Experiencer: Raised In Two Worlds

(Page 29)

Sometimes, growing up, unusual things happened when others were with me, as well.  As these other individuals would often only partake in single episodes of what, to me, was an ongoing series of strange occurrences, they were free to try to shrug it off and continue their lives unfettered.

The strange mist from the summer of 1978 is a good example of this.  In fact, this event would even take me a while to properly link to the bizarre bigger picture.

It was a perfect, blue-skied, summer afternoon and I was playing in my backyard with one of my neighbor friends, Chet.  We were both between the first and second grade of school and, at the time, I was seven and he was six. We were doing some lazy tree climbing, Chet in the apple tree and me in the maple, when we were surprised by a thick white fog rolling in from around the side of the house.  Oddly, the fog almost seemed to move toward us with a purpose.

At first, I assumed that it was smoke from some neighbor’s barbecue or whatever.  I hopped out of the tree and watched it approach.  When it reached me, I realized it was an odorless and very fine mist, definitely not smoke.

It then steadily continued past us into the neighbor’s backyard and just kept going, not dissipating or altering its pace. The air was completely clear in its wake.

I had an odd feeling about the cloud that I would best describe as it being somehow aware, as strange as that sounds.  It seemed to have intended to have taken the route it did.  Even stranger, I got the impression that it observed me in some way on its way through.

My friend Chet, on the other hand, seemed mostly unimpressed and resumed playing after the cloud floated off.

As I watched the mist roll around another house and out of sight, a fly landed on my arm and, as I brushed it away, I noticed a fresh scar across my upper arm.  It was a simple line of a scar, but it had never been there before, it wasn’t sore, I didn’t know how I could’ve gotten it and it looked like it was already pretty-much healed.  As I sitting on the picnic table, curiously examining it, Chet headed home for dinner.

I showed the scar to my family and they opined that I must’ve gotten it some time ago and just forgot how it happened.  Neither of my parents could remember any particular event that might’ve produced it, though.  I knew my own body well enough to know that the scar wasn’t there before and I felt that I would’ve certainly remembered any event painfully significant enough to have caused it.

As I still have the scar, during one of my regressions with Shirley Coyne, we decided to see if I could identify the source of it, whether it was from an encounter situation or not.

That summer afternoon came back, bringing the mysterious fog with it.  I stood there in the backyard while the mist approached and enveloped me.  The vapor was a bit cool in temperature and smelled vaguely like the smoke from a smoke machine.   Then, a thin silhouette appeared in the fog.  A tall Gray was walking toward me.  I did not run, but felt compelled to stay put.

As he reached me, he paused for just a second and made deep eye contact with me.  Telepathically, he asked me how I felt and I replied by mentally expressing the feeling that I was fine.  Satisfied, he continued walking in the same direction that the fog was drifting.  Soon, he and the cloud were gone.  That was it.  Immediately, my young self had forgotten all about what had just transpired and I noticed the fly and the scar.

Shirley asked me if the fly was possibly a screen memory of the gray, a mental image overlaid over the real one to mask it (either by my own doing to psychologically protect myself from having to accept an uncomfortable reality...or a mental cue the gray intentionally implanted in my mind to obfuscate my memory of the episode).  Although a fly wouldn't admittedly be too far off the mark in terms of a physical comparison with the grays, I told her I doubted that it was anything other than an actual common fly that landed on me.  She then asked me if that was the first time I’d seen that tall gray and a sudden flood of memories came rushing in…