal Pledge” by promising to tell at least one other person of their
outlandish experiences. We can only learn more, if we dare to share.
Yet and still, there are tons of unknown truths that are being left behind
in many peoples psyches, etched upon their souls, forever to sit there and
never expand to the next person. Sadly, these much needed clues point to a
certain time that we all need to be ready for. A time where absolute
conclusions will need be drawn to decide what side of the fence we choose
to be on during the time that I am certain points to—The End Times!
 A Short Story:

Alien Adventures

Imagine this...
Space. Deep, dark, and wondrous. You’re a traveler venturing out-
coming from a distant place of different meaning. You pass several planets
in many galaxies with lots of different life forms that are very much aware
of your presence and technology.
You move on.
You continue to meet and sometimes greet those you come into contact
with. Then you come across a particular part of the galaxy that is out of
tune from what you are used to. You see a brightly lit star with various
sized planets rotating around it. These planets look mostly barren and bleak
with nothing to offer, to explore, or to learn about.
These planets are merely gray and brown with no tolerable atmosphere
to speak of. There is no life, no one to exchange knowledge with or to speak
with. You then put your transportation into high gear to trudge onward in
hopes of passing this ghastly sight as quickly as you can.
As you come closer to this emanating star or Sun, you unexpectedly see
a marvelous glow coming into view.
You count, “One, two, three planets from the star.”
There’s a pulsating, blue hue coming from this third planet in sight. It
surely stands out from the rest and you can clearly see an atmosphere
extending far beyond the edges of this planet. There is also a mixture of
pure white clouds swirling in the midst and green permanent masses on the
surface, with large pools of blue separating them.
It’s alive!
“No doubt there are beings that live here then,” you think to yourself.
“But where are they? Why are they not here to hail and ask of my presence
here?”
You go lower for a closer look and find the inhabitants cannot see you
with their technology. You come down even closer then, and you can now
see the richness of this planet, the foliage, the water, and the very life force
of the planet itself!
You settle your vehicle down on the ground and exit. You begin to walk
among some of the inhabitants and find some can see you, while others
cannot. Some respond to you in fear, while others regard you as a god.
You soon learn from them that these beings know only the restrictions
of their physical bodies and stay within those means. They value power and
rank and are very materialistic, and yet, they are very primitive in
comparison to what you have access to. There is nothing here to learn from
in a technical sense, but they are unique in their being.
There is laughter, pain, and emotion—things that you are not as familiar
in having to deal with personally. You are astonished at how these few
things rule the society of the beings that are here. Then you are introduced
to the ones who claim to be in charge of the others living there.
They marvel at your technology and the very difference of the makeup
of your body. They seek to have some of these technologies you possess so
that they may learn how to quiet their neighbors who threaten them with
war due to their petty differences. When you look into their eyes and
through your abilities, you can see that they wish to be superior at all costs.
You then observe that nothing matters to these beings, not the planets’ well
being and not each other.
You can also see that their very souls have been neglected and that these
beings hardly regard their soul’s absolute existence. These beings need to be
taught more than technology, they need to learn about selflessness and
respect for one another.
What do you do?
There’s so much potential to go one way or the other to use this contact
to your, or their, advantage.
You call upon your roots, where you come from, and your values on
how to proceed. What you may decide could lay permanent foundations in
the relationship between these beings and those of your kind who come
along next.
For the planet’s sake, one can only hope you represent a species with
decency and morals. If you are anything like the inhabitants you have just
encountered, the contact you just started might range from them being your
friends or your victims. This planet that you have just discovered is surely
to be found by others outside of your race, which makes the odds more
likely that the range of treatment they will receive will be fully covered.

A creaking noise is suddenly heard coming from the doorway, “Who let
that light in the room?” You wonder to yourself as your vision of being an
alien visitor fades away.
A commoner peeks in and whispers, “Time to wake up. No need to
imagine it anymore—the aliens are already here!”
 Chapter #1

Reasoning’s:
The Basics

I think the majority of us believe that everyone has a soul to some

extent.
When it comes to animals, plants, and bacteria—do we consider them
into that “soul having” group, as well? They all respond to their
environment, most experience pain or discomfort and have goals to
accomplish in their daily lives. So why not include all of these examples of
life in that category as having souls?
One can easily make the distinction that if these various life forms have
souls, they are indeed different from human souls—that’s a given. Whether
or not you believe these “life-possessing” things are something more than
the shell they are in, their existence of being is a fact. Most people who
have ever had a pet in their lives would most likely stress that there is
something more to their pet than just fur and button eyes. Our little
companions are just too scheming and full of character to be overlooked too
easily!
If that issue can be looked at with some common agreement, then
perhaps there will be little problem in thinking of aliens as having souls.
First of course, one would have to acknowledge that life actually exists
outside of our little realm of reality here on Earth.
Yipes! Do we dare to think of such a thing? Yes! Let’s just pretend that
we do.
So if aliens have souls that might mean theirs are different from human
souls. Let’s just not be cruel and compare their differences as being close to
that of the differences between human and animal souls.

Just to be sure before moving on: Is anyone reading this still stuck on
there being no direct proof of aliens existing? Then let me pause here for a
bit and chop some pointed topics into this dubious chapter that I’m
struggling to make flow as smooth as possible. So, just bare with me in this
chapter—it will get better, I promise!
Being that this was my first book written, it proved to be a challenge to
rewrite some parts of it without taking away from the original rawness of
the book. There was no editor and trust me when I say that no one is
making a living off from this book. So, I’ve always kept my “day job.” I’m
mentioning this here because believe it or not, some people seem worried
that if you write a book on the paranormal that you may actually get rich
from it by making stuff up. After being a published author now for over a
decade, I know of maybe only a handful of authors in this field who aren’t
working another job to pay the bills. It’s all about passion. Most of us work
off from that simple concept, though it’s rarely known or acknowledged. It’s
like going to work for free, but most that I know would never think of doing
such a thing. But when you have passion, you might find at times that you
do work for free because you are paid in rewards that feed the soul in
immeasurable ways that few know of.
Back to the thought of whether there are aliens or not:

The Proof Is In The Knowing

 With the words of millions of people around the world claiming to have
witnessed seeing aliens and UFOs firsthand, how much more evidence does
anyone need? Perhaps a nice, firm handshake directly from an alien being
would be convincing enough? Maybe even having the government
admitting that the aliens have landed—maybe that would suffice best for
people to accept that they are here?
Many of us take and trust the words of others who wrote down what
they personally experienced thousands of years ago. Some of those words
are in ancient texts, including religious texts (one of which I fully believe
in), or centuries of past discoveries. None of us were alive then to know if
what was reported actually took place exactly as its been written of. Yet, the
words of people in our current community that we can all touch,
interrogate, smack or smell—these people are simply making their stories
up of alien encounters?
Even in a court of law, if just one person came forward to testify that
they saw a particular person do a horrific crime or act, you better believe
that the witness will be believed! But do you think if we saw this same
person or a thousand people stand up in court to say that they saw an alien
taking a human against their will—do you think they would get the same
respect of being believed? Since when is it ever okay to abduct anyone
against their will and have their complaint of the crime fall on deaf ears to
where it’s ultimately ignored and even laughed at? How did we become so
numb to such things?
I am almost embarrassed to say that I breathe the same air as some
people at times.
If society only knew what a person is up against to speak out even a
little on the topic of aliens, they would realize the courage it takes to make
that step. Not all people are looking for any kind of attention to be given to
them, so they can’t all be just seeking their 15 minutes of fame in lunacy (as
some people call it). Some people just might want to inspire change out
there! In fact, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who has ever made a
living just talking about their alien encounters as a career their entire lives.

Needless to say, I am a believer of there being other life out there, even
if I never had seen and known aliens for myself. Yes, you read that right. I
have known aliens and even had the chance to get up-close and personal
with them. Just as a note, I’ll use the term “alien” only because it is easier
for others to identify what that means (and I don’t have some earthy-holistic
term for them either). To add to all of my “knowing an alien” stuff—I also
like to call them by their name if I know what it is.

Hmmm, aliens with souls and now names too?! I can hardly imagine
what someone who has never heard of this before is thinking right now,
like: “Maybe I should see if I can still return this book for a full refund.”
I’ll pause for a moment while some of you think of looking around for
where your receipt is. For the rest of you still wanting to read more, let’s
push forward.
Now where was I?

Alien Acknowledgement
Ah yes, the alien folks that I’ve met—they actually have something to
say!
In fact, I would not be writing this book had I not seen the urgency in
their pleadings and felt its significance in my own soul. All I know is that
this must be written and told so you know, so that everyone knows what is
happening on our own planet everyday.

