Reindeer Bells

There are a few UFO or paranormal related experiences in my life that I haven't shared public, for a variety of reasons. Mainly, they're -- more correctly, I'm -- too embarrassed to acknowledge. Some are very personal and "embarrassing" or maybe intimate is a better word, others are almost goofy in my perceived embarrassment. And sometimes the event is something I'm not sure what to do with, regardless of embarrassment factor.

Last night, in bed, I was thinking about something that happened to me when I was a kid. I always thought it was too silly-goofy to really think about it, but it always troubled me. I must have been about five, because that's how old I was when we lived in that particular house.  The memory:

I'm in my bed, nighttime.  (This is the same bedroom where I had my "cylinder alien heater" episodes.) Suddenly I hear the bells -- jingle bells! Santa's bells! He's here! I run, very excited, to the window, and look outside. I can clearly hear the bells; sweet, tinkling, jingling bells right above me, on the roof. I stick my head out the window, trying to look up to the roof to get a glimpse of Santa and the reindeer. Nothing. But those bells! They are calling me! I'm very happy and in a waiting mode -- I know "they" (he? it? Santa?) are/is here. I just have to be patient.

Now, I've never related this story because it seems like a typical little girls innocent anticipation of Santa and Christmas magic. I have always been a little embarrassed , as an adult, that this memory has always been so damn vivid. It was real!  I wasn't dreaming, I didn't just think it happened, it did happen! So, I just put this memory into that gray basket.

But last night, with a jolt of awareness, I realized that this event didn't happen during Christmas time!  Adding to the strangeness: in the memory, I am on the second floor. I remember distinctly the night sky and the brilliant blue stars, so close I could easily touch them.  Only, we didn't have a second floor.

That familiar nudging voice appeared, that told me, with a soft little kick, that this was a cover memory, and Santa had nothing to do with the memory. Those bells were not the bells on reindeer harnesses, but something else entirely.

The memory, the feeling of this memory, has always been on the same level, the same emotional tone, as the ones involving waiting for my "invisible" little friends -- the ones who would carry me out through walls and doors and into the large tree, where I'd look up at those stars, into the rich velvet blue night, to wait . . .

Parallels: 1977 Wales Humanoid and 1959 Patio Alien

 Albert S Rosales posted this historical item of a UFO/alien/entity encounter on his Facebook page:

Albert S Rosales

Location. Near Dale Pembrokeshire Wales
Date: April 24 1977 Time: 01:00 a.m.
Mrs Pauline Coombs, 31, and her husband Billy, 36, were watching the television at their Ripperston farm when they saw at a window a silver suited figure.

One thing that struck me as interesting about this is the similarity to what I saw when I was a child. A few years ago I drew a little picture of the being:

"Patio Alien, Los Angeles California, 1959?" illustration by Regan Lee

 While there are dis-similarities:  height, and location, among others, the visual similarities are strong. (silver suit, helmet, humanoid). My creature was small, about four feet, and, while the Coombs saw their creature in 1977, in Wales, I saw mine in Los Angeles in approximately 1958 or 1959.

I'm not suggesting they are the same or even related but the visual imagery struck me when I saw Albert's post.  Click here for more from Albert Rosales on this case.

Silver Suited Aliens

I have an article in the current issue of UFO Magazine about Silver Suited Aliens. Here's an oil pastel drawing I did a few years ago of a being I saw in California when I was about four years old. And here's a link to my recent item on Aliens vs. Bigfoot on my blog Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch.

Shared Experiences, Connections

Category: Craft, desert sightings, nighttime sightings, shared experiences
Location: California, Arizona
Date: 1950s, 1980s

I have an article at UFO Digest right now that discusses the connections I and my husband have regarding the UFO phenomena, our childhood experiences, etc. "Like You, You Probably Were Abducted . . ."

Speaking of connections among people that know each other, or families. . . my uncle and his family had a sighting in the California desert in the 1950s, not sure of the exact date. Typical, almost: night, alone out there in the middle of nowhere, huge light comes from out of nowhere, follows them, hangs out for awhile above their car, then zooms off. My husband's cousins, along with a group of friends, had a similar experience in the Arizona desert, at night, with a green beam of light coming down from the craft to the surface of the desert floor. Believe me, if you know this individual, he does not elaborate or make things up; very straight as an arrow kind of person.

The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

Category: Dreams, shared experiences, entities
Location: Los Angeles, California
Date: 1950s - 1960s

This was originally published on Tim Binnall's Binnall of America website for my Trickster's Realm column, July, 2007.

The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves

When I was a child, I’d intentionally wait for “them.” “They” didn’t come until I was ready; until I had gone through all the little steps. Going through the little steps, the delicious wait, and then the floating through the bedroom door, the hall door, the front door and outside and up into the starry sky, was a happy time.

I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.

I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.

Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.

Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.

The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.

Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)

I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.

Another synchronicity between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can't ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.

The Wolf as Totem
I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.

But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.

Puppet Symbolism and Invisibility
It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.

Invisible Aliens
In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I've had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.

There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, -- or us to protect ourselves -- as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.

(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)

Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?

I wonder if I’ll ever know.

The Open Ceiling and the Eagle

Category:Childhood Memory, dreams, animals
Location: Los Angeles, California
Date: approximately 1958


The Open Ceiling and the Eagle
There was a silver suited alien on the patio at this house on Corning Street, . . but before that:

Before that, . . . I’m lying on my back in bed. I remember this as vividly as if it happened this morning; I also remember this as a “dream” but it was so damn real, I told myself afterwards it was a dream, because it doesn’t make sense that it could be real.

I’m in bed, in the middle of the bed, which is huge, though in "reality" my childhood bed wasn't huge. Flat on my back. I’m both excited -- exhilarated -- but also a bit scared, not understanding what’s going on. There’s some confusion; my father is here, and I don’t understand why. He doesn’t live with us and he wouldn’t be here at night. My father, mother and grandmother are standing in the doorway; they can't come in for some reason. They're watching, but something prevents them from coming closer.  There’s a lot of activity, but I’m in the middle of my bed, which is huge,I'm kind of spread eagled, I can’t move. I have a sense of being tied up, but I don't see anything that's tying me, but something is preventing me from moving.I feel both fantastic and a little disoriented. Lots of bright, bright lights; everything is lit up so white. I look up at the ceiling, and it opens up, opening from the center, two halves moving back to expose the nighttime sky, which is beautiful, full of inky blue and shimmering stars. I think this is a pretty neat trick. A giant eagle flies down from above; the eagle is so large, it fills the sky, fills the open ceiling. It comes down straight at me. I don’t like this too much. I’m not exactly frightened, but it’s not comfortable. The eagle takes me up into a silver disk type thing. That's all I remember...