Contactee

The Contactee - The story of George Adamski Pt 2.

(continued from part one - "George Adamski")

On the afternoon of November 20, 1952 (he tells us in Flying Saucers Have Landed ), Adamski had his first encounter face-to-face contact with a man from Space.
During the previous year he had journeyed on several occasions into the Mojave Desert, to areas where saucers were said to be landing. Nothing had come of those excursions. On this day he was trying again. Accompanying him were Alice Wells; his secretary Lucy McGinnis; and four UFO enthusiasts, including Alfred Bailey and George Hunt Williamson.*
They drove about in the desert, watching the sky and following Adamski’s hunches as to a possible landing site. Finally, he ordered that they stop and get out of the car. They roamed on foot now, in the rocky desert terrain. Mountains loomed about them, deceptively close. A strong wind was blowing; and the women tied scarfs around their heads. After a half-hour the party returned to the car for a picnic lunch.

But the saucer watch continued as they scanned the sky and ate. Suddenly, everyone turned to look over a ridge and gaped.
(Pic left and below; a similar cigar shaped craft photographed in Salt Lake City)


As Adamski describes it in Flying Saucers Have Landed : Riding high, and without sound, there was a gigantic cigarshaped silvery ship, without wings or appendages of any kind. Slowly, almost as if it was drifting, it came in our direction; then seemed to stop, hovering motionless. Like a long, narrow cloud, the object hung there in the sky.

* Bailey (a railway conductor) and Williamson (an amateur anthropologist) had recently exchanged radio messages in Morse code—with the occupants of a flying saucer. See their book The Saucers Speak! (New Age, 1954).

pic source; allnewsweb.com

Voices trembling with excitement, they debated the identity of the object. George Hunt Williamson was sure it was a spaceship. Lucy McGinnis deemed it an airplane; but unable to discern any wings, she suddenly changed her mind. Yes, a spaceship! They stared in amazement at the long, narrow craft—not a flying saucer, but a mother ship.
It began to move off. “Someone take me down to the road—quick!” said Adamski.

“That ship has come looking for me and I don’t want to keep them waiting!” Adamski, McGinnis, and Bailey hopped into the car and drove a half-mile down the road. The ship seemed to be following them. Turning onto a dirt road, they drove along a shallow canyon. Adamski pointed to the base of a hill that was where he wanted to set up his telescope and camera. As they arrived at the spot, the ship was directly overhead. Adamski leapt from the car and unpacked his equipment. He told McGinnis and Bailey to leave him and rejoin the others he wanted to be alone. They should return for him in an hour. The car sped away with a trail of dust. Meanwhile, the silver ship was drifting off, like a cloud in the wind. Soon it had disappeared over the mountains. Adamski was alone with his equipment and thoughts. He attached camera to telescope, adjusted the eyepiece.

Then his attention was caught by a flash in the sky. And he saw something—“a beautiful small craft”—drifting between two mountain peaks and settling into a cove. A flying saucer! He began to take pictures. With another flash the saucer moved out of sight. Adamski stood there, camera in hand, awed by the proximity of the saucer. He wondered if its occupants knew he had been taking pictures. And he fell into a reverie. His thoughts were interrupted. Someone was standing about a quarter of a mile away, motioning for Adamski to come over.

As his companions (who would later sign an affidavit attesting to having witnessed the encounter) watched from a distance, Adamski walked toward the man. Strangely, he felt no fear. Hands thrust into the pockets of his windbreaker, he walked confidently and expectantly, as if approaching an old and trusted friend. The man was wearing a jumpsuit. His long, blond hair was blowing in the wind. He was smiling. Adamski halted an arm’s length from the stranger. Now, for the first time I fully realised that I was in the presence of a man from space—A HUMAN BEING FROM ANOTHER WORLD!…The beauty of his form surpassed anything I had ever seen. And the pleasantness of his face freed me of all thought of my personal self. I felt like a little child in the presence of one with great wisdom and much love, and I became very humble within myself… for from him was radiating a feeling of infinite understanding and kindness, with supreme humility.

The spaceman extended his hand. It was slender, with fingers like those of “an artistic woman.” Adamski reached out to shake it. But the spaceman shook his head, and gently placed his palm against Adamski’s. Adamski regarded the man with awe. He was cleanshaven and youthful in appearance. He had a high forehead, green eyes, and a smile that revealed glistening
teeth. His jumpsuit was brown, with a radiant sheen. He wore no jewelry, carried no weapon. The two men began to communicate, via a combination of telepathy, gestures, and facial expressions. The spaceman was from Venus, he informed Adamski. His visit was friendly, but serious in purpose. For he had come to warn us of the dangers of nuclear explosions dangers for both the Earth and its neighbors in the Solar System. Adamski noticed now the saucer in which he had arrived. Bell-shaped and translucent, it was hovering just off the ground in a cove. A scout ship, explained the spaceman, that had emerged from the mother ship seen earlier. As the wind blew their hair and ruffled the bushes around them, Adamski put questions to the spaceman. How did his ship operate? Did the Venusians believe in a Deity? Did they experience death? The spaceman answered the questions. But when Adamski asked to take his
picture, he shook his head. He led Adamski over to the saucer. It wobbled in the wind; and prismatic colors flashed on its surface. Adamski found himself speechless, overcome with joy.
Could he go for a ride? The spaceman shook his head. Could he just step inside and take a look around? No, not at this time. Then the spaceman said goodbye and reboarded his ship. It rose, glided over the mountains, and disappeared from view. Adamski was soon rejoining his party and filling them in on what had happened. He and the others returned to the site, to examine the spaceman’s footprints and to look for traces of the saucer. Then they drove into town for dinner. Two days later an Arizona newspaper ran a story about the encounter. More newspaper coverage followed; and it was not long before Adamski himself was writing a full account of his experience.

The manuscript found its way to the desk of Waveney Girvan, editor-in-chief of a British publishing house. A UFO enthusiast, Girvan says that it “made an immediate appeal to me: I felt I was handling dynamite.” Though fearing the book might bring ridicule upon his imprint, he decided to publish it.* And in the fall of 1953, Flying Saucers Have Landed appeared in bookstores. Coauthored by Adamski and Desmond Leslie (a British ufologist who wrote the historical portion of the book), it describes in detail the encounter in the desert. It also included the latest—and most sensational photos of spacecraft that Adamski had taken through his telescope. In its concluding chapter we are told: Now I am hoping that the spaceman will return again, and that then I will be granted more time to visit with him. Believe me, I am saving up questions. And many of my friends are also accumulating questions. Couldn’t it be possible that he might actually let me have a ride in his ship of the Great Ethers? He would not have to invite me twice.