First, I think I should take this all from the beginning with my own
background:
I have been looking into this whole UFO and paranormal arena for over
25 years now since I was a young kid. As with most people who start
looking into such things, I was mainly in search of some answers for
myself. The questions that I had in mind concerned witnessing odd things
like strange crafts, ghosts, poltergeist like occurrences, and my being a bit
more intuitive than what seemed normal. My curiosities were so peaked
with so many odd things surrounding me that it was almost ludicrous to not
get off my butt to do something about them—even as a kid!
I began on my more formal quest of answers quite innocently one day
while walking through my neighborhood mall. I had never really gone into
a bookstore before. I figured I had enough to read at school, so why torture
myself any further in my own free time?! As so many others have claimed
before, I had a mind-opening experience when I came across the book cover
of Whitley Strieber’s, Communion. The book was sitting in the display
window of this bookstore, and I didn’t even know what it was about. I just
knew that I would have to buy that book on my next trip to the mall when I
actually had money in my pockets.
I honestly cannot say that the drawing on this book cover looked even
remotely familiar to me at all. The cover had a drawing of a gray colored,
alien being (called Grays), with almond-shaped eyes. After finally reading
the book about Strieber’s life of terrorizing alien encounters, I had even
more realizations going on. I got drawn into the notion that I needed to
continue to seek out more information on this UFO and alien topic for some
unknown reason. I somehow felt that I was about to get on the right path to
finding out why strangeness seemed to follow me.
Soon this path led me to reading more books and watching for
television shows that might feature the topic of alien encounters. Later as a
brand new adult, I even joined a couple of groups that dealt with the subject
of UFOs. It was during this time of seeking that I began to realize more and
more that I was a willing part of something bigger than I could ever have
imagined.
This investigative stage was interesting, but it was nothing compared to
what I uncovered inside of myself, on my own.
In more recent years, doors began flying open left and right in my life
and mind. Strange rivers of information flowed into images that ultimately
revealed a big part of who I am today and my reasons for being. Much of
this accessible knowledge came to me by way of something that I initially
had a hard time fully acknowledging. But I couldn’t hide the truth from
myself for long—something was happening to me in my sleep!

Above And Beyond Dreaming !

It took awhile to sputter out this admission to myself in my mind, but
it’s kind of hard to fool yourself when you are the only one paying attention.
But during the night, I felt like I was getting instructions of some sort. It
was like I was receiving messages, almost spiritual insight on what to do if
certain scenarios happened and things of that nature. I eventually came up
with an appropriate name for these in-depth bits of information that came to
me in the form of (what could best be described as) “dreams.” I called it
“night school.”
These were not “normal dreams” at all.
These dreams were literally transcribed in my mind and heart to be
more like life experiences where they were filed in my memory as such.
They were so real that they were hard to distinguish sometimes as not
actually happening. That is, until I realized some of the scenarios were
simply too impossible to have happened in this material world.
Night school would sometimes take place in what seemed to be a
physical place, where I would essentially learn from various beings. To
some people, these beings might be labeled as “alien” (not fully human
looking). While others would call them “angels” (mostly human looking in
white robes). I don’t like to place labels on something I don’t fully
understand myself, but I have seen both kinds there. But mostly, the angelic
looking-human ones are what I’ve seen in night school.
But I do want to say that I’ve seen an array of beings I’ve met for a
variety of reasons, in a plethora of ways and will leave it at that for now. To
clarify a little further, though, these experiences are all generally occurring
during the night where I have left either physically or spiritually from my
bed and/or body.
Believe it or not, the occurrence of receiving “lessons” of some kind is
common among other people who report having alien connections—
whether they are good or bad ties with aliens. Even non-alien experiencers
(as far as we know) report having come up with brilliant ideas from their
dreams like Nikola Tesla to James Cameron.
Being that we are all spiritual beings, when we dream, we don’t need to
lug our bodies around to experience something educational. I remember
learning interesting things in a huge assortment of environments. Whatever
place was suitable for a teaching, I would experience just what was needed.
It didn’t matter whether the lesson took place in a park, on a craft or
underwater somewhere—literally as in an underwater world! Some of the
more “set-up” or staged lessons I received, felt like they were of a more
alien origin. This is when I experienced environments that appeared
materially or technically created to help me along in understanding
something. That, or, I actually went there...
 One of the more alien places I experienced, felt like a college town
filled with extremely tall and large buildings. The girth and size of these
buildings are not comparable to anything here on Earth. The air, the ground
and the lighting was all a peach color, and I saw three suns. I knew the
buildings to be places of higher learning, but my memory is spotty on what
was taught there. Oddly, I recall how I got from floor-to-floor inside of the
buildings between lessons. They had an interesting elevator-like system
there. There were no doors to them. You simply just stepped inside of the
elevator shaft on a tuft of unseen air, that would whisk you to the floor you
thought of. It made my stomach tickle at the speed I flew inside of the
elevator shaft. I actually am sort of a roller coaster junkie, so I kept going
up and down the elevators for fun at every opportunity!
Come to think of it, that might be why I recall the elevators so well.
Yet, I can recall being taken to a different kind of night school, if I can
still call it that. It’s a much more spiritual place that I know not to be
directly “alien” related. If I were to put a name to the beings who bring me
to this place, I would have to say they are more like a human man, with an
angelic presence. In this place, there are ancient Greek or Roman-like
buildings all around. However, instead of a bland or white stone—some of
the buildings are made of a sparkling, translucent crystal. This crystal is
very different in that it has a slight hue of light blue, with small, white lights
in it. There are always other figures walking around, too, who all have long,
white robes on.
While on one distinctive visit to this place, I was being guided by one of
the radiantly robed figures who led me in front of a scroll on a pedestal.
This ensemble of an almost podium-like pedestal, were both completely
carved out of a marble-like stone with some sparkles in it. When I walked
closer to the pedestal I could clearly see there were many names inscribed
on it. For some reason, while running my finger down the list of names on
the scroll, I quickly asked a peculiar question. “Is my name listed here
somewhere?” The angelic being was standing a short distance behind me,
and replied gently, “No, but soon it will be.”
I was then led inside of the building we were standing in front of. I went
directly to my known place to sit at inside of this large room inside. I sat
down on a long, smooth bleacher seating that was carved out of stone.
There were several rows of this seating and it was formed in a half-circle in
a single large room. I knew there were others in the room, but I could not
see them as I kept my focus on what was being said by the instructor in the
front of this room. I never took my eyes off from him as he taught, while I
scurried into the room in awe of his words.
I don’t recall exactly what the instructor looked like, and I am not
always quite sure of what gets taught in these kinds of sessions, either. But
soon after I return home, somehow, I feel like I have all of the answers to
everything in the universe—only to have someone come along and wipe the
chalkboard clean in my mind! That can be very frustrating at times, to say
the least. It helps for me to keep it in mind that somewhere inside of me I
have those lessons to access, because it surely wouldn’t make sense to learn
something I could never use.
That goes for everything in life, I feel.
Usually everything we learn does get some sort of use down the road as
we trip along in this lifetime. We might not always immediately understand
where we should apply the lesson, but I’m assured that nothing gets wasted.

Open Wide Then Bite Down

I know, I know.
First this book title talks about a war, then aliens, and then there’s this
talk about learning something with angels while sleeping? Baby steps.
Taking small steps forward while understanding something new is always
helpful and I know I’m making what seems like leaps here in mentioning so
many different things. I just want to make sure the full scope of how far this
all goes gets covered to show that this topic is not as superficial as
portrayed in the movies. It’s always said when a book is connected to a
movie, that the book is always better and gives more details (that’s what
true fans say anyhow). Well, the same goes for the truth behind stories of
aliens with real people, versus what looks good with special effects.
Just think of some of the alien portrayals done out there in movies and
try to compare them to how some beliefs are expressed in the world.
Sometimes, one little element gets taken from the “whole” of a truth. I don’t
care whether it’s a rumor or even a faith! If that little element gets focused
on enough, it can lead people to think that everything got covered. Not until
people take the time to research the “whole” for themselves, will they know
for sure if everything has actually been covered. So pardon the quick review
on the varying facts of what I’ve experienced. This alien topic isn’t a “quick
study” at all if you really want to uncover the layers.

Coin Toss
Flipping back to the alien perspective now:

Most of the stories that are told about aliens are of abductions. Those
who are abducted report feeling they are somehow paralyzed and unable to
move much more than their eyes. This is where my story differs quite a bit
from the glamorized horror put out by the media when they actually dare to
focus on the alien topic. There’s another side of contact with unearthly
beings that just isn’t hitting the airways apparently, because it’s not as
sensational enough to sell on the market.
When I speak of my contact in going to this night school, or
encountering beings, I don’t get taken against my will. This is not an alien
abductee story that I am relaying here. I think that angle of reporting only
one form of alien contact has got to change quite a bit if there’s going to be
any integrity or validity left on the topic as a whole.

If you aren’t in the “know” of what I am referring to in regard to alien

abductions, here’s a fluffy breakdown of the typical scenario:

1. A person gets a strange sensation, hears a high whining sound, or

sees a strange creature that suddenly renders the person unable to move. As
a note: These people are often tracked via devices implanted in them for
further follow-up. These people have even had these tracking devices
removed on occasion, but reportedly they often disintegrate once removed.
2. That person then gets abducted from their bed, car, woods, hotel or
any other place; by a light or alien being(s) literally pulling or carrying
them along.
3. They often see tiny Gray alien beings (the most commonly reported
alien that commits abductions) surrounding them with peculiar looking
instruments while onboard a ship that they often don’t know how they got
to.
4. Soon the person is being poked and prodded where their reproductive
organs and raw emotions seem to be a focal point of manipulation in all
manners imaginable.
5. Often times, surgical-like procedures are performed on other parts of
the person’s body where scars and bruises remain for our human doctors to
view and wonder about and/or they may suddenly disappear as oddly as
they appeared.
6. The abducting aliens often times remove fetuses from women whom
they impregnated in an earlier abduction. At a later date, these women are
introduced to their “children” as some form of hybrid between alien and
human in appearance. Men also report being introduced to their hybrid
children as a result of sperm being taken from them in a prior abduction.
7. The person suddenly finds they are back where they began, no aliens,
little recollection of what took place, but a sinking feeling that something
odd happened.
8. If taken while awake, missing time is noticed in their day sometimes
causing memories to be thoroughly searched for answers.
9. Remaining marks on the person’s body pushes the abductee to
wonder for even more answers.
10. These people may question their sanity, and at times seek
professional help as some have suffered from a disorder that only follows a
traumatic experience like rape or war called Post-traumatic Stress Disorder
(PTSD). Often times, answers are found that have non-human faces
connected to them and it happens to be the same face so many others report
independently and reluctantly around the world: The face of a Gray alien
being!

Not My Story—Thank God!

All I can say is: “Not me, not me and not me!”
These things listed above just never happened my way. However, I’ve
been lumped in there at times by people who didn’t know there is another
side to every theory and story concerning aliens.
 Yes these abduction scenarios do happen to people, but again, not to all
people. I go along in interacting with some nonhuman beings because there
is no fear involved. I have never felt I was a victim of any sort, even when I
could not always recollect fully what had happened to me in assumed
contacts. In knowing the general alien abduction story, I just knew there
was something more to my experiences than most others who I had heard or
read about. To say that I knew all along to what extent I was involved with
unearthly beings would be extremely far from the truth.
I know what some might think when they hear this kind of talk of how
someone could eagerly go along with some nonhuman beings as though it
comes so naturally—and they aren’t nice thoughts. A large portion of folks
might even think of this as being some kind of weird spiritual babble.
Again, I can see outside of myself and understand how doubts may come to
mind—I’m rational—and “no” I don’t doubt what I’m writing here by being
this rational either. To be truthful, this idea of being willing to interact with
aliens is old news.
Many people who have had experiences with alien beings are now
suddenly realizing that they volunteered to be a part of whatever it is they
are experiencing. Some people are coming to these conclusions by way of
hypnosis or simply just by a strong sense of knowing. I for one can relate to
that strong sense, because that is what really helped me to realize my
involvement.

Earthbound And Out of Place

Since I was a kid, I felt deeply connected to the world and universe that
surrounded me. Having this feeling, also made me feel a little different for
even thinking so deeply so young. I can remember at the age of five feeling
that I needed to take the time to search some things out about myself, but
without drawing too much attention. Having the skillful grace of a kid, I
didn’t do so well in keeping my mouth closed about the odd perspective I
had, though. I would often slip up and ask bizarre questions like, “Why do
we have to put one foot in front of the other? This takes forever, it’s much
faster to fly!” and “Where does fat go when you lose it?”
 I had a slightly different view of reality than most kids, and I knew it.
But what could I do about it?
I know my mom got creative in answering those kinds of questions, by
saying things like, “Fat floats in the air and lands on children who ask odd
questions!” Needless to say, I lived in terror of fat nailing me at any given
moment for some time! I literally used to run under trees and such, looking
for shelter! Today, I truly wish those kinds of evasive maneuvers actually
worked!

Back to my point: When a person has a self-realization that they are

different—then later figure out that they are perhaps in touch with
something else: You’d think a whole lot of things could potentially be made
available to that person then—right? Well, that’s what I’d think anyhow.
Now then, when after years you finally are able to fit the pieces and relate
that “something else” with a name like “angels” or even “aliens” then your
head can really become filled with the possibilities at hand.
Just think of it, “You know that you have a direct connection with
beings you are taught not to exist (or at least be accessible).” Now try
saying that over and over. That kind of personal revelation can really shine
a light in every dark corner in your mind!
Okay, you can stop repeating that now.
So now you have some inkling of an insight into the “unknown” that
involves you personally. Heck—it might even give you a feeling of who
you are and why you are, right? Finding such a deep meaning and hint of a
goal for your life—this is unheard of! This should be a proud and
noteworthy moment for you, though. It’s nothing you would want to keep to
yourself, or else you might actually explode into remorseful little pieces!

Apply Brakes Firmly

But hold on.
Just how do you show others what you have realized for yourself and
what it all means? It’s nearly impossible to go and relate something like that
to an everyday person. Most people are stuck in the “here and now,” seeking
the nearest Starbucks, and show more concern about what their hair looks
like in the morning, versus if they said their prayers lately!
 But I understand! Everyone has a process to reaching a new awareness
in this life—I think.
All of this feeling of having a “direct connection” for me didn’t just
happen over night for me, either. The sense grew inside of me, but I never
really wanted to acknowledge it on the inside and surely not on the outside.
God forbid, I must truly think I’m something special if I would even dare be
forthcoming to admit my thoughts of difference. So, I didn’t. However, that
didn’t stop my mind from searching, nor opening up when it was time for
the answers to show themselves.
Much later in life, moving on from feeling like an odd kid, I was more
fully awakened to my involvement with all of this out-of-the-ordinary stuff.
It was no small matter either, and one that I know I would have a hard time
believing had it not happened to me personally. So to be honest, I can
hardly blame anyone for not taking my word for what I’m about to detail
here.
But hey, it happened.
Just for the record, too: I wasn’t aiming to consciously gain any
information floating around in the universe prior to this, either. It was just
one of those things that keeps me scratching my head at how odd the timing
is when God works His magic:

Go Into The Light—The Light Is Good

It was sometime in May of 1997. I was sitting on my fantastically, deep-
purple futon talking to my college roommate and friend at the time who I’ll
just call, Samantha (not her real name). We were, in fact, discussing an odd
but unrelated experience we had both just had. That’s when I decided to get
up to make a visit to the bathroom (a whole lot of otherworldly focus here
as you can see). There was no true urgency to the matter, so I casually stood
up and took a couple of steps forward while still chatting with Samantha.
Just then, only a few feet away from Samantha, my eyes suddenly were
flooded with this powerful scene—dare I say—a vision even:
Immediately, I found myself gazing on a scene in space with stars
against the dark void! It was absolutely breathtaking—to say the least!
Then somehow, as if a deep sense of recognition hit me—I saw myself! I
suddenly spotted myself as this ball of white light leaving an
astronomically, huge and beautiful light that I somehow knew to be called
“The Source!”
As soon as I saw the Light, a ton of information quickly flooded my
way in an instant as I began to recall leaving this Source in order to be born
here. It was as if I were coming literally, for a lack of a better word, to do a
“mission” of some sort! I also had the strong intention in mind that I would
come back to The Source to report-in, so to speak, on how it all went!
Wild sounding as it may be, this powerful vision left me as quickly as it
had come. What seemed like an eternity of information and memories, it all
came at me in about 60 seconds or more, of actual time. Then my vision
returned to see the things that were far less familiar than what I had just
seen—my cluttered living room!

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined to experience or see

such a thing in this lifetime. But there was no doubt in my mind about any
of it—at all! I was left with this intense knowledge of absolutely knowing
what I saw and felt was real.
I can’t really say that what happened was a vision, though, because to
me it really was a time of reflection—a memory even! It was a memory so
strong that I was totally overwhelmed with emotions where tears began to
drop from my eyes unexpectedly. I think that shocked me strongly, because
I am not an emotional person in that sense My tears usually come forward
when I see great acts of kindness, oddly enough. The pain that others inflict
on others is not as moving as love to me—I suppose.

Upon experiencing this wondrous vision, I slowly began to back up

several steps to sit back down on my futon. I’d actually taken several steps
prior to the vision. So, it wasn’t like I stood up too fast from the futon
causing the blood to rush away from my brain where it might make me feel
dizzy or see things. As I backed up to the futon, I just kept repeating
sluggishly in awe, over and over, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”
Samantha, seeing my trip to the little girl’s room being interrupted
suddenly, didn’t know what to think. She just kept asking me, “What’s
wrong? What’s going on?!”
Then I started to repeat quietly and quickly, “How could I forget? How
could I forget? How could I forget?”
 I practically felt ashamed of my lack of remembrance of this place I had
just seen. In seeing this vision of this place among the stars, it felt the
equivalent to forgetting my first name is “Heidi!” I can’t forget my first
name, so how could I have forgotten this place? To me it was just totally
absurd to forget something so essential about myself and a big part of my
past. But here I had forgotten truly who I was and am!
I went on to describe to Samantha what I saw and how I remembered
everything in my coming here to be born. I told her, “It was as if my
memory was sitting just out in front of my forehead,” and I positioned my
hand out in front of my head. “And they let me have it only for a minute just
to remind me of who I was and that I was on the right path.”
I went on to tell her that I saw what many call the Library of Knowledge
or Akashic Records (neither names are my words for it), which was just
above this swirling mass of beautiful light that was called The Source. The
Source is what I would compare to the likes of God. It was the beginning of
beginnings for souls, a mass consortium of many spirits to equal one, yet
with God in control overall.
I, along with trillions of souls in this Light, flowed clockwise in the
same direction as you could see the Light spinning. It looked much like the
Sun, but spinning slowly more like a liquid would. Ideas, thoughts, and
decisions flowed through the Light like a gentle wave of water, and all of
the souls gave their input into the thoughts as they passed by. The thought
passed through about something needing to be done to help out in a
situation in the coming times ahead. For one reason or another, I quickly
volunteered to take on the challenge.
As soon as I put the thought forward that I’d help out, I shot out of The
Source’s Light, lightning fast in a blink of an eye!
Once I left, I immediately felt overcome by a terrible and overwhelming
feeling of anxiety from the detachment from this rich, love soup of Light. I
felt myself nearly begging in my wanting to return back to the Light and out
of this cold, dark space I was now hurdling through with great speed.
I knew that it was not possible to go back, though, because I knew
where I was headed. I was to go off to be somehow taught what was needed
for what I volunteered for. With the scraps of memory that I have now and
borrowing some insight from other resources, this learning process came to
me in various forms. Some of those forms I will be detailing here later in
the book.
Back in my instance of recalling coming from this Light, right there
above and to the left of The Source (if you are looking at it from here of
course), is the Library of Knowledge. This was a swirling red mass of light.
I really don’t have a name for it, all I know is that this is where all of the
records are kept of anything and everything there ever was or is. How in the
heck I knew all about what I had just seen baffled me to the extreme. So
really, don’t ask me how I know. This place was just like remembering my
old stomping grounds or backyard. I just knew what everything was and the
purpose of everything, and it all came so darn naturally!
So there I was, sitting there in awe and trying to explain to Samantha
the magnitude of what just happened to me. I had never quite experienced
such a thing like that before, and I felt sort of dumbfounded, because I felt
no explanation I could give was efficient enough. I had just remembered
what it felt like to be in the “Love Soup of God”—for crying out loud! That
sort of thing is just a little difficult to reenact!
“How could I really show her what I just saw, aside from just words?” I
thought to myself.
So I figured, “I’m somewhat of an artist (cartoonist anyway), I’ll draw it
for her.”
I sat down, still trying to calm myself about the revelation that just
happened, and got my colored pencils out to do the best rendition I could
do. But of course, I still couldn’t do it justice. It was a good thing Samantha
had her fair share of seeing things not of this realm, too, so she had no
problem in believing me from the start.

Eyes Squeezed Tight—Not Even Blinking To Let Some Light In

Sad thing is, when it came time for me to try and explain this grand
ordeal to some other friends, I had no words for them. I knew they wouldn’t
get it, or they would take a jab at belittling something that was so precious
and emotional to me. I was confined then to just keeping it inside of my
other network of friends who were experiencers of the odd sort, as well. It
really saddened me to know that regular, everyday people just sometimes
cannot open up to the possibilities of unexplainable events.
 How did we as children explain to our parents that something really
happened that they believed to be our imaginations or simply a cover-up of
the truth? I know in my case that I simply wasn’t believed: I’d heard a vase
crash to the floor in another room when no one else was in the house—but
me. I ran to see what had happened, only to find my stepmother’s favorite
vase thrown clear across the room, lying in little pieces. Upon returning
home, my parents looked to the logical answer and blamed me and insisted
that I just take responsibility for what I had done.
I was a teenager when this happened, and a rather responsible one who
didn’t make a habit of lying and this was well known by my parents. Yet,
there was nothing I could say to them that would convince them of my
innocence. I knew the truth, still in all of my pleading it fell on deaf ears
and I still had to pay for that vase. I still like to bring up this incident every
once and a while with my folks to share the shear strangeness of the matter.
Oh, and of course I also take great pride in rubbing it in a little bit about my
continued claim of innocence all of these years later. (I’m sure they’ll
appreciate the humor in seeing it in print now, too .)

This matter taught me early on that there is nothing I can do to prove

anything to anyone. I just hope that even a hint of my truths are taken into
some consideration. If my appeals do not reach people in reading this book,
it is not something that I will be at a loss for. I won’t have to pay for the
figurative “vase” this time around!
I am hoping that no one will have to pay for not knowing the true reality
of our universe. This is the challenge I have decided to take on in this
lifetime, which I do so with pride and caution. I want to make sure that I
explain myself and intentions clearly so as not to be misleading, nor
confusing. But let’s face it; some people are already scratching their heads
out there.
As mentioned in the Foreword, you may see that I take a humorous
standpoint in relating some concepts in here. It’s all done for a good reason,
however. Some of the things I have to lay out here are truly heavy, and it
helps to lighten the load if we can all smile sometimes—even in the face of
the horrible things to come or are already here. It’s an interesting ability we
all possess as human beings, where our humor and love can see us through
the darkest of times.
Well, keep this all in mind as I attempt to reveal and relate the
complicated stories that have been told to me by some extraordinary,
nonhuman beings who truly have a message to tell that involves us all—and
others!
 Chapter # 2

Samantha:
A New Contact Begins

I’m sure that one of the first things people would think of if they had a
connection specifically to aliens is how cool it would be—for one. Then the
second thought might be, “I wonder if I can get my hands on some cool
gadgets!” I suspect that some people have already received some insight on
such things, whether that insight was offered freely or not. Others might
think if they had access to aliens, “Wow, I wonder if they will let me see all
the other freaky planets in our universe!” Believe it or not, that tends to
happen, too, though rarely from what I’ve heard about.
 Then there’s the other possibility that maybe a person could really get to
learn what “so-called” aliens and their agenda on Earth are all about. This is
where I feel I sort of fall into this stuff. Falling into that crack of the
unraveling universe with me is yet another fortunate person I mentioned
earlier, Samantha.
Samantha is very much a part of my understandings of alien beings.
Oddly enough, she also happens to be an artist, but about 100 times better
than I am. She and I got along great as roommates while in college, since
she also happened to specialize in drawing cartoons while I wrote and drew
comic strips for college newspapers nationwide. So needless to say, our
place was a bit colorful with cartoons and artsy themes all about.
In some ways I think artists are more sensitive to paranormal things. We
seem to pay closer attention to details and things that are generally
overlooked by others. Artists always seem to seek out beauty in every
crevasse in hopes of replicating it on a canvas or paper. While in the midst
of our searching is when we often stumble across other things. Well, I can
say with certainty that Samantha is one who stumbles and liberally at that!
By now a lot of people have heard that when people have reported being
in the presence of alien beings, they communicate telepathically. This
means that the beings speak directly, mind-to-mind communication, and
some people are able to speak back to them in the same manner. If you can
conceive of this being possible, then what other way might you imagine
they would be able to communicate?
I’ll give you a minute to think.
Done? Okay, well they also communicate via channeling. Believe it or
not, that happens to be another source for this book. “Channeling” is where
information from elsewhere sort of channels through an intended target or
person. I already know what you are thinking, “Why didn’t I follow my gut
to return this book earlier when I had the receipt in my hands?!”
I realize that word “channeling” conjures up ideas of sorcery, witchcraft,
or whatever dark and mystical practices there are. This is not that sort of
dealing. There are some major elements with this kind of channeling that
are greatly different when it concerns the beings communicating in this
fashion.
When in the presence of different alien beings it doesn’t matter whether
you’re on a ship, or even if you are driving alone in your car, these beings
can think a thought and “poof”—it’s in your head! In regard to the
channeling form that I’m speaking of, the process is very similar. The
difference is that your own mouth can be used to relay the alien’s message
to others who may want to hear what the alien is saying to you, too.
The person channeling doesn’t have to open their mouth to get the
message of what’s being said to them, so it truly can be kept only to
themselves. But the scenario still holds true, as I already mentioned about
telepathy with aliens. The being can be physically present or you can be in
your car and suddenly get what you feel is intuition coming into your head
to go down a lonely road for no good reason (which is a widely reported
occurrence by people who have been abducted by aliens). Sometimes actual
words are heard, images are seen or strong intentions are floated your way
to get the idea intended. So to think that telepathic communication is far-
out, channeling is not much stranger and practically the same.
Channeling happens to be the gift that Samantha was surprised to find
that she possessed, but she likes to consider it “meditation” or “prayer” since
that was where she found alien beings waiting to communicate with her one
day. So then, out of respect, I will also refer to her talent as “meditation.”
Why do these two words work better for her versus “channeling?” It’s
because she has always prayed in a meditative state. In all honesty, prayer is
a form of meditation if you really think about it. When Samantha took this
meditative approach prior to the incident I am about to detail, she did not go
into prayer for any other reasons than any of us do—to speak to God.
As she and I ventured into this talent of hers, we also learned that this
meditative gift was not totally Samantha’s, either. You could say she kind of
meets “them” halfway and they use a form of technology to complete the
connection with her. She actually feels better knowing this component.
Samantha says she does not feel so odd to say that it is just all of her doing,
what she can’t help but to sometimes call, this “weird channeling thing.”
For some reason she thinks since it is partly alien technology that’s
being used in this connection, she is less likely to lose herself or her identity
in talking with different beings so much. She and I have both heard of
channelers who do not use their gift of channeling anymore, just because
they felt they were becoming too blended with the entities they spoke with.
For all we know, Samantha hasn’t suffered any consequences as these other
channelers have reported, perhaps because of the technology used on the
aliens’ part.
Samantha’s case of speaking with nonhuman beings is a very unique
one in that she came across her first entity quite by accident, and one would
think that it would have literally caused an accident once you hear the full
story. I can’t help but go into this story a bit because it really shows how
seemingly everyday people are totally drawn into this sort of thing whether
they had an interest in the topic of aliens or not. Samantha was one who
totally did not care for the topic of UFOs or aliens, and pretty much had to
get shaken up a bit before she acknowledged what was going on around her:

Samantha lived with me while we both attended college for about a year
before she finally came to grips with her alien connection. Before she
moved in, I told her that I often had strange phenomena going on in the
apartment. I wanted to make sure she knew fully what she was moving into
and would not be startled too badly when odd things would happen or
appear. I told her about the odd electrical happenings, things moving on
their own and the occasional walk through of some see-through visitors and
so on—just your typical home on the flip-side of this planet!
Samantha confided in me that she would have no problem with any of
that sort of stuff. She continued to say this is because she had God on her
side, so therefore my demons would not be able to touch her.
“Demons?” I said.
“Well then, if you see my little “demons” running around—you just
ignore them then, okay?” She agreed and moved on in anyway.
Well, it took only a few weeks for her to see that my demons were not
demons at all when she witnessed three of them hanging around one day. In
fact she could see them more clearly than I could! To me I could just see
outlines and shapes, but she could see the eyes and details of what appeared
to be alien beings hanging over one of our friend’s head named Tom. Tom
just so happened to be someone who had been abducted by aliens. He was
actually there talking with another friend of ours who was a hypnotherapist
who was aiming to help Tom find some answers about his personal alien
experiences. So it was a heck of a night to begin with, but then to actually
see aliens transparently hanging out—made it a freaky night!
 Doing what artists do best, Samantha then proceeded to draw me what
she was seeing so we could compare drawings since I was doing the same
thing. Of course our drawings coincided. But another interesting thing
occurred, too. Samantha could also sense that these beings she was
witnessing had no evil intentions. Yet, for one reason or another, Samantha
still felt more comfortable in calling them demons instead of aliens—go
figure!
Since that time, Samantha bore witness to many other phenomena, but
she still had a hard time accepting the full meaning of what she was
experiencing.
“I want to see a UFO,” she would contend over and over, “and then I’d
know for sure what they are.”
Samantha wouldn’t get that wish of hers for some time either, and I
suppose it took too long because she started to denounce everything she
ever saw in relation to the topic. In fact, aliens and UFOs was a topic that
became banned from all conversation with her unless she was making fun
of it. She then began to blend with the rest of my friends, since poking fun
of the topic was typical of them. So once again I had only my other group
of friends to turn to who were already involved in the topic of UFOs for
when I’d have an astonishing encounter or experience. It was a shame that I
had to go so far to speak to someone instead of being able to look over my
shoulder to share it with those who were closest to me.

But then in April of 1997, Samantha was paid a special visit while
driving to college one day—I guess the timing was finally right:

The phone rang and I went to answer it, “Heidi—oh my God!” I

recognized it as being Samantha and she was crying hysterically.
“Heidi, I don’t know—something flew into my windshield and started
talking to me and now it’s in my classroom! I can’t stop shaking! It’s like
shocking me or something! Oh my God—it’s here again!” She then
continued to cry.
I completely had no clue what she was talking about and it made me
grow madly concerned! She sounded like she was having a breakdown or
something, not that she had ever before. The best I could do was offer to
pick her up and drive her home so she could at least settle down to some
extent.
In the midst of all her sobbing and tears, she surprised me when she
responded to my offer and said, “No-no, I’m okay! It-it feels good!”
She said there was a being that she was seeing and it was shocking her
full of what felt to her as absolutely powerful, positive energy! She said she
just wished that her hands would stop shaking so she could continue to
draw in her art class. She was a bit self-conscious that the others in her class
would think she was having a seizure or something (which was not a
condition she had at the time)! So to avoid any strange stares, Samantha
decided to leave class early that day.
Later that evening when Samantha got back from her school and I got
back from mine, we went out driving around where we lived on
Milwaukee’s Eastside by Lake Michigan. As we drove around this college-
side of town, we began to chat further on the details of what transpired
earlier that day. When Samantha began to tell more details than what she
conveyed over the phone, I wish I’d had a camera on me to capture the
more than puzzled look I’m sure was strewn across my face!
She described how this clear, see-through being, full of white sparkles
poked its head through her windshield while she was driving to school! To
her, it looked like it had an almost gelatinous appearance, where a definitive
edge could be seen, but it was smooth and fluid in its movements where it
appeared to be weightless. She said when it first poked its head through her
windshield without breaking it, she just automatically started relating to this
being and talking to it.
I had to ask her, “Didn’t seeing that thing freak you out?”
Samantha would often scream out when she would have night visits by
different beings in our little wacky apartment, so I knew her style wasn’t to
remain calm. If you don’t know, aliens and others can be quite abrupt in
visiting people. I don’t think some of them understand that they have the
element of surprise on their side that causes our hearts to do back-flips,
even though some of them may mean no harm.
Samantha went on to tell me, “No. It was weird! It had a real calming
effect to it so I wasn’t scared. What really surprised me was when it
answered my questions—it would use my mouth!”
 She said it felt like when she would have her mouth numbed at the
dentist office, where she couldn’t fully feel everything and had a tingling-
like sensation. Then she felt her mouth moving really stiff-like, just
snapping up and down like a puppet!

She recalled asking the being, “Who are you and what is your purpose
here?”
The being responded, “I’m what humans call an alien. Each of us has a
specific part to do in this mission and we will often change off to serve our
individual purposes.”
Samantha then had the idea pass through her mind from this being, that
he was like the initiator of contact. Some sort of ambassador to start
relations.
Samantha says she then began to rattle off questions at the being as if
she had rehearsed them or something. But when I think about it, she really
did have a lot of time to accumulate questions since she had been
experiencing many things right along with me for some time already.
Unlike myself, she would never let herself vent her concerns or questions to
anyone. So I suppose when this being made itself available, she just let it all
out in one long scramble of rambles!
Samantha continued on to ask the sparkling-being, “Some people think
you guys are here to either destroy the planet or help it out. So then—what
are you doing here, anyways?”
“We will not be the ones to destroy the Earth. The humans will and
when they have done so, we will be here to help those who survive,” the
being responded.
“You mean just like in my dream? That’s what it’s going to be like when
all of this ends?”

Samantha had a dream three days earlier that she was trying to relate to,
and I will go into more detail about that in Chapter Four. But in brief,
Samantha’s dream showed her our planet desolate and in complete
destruction.

“Humans live only by emotions. They respond only to something they

are experiencing at the moment—they do not see the direct damage they are
causing. It will be too late by the time they realize their fate,” the being
explained.
Then the being went on about more personal matters, “It is not a
coincidence you met Heidi and are now studying about the Indians. Nothing
is ever a coincidence.”

Samantha was taking a class at the time that addressed the beliefs the
Native Americans had. In reading over some of the textbooks, she and I
both discovered that the Native Americans had a lot of what sounded to us
like alien encounters. So much, in fact, that Samantha focused on that
concept for her final project and presentation.
Samantha presented to her class how they may have indeed had contact
and that their beliefs encompassed other-worldly visitations. Some of the
Native Americans’ lore directly stated that they were given their
instructions by the “gods of the sky.” These instructions included how to
respect the environment, all the way to how they performed rituals to dance
until exhaustion. This was done so their bodies became weak and easier to
leave so that they could have experiences and visions of the beings and
spirits they often referred to. By this sparkling-being mentioning the
“Indians,” I guess we were right to think what we did about the Native
Americans’ beliefs.

While Samantha was speaking of what she experienced earlier that day,
I continued to listen in amazement to her account. We soon stopped driving
and parked near the lake to continue to chat. Soon after we stopped,
Samantha revealed something that I would have never expected—she told
me she felt the urge to meditate right then and there! I had never witnessed
her meditate or pray before. I really didn’t know what to think of it or if I
should leave her alone in the car to go at it, or something. In fact, she had
never done this in front of anyone aside from guided relaxation, so it was
pretty odd for her to volunteer this outright. But who was I to say no?
Finally my friend was getting hip to this UFO and alien stuff, so I let her
lead the way.
When Samantha casually leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and
began to meditate, I had no idea that a whole new world would open up to
us. There was someone waiting for us on the other side of her mind’s eye.
Other documents randomly have
different content
ages has proved it to be, is the hazard which the church runs of
rearing an impure priesthood, by proposing the gratuitous education
of all the professedly "indigent and pious" who will apply for her
bounty. The temptation to insincerity which is thus held out is too
powerful to be resisted by depraved human nature. The church for
safety in this respect must raise munitions and throw up her
ramparts, to guard against the admission of unhallowed intruders.
And what better defence, we would ask, could the ingenuity of man
have devised for the prevention of the evils adverted to, than that the
entire amount of contributions which are made for the education of
candidates for the ministry, should flow to them exclusively through
the manual labor channel? An inspired Apostle has said, that if any
man will not work, neither shall he eat: and in perfect accordance, as
we think, with the spirit of this declaration, we would unhesitatingly
affirm, that if any man, who has the ministry in view, when the
opportunity is fully presented, will not enter a manual labor school,
and labor, working with his own hands, for at least a part of his
support, neither should he eat the bread of the church, nor be
fostered by her charities to minister at her altars.

To say that students for their recreation need something more

amusing and sportive than the useful and sober exercises of
agricultural and mechanical employment, is to say that the
propensity of young men to levity and frivolity is so powerful that it
cannot be, and ought not to be, controlled; that to aim to instil into
them the habits and sentiments of gravity and sobriety is an
unnatural and impracticable undertaking; and that it is more
advisable to treat them as merry Andrews than as possessing the
dignity of rational, immortal and accountable creatures.

Let a system of education make provision for nothing but what is

elevated and useful, and still space enough will be left for all the
frivolity and sporting which any can deem to be absolutely essential.
These things will take care of themselves, and will inevitably come
in, on any plan that may be adopted, to secure all the advantages
which they are capable of affording.
Another objection which has been preferred to manual labor schools
is, that they contribute but little or nothing to the support of the
student.

The truth on this subject, as could be satisfactorily shown is, that, as

might naturally be expected, manual labor schools, being a novel
experiment in this country, have had to struggle, as do all similar
enterprises of benevolence at the outset, with formidable obstacles;
and in some instances, through injudiciousness in their location, or
mismanagement in their arrangements, have either been
abandoned, or have failed to fulfil the expectations of their
projectors. Mercantile and other adventurers often fail in their plans.
At the same time it is undeniable, that some institutions of this sort
have succeeded beyond all previous calculations, and the students
that composed them have not only enjoyed better health than others,
and made more rapid advances in knowledge, but a portion of them
have, by the avails of their labors, defrayed the whole of their
expenses; a few have done more; and a majority have diminished
them about one-half. Manual labor establishments, therefore, will do
something (we ought not to expect them to do every thing,) towards
cheapening education, even in the infancy of their existence; and the
thought can hardly fail to be cheering to American republicans and
patriots, that in the full tide of successful operation which we believe
will attend their maturer age, "full many a flower" which but for them
would be "born to bloom and blush unseen," will shed its "sweetness
on" Columbia's "air."

But admit for a moment that manual labor schools are an utter failure
as regards the pecuniary advantages which they afford. Admit, if you
please, that the manual labor feature is an expensive part of
education, and that to comply with it an education will cost more than
on any other plan. The argument for their utility remains alike
unanswered and unshaken. Is not the education thus obtained a
more perfect one? Is it not immensely more valuable? Are health,
morals, useful habits, vigorous intellects, and life, worth nothing? Is
money expended for the improvement and preservation of these
thrown away?
If manual labor schools increased the expenses of education
fourfold, they would still deserve the warm patronage of the public,
and all who have the ability should send their sons to them to be
educated, in preference to any other institutions, even should they
have as many of them as the Patriarch, or be endowed with the
riches of Crœsus.

It is an ill-judged economy which saves money at the sacrifice of life,

health, and morals. Let this subject be understood by an intelligent
and Christian community, and manual labor schools will not be left to
languish and die without endowments, while on other institutions of
less substantial claims, they are lavished with a princely
munificence.

In this place, it may not be amiss to attend for a short time, to the
testimony of some of the pupils and superintendants of manual labor
schools, who have detailed the results of their observation and
experience, and which is strong and decided in their favor.

In one instance the pupils say, that "believing the results of

experiment weightier than theory, we beg leave respectfully to
express those convictions respecting the plan of our institution,
which have been created solely by our own experience in its details.
1. We are convinced that the general plan is practicable. 2. That the
amount of labor required (three hours per day) does not exceed the
actual demands of the human system. 3. That this amount of labor
does not retard the progress of the student, but by preserving and
augmenting his physical energies, does eventually facilitate it. 4.
That the legitimate effect of such a system upon body and mind, is
calculated to make men hardy, enterprising and independent; and to
wake up within them a spirit perseveringly to do, and endure, and
dare. 5. Though the experiment at every step of its progress has
been seriously embarrassed with difficulties, neither few in number
nor inconsiderable in magnitude, as those know full well who have
experienced them, yet it has held on its way till the entire
practicability of the plan stands embodied in actual demonstration. In
conclusion, (they add,) we deem it a privilege, while tendering this
testimony of our experience, to enter upon the record our
unwavering conviction, that the principle which has been settled by
this experiment involves in its practical developments an immense
amount of good to our world; it is demanded by the exigences of this
age of action, when ardor is breathing for higher attempt, and energy
wakes to mightier accomplishment."

On a subsequent occasion another set of pupils belonging to the

same institution, express their convictions in a similar tone of
approbation.

"The influence of the system," they say, "on health, is decidedly

beneficial, as all of us can testify who have pursued it for any length
of time. We can pursue our studies not only without injury, but with
essential advantage. Not only is our bodily power increased instead
of being diminished on this plan, but the powers of the mind are
augmented, while moral sensibility is not blunted by hours of
idleness and dissipation. We suffer no loss of time, as no more is
spent in labor than is usually spent by students in recreation; and we
are taught to improve every hour. Our opinion is, that intellectual
progress is accelerated rather than retarded by this system. In its
success, we are convinced, is deeply involved the prosperity of
education, and the great work of evangelizing the world."

The students of Cumberland College in the State of Kentucky, say,

"we beg leave to state the results of our own experience. Having
been for a considerable time, members of a manual labor institution,
we have had an exhibition of its principles and efficacy continually
before us; and we are convinced that labor, for two hours or more
each day, is essential to the health of all close students, and equally
necessary for the development of the mind."

The young men in the theological institution at Hamilton, in the State

of New York, say, "we feel the fullest conviction that every student
who neglects systematic exercise, is effecting the ruin of his physical
and moral powers. Nor is the influence of this unpardonable neglect
less perceptible or deleterious, as it regards his moral feelings.
Without it, however pure his motives, or ardent his desire to do good,
we have but faint hopes of his success. Such habits as he would
inevitably form, we believe, would ruin all the nobler energies of his
nature. We think three hours appropriate exercise each day will not
eventually retard progress in study. We must say, from five or six
years experience in the institution, we have not learned that any
close student has ever completed an entire course of study without
serious detriment to health. We hope, however, our present system
of exercise will soon enable us to exhibit a different statement. In the
preservation and improvement of health, we have found an
unspeakable benefit arising from systematic exercise. Without it, we
deem it impossible for the close student to preserve his health."

The superintendants of a kindred institution, in a document which

they have laid before the public, declare, that they "have great
satisfaction in being able to state that a strong conviction pervades
the minds of the young men generally, as well as their own, that
laborious exercise for three hours per day does not occupy more
time than is necessary for the highest corporeal and mental energy;
that so far from retarding literary progress, it greatly accelerates it;
that instead of finding labor to encroach upon their regular hours of
study, they find themselves able, with a vigorous mind, to devote
from eight to ten hours per day to intellectual pursuits; that under the
influence of this system, mental lassitude is seldom if ever known;
that good health and a good constitution are rarely if ever injured;
that constitutions rendered delicate, and prostrated by hard study
without exercise, have been built up and established; that this
system with temperance is a sovereign antidote against dyspepsia
and hypochondria, with all their innumerable and indescribable
woes; that it annihilates the dread of future toil, self-denial, and
dependence; secures to them the practical knowledge and benefits
of agricultural and mechanical employments; gives them familiar
access to, and important influence over that great class of business
men, of which the world is principally composed; equalizes and
extends the advantages of education; and lays deep and broad the
foundations of republicanism; promotes the advancement of
consistent piety, by connecting diligence in business with fervency of
spirit, and will bless the church with such increasing numbers of
ministers of such spirit and physical energy, as will fit them to endure
hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ."

We are every day more and more impressed with the importance
and practicability of the manual labor system, as the only one by
which the increasing hundreds and thousands of the pious and
talented sons of the church can be raised up with the enterprise, and
activity, and power of endurance, which are indispensable for the
conversion of the world to God.

To these statements the individual who has collected them, adds his
own testimony in the following language: "I have been for three
years and a half a member of a manual labor school. The whole
number of my fellow students during that period was about two
hundred. I was personally acquainted with every individual, and
merely 'speak what I know,' and 'testify what I have seen,' when I
state that every student who acquired a reputation for sound
scholarship during this time, was a fast friend of the manual labor
system. The most intelligent, without a single exception, were not
only thoroughly convinced of the importance of the system, but they
loved it with all their hearts. They counted it a privilege and a delight
to give their testimony in its favor, and they did it in good earnest.
Their approval of the system rose into an intelligent and abiding
passion; and it is no marvel that it was so; for they had within them a
permanent, living consciousness of its benefits and blessings. They
felt it in their bodies, knitting their muscles into firmness, compacting
their limbs, consolidating their frame work, and thrilling with fresh life
the very marrow of their bones. They felt it in their minds, giving
tenacity to memory, stability to judgment, acuteness to
discrimination, multiform analogy to the suggestive faculty, and
daylight to perception. They felt it in their hearts, renovating every
susceptibility, and swelling the tide of emotion. It is true, with a few, a
very few of the students, the system was unpopular, and so were
languages and mathematics, philosophy and rhetoric, and every
thing else in the daily routine, save the bed and the dinner table.
Such students were snails in the field, drones in the workshop, dumb
in debate, pigmies in the recitation room, and cyphers at the black
board.

"In every manual labor school which I visited in my tour," he

continues, "it was the invariable testimony of trustees and teachers,
that the talent, the scholarship, the manliness, the high promise of all
such institutions, were found among the pupils who gave the manual
labor system their hearty approval; whereas if there were among the
students brainless coxcombs, sighing sentimentalists, languishing
effeminates, and other nameless things of equivocal gender; to
prostitute their delicate persons to the vile outrage of manual labor,
was indeed a sore affliction!"

We shall close these selections by adding to them the testimony of

an individual4 of distinguished literary attainments, whose
advantages for obtaining correct information on this topic, as well as
many others, have been of the most favorable kind.
4 Professor Stuart.

"The God of nature," he observes, "has designed the body for action;
and all efforts to counteract this design, end of course in
disappointment, sooner or later. The same God has designed that
men should cultivate their minds; and I never can believe that this is
deleterious in itself; it is so only when we neglect what he has bidden
us to observe, i.e. daily discipline and effort to preserve health.

"Students want vacations, journeys, remission from employment, &c.

&c. and this at a great expense of time and money. Why? Because
they will not be faithful, every day, to watch over their health, and to
use all the requisite means for its preservation. Why should the
farmer, the mechanic, the merchant, the physician, the lawyer,
support a never ceasing round of employment, and the student not?
Is there any curse laid by heaven upon study? No; it is inaction—
laziness—that makes all the mischief, and occasions all the
expense. This is my full persuasion from thirty years experience, and
somewhat extensive observation."
To these selections others of similar interest and importance might
be added from the Report from which they have been derived,
particularly the numerous and harmonious opinions of literary men,
on the necessity and utility of regular systematic exercise to the
student; but our time forbids the indulgence, and the maxim of
Festina ad finem admonishes us to cut short this address.

From the view that has been taken, we perceive then, with a
clearness which cannot be mistaken, that the manual labor system
of education is applauded by "a cloud of witnesses," and
commended to our patronage and attention by arguments and facts
innumerable, palpable, and unanswerable. Will the inquiry be
misplaced, when we ask, Shall it here, (on this consecrated ground,
this literary high place, which is destined to send forth a mighty
stream of influence for good or ill, to an extent which no arithmetic
can calculate,) shall it here receive the countenance and patronage
which it so richly deserves? Manual labor schools are already in
successful operation in this southern country, and the prosperity that
has attended them has been such as to silence the cavils of
opposers, and remove the apprehensions of the distrustful. With all
enlightened and candid persons there can be but one mind
respecting their practicability and their peculiar importance in this
southern region. It is the very section perhaps, of all others, within
the limits of our republic, that is best adapted to their growth, both on
account of its soil and climate, and in which, from its peculiar
situation, their influence is most imperiously demanded.

Again, then, I ask, will "the ancient and honorable Dominion" consent
to be outstripped by her neighbors in an enterprise of so much
grandeur and promise? Will parents, instructors, and pupils, repose
in inglorious ease, and cry a little more sleep, a little more folding of
the hands to sleep, while others in the race of competition press
forward and bear off the prize? Will the young men of Hampden
Sidney and Union Seminary sit still; or will they "awake, arise, and
put on their strength?" Interests that are dear as honor and life, are
suspended on the practical reply which this inquiry receives.
It is stated, as is probable on good authority, that in years that have
gone by, "some of the Virginian philanthropists offered to educate
some of the Indians, and that they received from the shrewd
savages the following reply." (He that hath ears to hear, let him hear
what the savages have said to the civilized!)

"Brothers of the white skin! You must know that all people do not
have the same ideas upon the same subjects; and you must not take
it ill that our manner of thinking in regard to the kind of education
which you offer us does not agree with yours. We have had in this
particular some experience. Several of our young men were some
time since educated at the Northern Colleges, and learned there all
the sciences. But when they returned to us, we found they were
spoiled. They were miserable runners. They did not know how to live
in the woods. They could not bear hunger and cold. They could not
build a cabin, nor kill a deer, nor conquer an enemy. They had even
forgotten our language; so that not being able to serve us as
warriors, or hunters, or counsellors, they were absolutely good for
nothing."

The calamities which are here set forth in such graphic terms have
by no means been confined to the fathers and the sons of the forest.
The white young men of Virginia, in great numbers, have since been
educated in like manner "at Northern Colleges," or nearer home: and
when restored to their parents and guardians have been found, for
the most part, like the sons of the red men, to be "absolutely good
for nothing." They have proved to be "miserable runners." Not one in
twenty of them has risen to eminence in professional life. They could
"bear neither hunger nor cold." They were practically ignorant of
mechanical and agricultural employments, and strongly averse to
them; too high minded and indolent to labor, and too weak and
effeminate to "serve as warriors, and hunters, and counsellors." Will
Virginian parents learn a lesson from their own past experience and
that of their savage predecessors? The corrective which we propose
for the evil complained of, (and it is too serious for merriment,) is the
immediate introduction of the manual labor system into all our
institutions of learning. If this feature is introduced and kept up in
them, with a prominence proportioned to its importance, our youth,
who are educated in them, if not fitted for usefulness and distinction
in the departments of law, medicine and theology, will not be utterly
"spoiled" as the sons of the red men were; but will be good
"runners," useful and respectable laborers, mechanics, planters, and
farmers. This, after all, is the population, of which, more than any
other, Virginia needs an increase. The low state of mechanic arts
and of agriculture among us, or rather the prevailing vice of
indolence, is the true source of the present disasters which are so
often made the theme of popular declamation by stump orators and
upstart politicians. It is indolence, more than any or every thing else,
that checks the spirit of enterprise; that covers this fairest portion of
our continent with sackcloth, and spreads over it the sable shroud of
desolation. Let then a revolution be effected in our system of
education. Let our youth be trained for the duties of practical life. Let
them be instructed in what is useful, as well as ornamental; and let
them bring minds stored with the riches of learning and science, to
bear and act on the subject of most absorbing temporal interest to
the American people, I mean the neglected subject of agriculture,
and all will yet be well. The citizens of the South will then be
independent indeed, and not in boast. Labor, like "marriage," will be
"honorable in all." The work which misguided abolitionists are
laboring, with a zeal that would be becoming in a better cause, to
perform by a meddlesome and violent interference, will be effected
by the gradual and voluntary agency of her own inhabitants. Her
population will multiply. Commerce will thrive. Barren fields will be
clothed with verdure. The productions of the earth will be increased.
Crowded cities and smiling villages will spring up. The halls of
legislation will be occupied by the hardy and virtuous cultivators of
the soil, the men of all others the most safe to be entrusted with the
enactment and administration of laws. Colleges, academies, and
schools, will prove the nurseries of enlightened, healthful,
industrious, and happy freemen; and Christianity, untrammelled by
the obstacles that now so powerfully impede its progress, with a field
wide and waving with a luxuriant harvest open and inviting before
her, will send abroad her genial and regenerating influences, and
render this the Paradise of lands.
We will conclude this, perhaps too protracted performance, in the
language of an Indian Cazique.

"Would you know," he asked, "how I would have my children

instructed in the ways of men? Look at this handful of dust gathered
from the golden bed of the silver-flowing Aracara. What an infinite
number of particles—yet how few the grains of ore which we prize;
how great the toil which is necessary to sift out and separate them
from the worthless heap in which they are concealed; even so it is
with the history of the generations of men, from the creation
downwards. Events have passed which no tongue can number; but
the events which mark the character of human nature, and which are
worthy of being treasured up in our memories, are but few, and only
by the eye of wisdom to be distinguished.

"Let my children then be taught what these few events are; let them
be spared the life's labor of turning over the mountain of dross which
time has heaped up, in search of the scattered gems which are to
lighten their path through the world; conduct them at once into the
only treasury of true knowledge—that treasury which Philosophy has
gleaned from the experience of thousands of generations."

SONG OF LEE'S LEGION.

Our chargers are plunging and pawing the ground,

And champing and tossing the white foam around—
So fleet to pursue, and so mighty to crush,
No foe will remain in the path where they rush.
Away, then, my heroes—away, then, away!
Let "Freedom or Death!" be the watchword to-day.
 Remember the burnings we witnessed last night;
The fair and the feeble we passed in their flight;
The wail of the wounded, the red blood that flowed,
Still warm in the path, where by moonlight we rode.
Away, then, &c.

The marauder is nigh—he is hurrying back;

The sand, as we gallop, still falls in his track.
On! on! then, our swords for the battle are rife,
And soon they shall drink at the fountain of life.
Away, then, &c.

Prince Edward.

NATURAL BRIDGE OF PANDI,

IN COLOMBIA, SOUTH AMERICA.

The Bridge of Pandi is distant two days journey from Bogotá. We
made it less toilsome by remaining several days at Fusugazugá—an
intermediate village, which possesses the advantage of a fine
climate and refreshing verdure, unknown to the plain upon which this
city stands. The bridge is situated considerably lower—almost in the
tierra caliente hot country—where the thermometer rose to 86°, but
still the heat was not very oppressive.

Our first view of the bridge was just at the moment when such a
scene is most impressive. The sun had sunk behind the mountains.
We were without a guide, nor did we need one. We had merely to
follow the high road—a mule path—down into a deep ravine, near
the bottom of which we heard the sound of rushing waters. On
reaching the bridge, this sound and the dismal shrieks of numerous
birds of night—the sole occupants of this gloomy region—called our
attention to the scene below us. We then first knew we were upon
the bridge of Pandi. Three hundred and fifty-eight feet beneath,
rushes a stream, called Suma Paz, which fills the entire chasm—
being, if we can trust our sight under circumstances so deceptive,
about thirty or forty feet wide. We could see the deep chasm and the
dark waters of the stream—but where was the bridge which Nature
built? We were standing upon a rude structure of logs with railings so
frail as almost to dismay the most daring; but upon closer
examination we discovered that it rested upon several huge
fragments which had fallen and lodged so as to form the bridge for
which we were searching. The edges of the largest rock rest upon
other rocks on one side, and on the other upon the sloping face of
the severed mountain. Upon this we descended, and enjoyed a
better view of what the imagination is so readily inclined to paint as
infernal regions. The cries of the birds echo from the depths below,
like the shrieks of troubled souls destined to the sad fate of never
leaving the abodes to which their sins had driven them. Night was
rapidly approaching; and with the feelings which the scene had
inspired, we retraced our steps to the little village of Pandi or El
Mercadillo, to which we had to clamber nearly half a league. Our
hamacs welcomed us to rest, and after the fatigues of the day, sleep
soon robbed us of our wandering thoughts.

On the following morning, we repeated our visit to the bridge, and

reviewed the whole more leisurely. Although the awe of the
preceding evening had subsided, our admiration was undiminished.
The same Great Being which had ruptured the mountain asunder
and opened a fearful fissure, had thrown down the loose fragments,
and so lodged them as to contribute to the convenience as well as to
arouse the astonishment and wonder of all who crossed. The natives
of the country have destroyed much of the effect by the rude logs
which they have laid upon the rocks across the chasm. It is also
remarkable, that this fissure could not be passed elsewhere for many
leagues in either direction.

How will the Natural Bridge of Pandi compare with that of

Rockbridge County in Virginia? The beauty of this must sink before
the awful and grand sublimity of the other. In that you would look in
vain for the well turned arch of this, while the latter is deficient in the
almost unfathomable abyss and in the surrounding scenery and in
the roaring waters of that of Pandi. I should have observed, that no
means exist of reaching the bottom—nor is it desirable, as the bridge
in itself, seen from below, cannot be imposing.

The birds which occupy the ledges and caverns formed by the
ruptured rock, are called "Pajaros del Puente"—Birds of the Bridge—
and are not known elsewhere. They are birds of night, and sally out
only after it is dark into the neighboring dense forests, in search of
the fruit with which they maintain themselves. If perchance the light
of day overtake them before they regain their dark abodes, it is so
noxious to them that they cannot survive it. Thus say the natives—
and that this is shown by their being many times found dead in the
paths of the mountains. They are equal in size to a pheasant—their
color is a reddish brown, and their beaks square and very hard.
 LINES

On the Statue of Washington in the Capitol.

It is our WASHINGTON that you behold,

Whom Nature fashioned in her grandest mould,
To be the leader of a noble band,
The friends of freedom, and their native land:
A perfect hero, free from all excess;
Above Napoleon, though he dazzled less:
Not quite so great for what he did, 'tis true,
But greater far for what he did not do:
And, nought he ought not, all he ought, to be,
He made his country, and he left her, free.

EPIGRAM.

"A party, you tell me," says Dick, not invited,

But who would not believe such a beau could be slighted;
"A party at Modeley's?—can't possibly be;
For how could he have such a thing without me?"
 FALL OF TEQUENDÁMA,

IN COLOMBIA, SOUTH AMERICA.

The Salto de Tequendama, a remarkable cascade, of which we had

heard much, and which has been described in most glowing
language, is distant to the southwest of Bogotá about fifteen miles.
We had made arrangements to visit it a fortnight ago, but the illness
of one of our party caused us to defer it. We now determined to see
the fall, and return to the city on the same day. To accomplish our
design, we set out before day (about 5 o'clock) this morning. A rapid
ride of an hour and a half brought us to the small village of Suácha,
situated upon the plain of Bogotá, near its southern border. The last
earthquake, from which Bogotá suffered so severely, was felt with
the utmost violence at Suácha, and prostrated entirely the church,
which is again rising from its ruins. Our route continued a league
further over the plain, and we crossed the river Funza, whose course
has been very circuitous through the plain, but is particularly devious
where we passed over it, upon an uncouth and not very safe bridge,
to the Hacienda de Canoas. The river winds sluggishly to our left
towards the fall. Our path led over the high hills which appear to
have been once the banks of the great lake which must have
covered the plain which the view from these heights embraces. To
eminences which are wholly devoid of trees succeed others which
are well wooded, where we enter a more picturesque region, worthy
of the fine scene which we were now eager to witness. We were
convinced that we were near it, and listened for the deafening roar
which we expected would betray the rush of the waters into the
tremendous gulf that receives them. The path was steep, and shortly
before we arrived at the spot where it was necessary to alight from
our horses, the sounds of the fall reached us; but we were distant
from it a few hundred yards only. My first sensation was
disappointment, when I stood upon the brink of the chasm into which
a stream whose greatest width is estimated at forty feet, is
precipitated to a depth which did not seem to exceed three hundred
feet, but which is estimated to be more than six hundred. The river
being now uncommonly low, a sheet of water about fourteen or
fifteen feet in width, is tossed about thirty feet upon a ledge of rocks,
from which it dashes in foam to the bottom of the deep abyss, a
large proportion of it dissipating in spray. The foot of man has never
trodden the bottom of this chasm. Its sides are perpendicular to a
considerable distance below, and the strata of rock are exactly
horizontal, so that no means of descending have yet been
discovered within the curvilinear aperture, where the mountain
seems to have parted and given passage to the Funza.

Attempts have been made repeatedly to reach the foot of the

cataract by ascending the bed of the river, into which it is easy to
enter at some distance below. A fall of about twenty feet had resisted
heretofore the efforts of every adventurer. A party of Americans
preceded us to-day, provided with ladders and ropes, with a
determination to surmount this obstacle. In this they succeeded, but
another yet more difficult presented itself—this they also surmounted
with the strengthened hope of having then overcome every
obstruction which resisted the accomplishment of their wishes. They
were too sanguine. On ascending further, a fall of about forty feet
now stared them in the face, and resisted all their efforts.
Perpendicular rocks enclosed the narrow chasm. The only possible
ascent was through the dashing torrent—with this they struggled
nobly, but they had not the means of resisting it. The abode of
innumerable parrots, whose screams, heard faintly at the height on
which we stood, warned us of the exertions made to encroach upon
their domain, that continues unmolested and untrodden by man. We
spent more than two hours at the fall, hoping to witness the success
of the enterprising adventurers. Although disappointed in this
respect, we were amply compensated by the increased admiration
with which we viewed this beautiful fall, notwithstanding it is seen so
imperfectly. There are two spots from which good views may be
obtained. We must leave to the fancy to imagine the grand effect of a
sight from beneath it. It is to be hoped that ladders will be placed or
that some means will be discovered to gratify the ardent desire one
naturally feels of seeing to the best advantage this admirable work of
nature.

The Fall of Tequendáma has been compared with the cataract of

Niagara. Such a comparison cannot be instituted fairly. In the one,
nature has been most lavish with her grandeur and sublimity: the
other she has endowed liberally with the beautiful and the
picturesque. The height of Tequendáma may be four times greater
than that of Niagara; its width not the thirtieth part: and to judge the
comparative volume of the waters of both, it suffices to reflect, that
Tequendáma drains the river Funza; Niagara the waters of four
inland seas, which united, are not exceeded in size by the Gulf of
Mexico.

LIONEL GRANBY.

CHAP. IX.

The proudest land of all,

That circling seas admire—
The Land where Power delights to dwell,
And War his mightiest feats can tell,
And Poesy to sweetest swell,
Attunes her voice and lyre.
Aristophanes.
The ship in which I had embarked soon fell down the river, and,
aided by a favorable breeze, we quickly shot by the massy and
motionless scenery of the majestic Rappahannock. Changing our
course we entered one of the beautiful and tributary waters of the
Chesapeake, and dropped anchor directly in front of an antique
mansion, the stately residence of a proud and well known name. An
extensive garden, which declared the taste and pedantry of its
owner, for its chaste and beautiful model was drawn from the pages
of the Odyssey, stretched its broad walks to the margin of the river. A
throng of merry girls and romping boys poured down from the porch
of the house, welcoming with glad voices that, happiest of all
Virginian visiters, an importing ship. Disguising myself I leaped into
the boat which left the vessel, and ere its keel had grated on the
sand, many negroes had rushed into the water, and were dragging it
to the shore with songs of triumph and congratulation. An elderly
gentleman, grave, dignified and thoughtful—peace to his fair-top
boots and glittering buckles!—now appeared and commenced the
usual ledger conversation with Captain Z. about the quality and price
of his tobacco, and in a whisper he told him on no account to
sacrifice his "new ground sweet scented." Holding a paper in his
hand he called aloud to his family to enter their wishes on that magic
tablet, which he was about to send home. No commercial newspaper
ever declared a more incongruous catalogue of the comforts of life
and the luxuries of opulence: lace and iron, silk and spades, wine
and jesuit's bark, all figured in the same column; and when the
negroes were called on to declare what they wanted, they filled the
mystic page with calico, fiddle strings and bottles. Many a bronzed
and ebon colored child was led up to old massa by its mother, and
each lisping petition for a hat or a fishing hook, was sacredly entered
on the list.

I returned to the ship, and dropping a hasty line to my uncle,

informing him of the reasons which compelled me to leave Virginia,
despatched it by the last canoe which quitted our side, and retiring to
sleep I did not awake until the ship was dancing gaily over the broad
waters of the Atlantic. I looked on the furrowed track behind me—
and, far in the amber west, the lessening glory of the Virginian coast
was sinking in the wilderness of waters. With a fixed and quenchless
eye I watched its expiring outline, and when it had sunk down into a
wavy and shadowy mist, I felt as the exile whose pulseless heart has
heard the requiem of hope and the knell of love. Young,
inexperienced, and ignorant of the world, I was launched like a rotten
barque in the tempestuous ocean of man, while home, love, hope
and all the primal sympathies of the human heart, were to me,
sealed, buried, and forever annihilated. I had fled!—leaving a name
associated with the scorn of honor and the vengeance of society.
Who that heard of me would believe me innocent in the duel with
Ludwell, or who would believe that self-defence prompted my attack
on the life of Pilton? God in his goodness gave us tears! I had them
not, and from a tearless eye I became sullen and satisfied, with no
human passion but an increased affection for Ellen Pilton, which
streamed through my heart like phosphoric words on the dark walls
of a cavern. I was proud to be the victim of wayward and adverse
circumstances, and yielding to their mystic control, I found that
destiny weaves an argument which philosophy cannot unravel.

On the second day of our voyage, Scipio presented himself, telling

me that he was sent from Chalgrave with letters for the ship, that he
had discovered me through my disguise, that he had secreted
himself on board of the vessel, and that he was determined to follow
me to the end of the world. I soon settled the manner and purpose of
his appearance with the captain, and found in the priceless fidelity of
my servant, a green spot on which my heart might rest from its storm
of revenge and misanthropy.

Cheered by the balmy spirit of the western gale our gallant ship sped
her onward course, and the glad cry of land which echoed through
the vessel as we approached the beetling coast of England fell on
my ear like words of mercy to the prisoned captive. Standing on the
quarter deck, I saw before me the bustle, hurry and turmoil of
commerce. The surface of the water was chequered with a dense
throng of vessels, while, broadly floating in the breeze, appeared that
proud flag on whose glory the sun rises, and over whose empire he
sets. As a Virginian! as one whom early education and childish
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